when the kiss strikes midnight ✅
Author—strawberryyhobi
Summary:
princes aren’t usually perceived as insecure, highly self conscious, and anxious balls of awkwardness.
but, that’s park jimin — and that’s his charm.
because with the kingdom’s harsh standards and a judgmental society that always crowds him for not looking how traditional is supposed to look like, he develops these worries over time that he’s just simply not good enough — and that he needs a change and needs it now.
so when the palace disco rolls around and he’s panicking last minute with exercise routine after exercise routine, his fairy godfather shows up at just the right place and the right time to give him exactly what he wishes for.
which is, nothing else than to be tall, hot, and ripped.
it’s only when jimin starts considering whether to make these changes permanent that his best friend, taehyung, starts to panic — realizing he has to step in before it’s too late.
Notes:
In response to a prompt by lucid_dreamer_247 in the BTS_Fairytale_Fic_Fest collection.
Prompt:
Okay hear me out... Prince Cinders x Dynamite AU???
Jimin is a prince who's always been small, looked down on, feeling particularly Not Special. So he asks his fairy godperson to make him tall and muscly and "sexy" for one night; he wants to go to the Palace Disco and be /seen/, to rollerblade with the other royals and be admired and Special.
But his childhood best friend, Taehyung, doesn't understand. He's always admired Jimin for who he is. He's beautiful, no matter how big or small or muscly or skinny he is. When Jimin meets a handsome new suitor at the disco and tells Tae he's gonna ask his fairy godperson to make the change /permanent/, Taehyung decides he needs to step in. He can't allow Jimin to change for some stupid, handsome prince.
Not when Taehyung has loved him for all of these years.
Once upon a time, in a land far far away, there lived a prince.
An incredibly diffident, highly insecure, over the top self conscious prince, but a prince.
Even with all the endless luxuries that came his way without the need to wish on a shooting star, even with every lavish gift he (surprisingly) received on his birthday ever single year ever since he came upon the world in a swaddling cloth, even with everything he could’ve wanted and much, much more — he was still left with this reverted image of himself that never lived up to anyone’s expectations.
Because whether it be a cash prize or lottery withdrawal for some material item worth thousands, gold is still gold — and gold, regardless of its value, is utterly useless when it comes to restoring people’s lost happiness that was taken by others around them.
Jimin’s innocence and childhood joys weren’t stolen from money, therefore money couldn’t repair those holes in his heart. There was nothing money could redeem itself for because it simply wasn’t the villain in this situation, and although it did provide some satisfaction in the moment, it could never make up for the way the royal family, townspeople, and practically everyone else he had ever come into contact with, did to him.
The sneaky little glances people stole every now and then just to scrutinize every flaw of Jimin’s physical figure never went unnoticed by him. Even if it was sought out to be as discreet as possible, he wasn’t as dumb or naive as everyone thought he was — which yes, did come as a shocker to some when they discovered he had the brains of an above average (intelligence-wise) person.
And over the years it slowly did get to him, even if the process was gradual and didn’t affect him at first, it all did starting with his early teen years until it led him all the way up until where he was now at the ripe age of twenty-two.
Because one thing he missed about his childhood was the pure obliviousness that came with it.
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“Ass enlarging medicine. Take two, four hours apart no more than once every w—”
“Jimin,” a voice huffed tiredly, hopping off their stool as it rocked back and forth against the kitchen tiles, “don’t you think this is a bit excessive? I mean, your ass is—”
Jimin raised an eyebrow expectantly, rightfully so expecting his best friend to come clean with compliments as honest as compliments can be. Which in his eyes, were either backhanded or insults. “My ass issss….?”
With pursed lips and an internal dilemma running back and forth inside his head like a drunken marathon, Taehyung wobbled his head back and forth indecisively — unsure of whether to practically expose his own years worth of hidden feelings just for the sake of giving Jimin some confidence with sincere flatters, or whether to dip out at last minute just to save his own ass.
But of course to him, to Taehyung, Jimin’s happiness was more important than anything — even if that did include risking all of Taehyung’s private business that was very much tied back to Jimin’s own being as well.
“Great! Fantastic!” He blurted out, wincing slightly from the sharp pings of instant regret that shot through him, “better than ever, actually! Yeah she’s uh …”
Taehyung seemed to struggle here. Both in terms of struggling where to look since he didn’t know if he was given the ass-looking pass even while complimenting a friend’s butt, or if that still qualified as indecency.
He ended up with something at the very least, which was better than nothing. In some cases. “Quite the looker!”
Fuck. Instant regret.
Before he even gave himself the chance to facepalm himself, Jimin already seemed to be ten steps ahead of him with that god awfully and heavily cursed attractive cocky grin that blessed those already sinful lips of his. Damn.
“Really?” He bounced back hopefully, a smaller more humble smile craning onto the upper corners of his lips as he pulled a whole one-eighty on Taehyung just to see if his ass really lived up to his friend’s compliments.
