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chimcess · 2 months ago

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→ Chapter Ten: The Beyond Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Werewolf!Jimin, Witch!Reader, Shifter!Reader, Shifter!Jimin, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha!Jimin Genre: Supernatural!AU, Werewolf!AU, Angst, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Smut, Word Count: 9.3k+ Synopsis: Within the four realms of Lustra lay the Bangtan forest home to the Foxglove pack of the south and known as the “land of magic.” It is also home to the Bridd, a powerful witch from a cursed bloodline who is one of the sacred guardians of the forest. Y/N is the newest Bridd, a young girl who was given her position too early. Now a woman, Y/N is revered amongst the wolves as the most powerful witch they have ever known, but hiding under the surface is a woman who has to battle between her duty and her heart. Warnings: ANGST, strong language, PTSD, flashbacks, self-hate, self-depreciation, death, fighting, blood, cursing, new character alert, we have so many characters already i'm so sorry, mauling of an elf, mind reader witch, Clarcton is pretty lame, drinking, drunkenness, nightmares, bonding, missing child (it's not that bad), fear, paranoia, insecurities, regret, guilt, shame, let me know if i've missed anything A/N: We're officially 1/3 of the way through our "little" story. Sorry it's been so long between updates. I've been working on so many things as the same time that TTW got placed on the backburner for a bit. Thanks for reading!

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I never expected Clarcton to be so plain. As a girl, I used to dream about escaping the swamp, imagining a world beyond my responsibilities—a world full of beauty and freedom. But standing in the little village’s town square, those daydreams evaporated like morning mist.

Stover, the tiniest town in Clarcton, was quaint and small, with cobblestone streets and wooden cottages that seemed to lean on each other for support. The townspeople moved with the kind of slow, deliberate pace that comes from a life untroubled by haste. Their eyes lingered on me, and I could feel their curiosity as they assessed the stranger in their midst. I stood out just by being different, my scars a map of battles they couldn’t fathom.

Through a day of shopping, I learned that Stover rarely saw travelers. The elves invading the northern tip had made the locals wary, and I could hear their whispers about my scars. Ignoring them wasn’t easy, but I’d be gone tomorrow. The market was a small square, stalls offering modest wares—fresh produce, simple cloth, handcrafted trinkets. Each vendor seemed to eye me with a mix of suspicion and pity.

Northorn still held strong, its capital unfallen. King Edward had called for aid from Whopping, a fishing town on the east coast. The wolves of Viridi Gramine had decided not to help the humans, heading instead to Bangtan to protect their princess. Hearing the townsfolk speak ill of Hyuna made my stomach churn. These people were ignorant, jumping to conclusions like humans always did since the Sarkans first landed in Lustra.

Starving, I dropped off my supplies and set out for food. Hannah, a kind woman who ran the inn, had pointed me to a tavern that promised a decent meal. However, I was low on money and too frightened to barter. Drawing attention could be dangerous, especially after hearing rumors of elves in town. I’d hidden in shops, body tense, the sight of white hair sending chills down my spine.

Elves all looked the same—pale, white-haired, with amethyst eyes. This party had no women, and when I asked the tailor, he explained that their kind had a queendom where men were lesser beings. These elves were young and inexperienced, sent to weaken before the real conquerors arrived. The tailor believed Lustra would fall when the second wave came.

The tavern buzzed with an overwhelming clamor. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of ale and sweat, and it was clear that I was the only human present. The elves, their pale faces flushed with drink, were loud and rowdy, their laughter grating on my ears. Ale sloshed over the edges of their mugs, splattering the wooden floor. Keeping my head down, I approached the bar and ordered soup and ale, deciding it was safer to stay than to risk attracting attention by leaving too soon.

Finding a corner table, I settled in, hoping to blend into the shadows. The warmth of the tavern was a stark contrast to the chill outside, but it did little to soothe my nerves. As I waited for my meal, snippets of conversation drifted to me. The elves boasted of their exploits, their voices dripping with arrogance. They spoke of battles and conquests, their laughter tinged with cruelty. Each word stoked the fire of my hatred, but I kept my face impassive, my gaze fixed on the table in front of me.

When the tavern maid brought my soup and ale, I thanked her quietly, avoiding eye contact. The soup was hearty, its warmth spreading through my body with each spoonful. The ale, though bitter, helped to steady my nerves. I ate slowly, trying to make the meal last as long as possible.

