Work Text:
The Nutcracker
The party was going great. Everyone reconnected with family members that were typically on the other side of the country. Most had just arrived from long journeys that it took to get here. The best mode of transport for the early 1900s was the railroad, so at least it was more convenient than the earlier days, which the elders of the family made sure everyone understood.
You stood in your Christmas dress your mom had stitched together for you. Your hair fell down in ringlets, falling from a bow your maid had forced upon you. You stayed by the side, near the refreshments. Everyone at the party was either an old adult that would find some way to scold you for doing nothing or something and an aggressive child that would try to kill you. You know, normal family stuff.
Especially your little brother. You did your best to avoid the living shit out of him, but that was a little hard as he was your little brother who lived with you. He was a rat if you ever saw one. Constantly stealing your high quality porcelain dolls to mess around with, bugging you when you read, asking “why” at the dinner table every single time. And when you’d give an answer, it would only be responded to with more “why”s. You did not like him.
As you idly stood by, watching everyone enjoy themselves, someone tapped on your shoulder. You looked at who it was, gracing a smile to your grandfather.
“You’re here.”
“Better late than never.” You turned and embraced him for a long few seconds, soon gathering the attention of your other relatives.
“You’re finally here, father?” your aunt from your mother’s side asked, more so stated. “I heard you were off traveling in Europe.”
“Aye, that I was!” your grandfather gently pushed you off, speaking to a small crowd that had gathered around him. “And what a trip it was. France, Germany, Italy, Austria, and England. All lovely places, so different from each other.”
“What was it like-” your inquiry was muted by your disdainful little brother, who had run up and first yelled loud enough for the entire party to hear.
“DID YOU BRING PRESENTS?” A few adults laughed, while you sharply hit his arm.
“Wouldn’t you rather greet grandpa first, (b/n)?” you spoke stiffly. Your grandpa touched your shoulder, mouthing you an ‘it’s okay’ before turning to the boy.
“I sure did, scout. But why don’t we save the best for last and let me give your cousins theirs?” (B/n) frowned, but nodded and crossed his arms with a pout. You rolled your eyes and pulled him away, engaging in a brief dialogue.
“What did mom say about you and manners?”
“That we’re good?”
“... She said that you needed to work on them, remember? Take grandpa’s entrance for example-”
“THAT’S MY TOY-” he ran from your grasp and ran over to the other kids, probably to make more girls cry. You already had one instance where you had to come and apologize for him pulling on a cousin’s braid for taking his kingdom from him.
Yet again, you were deserted. At least, you had hoped you were.
“(Y/n),” you heard an irritatingly familiar voice call your own. With the fakest of smiles, you pivoted and greeted the person.
“Aunt (A/N), hello! You look very healthy, this year,” your conversational class came with its benefits, despite how dull it was.
“And you yourself, dear,” she scanned you briefly from your toes to your head. “You looked rather thin last year. You wouldn’t have gotten yourself a man over the year, have you?” This again. Every. Goddamn. Year.
“Haha, no Aunt (A/N). Still as free as a bird,” you replied, as always.
“Well, you’d better fix that,” she replied. As. Always. “You’re not getting any younger, dear.”
“Perhaps not,” you forcefully agreed with her. “But I suppose neither is ‘the one’, wouldn’t you say so?”
“‘The one’ you speak of may get himself a different one, if you don’t find him soon enough,” your aunt started scolding you less than talking.
“Well, we’ll just have to hope he’s here next year,” you said, hoping to drop the topic.
“Yes, hope,” she almost spat. Just as the awkward silence sat in, your grandpa called you over.
“(Y/n)! Get over here! You wouldn’t happen to want to see what I got for you from Europe, would you?” You grinned and quickly curtsied your exit and hurried over to your much more progressive grandfather.
“WHAT I GET WHAT I GET,” your brother screeched. Your grandfather chuckled, as he always did with the child’s antics. It impressed you.
“This,” he presented a box to the boy, who snatched it and opened it as soon as he got his hands ahold of it. His face lit up, as opposed to falling as it had for just about every gift he got that day. “It’s a rat king.”