Taehyung gulped, forcing himself to tear his eyes upward just so god and his angels didn’t expel him to hell for breaking the homie code on a Sunday, of all days. “Yes! It’s totally rad, dude.”
Jimin, whose eyebrows were now twisted together in amusement, turned around to face Taehyung quizzically, “Did you just say totally rad? You’re like, five decades late on that shit.”
“Late bloomer?” Taehyung suggested with a wonky smile, which was thankfully (one of the only things) that was saving his ass here. No one could resist that dorky charm of his anywho.
“Try baby boomer ,” Jimin snickered quietly, ruffling his fingers lightly through his hair, “anyways, I’m gonna go hit the gym. You heard about the big plans for this upcoming Saturday, right?”
Everyone in the kingdom head heard about those plans, everyone .
Even the uninvited, even the outcasts and lower class villagers who would never get to see past their days as commoners if their status remained the same rank as it did. Even the ones who were uninterested in all things and everything related to ballroom dances and late night parties had heard the news — against their will or not, it still counted nonetheless.
Hence, why he responded without a sliver of hesitation — of course trying to desperately get rid of all the fake scenarios and fantasies that revolved around Jimin possibly asking him to it (after Jimin brought it up in the conversation, Taehyung just couldn’t take those shreds of false hope and excitement).
“Ah yeah of course!” He fumbled, stuffing his hands into his jean pockets at an expeditious pace before he started to accumulate more sweat beads than what he could count, “I heard most people are going so it should be fun! A disco seems less pressuring than one of those annual balls — so I’m all for it.”
Jimin nodded in agreement, his eyes twinkling with admiration at Taehyung’s just … naturally adorable mannerisms that always caught his attention.
“Yeah,” he said, the sunlight beaming through the window acting as a perfect deflection from the previous distraction at hand, “still kinda stressed though, y’know? Like, cute suitors, pretty princesses, hot princes, the whole town is going and even though I know it’s more casual it’s still —”
Taehyung’s eyes melted empathetically at his friend’s (surely not new or unheard of) confession, “Nerve wracking?”
Jimin gulped heavily, and even though shame was evident in his body’s every movement and even as his anxieties doubled and insecurities tripled after just having told Taehyung he was worried about a less pressurizing event even though it was nothing new for him, nor new for Taehyung to hear about, he still couldn’t fight against the truth of it even if he tried.
“Yeah,” he hesitated, rubbing a finger against the inner corner of his eye as if that would act as a new main distracter of the situation that was something other than Taehyung’s endearing charms, “that.”
God, did it pain Taehyung to hear that. “I get it, but there’s no need to because you’re already so —”
It was an exact repeat of what had just happened moments before, only this time it didn’t just involve Jimin’s glutes but his whole self and the overall aroma that came with it.
Taehyung, who was once again having quite a difficult time trying to describe (and grasp) Jimin’s incomprehensible beauty with wildly confusing and indecisive hand motions, ended up changing directions thirteen and a half times before finally settling on one safe body part to come into contact with — the shoulder, “well, you’re just pretty. And anyone who disagrees either lost their own beauty pageant, or was just never crowned prom queen and prom king in high school.”
Though Jimin didn’t actually believe it nor did it magically solve these simply unsolvable issues that couldn’t magically disappear unless something within him self was altered, he still appreciated it nonetheless and had no problem giving Taehyung the benefit of the doubt if he couldn’t give him anything else.
“Thanks,” Jimin grinned sheepishly, ducking his head down towards the floor slightly before playfully brushing the toes of his shoe against Taehyung’s bunny slippers, “I’ll just see how far six days can get me.”
Taehyung frowned, obviously not expecting this type of response even though in general it was much expected of Jimin to say, “Oh c’ mon, you’re actually convinced you need to be like super macho Superman in six days time? You’re ridiculous—”
“Not ridiculous if I put enough work into doing it,” Jimin winked, interlacing his hands with Taehyung’s and giving them a tight squeeze before letting them slip away as he began to stride towards the exit, “I’ll be in my personal workout room, call me if you need me!” Jimin called after, his voice’s echoes bouncing off the walls before it disappeared entirely along with his body.
Taehyung let his lips part and fall open just enough to let a few breaths of air in and out, even if it was mostly done unknowingly he did need a second to just process what just happened.
His eyes were left to straggle awkwardly after Jimin’s already faded appearance, partially out of concern and partially because he wouldn’t have been able to resist the temptation on a normal day if you take out all the other factors that went into it.
Only this time, there was much less loveshot arrows in his eyes than there were the overbearing worrisome bows suspending it.
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Mirrors were never a person’s favorite. Unless one possessed a great amount of confidence or even as far as vanity to bear the appearance of themself everyday without feeling sick to their stomach looking at it, it was far more common for someone to hate the idea of how others perceived them than to not.
Jimin fell under that category.
His trousers had fallen to his feet now, rolled up and bunched around the ankle which only left his undergarments (such as his briefs and a fitted white tank top) on display, as he gazed intensely at himself into that cursed reflective piece of glass.
