BTS Dark One-Shots {On Hold for Requests}

To Our Fathers [Yoongi]

Breaking in through the tent, your lungs were gasping for a breath. 

Sweat dripped along your brow bone, snaking down your temple, stinging your eyes. Your nose hairs were contaminated with the smell of iron while the crisp, misty air bounced off your burning skin. Every cell inside you shook and shivered with adrenaline and exhaustion. You were ready to collapse, to fall to your demise with the side of your shirt sticking to your skin with a sickly liquid. You swallowed the rolling nausea, not ready to give up just yet. 

You were so close to your victory, you could feel it beneath your quivering, dirt-ridden fingertips. 

There he sat: head down, black bangs hooding his brooding eyes that you had been waiting to see for two years. He wore the blood-caked cape that had cascaded his family's shoulders for centuries. He sat in a corner on a small stool, hand loosely grasping a golden hilt to a long blade—the glinting silver blade that was slicked with freshly split insides wasn't long enough to be a sword just yet, but rather a long knife. 

In front of him, on the floor, was his once faithful advisor that had turned a new life. A leaf to aid you instead of him. 

You unsheathed your sword, the length shuddering in the air with your hand attached. You approached slowly with the tip directed straight at his head. The mist of your heavy breaths fluttered just out of your mouth into the cool air. "It's time to give up, Min. You understand my army is too strong; it's only a matter of time until it takes yours to its knees."

The man didn't utter a word, but rather his head slowly lifted up to peer down the sword that experienced an earthquake, meeting your eyes that rattled in your skull. 

You wanted to drop to your knees at how defeated—how broken—the man was. A memory flashed in the back of your brain, drowning out your surroundings for that short second. 

The back of two fingers flitted against your cheek with ease. Under the dark, silent gaze that peered straight into your soul, you felt the comfort that you longed for for years. You felt the comfort that you only had received as a child, before the passing of your mother. You were safe.

"I will piece us back together again," he murmured softly in his deep, smooth voice. When his palm flattened against your cheek, you leaned into it. "We'll be happy. We'll be together for eternity."

You sighed with content, a gentle smile fluttering across your lips. The warming sun against your back combated the biting frost that ate at your fingers. "Happy... I like happy."

"I like happy, too," he answered. He sounded just as content as you as he leaned in closer, ready to take your lips onto his. 

His fingers pried yours off of your sword's hilt, the blade hitting the frozen ground with crunching grass beneath with a thud. He was close now, his hand against your cheek to brush an unforgiving tear off of your salty cheeks. His melancholy eyes didn't match the long memory from a faraway land that seemed imaginary now. 

"It shouldn't have ever come to this," he murmured to you. The thumb that brushed away your scalding tear allowed the hand attached to rest against your cheek. He was unbelievably close now. He was the closest you had come to in the two years. 

His pale neck was close enough to grab onto and wrap your cold, dead fingers around, begging to suck the life out of. 

"You shouldn't have started this if you want to contemplate the last couple of years," you slightly hissed between gritted teeth. Anger was building inside your chest, ready to explode in a flurry of hatred. "You, out of all people, should know that."