“IT’S SO COOL,” he picked it up and ran off, probably to show it off to the others. You shook your head, picking up the box and holding onto it. Your grandpa then extended a similar shaped box to you. You laughed.
“If it’s another rat, I’m going to hit you,” he laughed at your response.
“No, no, it’s not a rat.” You opened it.
A wooden soldier, beautifully painted and smoothly carved. You took it out, carefully stroked it and feeling the smoothness and quality of the wood.
“It’s a nutcracker,” your grandpa explained. “They’re from Germany. They’re able to crack nuts with that lever on the back, but in my opinion, that one’s too pretty to use.”
“It certainly is,” you smiled. You tested the level on the back, seeing its mouth open and close. You grinned and looked back at your giver. “Thank you very much, grandpa.”
“Merry Christmas, (y/n),” he pulled you into a hug, which you made sure to give extra effort into. Now the moment was nice, it was beautiful. But you know who’s great at ruining those things?
“What’s that,” your brother demanded to see, more than ask.
“A nutcracker,” you bent down to show him, a dreadful mistake on your part. Because in that moment, like he normally did, he tried to take it. “And it’s not yours,” you pulled back on it. Also a stupid idea on your part.
“Let me SEE,” he pulled, far too hard, taking the head of the gift, detaching it from the rest of the body. Your face fell twenty stories.
The crack had gathered much attention from the party, several eyes turning to look at you. You hadn’t noticed, too engrossed in replaying what just happened.
Perhaps your reaction would be considered an excessive one. Perhaps someone who would say that didn’t understand the presents from your grandpa were the only ones that really filled you with joy and excitement, giving you glimpses of the world you hoped one day to see. As a woman in the 1900s, life was boring and dull to you. You wanted something more. And your grandpa was the only one who entertained that desire. With his gifts.
So maybe you storming out of the room was a bit too much. Maybe it was immature. But maybe, just maybe, it was because even your little brother had decided that you didn’t deserve your dreams. That you weren’t allowed to have them.
You spent the day crying and thinking. Would life be better if you ran away? No, no one would just give you a home or a ferry to another continent. You were just a woman after all. Maybe you could avoid your brother for a month. No meals, errands, anything. You could survive off your secret candy stash, right?
The more you bargained, the more you felt like crying, which would repeat the cycle over and over again. Hours had passed when someone finally knocked on your door. You ignored it.
“It’s grandpa.” You stayed quiet. “I’m coming in,” the door creaked opened. You heard his footsteps as he approached your bed, sitting on the edge of it and gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “Look, child,” he called you that sometimes. It was fine, you looked up to him sometimes more than your own parents.
You glanced over, sitting up when you saw the nutcracker. He now had a cloth tied around where it’s neck was, holding it in place.
“He can’t open his mouth now, but he still looks rather handsome, no?” he cracked a smile. You naturally gave one back, reaching out for it gently. You held onto it, looking at it once more. For a little while that’s what you did, when you finally sighed and told him.
“I’m sorry for doing that. It’s been…” you pursed your lip. “Hard. (B/n) didn’t help. You don’t know what it’s like, having every female ask you if you have a man yet, when you’re getting married. When they propose to match you up with someone they know. I hate it. You’re probably the only one who doesn’t ask. Who tells me of the places you visit. Who tells me I can go and see it one day too… That’s why I ran out.” He held your hand softly.
“It’s alright dear. You’re right, I don’t understand. It sounds so hard. But please be strong for me. You will see Paris. You will see London. You will see Rome. You will see Shanghai. You will see Istanbul. You will see them all. I know you will. Don’t give up. No matter what the world throws at you, pick it up and keep moving.” He kissed your forehead, standing up.
“I can tell the family that you have a fever. Stay here and relax, dear,” he smiled at you. You smiled, suppressing tears.
“Thank you.” He left, and you, exhausted from the crying, fell asleep, nutcracker in hand.