As I ate, a group of elves at a nearby table grew louder, their taunts more pointed. They spoke about the humans they had encountered, their words laced with contempt. One of them, a particularly burly elf with a scar running down his cheek, caught my eye and sneered. “Look at that one,” he said loudly, gesturing towards me. “Thinks she can hide among us.”

The others laughed, and I forced myself to remain calm, taking another sip of my ale. The burly elf stood, his steps unsteady, and made his way over to my table. “What’s your name, human?” he demanded, leaning in close, the stench of alcohol on his breath.

I looked up, meeting his gaze with as much defiance as I could muster. “None of your business,” I replied evenly.

His sneer widened, and he reached out, grabbing my arm. “Feisty one, aren’t you? I like that.” He pulled me to my feet, and I could feel the eyes of the entire tavern on us. The room had fallen silent, the tension palpable.

The elf’s grip tightened, and I winced, but refused to show fear. “Let go of me,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Or what?” he taunted, pulling me closer. “You’ll make me?”

Before I could react, a flash of movement caught my eye. Another elf, smaller and quicker, appeared beside the burly one. “Enough, Dalion,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Leave her be.”

Dalion hesitated, his grip loosening slightly. “Why? She’s just a human.”

“Because I said so,” the other elf replied, his tone brooking no argument. “We don’t need any more trouble.”

With a grunt, Dalion released me, shoving me back into my chair. “Fine,” he muttered, glaring at me one last time before returning to his table. The smaller elf gave me a brief nod before following.

I took a shaky breath, my heart pounding. The tavern slowly returned to its previous state, the noise level rising once more. I finished my meal quickly, eager to leave and find some semblance of safety. As I paid for my food, I noticed the smaller elf watching me, his expression unreadable. I decided to go to the bar and finish my night there.

At the bar, a hooded figure sipped clear liquor, the sharp smell cutting through the tavern's haze. The bartender, his eyes darting between me and the elves, asked where I was from.

"Leeside," I lied, knowing he saw through it but didn’t call me out. He knew my destination and that Leeside was big enough to hide in. "Just passing through."

He nodded, wiping the bar. The elves were bothering a drunk old man for money, out of coins and still thirsty.

"Heard about Azamar?" the bartender asked.

I nodded, taking a bite. "Hot. Too bad, I’ve heard it’s nice this time of year."

The hooded figure shifted, drawing my instinctive gaze. Her teeth were too large, canines sharp, and one incisor framed in gold—a mark of an assassin from Whopping, according to Hoseok.

"The plains are worse," she said, her voice rough but feminine. "Hard to see anything if you go that far south."

"The northern tip isn’t too bad," I replied without thinking. "I came in through that way."

"Interesting."

She knew I was lying. Keeping my fear in check, I ate. The bartender offered another bowl on the house, which I accepted, knowing hot meals would be scarce. The elves grew louder, and I wanted to leave. Tomorrow, I’d memorize the maps Sam packed.

"Hey! You!"

I closed my eyes, feeling their gaze. They spoke a bastardized Lustrian, discussing my potential in bed and survival odds. I resisted the urge to respond, knowing a fight would expose me. Humans feared magic, as Aldara always said.

"Girl," another elf slurred, "give me some money. I need another drink."

The bartender, catching on, turned his back. I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. He knew I understood them. I was obviously not an elf, so the options were shifter or witch—either one could spell trouble if the bartender exposed me out of ignorance.

"I’m talking to you, bicce."

My eye twitched. The bartender noticed, realization dawning. He turned away, leaving me to fend for myself.

Fortunately, he didn't look disgusted by me. His face remained remarkably neutral as he returned with a refill. He carefully placed a napkin on the bar before setting down the glass. I glanced at him, then at the woman out of the corner of my eye. She was tense, her head inclined towards me, her eyes hidden but clearly watching me as closely as the elves were. They were louder now, frustrated by my lack of response. I picked up my glass and read the smudged writing on the napkin.

"I'm Vern."

I took a sip, nodding, keeping my face impassive. Quietly, I ordered another drink, placing a copper coin on the bar, and pointed at the group with my thumb. I didn’t care what they wanted, but I hoped Vern wouldn’t provoke them. With great care, I picked up the napkin.

Crumpling it in my hand, I muttered under my breath, wiping it against my lips before placing it back on the bar. I went back to eating. Vern brought the elf his drink, and their angry taunts stopped. The one who called me a bitch thanked me in a condescending tone. I wanted to tear him apart, but instead, I drank my ale and ate my vegetable soup.

