𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘩é𝘳𝘪 - my darling
𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘣ê𝘵𝘦 - my beast
𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘶 - kitty
𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘱𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘵 𝘱𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯 - my little chick
𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦 𝘥𝘦 𝘧é𝘦𝘴 - fairy-tale
𝘧𝘦𝘶𝘹 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘵 - will-o'-the-wisp
𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘵 - a mischievous spirit. while capable of shapeshifting into a number of animals, its preferred form is that of a black cat. matagots are considered evil in nature, but they can be trapped whereupon it would take a largely beneficial role for its captor. the legend states that if you lured one from its hiding spot with a serving of fresh, meaty chicken and then scooped it up and walked straight home without looking behind you, it would become a source of dependable good fortune. though there are a couple of catches, as there always are with magical beings.
first, before every meal, you would have to feed the first mouthful of your food and the first sip of your drink to the matagot. second, you would have to release the creature from this servitude well prior to your death. otherwise, your last days on earth would assuredly be agonizingly painful.
─━━═════⊰⊱ ⬛ ⊰⊱═════━━─
"...pretty-eyed, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man..."
"stop that. i'm trying to make breakfast."
tinkling giggles pearl through the music. "well, you could just look away, you know."
"...ballerina, you must've seen her, dancing in the sand..."
small, bare feet continue gliding gracefully across the worn, faded tiles. bare feet belonging to a pair of very naked legs.
the pale-golden morning sun drapes everything in a sheen layer of gossamer silk. it's a conte de fées, unfolding right in front of his eyes, in a run-down apartment tucked somewhere in a backstreet amidst paris.
min yoongi doesn't look away.
"...and now she's in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand..."
"i can't make coffee this way."
"aw, poor you." a mischievous glance finds min yoongi where the man stands leaning against a counter-top, exposed forearms crossed over his chest.
"...jesus freaks, out in the street, handing tickets out for god..."
the song plays from an old radio perched atop the small kitchen island alongside carelessly stacked paperbacks and opened mail, breadcrumbs, two empty bowls and a half-drunken glass of orange juice.
they didn't bother cleaning up last night.
"...turning back, she just laughs, the boulevard is not that bad..."
its sound is a little muffled and tinny but carries easily up to the high ceilings, wafting into every room.
YOU ARE READING
hold me closer, tiny dancer I yoonmin
Fanfictiona fairy tale. and min yoongi plays his role willingly and perfectly like he always does; dark gaze conducting a choreography of shudders over the skilfully twirling body in front of him, teasing stutters into breathing so composed for everyone else...
