#also yeah the picture in the post is what a raven egg looks like apparently | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

magicalgirlfumiko · 5 years ago

Text

Just feel like posting one of my short stories set in this blog’s world.

The Dwindling Flowers chronicles the lives of several young mages that work for the Organisation (The Original Agency). They are magical soldiers called the Flowers to trained to fight evil born from curses of mankind. These people no longer exist to the world. Their memories are wiped clean and their family never knew they ever existed. These mages live solely to protect the balance of the worlds. Why they were chosen to become Flowers, is for the Organisation‘s ears only. The difference between our world and the world of Dwindling Flowers' Organization primarily comes from magic. As such, the 'timeline,' as it were, has diverged in several places. For starters, Nikola Tesla was a celebrated mage scientist until his death in 1945 of natural causes in the Great Magickal War of 1914-1953. His wireless telegraphy system expanded into cordless and cellular phones by 1960, though it was deadened by 1969 after consumers lost confidence in American industry. This brings us to the present day. The Cold War instead ended in 1998 with the dissolution of the Soviet Union, after which they lost a special little magical super soldier to the Organisation. The cellphone industry boomed as well. And Provere, France? Well, things are getting a little strange.

Provere City, France 04:50 A.M. 21 Nov. 2013

Judith pushed her hat down over her eyes. The men and women of the Provere police force all knew her, but she was still trying to at least be a little inconspicuous. She walked over the Jeanne d'Arc bridge with purpose, though, as the latest victim of the 'Morpheus' murders still hung below. Her report was that he was hung by a rope of braided human hair.

The victim himself, one Ansolom Broussard, was a simple taxi driver from the eastern district. The slums. He was a heavy-set man, with a family to feed. Someone was going to have to tell them. It wasn't Judith though. She just wanted the details, like the answer why to the fact that his cab was found three miles away abandoned, the ticket still marked. It was warm but dark and humid. A light rain coming down, as typically happened on the nights of these murders. She watched the cops pull the body up, and watched as the coroner and the R.I.S. closed up the scene and sampled the follicles from the noose. The only reason they could tell it was hair in the first place was that whoever did this left some at the top of the bridge. As the R.I.S. worked on the hair samples, she was busy taking pictures of the body. The first picture was the face and neck, showing lacerations and bruising from the noose, as well as an obvious change of angle in the windpipe. Next was the torso, which showed almost no damage except perhaps where it hit the abutment below. A close-up of each hand seemed to show no resistance. Curious. Hardly any scuffing on his shoes either. She went about her business and took pictures of the noose after the R.I.S.had finished sampling. “Thanks, Dion,” she said, smiling wanly. The rain picked up a little bit, a constant drizzle now. She turned to her phone, compiling the messages into a mass text. Constant; Camille; Piper CC: Crime Scene #6 Attached are seven pictures of the victim and the apparent murder weapon. It's definitely connected. Meet me on the Jeanne d'Arc in twenty minutes. That should give us enough time. -J Also, Constant – Leave Katyusha out of this. She didn't have time for petty politics, so she just nipped that in the bud.

"Oo ye yi!" Screamed a young woman with raven hair as her phone buzzed.

Her name was Camille. She was a mage of Acadian ancestry that had been selected by the Organisation due to her efficiency with French Alchemist tomes and spells upon leaving Quebec to further her mage studies.

Camille had been drinking some warm coffee that just been brewed on the small stove top in her shared apartment with Constant. She nearly jumped out of her clothing when her phone's buzzer went off, causing her fumble around the cramped kitchen to reach for the device. Upon pulling the phone out, it appeared to be rather large and clunky. This technology was one of a newer type of fusion between modern science and magic.

"Oh god...." She muttered. Her eyes looked drained as she began to study the photographs closely. She always had to deal with the pictures of corpses first since Constantina conventionally seemed to always misplace her phone.

"CONTAST!" Camille yelled as she walked out of the kitchen sideways just to get out of that room and into the shared main common area where both of their beds were.

"The boss w-wants us to be get ready for something...." She then tossed the phone at her partner. "Just look at those p-photos. They are some of the worst in recent memory!"

"S-She also said not to get your girlfriend involved." Camille said this to annoy Constant for not having her phone again.