Vern came back, picking up my napkin and walking over to the trash can behind the bar. The traveler next to me was still staring, and I knew she knew what had happened. They both had their secrets. She stayed hidden beneath her cloak, while Vern saw too much. Both of them were searching for something, but I couldn’t tell you what. I did know, however, that lying would only make me look worse. I had given him my first name and hoped that would satisfy his curiosity.

Another napkin appeared in front of me. Vern was wiping down glasses, back turned, and I was sure no one except the three of us understood what was going on. I glanced down.

"Moland. Etta Ketchens’ son."

So, there was another witch around. Moland was the original land of magic. All witches alive today descended from those who first discovered it in the swamps. Bangtan stole the title after witches began making deals with the ielfen. Their world was linked to the spirit realm, and the monsters that lived there were difficult to manage, so they sent them to the forests. The witches were strong enough to keep them away, but the creatures found refuge in Bangtan.

Anyone from Moland had magic, and I had heard of Etta from Thelma. She was from the northeast. I had never met her, but she was known for playing music and throwing great parties. Trusting Vern became easier. We were in the same boat, and witches liked to stick together. At the very least, I knew I had backup if it came down to a fight.

"Bangtan. Thelma Richard’s niece."

He nodded, his eyes wandering to the woman at the end of the bar. She hadn’t taken her eyes off us since the written exchange began. Her eyes seemed to glow within the darkness that surrounded her face, boring into me, waiting for something. Feeling exposed, I stood. It was time to leave. I had done what I came here to do, and the elves were starting to badger people for money again.

Vern shook his head and glanced down at my seat, giving me pause. Gaze turning to the woman, she shrugged and shook her head in agreement. I had no reason to trust either of them, but I had a feeling in my gut. Even if we wouldn’t normally help each other, right now, we had a common enemy. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Aldara would say I should listen before reacting. So, when the woman offered to buy me another drink, I sat back down.

“They’re planning on following you home,” Vern murmured, placing a glass in front of me.

“How do you know that?”

“I’m gifted. You could say I specialize in mind magic.”

Stiffening, I eyed him with new wariness. That’s how he knew I was lying; he could hear my thoughts. Vern nodded, answering my unasked question.

“I’m not concentrating on you,” he clarified. “I’m trying to watch them. I’m just picking up bits and pieces of everyone else. She’s—” He looked at the woman, “—not human either. She’s trying to decide if she should accompany you. You’re both going east.”

The elves were back to insulting me for another drink. I gritted my teeth, my anger and frustration bubbling over. I’d always been a hothead, but my emotions felt so volatile now. I hated them. I hated everything they stood for. Cordelia’s dead body flashed in my mind, and Vern couldn’t hide the horror on his face.

“Bicce!”

Beside me, the woman turned her attention to the elves.

“Don’t speak to her like that,” she growled.

Their group stopped their taunts, a thick, tense silence falling over the bar. Tensing, I prepared to defend her. She didn’t need to take up for me, but my hatred made the decision easy. I wanted to kill them all.

The elf scoffed in disbelief. Vern’s eyes widened in horror, and he reached out towards the hooded woman. I knew what was coming, and instead of waiting, I took action.

I’d always been a loose cannon, but these last few days had made me feel more unhinged than ever. Anger, sorrow, and hatred coiled tightly in my stomach, driving me insane. The nightmares. The heartache. Yoongi’s blank stare. Cordelia’s lifeless body in the flames. Jimin’s anguish. Sol’s betrayal. All of it consumed me, and for once, I didn’t try to stomp the flames out.

“Swígan!” I shouted, turning to face the elves. I had reached my limit. Knowing I had at least one other witch on my side, I felt emboldened. “Mieltan.”

The iron ring on my finger melted, searing my skin, but I hardly registered the burn. I shot the melted iron like a rocket, stabbing the elf who disrespected me through the chest. Dalion couldn’t scream. When I retracted the metal, there was a hole so large I could see through his body. The other three stared, mouths agape, before turning on me. The dead one fell to the floor with a thud.

The remaining elves rushed at me, their movements fluid and unnervingly synchronized. I didn’t hesitate. The iron ring, now a molten band around my finger, reshaped itself into a thin, sharp blade. I slashed at the closest elf, the blade slicing clean through his raised arm. Blue blood sprayed, and his scream was a piercing wail.