You woke up late at night, the nutcracker still in hand. It had to be ridiculously early in the morning. Yet your sleep only told your body that it was time to getup nonetheless. You quickly lit the oil lamp by your bed, picking it up and walking to the living room. The Christmas tree lights lit up the dark room, leaving little work to your lamp. You sighed, sitting on the sofa that allowed you to sit and look at the decorated tree. You barely noticed that the nutcracker was still in your hand. It wasn’t a comfortable companion, but nonetheless one.
You had almost dozed off at the relaxing sight when you heard something break, like glass. Your eyes shot open and looked around you. You got up, all of a sudden prepared to use your ‘companion’ as a weapon for whatever lurked in the shadows.
Another crash made you jump, looking towards the tree you just examined. A look down at the illuminated floor revealed a rat among broken ornament fragments. Frankly, rats were not a fun thing. So, you did what you naturally would do, and screamed. And then passed out. Because you’re apparently a strong independent woman.
Coming to, was by far the craziest and most radical thing that had happened in your entire life. That’s because someone was lightly slapping your face awake. That in itself wasn’t abnormal, your maid did that all the time. But when you actually opened your eyes, the person you saw before you was definitely a stranger. Well, a handsome one, a very handsome one. But that didn’t change the fact that a stranger was holding you up in what you presumed to be your house.
“Are you okay?” he barely got the words out before you pulled yourself out from him, crawling backwards away with wide eyes.
“Who. Are. You,” you demanded. He expressively blinked his eyes in surprise at your actions. He didn’t respond, which caused you to look at your surroundings, which were fairly ridiculous.
The living room had gotten bigger much bigger. Everything was extremely large, enough so that you were looking up at the lowest branch of the Christmas tree. You were about to turn your curiosities back to the stranger, when he grabbed it before you could.
“Look, we don’t have a lot of time, the rat-king-” he was interrupted by a glass crash, the same one you had been hearing before you passed out. But much, much louder.
You turned around to see what the sound was, frozen in place when you saw it. A large rat, the size of a human, standing up right, sword in hand, swinging to another ornament. Yes, you read that correctly.
“What the f-” You were pulled up in the next instant, arm wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you closer into the stranger.
“Stay back!” he called out. Perhaps a little too “extra”. You quirked a brow and looked at him, uncomfortable by the close range but not too flustered. He briefly looked down at you, nervously looking back at the weird rat-human soldiers. He looked like he knew what he was doing. One-hundred percent.
The rats glanced at you, hunching over as they approached. Okay, maybe challenging them was not a good idea. The stranger didn’t seem to take the hint. So, you did. Untangling yourself from his grasp, you grabbed him by the sleeve and ran in the other direction.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” He yelled.
“RUNNING FROM THE ABNORMALLY LARGE RATS, PERHAPS?”
“I’LL FIGHT THEM OFF!”
“OH SURE, YOU WILL.”
“EXCUuuUUSE ME?”
“RATS.”
“WHAT ABOUT THEM?”
“I MEANT RATS, LIKE THE EXPRESSION, WE’RE TRAPPED!”
“Oh, right.” You turned back, stuck in the corner you had ran into. The rats were definitely not slow, even if they were standing on two legs like they were in some crazy Tim Burton film.
“I’ll protect you,” the stranger pulled something from his side, unsheathing a sword and pointing it towards the rats. You may have been impressed, if not the next second one of the rats hit their own swords against his, causing it to shatter. Perfect.
“Hmm,” you voiced a high-pitched noise of concern.
“That… doesn’t happen often…” the stranger’s voice faltered as he carefully took a few steps back. This scenario dragged on until your backs were literally pressed against the still abnormally large wall. It was at that moment when someone intervened.
“Well, well.” The rats backed off at the sound of his voice. Clearing the way, they revealed another strange man, brown hair with similarly colored ears. “Jin. Or should I say, the Nutcracker. What an odd situation the old man has put you in.” You had no idea what he was saying until your stranger responded.
“So you’re the rat king, Taehyung? How fitting.”
“Shut up, you’re literally a wooden toy,” the rat king shifted his attention to you. “So she’s the heroine.” You rose an eyebrow.