Jimin even shocked himself with how downright critical his own stare was. But even when he could control where his eyes went to and fro, even when he had the full reigns to use those imaginary pieces of string that were attached to all his limbs and joints, even when he — in theory — could put an end to all of this unnecessary amount of pressure he put on himself constantly to appeal to a crowd who would never view him as favorable, he still chose the hopeful route which only ended up damaging himself in the long run instead.
His hands, which had now trailed down his arm lightly until it grabbed ahold of his bony wrists, felt abnormally cold against his skin, almost as if it took the word bone chilling to a legitimate level.
But it’s not like he could help it. He couldn’t help it if he was more scrawny than his older brothers who charmed all the young ladies from surrounding kingdoms, or daughters of knights and well established scholars and nobles.
It’s not like exercising was like immediate magic either, because no matter how many hours he spent sweating in those humid indoor gyms he never got the result he was looking for, even if that “result” was unachievable.
Still, even though it was undoubtedly unrealistic and a bit too far-fetched (for anyone, since only an extremely selective amount of the population actually had a five percent body fat percentage), Jimin still used that ‘goal’ of his to tear down and critique his current looks and physical build just because he wasn’t quite at a five just yet.
Which of course is a bit unfair to himself since achieving that in general is sometimes beyond what an average person can do.
Except whenever he found his thin, lanky and rather awkward body appear behind that glass that separated Jimin from (what seemed to be) reality and fantasy or sanity and insanity, he couldn’t be bothered to be kind to himself. Not when other people would point out his flaws and imperfections too.
“Another unproductive gym day I guess,” He huffed in frustration, picking at the sides of his torso and pulling them as far as he could to see if any weight or muscle was gained to his torso. Which in turn led to nothing but sheer disappointment for even wanting to believe such nonsense in the first place.
There were only a couple more hours left until the palace disco, and so far Jimin’s situation was looking just as hopeless as he left it.
He let his body — which had now been fully engulfed by the curse that was discouragement — lazily topple down on top of his bed, before gradually being swallowed up in not only his own pity for himself, but also the bed’s surprisingly comfortable cushions (for the least favored prince out of the four).
A few tears trickled down his cheek as he curled himself into a ball, wishing and wishing, no matter how unrealistic it was to wish for, that suppressing it all physically would get rid of the emotional anguish he was going through mentally, too.
Well, that’s utter bullshit because he still felt the same even after letting it all out into his pillow, and not one drop of progress in the realm of self confidence was made. In fact, if he wasn’t so uptight or mad at himself, he probably would’ve laughed at the ridiculousness of that statement alone.
Except those salty, crystal-like water droplets streaming down his face didn't exactly scream ‘laughable’. That just would’ve been sad.
As if he needed anymore of that .
“Why!?” He sobbed, a mix of rage beyond what rage itself could devise, and pure bitterness seizing every single muscle of his that he oh so desperately wish he could just magically make grow on command, “Why can’t I just be hot? Why did I have to be born with … with —”
He paused, aggressively running a finger beneath his nose to wipe away the excess snot that had slowly accumulated over the time he’s been locked away in his bedroom, “I dunno just … muscles or some shit! Like fuck is that too much to fucking ask for!? Is it !?”
All his unheard cries bounced off each other in the empty space that filled his room. He just became so fucking wreckless and tired of being in his own skin and seeing his own face and his own body every damn day with nothing but unsatisfactory glances looking back at him that he had to take it out on something.
And that something, turned to be his own bed, hence the restless rolling around within his bedsheets or grabbing bunches of it with his fists angrily as if the bedding itself had been the one to blatantly insult him upfront, or give him dirty looks for something he couldn’t control.
And while he knew that in some parts of society petite bodies and body types were accepted and praised no matter how thin or awkwardly lanky or short in height they were, he still felt pressured to fit into his own kingdom’s standards — which was none other than a fit, muscular build that at the very least neared six foot.
He wasn’t built like the stereotypical, traditional prince. He didn’t have a six pack or skull crushing thighs, nor did he have bulging biceps that looked as if they could explode any minute.
He wasn’t ripped, he wasn’t even fucking athletic unless weekend trips to participate in the occasional fencing and equestrian tournaments and meets.
And even for those, he was ridiculed.
It was like the entire world was out to get him, because no matter how much he tried or how hard we worked it would always dwindle down to two simplistic words that had the power to tear up anyone’s self esteem in seconds, leaving their confidence frayed by the edges and torn by the seams.
Not enough.
And so he bawled, and bawled, and bawled until he couldn’t bawl anymore—
“Now, what’s all this?”
Until a peculiar and certainly unexpected visitor interrupted him.
Jimin looked up, peaking through the mess of disheveled hair and disorderly array of pillows and blankets that had somehow ended up resembling what an eighty four percent destroyed birds nest would’ve looked after a storm, and gently grabbed ahold of edge of one of the comforters with his fingers before pulling it down from where it had previously been suffocating his entire face.