I spun, my instincts sharpened by adrenaline, and kicked another elf, the one who had defended me earlier, square in the chest, sending him crashing into a table. Wood splintered under his weight, and the patrons near him scrambled to get away. The third elf tried to grab me from behind, but I twisted, using the momentum to elbow him hard in the face. His nose crunched, blood spurting as he staggered back, clutching his face.

The elf with the severed arm was still screaming, trying to cast a spell with his remaining hand. I didn’t give him the chance. I lunged, driving the blade into his throat. His eyes widened, a gurgle escaping as he collapsed.

The elf I had kicked was back on his feet, rage contorting his features. He muttered an incantation, and I felt a wave of energy pulse towards me. Instinctively, I threw up a shield, the air crackling with the force of our opposing magics. My shield held, but I could feel the strain. I couldn’t let him overpower me. With a snarl, I pushed back, my magic flaring, and the shield exploded outward, knocking him off his feet.

Vern had been right about the woman. She was a shifter, and now her cloak had fallen away, revealing her true form. She was massive, her muscles rippling under her skin and a pair of black ears poked through her long, black hair. She let out a roar, leaping into the fray with a ferocity that matched my own. She tackled the elf who had been behind me, her nails elongating into claws that raked across his chest. He shrieked, trying to fend her off, but she was relentless, tearing into him with a savage precision.

The elf I had knocked down was getting back up, and I moved to intercept him. He cast another spell, a bolt of energy shooting towards me. I dodged, the bolt sizzling past my ear and scorching the wall behind me. I retaliated with a burst of fire, the flames engulfing him. He screamed, thrashing as the fire consumed him, and then he was silent, his charred body crumpling to the floor.

The last elf was still alive, barely. He was pinned under the woman, her claws at his throat. He looked up at me, eyes wide with fear. I walked over, the molten blade in my hand dripping with blue blood. I knelt down, meeting his gaze.

“You should have left me alone,” I said softly, before driving the blade into his heart.

The bar was silent now, the only sounds the crackling of the flames and the labored breathing of the survivors. The humans who were coherent enough to watch the altercation fled the bar screaming while the others were too drunk to care. I still had energy to burn, shaking with the force of my emotions. Too quickly. I wanted more time with them. I wanted to kill them again and again. I wanted to earn their hatred. I wanted—

“What’s your name?”

I looked at the hooded woman. Her face was covered in blood, and she smiled crookedly. She had deep, pitted dimples, and pieces of jewelry shone inside them.

"Y/N," I replied, keeping my voice steady.

"Lily," she said, giving me a small bow before standing up. Her muscles bulged and twitched with each movement, almost as tall as Jimin. Her hands were adorned with intricate tattoos, and her nails were a vivid ruby red. "Would you mind some company during your travels?"

"Do you know your way through Ozryn?" I asked, eyeing her warily.

She nodded. "I'm from Idris. I'm meeting some friends in the mountains."

Despite my earlier reluctance, this woman might be my only option for crossing the mountains safely. Assassin or not, she was offering her services, and my violent display earlier should deter any funny business. She might beat me in a physical fight, but I had magic on my side, fueled by enough emotional turmoil to last a lifetime. The fact that we were both shifters aided in my trust. We were both wanted citizens if the elves had anything to say about it, and her exposing herself made it hard to justify turning her away.

“You’re obviously a shifter,” I said, placing my remaining coins on the bar. Vern deserved the tip. He'd been an excellent server. "What are you?"

"Maned Wolf," she answered, already walking toward the bar exit. That meant she was half-wolf, half-fox. It would not surprise me if she was the last of her kind. "We should leave. Those humans have alerted the local police about your little... situation."

I looked at Vern, who was quick to agree with Lily’s plan. He would cover for us. Thanking him, I followed the huge woman out of the bar. She hadn't really answered my question, but given the circumstances, I let it slide. I had just murdered four people in a bar. I should have felt more shame, but I couldn't muster any. They killed Cordelia. They deserved it.

“We can collect your belongings from the inn and leave. Okay?”

I agreed. We moved quickly. No one was at the front desk when I entered, making sneaking upstairs a cakewalk. I threw my bag over my shoulder and grabbed the few personal items I had lying around. A deep sadness settled into my chest as I thought back to the fight. I hated flashbacks, but I was starting to realize there was something I disliked even more: myself.