Constantina, the Greek operative of the Organisation , blinked sleepily. She heard her Quebecian sidekick distantly yell her name. “conSTANT!”

:I told you to stop calling me that...” She thought in her haze. "The boss w-wants to be get ready for something....”

“Huh? Yeah, she usually did.”.

“Just look at those p-photos. They are some of the worst in recent memory..." Consti felt the phone hit her smack in the stomach, and she opened her eyes. Seriously. What now? Their cramped barrack room was stuffy with the odd heat.

Yawning, she sat up, phone still on her stomach. "S-She also said not to get your girlfriend involved."

Damn it! Stop calling her that! “Shut up about Katyusha! She's not my girlfriend!” Of course, that got Constantina fired up. It always did. The absolute loathing she had for that woman... But in the end, didn't she want to be just like her? Eyes still half glazed with sleep, she picked up the phone and scrolled through the pictures. “Huh. This is bad. Not the worst I've ever seen, but pretty terrible.”

She rolled out of bed, grabbing yesterday's gear to slip it back on. It wasn't dirty, she had only worn it for a meeting with Judith. Of course, she mimicked Katyusha's deadpan. It really wasn't THAT bad, and even though you never really get used to seeing a corpse, she had to seem strong for her partner. After she got dressed, she stole a cup of Camille's coffee. She didn't even like the stuff, but she needed caffeine desperately. “Hey, Cami, can you help me find my phone?” She tripped over it the next moment. “Never mind...” Katyusha will not be involved. Ever. Thanks. She shot Judith a text.

Camille cocked an eyebrow at the half awake Constantina. "R-Really? With how much you complain about that Soviet, I would think you secretly harbor a deep caring for her." Once again she continued to egg Constant on.

Camille understood why Constantina wished to be well respected like that Russian. Katyusha was a force to be reckoned with. Whenever Camille came across her, she kept her distance. "O-Okay, maybe they aren't the worst photographs ever." Camille sighed. "I just don't like always having to be the first ones that see them. You're the scout, I'm the backup...What happens if I am not there to do the research for you?" "Hey!!! My coffee..." Camille sighed. Once again, her small pot was swiped. It seemed that after this meeting, she would have to go to the cafe for tea. Ten minutes later, Constantina and Camille stepped out into the street. The weather was unnaturally warm for November. It was 21 degrees Celsius, rainy and humid as hell.

“This is going to do wonders to my hair,” Consti thought almost absentmindedly. She pushed her hood over her head, both to protect her hair and to attempt to hide her sword. Her favorite camera was tucked safely in its waterproof bag, so she didn't have to worry about that.But... this case.

Why were the Flowers being put on it? She had to admit that the bit about the hair was weird - and awful. But, really? Most of their cases were much more... odd. Much more bloody, too, like the case of the bull spirit. It gored seventeen people in one night before it was put down.

That was a Katyusha case though. She helped, what little she could, but... damn it. She really had to stop thinking about that Russian reject.“

Hey, you think we should hail a cab? Or just take the truck?” That was always the difficult part. Sometimes a cab was helpful because they never, ever listened to traffic laws, but at the same time, hiding a sword on her back was way harder. Stupid time of year for her to be taking lead on a case.

Was she ready?---The girls were late, again. Judith realized they were just waking up, most of them anyway. This scene was getting colder, however, and Constantina knew better. The coroner was packing the body away, taking it to the morgue for the autopsy. If this was anything like the last murder, they'd find his stomach filled with hair as well.She fired off another text to the girls.You're late.

Again.She didn't really think she needed to expound on that, Constantina knew it was for her. You're supposed to be leading these girls, Constant, not teaching them how to be lazy. Oh, well, she would give her a new ass later.

"Do you have enough money to take a cab?" Camille asked Constant.

If there was a constant theme for Constantina and Camille was that money between them was always short. Camille was constantly buying random old objects and texts to add to her collection. The older an item was, the more likely that it could have hidden potential magic.

"Then again...I am not sure if I trust you with driving the unit's truck...Ever since the Cheval Mallet incident, I-I still have flashbacks to when you used it to ram that otherworldly horse into the depths of the sea." Camille said.

She then hugged her book bag that contained her spell book. Sometimes it was hard to tell if she was actually friends with Constantina or one of her biggest critics.