“My name is (y/n), thank you very much.”
“Hey, she’s smarter than the last one. Good for you.”
“What are you doing, Taehyung. You know the drill: we fight, I win, take the girl on some fantasy honeymoon. Chop, chop, we don’t have all day.” You kept looking between the two, confused by their inside dialogue.
“Y’know, Jin, that gets so boring. Let’s change it up, a bit, huh? Your girl looks like she can take a bit of adventure. What do you say, how about you take a break from Mr. Save the Girl and let me take over, yah?”
“In your dreams,” he pointed his sword, flusteredly pulling it back when he remembered it had been shattered. Taehyung responded with a laugh.
“Fond of this one? Alright, fine. You leave me with one option,” he unsheathed a sword of his own. Perfectly unharmed. So maybe it was a little unfair when he rushed forward and started attacking ‘Jin’. You scurried back, avoiding any off target blows. You had to say, Jin was holding his ground despite having the lower ground of the fight. However, he was not exactly winning the fight either. Now even though this situation was incredibly obscure and you expected to wake up any minute on the couch to the sounds of dawn, you figured that Jin was supposedly your friend in this bizarre scenario. And your friend was losing.
You looked around, getting an idea and scurrying over to a pile of debris from the broken ornaments. Picking up a long shard, you ran back and charged at the rat king.
He was definitely not expecting that, as he stumbled backwards, completely taken off guard. He held onto the wound you managed to place on his right shoulder, taking his hand away briefly to see blood. He laughed.
“Wow. This one’s different alright,” he looked back at you. You kept your shard in front of you, ready to defend yourself. This only caused him to let out another laugh. “(Y/n), right?” You slowly nodded. “It’s not everyday the heroine saves the hero.” You didn’t know how to respond. “So I guess I’ll back off this once. Good luck with this one, Jin,” he turned around, waving his rats to follow him. When he was gone, you looked over at who you supposed was the “hero”.
“So your name is Jin?”
“So your name is (y/n). Now tell me, why on earth would you do something so dangerous, do you have ANY idea what that rat could’ve done to you?”
“Your Welcome,” you threw down the shard. “Like you weren’t in anymore danger than me.”
“I’m the NUTCRACKER, I’m supposed to save YOU.”
“WELL YOU SURE SEEM TO BE DOING A PRETTY SHIT JOB AT IT.”
“WELL… YOU….”
“Mhmmmm?”
“...JUST…. NNN.”
“Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
“UGH YOU RUINED THE WHOLE STORY. NOW I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT’S SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN.”
“What? What’s supposed to happen, better yet what the hell is going on?” You charged towards him, angrily looking up at him. Why was he so freaking tall? He avoided eye contact, more so out of frustration.
“You know what’s going on, we were chased by rats-”
“No. What is going on. Why is my house ten times bigger, why were those rats so weird, who are you, and what on earth is going on?” You spoke quietly but sternly. He finally looked down on you.
“I’m your nutcracker.”
“What?”
“The nutcracker. The one your grandfather gave you. The one your brother broke. By the way, that was REALLY rude of him, like, I’m human too, y’know-”
“And that’s what’s weird. You’re human. Not a wooden present from Germany. You’re not even German-”
“Look, details. Your grandfather gave me to you, and now you’re here.”
“Where is here?” you started holding your head from how confused it was.
“Your house… This is your house-”
“Stop this.” His eyes widened. Tears were now spilling from your eyes again for the hundredth time that day. You kept eye contact. “I don't think,” you sniffled in between words. “You understand exactly how I feel. I feel like I had too much sugar and now I’m going crazy. Which is probably what is happening. There’s no way you’re my nutcracker, and there’s no way any of this is real. I’m definitely losing my mind.” You couldn’t stop crying as you finished your thought.
Arms wrapped around you, chin resting atop your head. You cried for a bit as the supposed “nutcracker” held you. You let him, not fully understanding what your reality was anymore. You felt a vibration that seemed like a chuckle from his chest.