However nothing could’ve prepared him for what he saw.
Because even through the thick glass glaze of tears, Jimin was still very much able to make out the very prominent glow that outlined the being’s figure, tracing all along its body until every bit and piece had this luminous aura around it that nearly convinced him he had been transported into a fairytale.
But after rubbing his eyes out of pure disbelief, among many repetitive (and very rapid at that) blinks as well, he finally came to the conclusion that what he was seeing right in front of him right now was indeed very real — real as can be.
He opened his mouth to speak, “H—”
“If you’re gonna ask how and why I exist or what I am, don’t bother wasting your breath.” The thing — or what Jimin presumed to be some sort of fairy wizard thing because of the two main indicators: a pair of wings and a wand — retorted sassily, propping a hand onto their left hip, “I’m here because I could sense that you were …”
Jimin blinked, eyes intensely meeting the “fairy’s” for a good ten seconds in complete and total awkward silence as he expected them to say something.
“… definitely experiencing some things that’s for sure.”
Jimin arched his brows, “Hey!” He exclaimed, scoffing, “I’m distressed of reasons that are totally not your business you fairy intruder thing or — whatever the fuck you are!”
The fairy raised their eyebrows. Jimin hesitated.
“W— what are you?”
The fairy sighed, shaking their head side to side as Jimin slowly shied away back under the covers after just realized he had backtalked a very prestigious looking fairy person, “I’m your fairy godfather — unfortunately,” he deadpanned, crossing his arms against his chest, “and whenever our humans are in distress, as you even call it, we have no choice but to follow our orders and fix your problems. Regardless of the level of pettiness.”
“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call mine petty,” Jimin chuckled, scratching behind his head, “more so along the lines of … dealing with a shit family in a shit kingdom surrounded by shit towns made up of shit people.”
The fairy nodded, seeming to understand before going to take a seat on the edge of Jimin’s bed, much to Jimin’s disliking as he watched trails of fairy dust land all over where his butt landed, “Oh I’m … I’m sorry to hear about that. I’m Seokjin by the way, forgot I had to do an introduction.”
Honestly, Seokjin forgetting to introduce himself first and foremost before breaking into Jimin’s bedroom was probably the best and least strangest thing on the list of things that had happened that day, so Jimin couldn’t even find it within himself to find it all that particular either.
He didn’t even know fairies needed introductions, since their grand entrances seemed like enough already.
That was just his personal take on it of course.
But Jimin just brushed it off since it wasn’t anything new to him, “Its fine. I’ve learned to grow and adapt and accept myself for who I am.”
“Wow,” Seokjin stated, startled, “that’s … great! I mean I was called here to see if you needed anything but it seems like you’re doing just fine so maybe I’ll just g—”
“Make me hot.”
Seokjin blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“I said,” Jimin whispered, his voice dropping terrifyingly low and scarily serious in a matter of seconds, and just two minutes into their first meeting — it made one hell of first impressions that’s for sure, “make me hot. For the party later tonight — please.”
He was perplexed to say the least. And no, this isn’t at all in reference to Jimin since Jimin was dead set on what he was passionate for, but Seokjin who could only sit in all his fairy-like glory and stare at Jimin in total bewilderment as if he had just lost his fucking mind.
There was definitely one thing he learned that night, and it was that Jimin was a very vague individual who got straight to the point in the most blunt way possible. No context, no explanation — nothing.
“You— you didn’t even let me finish my introduction on what fairy godpeople do—”
“I demand silence!” Jimin declared, covering the poor fairy’s mouth with his entire hand that surprisingly was able to hide all of it, “Now, I may not know what you fairy people do, but I do assume you’re pretty good with your wands, am I right?”
Seokjin, who was much too scared to say anything in fear of losing his ability to talk or even breathe, just nodded his head briskly under the pressure and disgusting sweaty slobbery warmth of Jimin’s palm.
Jimin smiled, “Grr- eat!” He cheered, punching a fist up into the air, “Now, lets get started, shall we?”
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Honestly, a part of Seokjin was still a bit shocked that Jimin didn’t have a bigger reaction to a literal human sized fairy magically just poofing into existence right in the middle of his own bedroom, not to mention the whirling luminosity that was responsible for carrying Seokjin’s entire body weight there too.
Most people, understandably enough, would need about five minutes on average just to let the realization soak in their brains that there was a winged being in their presence.
But now, only twenty minutes into their meet with Seokjin just about to say his final goodbyes, Jimin and Seokjin were chatting away about the disadvantages of economy’s greatest flaws as if they had known each other their entire lives — as if Seokjin wasn’t this heart-stopping, drop dead gorgeous heavenly being that had just flown down on a whim one day because he was called to do so by a certain someone.