“That horse was kidnapping people, so I hit it with the truck. Sue me,” was Consti's retort.

“Anyway, I suppose you can drive - if you get the lead out.”

Cheval Mallet was supposedly folklore, but with the history of the Flowers, and even what each girl could do... Not everything is as fake as people think.

They hit the road a few minutes later, air conditioning blaring. Constantina was extremely tempted to kick Camille out of the driver's seat. People were passing them as though they were standing still. Cautious was understandable, especially after the Cheval Mallet incident—the horse didn't even die, apparently—but this was ridiculous. “Hey, Camille, I thought we agreed for you to step on it!” she repeated often.

"I am doing the speed limit. If we go over it, we'll get noticed." She stated.

An orange horizon greeted them by the time they actually reached the Jeanne d'Arc. Twenty minutes their collective asses, it was now 6:10, and Judith was clearly heated. Consti swallowed the lump in her throat. Damn...

“Constantina,” boss lady really didn't waste time on ripping her a new one. “Do you have ANY idea what twenty minutes mean?”

Again, she swallowed. One of the few things she truly hated—other than Katyusha—was getting in trouble with Judith. It always started with the dress-down, but her disapproval lasted so much longer. “Yes, Judith, I know what twenty minutes meant.”

“I suppose you have an excuse?”

How about I don't know how you're going to make a forty minute drive in twenty, including dress time? “No. I don't.”

Even with her Mediterranean heritage, she suddenly felt like it was 130 degrees with enough humidity you couldn't towel dry. Judith at least seemed satisfied with her answer because she immediately wheeled on her for something else. In this case, she was not wearing the regulation uniform.

“You do realize we have a dress code?”

After she parked the car, finally Camille slowly got herself ready. Judith seemed to know that this bookworm took her time, it was just a part of her duty as the magus of the group. Camille then adjusted her cap, so that it was squared more on her head. She then got out of the truck and slung her heavy side bag over her body.

"I apologize, Commissar." Camille said. "I'll make sure to go a bit faster with the truck. I don't trust it that much. A-Anyways, outside of lax uniform wear...What would like to discuss with us?"

Judith paused her tirade for a moment, studying the girls. Camille was attentive, always listening and taking criticism with the astute purpose of bettering herself, other than when it came to her driving. She was like that to a fault, often backing down when she should be getting angry and stepping up to the plate.

Constantina wanted so badly to be like Katyusha, going so far as to hate her. But in reality, she might be strong – and decent with her sword – but it was her words that made her useful. A real crowd pleaser, easily placating the masses in a situation like this.

“Constantina. Lead these girls like you're supposed to. If you can drive faster than Camille, do so. Get here when you're supposed to. Learn to sleep lightly, as you should have been the first one awake.

Pacing across from them, she considered what was actually important. The body, the man hung up by ropes made of human hair. And hair that defied science.

“Anyways, here's the situation. This is the sixth such murder in the last three months, spaced exactly two weeks apart. Positive ID on all of the victims. The first four were Jack the Ripper style murders, all of them prostitutes out of the red light district. The last two, a businessman and this cab driver, while a-typical, mimic murders that happened over a hundred years ago, and a hundred more than that. Pattern also stands that there are four more victims. One an officer of justice, so keep an eye out for that. Do you two have any real questions about this?”

"Is it possible for me to get a piece of the hair?" Camille asked quickly. "I-I mean, before the Agency’s researchers get their hands on it. My tomes might be able to sense something about what we're dealing with. If what you are saying is fact...That there have been historical accounts going back several hundred years...We can pinpoint a common thread. Maybe...Constantina and I can work together on some scouting out clues once I connect the dots?" She knew it was going to be a long shot. The Agency always got its hands on the supernatural before the local cops or civilians could make answers out of it. The simple answer was that it never happened or it was mass hysteria.

For once, Judith lacked the forethought to utilize a Flower's magic. It wasn't that it never happened, but it wasn't often, for sure. Quickly, she scanned the bridge, looking to see if anything had been untouched. She sighed. “I'm sure we'll find something for you to use.” Clearly, Judith was having an off day.

Jack the Ripper... Still alive after a century and a half. Why was the Agency so sure it was him? It could be any number of monstrous people. This wasn't even his modus operandi.