“I don’t think this has happened before.” You didn’t know what he was talking about, upsetting you even more. “I don’t remember anyone questioning the reality of these things so much. You must really be hurting. It’s okay. Cry a little bit more.” You unwillingly obeyed, moistening his oddly realistic clothes.
“So I’m guessing you have no idea what your uncle does, am I right?” He didn’t hear an answer but kept going. “I guess that makes sense. You don’t see him very much, after all. He’s always working.” He paused. “You won’t remember this in the morning, but I’ll tell you anyway.” Your crying stopped as you pulled away, wiping any remaining tears and looking up at him.
He took that as his cue. “We’re dream fulfillers. By “we” I mean your uncle, that guy you saw earlier, me, and a couple others. You were supposed to meet them, but I guess this isn’t going to be the typical “Nutcracker” dream. We basically do what it sounds like. We help people achieve their dreams by giving them the dreams they want. Through that, we implant the determination of the client to fulfill that dream in the real world. Everyone has a different dream. We technically only have a certain amount of dreams we can act out though. But we try to apply the ones we can form to the dreamer. Yours happened to be the Nutcracker.” He placed a hand on your shoulder.
“You want adventure, right?” You said nothing. “Your grandfather told us to fulfill your dream as a special favour. We hoped that you would go through the whole dream and wake up, ready to go out and conquer the world. But, things have changed…” You were silent for a moment.
“So… this is a dream?”
“Yes. You’ll wake up,” he paused, eyes wide. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit, SHIT.”
“What?!” You grew nervous as he started pacing back and forth.
“UHHH,” he stopped, facing you. “Don’t freak out. But… I don’t know how to wake you up.” You stared at him with a puzzled look.
“Don’t I just… wake up?”
“Well, not exactly. When we start these dreams, they don’t end until we get to the final part of the dream’s story. And since you kind of messed that up…”
“So it’s my fault.”
“No, no. I mean it's technically Taehyung’s, I have no idea why he let me get beat up by that rat… But that’s not the point…”
“So I’m going to be asleep forever.”
“No! No, that can’t happen. You’ll wake up… But the dream has to end…”
“How does the dream end?”
“I think when we start dancing with the sugar plum fairy, but we didn’t get transferred to that world… Or is it when I kill the rat king when he returns? ‘There’s no place like home’? No…” he started pacing again. You chuckled a bit, amused at this child-like behaviour. He stopped suddenly again, like he did last time, but more abruptly this time. He slowly pivoted towards you.
“Oh yeah… it’s that kind of dream…” his face was inexplicably red. He struggled to make eye contact, continuing as he looked away. “Now don’t get mad at me, your grandpa was the one who made it that kind of dream…”
“What.”
“Well,” he pulled his hand behind his neck, nervously stretching it around. “He wanted a romance dream for you. Something about wanting you to have a nice fantasy with a hansome young man…”
“And?”
“WELL,” he hesitantly approached you. He stopped in front of you, looking at his feet. “I think,” he looked up.
“I’m supposed to kiss you.” You simply stared, not fully grasping what he said. When you did, your face blossomed into a red.
“No.”
“But… you won’t wake up…”
“I’m not giving my first kiss to some tall wooden soldier.”
“I am human, thank you very much. And a handsome one at that.”
“And a humble one at that.”
“If you want this dream to be over, you have to accept that.” You stayed silent for a little while longer. You quickly changed the subject, disregardless of it being unavoidable.
“What will happen when I wake up?” He looked up, like he was thinking for a moment, giving a humming sound.
“Well,” he crossed his arms and shifted his weight to his other foot. “I suppose you’ll be inspired by whatever happened in this dream.” You rose an eyebrow.
“Crippling confusion and anxiety?”
“No, this wasn’t supposed to be a nightmare. We do that sometimes, but obviously this wasn’t supposed to be one.” He followed his own little line of thought. “Maybe courage?” you quirked up an eyebrow.
“Courage?”
“You defended me from the rat king. That was really brave of you.” He unintentionally looked you in the eye as he praised you. You looked away, nervously shifting your weight.