“But yeah, basically what I was saying,” Jimin continued, leaning over to grab a sip of his cocktail that Seokjin whipped up for the both of them using his ‘ penis stick powers’ as Jimin likes to call it, “I’m glad we both kinda stand in that grey area, very mixed feelings very mixed opinions …”
“Oh god, for sure,” Seokjin said, agreeing while listening intently to what Jimin had to say.
In fact, he was probably putting a little too much energy just into the listening portion alone because he still found it fucking weird how Jimin was (temporarily, of course) a whole five inches taller and twenty pounds heavier with the majority of that weight going into his muscles.
So tuning in on rather intense levels helped deflate that fact, if you will.
Plus, it also helped ease Jimin’s own anxiety about going to the palace’s disco a bit later on anyways, so it was an immediate win either way you decided to look at it.
Jimin leaned back against his chair, rocking back and forth on its legs and stretched his arms out above his head sleepily, “Hey, Fairy Man, so you said the spell will wear off at midnight?”
“Yeah, so unless you don’t want people to be confused as fuck, I recommend getting back before you suddenly shrink by like half your artificial height,” Seokjin kidded, tipping back and chugging his own cocktail as Jimin was just finishing up his.
However, other than the whole little midnight rule everyone knew of where the magic just automatically wore off (pretty rememberable and easy to follow as well), there was one other method that Seokjin just totally scrapped the idea of telling Jimin about since he figured it was pretty useless and old fashioned anyways.
So, he let it go, pushing it all the way to the back of his mind and figured it would be of no use to Jimin anyways, making it generally pointless in wasting his own precious breath in telling.
“Yeah yeah, I gotchu,” Jimin reassured, waving it off with his hand, “I can barely even handle my natural appearance anyways so that won’t be a problem.”
Seokjin’s eyes sprung open concerningly at the remark, “Dude, you okay? I know we had a little therapy session before making the last few alterations and stuff but still … I don’t really think this is the best mindset to be —”
“I’m fine, don’t worry about me!” He beamed in response with such a fakely convincing layer of confidence strewn at the letters that Seokjin didn even believed it, “I’ll be okay — I always figure it out on my own anyways.”
His eyes certainly did not shrink at this (horrible and poorly structured) reassurance. “Uhhh dealing with shit on your own is like the absolute worst way to cope with things like this. Did you not know that?”
Jimin played that fact off very coolly that no, he indeed did not , and he blamed that on his extremely poor self esteem skills. “Uhhhhh — of course I did!”
“Yeah,” Seokjin sighed, the realization hitting him harder than the fucking alcohol, “first thing we’re gonna do after your cute little roller skating outing is take you to therapy tomorrow morning, because this is just slightly alarming.”
Though Jimin wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about that idea, he still didn’t fight it and just let it be — shrugging his shoulders in response before chugging down the last drops of his Mimosa.
He just hoped that everyone would treat him decently okayish at the dance tonight, that was the one thing he hoped and wished for more than anything else.
And secretly one other, but that one went along into the same category as to why he changed his looks (just for a couple hours) — because in his mind, it was just simply unachievable.
Although his arm was now longer and broader so he could reach out to grab that dream in the span of these next six hours or so, he still pulled back on that thought just because it linked back to the reality that he was still himself underneath this new (and in his mind, improved) mask — which he still viewed as undesirable.
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But obviously, not everyone thinks the way Jimin does. Nor does everyone believe the same bullshit he does.
When Taehyung first strolled through the roller skating rink and spotted this … new personification of whom he slightly recognized as his childhood friend Jimin, pure muddle had just warped around his mind completely because he simply couldn’t grasp how Jimin was now this six-foot-something macho beast, when just days before he had visited a cat café with the shorter and smaller-in-frame Jimin he had known his entire life.
And previously, he had found nothing wrong with that Jimin.
Because no matter what Taehyung always loved him and always viewed him as ridiculously handsome and beautiful, and there was not a single occurrence where he thought otherwise.
Pausing briefly just right before the rink where dozens of other royals from neighboring kingdoms near and far were roller skating alongside each other, Taehyung took a deep breath in and one deep breath out, before casually making his way over towards Jimin although he hadn’t figured out exactly what to say yet.
Either way, it felt wrong. It felt wrong to acknowledge the physical change and it felt wrong to ignore it since there was a reason behind everything and as Jimin’s closest friend he also knew a good amount of his insecurities as well — so this was clearly no coincidence.
But alas, he made his way over and scooted past several other princes and princesses and high-status officials, as well as the gradual fear that slowly terrorized every fucking cell in his body.
Once he was a few feet within radius of Jimin, as well as countless other guests that seemed to swarm him (which may or may not have wanted Taehyung to give the most exaggerated eye roll in existence because he already knew that each and every single one of them was a fake ass whore), Taehyung made a small hand waving motion and slyly attached himself at Jimin’s side until the other suitors reluctantly took the hint and wandered off to go find other royals to involve themselves with.
Jimin waved them all off, not forgetting to flash each and every one of them a pearly white smile that too seemed much different than his usual sweet and bashful one. Not that Taehyung didn’t like this new smile or this new Jimin, but it just wasn’t him.