The braid! She'd kept the braid the killer had used as a noose. She'd hid that from the Agency’s Forensic Team to show the girls just what kind of monster they were up against. “We do have the noose that was used.”

1 note · View note

perpetually-jungshook · 7 years ago

Text

Without You: Bloodstone (Part 18)

Genre: AU, bts!werewolf, fantasy, angst

Warnings: language, violence, suggestive content

Word Count: 3.9k

Summary: Werewolves, contrary to popular belief, are usually gentle creatures. Except for a very specific set of circumstances, they would never hurt a human (on purpose). The few unfortunate times when mistakes were made put a permanent dark mark on the beasts and people began labeling them as monsters. What the human population failed to recognize was the fact that they were protecting us from something much more sinister. Luckily, a few survived and the gene was passed down hereditarily until one day finding its way to me… in the form of my best friend.

Loyalty is often as blind as justice should be, as unstable as a lightning storm ought to be, and as misplaced as an opinion in the truth.

Chapter 18:

Jimin says nothing as I return his sweater, my shoulder aching from where he punched me. I don’t complain. I also don’t try to stop him as he retreats to his room, biting back the “thank you” that sits on my tongue because I think I’ve already pestered him enough for one day.

Heart climbing into my throat, I quietly make my way down the hall to Jungkook’s room, every bad scenario swimming through the front of my mind like a movie on fast forward. Had he woken up? Had he gone looking for me? Or worse, had he alerted anyone else? I slowly push the metal door open to find the raven haired boy sprawled out on his bed, face turned toward the wall. A vague sense of fear that he’s faking it permeates through me, but Jungkook’s breathing is rhythmic and he’s never been a good actor.

Keeping my footsteps quiet, I slip off my shoes, scoot him over a bit, and crawl under the blanket to lie beside him. What time is it? I glance at Yoongi’s watch, still fastened around my wrist. Four in the morning. Three hours of sleep? Here I come.

I dream about… not the demon, but the little girl who Halsahm occupies. She’s trapped in a small room that is mysteriously fitting, almost as if it’s her own skin. She is screaming.

“You look a little tired,” Seokjin sounds amused as he pushes some reheated scrambled eggs onto my plate. He made breakfast an hour ago, but I had overslept, meaning everyone but the eldest wolf, Hoseok, and I had gone outside for training. “Late night?”

You have no idea…

I smile as best as I can with my limbs feeling like concrete, “I didn’t sleep well.”

“Oh and that’s why you smell like Hepatica flowers,” Hoseok gives me a knowing smile. My cheeks flush with heat. “Don’t worry, Eun. This isn’t a prison.”

Seokjin bobs his head in agreement, “We just want you to be safe.”

Relief settles over me like a pleasantly warm blanket. Hopefully they think I just went for a walk. A really long walk. But no harm, no foul right? It’s not like I had actually done anything wrong. Jimin and I just went to that field, I had a vision… and he punched me. My skin suddenly feels a bit clammy. Why? He punched me because I was chanting Halsahm’s name.

Something settles unpleasantly in my chest, an ominous kind of feeling.

I had said a demon’s name aloud.

Hoseok’s head tilts curiously, “You okay?”

I nod, poking at the eggs on my plate. He probably knows I’m lying, but at this point it’s too late. Should I tell them? At the very least I should ask.

“What happens when you say a demon’s name out loud? Erm, Namjoon sunbae told me it was bad and I’m just curious.”

Seokjin looks to Hoseok, who shrugs and replies quietly, “Namjoon’s grandfather said something about… saying their names makes them stronger. We’ve never actually tested it.”

“Makes them stronger?”

“More powerful,” Seokjin clarifies. “We don’t know how or why but that’s the assumption that was handed to us by the old pack before they stepped down.”

“Meaning our parents and grandparents,” Hoseok throws in.

“The fact of the matter is, we don’t want to test that kind of theory, yeah?” Seokjin gives me a tight lipped smile.

“What hyung is trying to say is, don’t do it,” Hoseok adds bluntly, but then his expression softens, “We only want to keep everyone safe. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

“Thanks,” I somehow manage to get the word around the lump in my throat. To avoid questions, I start shoveling food into my mouth, hoping the conversation moves on. It thankfully does as Seokjin mentions a restaurant fire in town which was apparently broadcast on the news this morning and Hoseok complains that it’s been clogging up his sinuses all day. I don’t really see how that’s possible, but maybe it’s a werewolf thing.