“I also ran away from those rats you tried to attack.”
“Whom were obviously stronger than I was. So, wit. Instinct? I can’t quite place it.” You nodded.
“So… courage and wit. Is that supposed to help me with something?”
“That depends. Do you have a goal?” You thought for a second, but it didn’t take long for the answer to jump out at you.
“I want to explore the world.”
“...Interesting… does anything hold you back?” he tilted his head.
“Well… I’m just a girl who stays home and learns how to sew and do all that boring stuff. I don’t know how I’m supposed to “explore the world” in that scenario. My parents aren’t exactly the most progressive people in the world…”
“So, and I can’t say this for certain, but maybe this dream will give you the courage to finally take action to achieving your goal.”
“I wish all I needed was courage,” you sighed.
“Maybe it really is,” he smiled. Oh shit, it was really cute. Speaking of…
“So…” you sighed. It had to be done. “That… kiss?”
“Oh,” he blushed, again. “Yeah, that. Uhm, do you want me to do it? Or like, meet halfway, or-”
“Is this the first time you’ve kissed someone in a dream or something?”
“Well, no,” he shifted his foot around. “But other times I was a prince or appeared as a really strong dude, but that doesn’t really apply here…”
“You’re my nutcracker?”
“Well, yeah, but I’m still a real person. I go back to my body after the dream ends. And you know I’m a sentient person, so this kind of just changes everything…”
“Well then,” you walked up to him. You saw his broad shoulders tense up and his adam’s apple shift. You stopped in front of him, looking up.
“... you’re… kind of tall,” you stuttered. He cleared his throat with a short nod, slowly leaning down to your face. Oh my god, that made your heart race.
Next, you did the deed. Getting on your tiptoes, you reached up and pressed your lips to his. It was small, soft, a simple brush. But it woke you up, just as he had said you would.
The ferry horn woke you from your slumber, eyes shooting open as you saw the cabin you were in. The horn blew again. You must’ve been arriving after what seemed like almost a month of being at sea. You stretched, getting up and looking out of the small porthole from your cabin. Land. New land ready for you to discover.
It wasn’t easy, convincing your parents to let you go. You endured what your family considered “shameful”, and got a job, earning money and a living for yourself. It wasn’t as grand as your old life. You lived in a minimalist apartment in a city, the hot water wouldn’t always work, your electricity wouldn’t work, and you had to keep warm during the winters with a fireplace. Perhaps it wasn’t the luxurious lifestyle most people wanted, but you were perfectly happy with it. You stayed away from home as much as you could anyway.
You started small. Moving around the country, catching rides from strangers. When you finally got used to that style of living, you went bigger. You got a passport, and you went places you had dreamed of. You were living your life’s dream.
You didn’t remember how it happened. You just got the courage to finally do it one day. Despite nearly your entire family’s disdain for you, your grandfather was still as proud of you as he always had, and that was enough for you.
You stepped off the ferry with your briefcase, documents out for the immigrations and customs officer. Once you were through, you wondered at the new place you were in. It was your first time in Asia, and it was so much different from home.
But Korea was beautiful. The people were busy, the children were playing, and merchants by the port had already caught a few tourists who had came off the same boat you did. The architecture was so lovely to you.
You got lost in it when you bumped into someone, forcefully pushing you on the ground and dropping your suitcase with you.
You next heard concerned banter, and a presence crouched down next to you. You looked up, meeting a rather handsome young man. However something seemed odd when his eyes widened as he saw your face.
“(Y/n)?” your eyes widened.
“How do you know my name?” he seemed flustered, mumbling in his language, which you couldn’t understand. He said your name pretty smoothly nonetheless. Which raised the question of how he knew it. He helped you up, picking up your case for you.
“Thank you,” you said. He blinked confusedly, simply nodding. He probably couldn’t understand you.
“... I’m (y/n),” you tried. His face lit up as he cleared his throat and pronounced his words with a heavy accent. But it was clear and beautiful nonetheless.
“I am Jin.”