And it was a lot harder getting used to it when he knew the exact reasons (even if he didn’t know how or when) as to why Jimin took this route in things.
“Tae!”
Taehyung looked up, meeting eye to eye with Jimin who towered a good two or three extra inches over him now. And although their heights had flip-flopped, Jimin’s cute enthusiasm (even though it was a bit more maintained now for the sake of pulling off the charming look) and the smile in his eyes hadn’t changed one bit.
So, he did what he would’ve done any other time and just went in for the hug — shamelessly latching onto his torso at that, “Jimin! I was looking all over for you and I couldn’t … well—”
Jimin snorted, already knowing that he’d expect some form of confusion from old friends who would be attending the ball as also warned by Seokjin, “Recognize me?”
Taehyung, now a bit ashamed, nodded his head admittedly against Jimin’s chest, “Yeah, sorry.”
“It’s fine, I mean it would be weird if you weren’t at all fazed at me growing five inches overnight or extra muscle mass. Like look, my ass is fat now!” He squealed excitedly, turning around to show off his butt that was very much visible in those extremely tight pairs of bellbottom jeans and even giving it a few enthusiastic slaps because why not.
Taehyung forced a smile, nodding along just for the sake of his own friend’s happiness, “Yeah you look … great! I mean, you always look great, Ji—”
“But I look even better now, I mean,” he began, taking both of Taehyung’s hands in his delicately (which strangely engulfed Taehyung’s even though it’s usually the other way around) before glancing off towards the sea of invited guests, “people are actually coming up to me and asking for my number, asking me to rollerskate with them or take pictures or grab milkshakes. It’s so … different and it’s just hard to believe that me before was the exact same as me now when everyone changes their attitude about you.”
Taehyung’s heart sunk in his chest, splashing as it landed in the deep sea of pure agony for his friend, who he was undeniably still in love with despite all the changes in appearance (not yet attitude).
It was just all too much for him. Even the way Jimin smiled just to reassure him that everything was supposedly “better” now didn’t help in the absolute fucking slightest, because Taehyung knew that Jimin knew that he was still a bit stunned with the new situation at hand here and there was no other feeling he despised more than that.
“But,” Taehyung gulped, voice quieting down slightly in fear of saying the wrong thing, “I think it’s more of a them problem than anything. If they can’t see past our kingdom’s ideals of what men are “supposed” to look like then they need to change that mindset for other people, not expect other people to change for them. Like, a part of it is realizing that the world doesn’t revolve around their own conceited asses, you know?”
But when Taehyung was expecting some form of response back, whether it be verbal or shown in a more physically affectionate way such as a hug or back pat, all he got in return was pure and utter silence.
And due to this newly added layer of confusion on top of the other previous layers of confusion, Taehyung of course followed his instinct and looked up — only to come to the discovery that Jimin wasn’t listening to him at all.
But he was looking off in the distance somewhere else at someone else, someone other than him who was the only one other person he had been engaging in a conversation with ever since the other guests flew off elsewhere.
“Uhh,” Taehyung laughed a bit awkwardly, shoving down his embarrassment until he hoped it would just go away or leave him forever fucking after, “Jimin?” He called, tapping his friend’s shoulder.
Feeling someone’s physical touch against his sleeve, Jimin spun around on his heel and (thankfully) directed his attention back towards Taehyung who, he couldn’t even decline if he wanted to, looked absolutely stunning underneath all the flashing and glittering disco lights that flashed through the reflective glass of the room.
“Oh, sorry I just,” he stammered, his face reddening, “someone just caught my attention.”
Taehyung winced, but regardless shoved that disgusting feeling back down his stomach by nodding energetically at this newly given information. “Who?”
Jimin shrunk shyly at the question, before feebly pointing a finger towards the general direction more towards the skate-renting area, “Prince Jungkook, is what I’m pretty sure his name is. Fucking gorgeous, holy shit, one hell of a dancer too.”
Taehyung gulped, really using all his last shreds of hope here to get him through the rest of the night which had barely even begun, “You’ve … met?”
Jimin considered the question a little while longer, before settling on a very confident, “Yeah, a little bit before you got here I kinda skated around and danced for a bit trying to meet some others and he was one of the ones who asked to dance with me. We kinda hit it off but …”
Taehyung waited, raising an eyebrow expectantly as he twiddled with his sweating hands behind his back, really fucking hoping that it wasn’t anything more than a casual dance — even if that was slightly selfish on his part just because of his well established feelings for his childhood best friend.
“… But … ?”
“My appearance now — you know, the extra inches, the extra muscle, the extra ass,” Jimin playfully swooned, eyes softening despondently, “it’s all gonna go away at midnight so I don’t have much time and, obviously I can’t have Jungkook know I catfished him in real life if we do end up taking things further.”
Fear instantly struck Taehyung. Because he didn’t even need to know the fucking inside scope of what happened a couple hours prior to understand where Jimin was getting at.