I decide not to bring up demon names again, hoping that Jimin had been wrong. He said I was muttering “Halsham,” a one letter difference to Halsahm. Could that…? Would that change anything? Had he misheard? I am too frightened to ask.

As uneventful minutes slip into hours and uneventful hours slip into days, I start to relax and my body and mind both return to some sort of equilibrium. The exhaustion from the not-exorcism wears off, the warmth of early summer bathes the abandoned village, and Munhee decides to have me practice my tolerance for magic. The progress is slow, but after a week I’m able to maintain and create the green flame.

It’s small, only about the size of a flame from a standard lighter, but it doesn’t matter. I am performing actual magic. From scratch.

“Kookie look!” I present my palm with the little flame, which is flickering proudly. Well, it’s not proud. I am. But at this point who cares? I’m doing magic.

“That’s nice,” he grunts, one arm hanging off the mattress he’s sprawled out on, the other draped over his nose, shielding his eyes from the dim light of the room.

“You didn’t even look.”

“You already showed me-”

“But this one’s bigger than before,” I’m not sure whether it’s disappointment or irritation that trickles into my chest at my friend’s lack of interest.

Jungkook lifts his arm, opening his eyes just a crack before scrunching his nose, “Looks the same to me.”

Definitely irritation.

I take a deep breath, extinguishing the flame, “Alright. I guess I’ll keep working on it.”

He must hear the change in my tone because the raven haired boy slowly pushes himself into a sitting position, “Eun, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m just a little tired.”

“Okay.”

“I’m serious,” Jungkook scoots closer, letting his legs fall off the edge of the mattress until we’re sitting shoulder to shoulder. “Show me again.”

I fight a frown in favor of concentrating on my palm. I can feel the energy circling there, getting warmer, but never hot. Munhee told me to focus on this energy, notice the way that it moves like a living creature. She said I need to feel it, then condense it into as small a point as possible. And lastly, in my head, create a metaphorical spark.

As abruptly as a branch snapping, with the same kind of cracking sensation, the little green flame blossoms in my hand. It’s weightless and now familiar. I’ve noticed that the color of mine is a bit deeper than Munhee’s.

“It’s pretty,” Jungkook watches the faint flicker, a small, somewhat forced smile turning up the corners of his lips. I know he’s been out all day exercising and is probably exhausted. I don’t think I can blame him for his lack of enthusiasm at something so small. He cocks his head, “Can I touch it?”

“Sure,” I say quietly, also trying for a smile. I rest my hand in his lap and Jungkook reaches out eagerly, only hesitating just before his fingers touch the flame.

“Is it hot?”

“No. It doesn’t really feel like anything at all.”

Jungkook winces as he quickly passes his finger through the small, flickering bud of green, but then he visibly relaxes and does it again.

“Weird. I thought it would burn.”

“I did too.”

His hand drops. I withdraw mine. The pause is awkward and long, something that usually doesn’t happen between Jungkook and me. He lets out a quiet sigh attention going from the green flame sitting in my palm to my eyes.

“Noona… suggested something to me today.”

Noona? Since when had he started calling Munhee that?

“What did she say?”

Jungkook leans forward, perching himself on the edge of the mattress, gaze dropping to the floor, “She said that… we should… think about moving into different rooms.”

“What? Why?”

“Something about focusing on our ‘areas of study,’ but I think it’s really because she wants us separated. I’m tell you, Eun. There’s something not right about this place.”

I never told Jungkook about Halsahm. I never told him about my adventure to the Hepatica field with Jimin. For some reason, my instincts told me to keep it to myself. Maybe I should say something. After all, my best friend is my closest ally. Keeping Jungkook in the loop would only be beneficial. Right? He’ll probably be angry with me for waiting this long, but as they say, better late than never.

Just as I open my mouth, a knock on the door interrupts the conversation. I decide that “late” will have to be another, later time.

“Come in,” I extinguish the flame on my palm, closing my fist around it and letting the invisible energy spill out of my hand.

Of course it’s Munhee that peeks inside, “Just checking in with a quick question.”

