Taekook Oneshots

Listen

(A/N: so I know it's been about 84 years but have a new oneshot! Unedited, stupid long, and based on faerie legends. So if some of it makes no sense or is repetitive or if it drags on a little, just ignore that thank you so much in advance love you all..okay enjoy!) 

Listen.

The wind blows past me, but the voice is there, barely audible. For a moment, I find myself wondering if I imagined it. But no. That wouldn't be possible.

Somewhere in my chest, just beneath my sternum, a warmth begins to bloom, spreading through my torso like a flower blossoming at double speed. I lean forward a little, try to focus on the sounds around me, straining my senses for any indication that something is on the horizon. That anything would be waiting for me.

Listen.

There it is again. I spin around, trying to locate the source of the voice, but there's nothing behind me. Just an ever-shifting curtain of leaves, tree branches, tree trunks. A sea of greens and browns and golds, a sheer fabric through which the faint glow of sunrise is visible. It casts shadows on the path behind me, in dappled and randomised patterns that shift whenever something moves.

"I'm listening," I respond, whispering under my breath in case anyone's nearby. I don't want someone to think I've gone insane. Part of me already thinks that as it is. Other people's opinions would just confirm those fears. "What do you want from me?"

Come.

The wind picks up, faster, and the loose end of the scarf around my neck lifts in a jet stream of air that points into the treeline, off the beaten path. Instinctively, I stumble towards it for a moment. Then my brain starts to work again, and I remember the stories.

Those who leave the beaten path are never seen again. Without fail.

Is this the mysterious call I've heard so much about? It has to be.

The sky is brightening even as I stand there, trying to figure out what to do. The clear night sky, speckled with glittering stars, is giving way to the faint orange of dawn. I've come too late to really observe the cosmos tonight. Soon, the light will take away from the constellations. There will be nothing left to record, no future to read in the sky above.

I really need to fix my alarm clock.

Come.

"Look, I can't come with you, no matter what you say. I have a client coming in today. If I disappear, she'll flip her lid."

Come.

I sigh, fighting the urge to give in. I'm more susceptible to this kind of thing than most people, I know that. Being a mystic does have its drawbacks, after all. And these voices certainly tend to be louder and more powerful in my head than they would be for others.

There's the people who call you crazy, those who see you as the incarnation of the devil himself, the people who ask you if you know what century you're living in. It gets ridiculous. But over time I've managed to develop a clientele that actually seems to take me seriously. I can't throw that away for an enticing voice that's trying to get me to step into the wilderness, away from everything I've ever known.

This forest is a particularly powerful spot for mystical events. It's a place where the leylines seem to converge, though I'm still fighting to be able to see them when there's too much light. Any form of illumination, even the natural stuff, pollutes the view and makes it hard to make out the fragile marks where the magic of the world holds itself together.

But a convergence is also a hotbed for faerie creatures of various kinds, and all of them are keen to drag unsuspecting travellers into their own world for their own ends. I have done my best to avoid the faerie, because it's a dangerous line to walk once you've become aware of it. The temptation to stay forever, the complex rules and politics of that world, the fact that some faerie beings can change their mind in a moment. It becomes..complex at the best of times. Better to stay away from anything with that level of chaos, and stick to the things we can control.