“Jimin, don’t tell me you’re —”
“I want to ask my fairy godfather if I can make these changes permanent,” Jimin finalized boldly but quietly, right in between such large differentiating voice tones that scaled somewhere in that grey area between courageous and shameful.
Because even this small part of Jimin knew that this was all foolish on his end, but then again the only reason he was willing to commit himself to this lifestyle instead of his normal one was because he didn’t think his crush in his normal one would like him the way he was.
His crush who was standing right before him, listening in horror as he told Taehyung about possibly making these changes irreversible.
“Jimin, no ,” Taehyung said, clenching his fists and tearing his eyes up to meet Jimin’s fiercely, “I’m not gonna let you change yourself just for some guy you’ve just met. You barely know each other, this could go very wrong very quickly and I know you know that too.”
Did Jimin know that? Well yes, of course he did.
But he wasn’t really set on listening to someone who could only go so far as to empathize with his struggles, and no amount of validation could change that.
Jimin nibbled on his lip indecisively, clearly contemplating his friend’s words even though he already knew what is true motive was with all of this.
“I’m sorry, Tae, I know this is probably what you didn’t expect from me but,” he paused, looking around him before grabbing Taehyung by the wrist and leading them both out to the terrace just outside the palace’s ballroom, “I really do think this will help me, you know? I mean, I’ll be more confident, more happy, more people will like me — there’s no downsides to it other than possibly actually getting my first real experiences at romance for the first time in my life.”
And though it should’ve been a joke, though it should’ve sounded like some lighthearted fun-loving banter, it didn’t.
And that’s what scared Taehyung. It scared him because Jimin was genuinely considering this, considering changing himself forever just for the sake of other people’s approval when he was so blind to the fact that there was someone out there who fell in love with him for the way he is (or was).
“Oh c’mon everyone likes you!” Taehyung chimed hopefully, feeling his heart shatter when he saw Jimin physically cringe at the statement, “I know it a bit more rough with your family but think about it, our entire friend group with Yoongi and Hoseok and Joon, and all the kitchen staff think you’re hilarious! Or— or when we go to town and visit the bakery where the cook always says—”
“Tae, I’m not talking about being just likable,” Jimin expressed, purposely accentuating the word like, “I’m talking about something way, way different than that.”
Taehyung, who was previously watching the moon slowly fade into its last quarter, twirled around abruptly at the flutteriness of the statement. He raised an eyebrow. “Well … what is it then?” He asked softly, walking closer to Jimin so that they still stood at a comfortable distance between each other.
“It’s … it’s,” Jimin stuttered, tripping over his words as he covered his flushed face with his broad hands that conveniently did the job quite well, “it’s about being loveable not … likeable.”
Oh.
Oh.
OH?
Taehyung’s jaw dropped as the gentle breeze genuinely seemed to knock the wind out of his soul , sucking away its life and with every breath that came into it.
He was frozen. Frozen in time because he first and foremost still wished that Jimin didn’t need another’s mutual romantic interest in him to serve as validation that he was indeed out-of-this-world level gorgeous, frozen in time because he loved Jimin and hearing Jimin say so convincingly as well that no one loved him was probably downright the most frustrating sentence he had heard in his entire life.
Tiny, crystalline-like tears gathered at the corners of Taehyung’s eyes, tears built from pure frustration that Jimin couldn’t see himself the way he saw him, and anger towards Jimin for even believing such things about himself just because some insecure idiots tended to reinforce it.
So Taehyung, now fueled with this foreign surge of energy he had never even felt before in his entire life, marched up to Jimin and gripped him by both his arms firmly — not intending to let go anytime soon.
And was he ready to spill every secret of his out to the world? No, but was he willing to just for the sake of proving something Jimin fought so hard against his entire life? Yes.
Jimin froze in place, the shimmering moonlight glazing over those gorgeous brown eyes that hadn’t changed one bit, “Tae, are you —”
“ I love you, you idiot!”
The once dead, coiled up and unusable heart weakly suspended inside Jimin’s chest by the fragility of dying veins, had sprung back to life just with those five words — those comedically and undeniably aggressive flattering words, but words that came from the heart.
His muscles tensed, his eyes were glued open — completely and utterly starstruck and glazed over with an overwhelmingly amount of disbelief that he couldn’t even filter a single thought that went in and out of his head other than pure fucking bliss.
When Jimin didn’t respond, Taehyung just continued — passionately shaking Jimin by the shoulders and arms as if taking him out of his stiffness would help process this any better, “And I’m not saying this as your only reason to change back, o-okay? I’m fucking saying this because I want you to realize that there’s plenty of other people out there who view you the same way I do, and that you should learn from us to start to try and see yourself like that too. Because you’re just so fucking pretty and I hate it when you talk down about yourself as if you’re not.”