My relationship with her has become… strange. Guilt plagues me every time we make eye contact and I have a constant, subtle fear that she’ll find out what I had done. I don’t think she would be mad, maybe disappointed or hurt. Would she stop my magic training? Would she make me leave? Or would she separate me from Jungkook, do something to him? The thought haunts me. She wouldn’t. Munhee has only been honest and open with me, mostly kind, though sometimes blunt and harsh in her words. But she’s never harmed me. She doesn’t seem like the type who would do something like that. At least, not with the pack protecting Jungkook.

Wait, would the pack protect him? Yes, he’s one of them, but does the imprint override the bond between wolves?

My mind is almost too crowded to hear Munhee’s next words, “Would either of you like to visit your parents tomorrow?”

I exchange a glance with Jungkook before asking, “Visit them?”

We’d been given access to a phone and I’ve spoken with them on several occasions, continuing to be very vague about our current situation, our “academic field trip,” but assuring them that I’m doing well. It’s kind of odd. I don’t feel homesick. Do I miss my parents? Sure. Almost anyone would. But I’m not upset about being away from them. I’m not even worried about demons “coming to get them.” The pack has it handled.

Still, it would be nice to go and physically see them.

Munhee nods, “Yeah, Namjoon’s grandfather has all the documents and everything set up. Passports, letters of recommendation, even a transcript for an abroad class or two.”

“He can do that?” Jungkook tilts his head with curiosity.

She laughs lightly, “Well, your parents already know what’s going on. All we need to do is convince Eun’s and it’s easy to forge these things when you know what they’re supposed to look like.”

I want to ask, “Why not tell them the truth?” But I understand. Werewolves? Demons? That could lead to mass hysteria. Even “witch hunts” to root out evil spirits. Or worse. When Jungkook first transformed, yes, he had been violent toward Munhee, but he had been feral. He had been protecting me, running on instinct. Could anyone blame him more than a cat protecting its kittens? A bear its cubs? The only difference is their lycanthropic nature.

I had been so afraid of what he would do to me, but… they’re just people. They might not be human, but they are sentient, logical creatures even in their wolf forms. Could the general public see that? Could my parents? Might they look past the long teeth and claws, the massive bodies, the piercing amber eyes? Or would they be just as scared as I had been? Would they try to exterminate them like cultures in the past?

“As long as I know what our story is, I’d like to go visit them,” I decide with a small smile. Jungkook nods his agreement, looking uneasy.

Munhee returns my smile, “Alright. I’ll arrange a ride and get your stories straight. Be ready to go after breakfast.”

With that, she walks back into the hallway and shuts the door behind her, leaving Jungkook and me alone again. I turn to my friend, “You okay?”

The raven haired boy takes a deep breath, replying after a long pause, “Yes and no. I’m happy I’ll get to see my parents… but what if I hurt someone?”

“Jungkook, you’ve gotten your transformations relatively under control. All you have to do is stay calm, right? Calm and happy.”

More conflict crosses his expression, “But what about you? What if something happens to-?”

“I’ll be next to you the whole time. Our parents know we’re friends. They’ll probably want to see both of us. My mom loves you,” I reassure him. “It’ll be fine.”

And everything is fine. My parents don’t suspect a thing and praise us for our fabricated studiousness. Jungkook’s parents praise us for our actual progress, his father seeming very empathetic towards me in particular.

It’s fairly refreshing to get out of the bunker and away from the forest. I guess I had been so invested in training, practice, and mysteries that my task-oriented mindset didn’t give me time to think about home all that much. My heart hurts as we leave in a nondescript black van, waving goodbye out of the tinted windows that we know our parents can’t see through anyway.

The trip is long, monotonous and the man driving says nothing, just sits there, doing his job and looking like a stereotypical badass government agent, sunglasses and all. Jungkook and I sit quietly in the back seat, our fingers laced in the space between us. It’s weird, how only a month and a half has passed, but so much has changed- and yet, some things remain the same.

Taehyung is the one who meets us at the edge of the forest instead of Namjoon, who made sure we got into the car safely this morning.

“Hey there, kids!” Taehyung waves enthusiastically, a big smile lighting his expression. He slings an arm around both of us, giving a half salute to the driver, jostling Jungkook, “Thanks for dropping them off safe, Daesuk!”

The bronze haired boy pauses, half frowning, half pouting, whispering, “Or… was it Gisu? They all look the same. But don’t tell them I said that.”

The driver continues to stare blankly ahead. Behind his sunglasses, I can’t even tell if he’s looking at us anymore. Taehyung is not off put by this. He waves animatedly again, “Tell hyung’s grandpa Taetae said hi!”

No reaction. It’s almost comical.

Still beaming, Taehyung leads us off of the road and into the forest. He warbles about little things like how it’s summer now so different flowers will be blooming and everyone will be able to stay up later, etcetera. Jungkook seems to listen intently. Meanwhile, my heart hurts. Seeing my parents reminded me what not feeling in mortal danger all the time felt like… what being able to unconditionally trust everyone around me felt like.

The sound of my name permeates through the fog of thoughts.

“Eun-ah~ do I have to kiss you to get your attention?”

But the growl is the thing that pulls me fully back to the present.

Taehyung laughs, “Relax, Kook. I wouldn’t actually kiss her. Maybe. Unless she wanted me to.”

Jungkook growls again. I laugh lightly, shaking my head to clear it, “Yeah no worries there. I wouldn’t kiss him if he paid me.”

The older of the two gasps, “Excuses me? Between my rugged good looks and witty charm, I’m irresistible.”

I roll my eyes affectionately, “Anyway…”

“Right, I was gonna ask you a question,” Taehyung trots ahead a few steps, easily hopping up on top of a fallen tree and extending his hand to help Jungkook and I over it. My raven haired friend drops down immediately, but Taehyung continues just as I reach the top, making me pause. “So are you and Jungkook a thing?”

I almost choke on air. Jungkook isn’t much better off.

“Wh-what?”

The bronze haired boy gives a genuine laugh, “I mean, you guys share a room, he’s imprinted on you, you’re best friends, it’s like a cheesy romance novel.”

I glance down at Jungkook, trying to read his expression as neither of us dare to answer. I’ve always thought he was handsome, smart, determined. Really, I could find no faults in my friend except his excessive cautiousness, which eventually turned out to be both valid and helpful, and the fact that he chews with his mouth open.

Taehyung looks amused more than anything else, so I stall for time, “Why does it matter?”

“Just wondering if you’d thought about intimate bonding yet.”

“Intimate bonding?” I ask, something about the phrasing making my heart flutter nervously.

“Yeah,” Taehyung nods, wiggling his eyebrows, “I mean no rush because that’s a big decision-”

“Like, the werewolf equivalent of getting married?” I take a shot in the dark, cringing.

He shrugs, “Something like that. But more permanent.”

My cheeks are burning.

“Werewolves are mated for life,” Taehyung hops off of the fallen tree, leaving me on top by myself. “So if that’s the path you wanna take, gotta choose wisely yknow?”

“She’s turning twenty in a few weeks,” Jungkook’s upper lip pulls back a bit. “Do we have to start talking about forever now?”

“You’re turning twenty too,” Taehyung doesn’t seem bothered by the slight aggression at all, tone light and curious. I lower myself down to the ground carefully. “All I’m asking is if you’ve thought about it.”

“No, she hasn’t-”

“Relax,” I place a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, making the small amount of bright amber that had started to crawl into his eyes dissipate. “He’s not suggesting anything. Just… making us aware.”

“Right,” the bronze haired boy gives us a boxy grin. “Aware. Anyway, let’s go. I wanna be back before dark.”

The rest of the walk back to the bunker is long, hot, and makes me a little bit sweaty and uncomfortable. Mostly sweaty. Jungkook still can’t remain in control for long after transforming, maybe ten minutes tops, so to avoid any unintentional mauling or other danger, Taehyung smartly suggests they stay in human form for a majority of the time. But this means our travel time doubles and I’m miserable for reasons that seem… slightly irrational in the grand scheme of things.

The Hepaticas are going out of season. The flowers are wilting. I can see the limp petals falling around the plants as we walk past them. Out side of the clearing, they don’t grow as densely, but they do pepper the forest floor noticeably. We’ve been here so long, living this life that I hadn’t even known was an option. I think the Hepaticas just remind me of that and a time when life was much less strange. Much less guilt ridden. I glance at Jungkook.