Taehyung sniffled, gripping the fabric of Jimin’s silky red button down shirt that was now undoubtedly stained with his tears and god knows what other fluids, “And no bitchass, I’m not saying this to gain fucking pity or to put you on the spot. I’ve been prepping myself ever since the start for this moment so you don’t need to go into a whole tangent about how you don’t feel the same way and you want to stay friends and blah blah bl—”
“Actually,” Jimin whispered, his voice, for the first time in a whole minute and a half, making an appearance verbally, “I like you too,” he laughed quietly, shaking his own head from side to side since this all seemed surreal before gently placing his hands on Taehyung’s shoulders and tipping his chin up so it was facing him , “or, love if we’re going by — Uh, I’ve never really done a confession before so I’m sorry if this is shit.”
“Wait, stop the music,” Taehyung choked, eyes enlarged to their full capacity, “you too!? What the hell man—” he cried out horrendously, dropping to the ground until he was kneeling and fully sobbing out into his hands at a disgusting but equally endearing rate.
Becoming a little stunned himself with the outcome of things, Jimin too fell to the floor and slowly wrapped his arms around Taehyung’s back, “But thank you, y’know for everything. It means a lot and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” he whispered sweetly, talking to the moon who seemed to be giving him a thumbs up of good luck in front of him.
“A-apologize!?” Taehyung screeched, “apologize for what!?”
“For, well,” Jimin hesitated awkwardly there, feeling an ugly amount of anxiety hurdle up at him inside his throat, “not telling you earlier that I liked you, I guess would be it.”
Taehyung made an ‘o’ shape with his mouth as shuffled songs filtered in and out of his thoughts that solely revolved their mutual confessions, lord fuck.
“It’s no biggie, I didn’t tell you either so I guess that makes us both wimps,” Taehyung snorted, his sniffled cries being slowly overcome by gallons of laughter.
Which, in turn, couldn’t help but make Jimin laugh too.
Because god fuck, those beautiful laughs really were dangerously contagious.
“I can’t believe you just said no biggie.”
“And you bargained with a fairy!”
Jimin pulled back, slanting a brow, “Okay I admit, it’s not my greatest innovation of all time but —”
“Yeah,” Taehyung agreed, pulling back just to get an excuse to check Jimin out as far as the timing was applicable, “It really wasn’t.”
“Did you just—” Jimin faltered, the vivid blush on his cheeks surely visible now, “check me out?”
“Pfft as if—”
Jimin narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “I just saw you do it.”
Taehyung paused in mid-air, fatefully flattening his lips out into thin line, “Yeah you’re right, sorry.”
Jimin waved that off, failing to fight off the smile that won the ownership of his lips in the end, “It’s whatever. But um … can I ask something that may totally just be irrationally idiotically dumb and embarrassingly humiliatingly stupid?”
“At this point, neither of us have anything to lose so go ahead,” Taehyung deadpanned, reassuring Jimin with a sweet smile that it indeed was perfectly okay.
“Alright, well I guess since we’re here, we kinda I guess like each other, and we’re kinda on a terrace overlooking the entire kingdom with the stars shining on us and shit, and I’m kinda wondering if you’d like, wanna kiss or something I guess.”
“Wow,” Taehyung blubbered, hardcore glitching, “okay that wasn’t very romantic but points to you for asking because I was honestly just thinking about that.”
“Dude no way that’s so crazy,” Jimin gasped, eyes wide as Taehyung nodded vigorously in agreement.
“Right!? It’s totally wicked!”
“We’re just procrastinating aren’t we.”
Taehyung was a man of truth, so of course he couldn’t bring himself to lie either even if he really fucking wanted to. “Yeah… I think so.”
Giggling at the ridiculousness of if, Jimin just shook his head from side to side before slowly tracing a hand up Taehyung’s cheek and pulling him close, waiting for a signal to lean in and connect their hearts onto the same loveline.
And when Taehyung was close enough so that Jimin could see the strawberry blush dancing on his cheeks and the twinkling stars reflecting in his eyes like little pixies, Jimin finally closed the gap between them — finalizing their love as an everlasting one.
But, that isn’t there it ends. And far from it.
Because just as their lips connected, just as their first kiss as lovers was seen from all the way up in the clouds that scurried along the entrance of heaven, a blinding bright white light shone itself from the very place their lips met until it hid them both from the public eye in a veil that was the same color as the stars.
A fairy sat somewhere among those clouds, watching them, and watching the magic happen, clapping their hands excitedly and quietly rooting for them ever since the beginning.
And when the magic did happen, when Jimin returned to his normal self that he was just hours prior when he pleaded Seokjin to make him “hot”, his fairy godfather couldn't even begin to hide his sheer happiness even if he tried.
Because with a true love’s kiss, everyone knows that they love each other for their own authentic selves.
and they lived a happily ever after.
the end.
APPARENTLY THIS ACTUALLY EXISTS:
Cole, Babette.
Prince Cinders. 1988.
A fairy grants a small, skinny prince a change in appearance and the chance to go to the Palace Disco.
[Center for Children’s Books S.398.2C6742p1988]
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