I use the flowers as an excuse to not think about what Taehyung said. It’s not important. Not right now. As the abandoned town comes into view, I quicken my pace to walk next to Jungkook, lacing our fingers habitually.

But then both boys stop at the smeared line that marks the edge of the forest, attention swiveling to our left. Taehyung starts bouncing excitedly, “You two know the way back from here, right?”

Jungkook looks at me, expression conflicted. I’m about to ask why, but the sound of heavy pants and claws against gravel proceeds the appearance of four massive wolves colored auburn, soft grapefruit, ochre, and blue-grey by just a handful of seconds. Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, and Namjoon. They’re probably going for an evening run.

“Give me your shirt, go ahead,” I nod my encouragement. “I know the way back.”

Taehyung apparently doesn’t need any more convincing. He’s stripped down to his shorts as soon as I finish my second sentence. Jungkook hesitates though, giving my hand a squeeze before he pulls off his shirt and kicks off his socks and shoes. The instinct to follow the pack must be strong because as soon as he’s liberated of his clothes, save the elastic shorts, the telltale cracking reaches my ears and the raven colored wolf is bounding away.

I collect Taehyung’s belongings and start along the lantern marked path to the little shack that hides the entrance to the bunker. Despite holding two almost complete outfits, my hands feel… empty.

It’s quiet when I open the mistletoe doors. Setting the boys’ shoes next to the entrance, I decide to go take a shower. Maybe I’ll indulge myself after, put on a movie and idly practice magic while I watch it. A small smile lifts the corners of my lips.

My parents are okay, everyone around me has proved themselves trustworthy, Jungkook is out having fun, we’re safe here, and life is good.

As usual, time stands still in the bunker. I know it’s night outside. The stars are out and the crickets are chirping, but I can neither see them nor hear them. The soft fluorescent lights don’t change. It remains quiet. I finish the movie and extinguish the flame in my hand. They’re still out? It’s not particularly strange or worrying. I guess I’m just bored. With nothing to actively worry about, my mind will start to wander and that’s when homesickness will set in.

I put on another movie.

About halfway through, the sounds of voices and laughter cause me to press pause. The six rowdy boys file in through the mistletoe doors that I had left open a crack. Seokjin playfully pushes around Hoseok, who is cackling hysterically while Yoongi watches on with… is he smiling? Namjoon looks like he’s lecturing Taehyung, who is obviously not paying attention. Of course Jimin isn’t with them. Predictable. But Jungkook’s gaze immediately lands on me, his expression brightening.

He rushes forward, but I stop him with a hand up, hovering just in front of his chest. I wrinkle my nose, “Sweaty.”

“You or me?” Jungkook giggles, a bright flush to his cheeks and a shine on his bare chest and forehead.

“Definitely you,” my face warms and I shoo him away to take a shower.

Seokjin pops his head in to say hello, but other than that, I’m left alone as everyone goes to their rooms, probably to clean up. I don’t blame them. I turn the movie back on and am content watching it, idly playing with the green flame in my palm- until a shadow slowly slides into view. I look up and am surprised to find Jimin.

He looks bored as usual, and his voice is low with what might be irritation, “Taehyung told me to give this to you.”

The boy with the coffee colored hair presents a single Hepatica flower. My eyes widen in a mix of surprise and apprehension. It’s bright purple and hasn’t even started to wilt, but…

“Taehyung got this for me?”

Jimin scoffs, “I told him to shove it up his ass, but he insisted.”

Does this have something to do with that more than awkward discussion earlier? Was he suggesting something more than a discussion about my friendship with Jungkook? Something about himself?

I take the flower with a hint of hesitation, “Tell him I said thank you.”

Jimin gives a nod that looks suspiciously like an eye roll before taking his leave.

A small pinch forms in my throat, but I decide that I won’t say anything about this unless Taehyung brings it up.

✩✩✩♔✩✩✩

Send me your theories/questions here. Or just come say hi ;) ~🐰 xx Please include the End of Post Question number upon submission, thank you!

Support me/Donate and get some super rad 😎 rewards

Much love ~🐰 xx

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #werewolf bts #without you: bloodstone #bloodstone #jimin #jimin fanfic #jimin angst #werewolf jimin #taehyung #taehyung fanfic #taehyung angst #werewolf taehyung #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #werewolf jungkook

120 notes · View notes