I should have just left and minded my own business. That’s what Jimin would have done. A fight would be a last resort. Instead, I acted a fool for someone I didn’t even know, a woman whose face I couldn’t pick out in a lineup, who could easily have turned her back on me the moment I killed the first man. I didn’t stop to consider that someone else might have abandoned me back there. I was so used to being surrounded by people who loved me that hindsight was 20/20. This time, I had simply gotten lucky. If it had been anyone other than an elf I killed, they would have been disgusted by me. Hell, I felt disgusted by my actions.

Cordelia wouldn’t have been able to look me in the eye after a stunt like that.

Shaking myself out of my daze, I rushed back downstairs. Hannah was at the desk now, and three men wearing navy blue uniforms were crowding her. Quickly, I stopped and kept myself hidden in the shadows, body pressed against the wall as I listened in. They hadn’t heard my footsteps. Human ears were very weak.

“I told you I don’t have any witches staying here,” the human girl barked, clearly fed up with their interrogation. “The old man must have been confused. Vernon even said he was being ridiculous. Those elves were nowhere near the tavern.”

“Well, we can’t find them anywhere else, and it wasn’t just John. Betsy said she saw it happen as well.”

“Betsy?” Hannah drawled, placing her hands on her hips. “So you have a drunk and a schizophrenic's testimony? Have to say, Charles, I expected more from you.”

“Now Ms. Winslow—” one of the men attempted to speak, but Hannah flashed him a dark look. He quieted quickly.

“No,” she spoke in a bored, cold tone that reminded me of Yoongi. They even had the same unimpressed, irritated look. “The three of you came barging in here in the middle of the night, ranting and raving about a witch on the loose who, by the way, according to my records, does not exist. I don’t know where any of you got off waking me and my father at a time like this, but he’s far too sick to be dealing with this mess. So, either tell me a name I can work with or get the hell out. Your choice.”

I was impressed with the girl. She had to have known who they were searching for. I had suddenly popped up, and now you have four elves dead in a bar? Too coincidental. Still, she was covering for me, and I was grateful. It was a shame I was out of money.

“Sorry for your troubles, Hannah,” the man in the middle said, tipping his hat. “Hope Maurice feels better soon. We’ll go and ask Martha and Dawn about it. You could be right about the two kooks.”

I didn’t like the way they talked about John or Betsy. They might have been a bit odd, but they were not liars. I hoped their words wouldn’t get them into any trouble, at least not on my behalf. I’d much rather get arrested and escape than let anyone else get locked up. The policemen left, the wooden door slamming behind them.

“You can come out now.”

Walking the rest of the way down, I hoped my face conveyed how sorry I felt. I didn’t want anyone else inconvenienced because of me. Hannah, however, looked very happy. With a big smile, she greeted me. Lily crawled out from under the desk, hood still securely on, and patted the other girl’s head.

"Congratulations on winning your fight," the human drawled, dark hair tousled from just waking up.

"It's not something worth celebrating," I replied, handing my sack over to Lily when she held out her hand for it. "Thank you," I told the massive woman.

"You need a coat," the traveler demanded, her voice brooking no argument. "It's cold."

Opening my bag, she started digging around before finally landing on the cloak I bought this morning. It was heavy, lined in white fur, and beautifully handcrafted. The most expensive thing I bought next to the boots I was wearing. The outside of it had a beautiful ornate flower pattern spun in a delicate silver color, almost perfectly matching the shade of Jimin’s hair.

"This is nice," Lily commented absentmindedly, handing over the cloak. "Good purchase."

I tied it around my shoulders and charmed it like the rest of my clothes. Taking things on and off would take too much time in an emergency. Lily slung my bag over her shoulder like it weighed nothing, and I was glad to be rid of it. Flying would be easier without the annoyance of straps.

Then it hit me. I couldn't fly as quickly as I normally did. If I had a wolf hybrid traveling with me, I would need to travel in the only way she could. On foot. It was almost enough to make me second-guess bringing her along. Alas, I needed the extra hands, and a guide who knew the area was too good of a resource to flush down the drain. Traveling would take longer, but I would have a better chance at living through this.

"The best elves are the dead ones," Hannah yawned. "You should get going. They’re going to be looking for you all night. Vern cleaned up the mess already, so don’t worry about it. He sends his love."

I nodded. "Tell him if he wants to go back to Moland anytime soon, to stay east and travel down the Syrena River. Most of the witches are in Foxglove now. You both could find some protection there."

She smiled at me. "When my father is well enough for the journey, I’m positive that fool will be taking the two of us with him."

There was no mistaking the affection in her voice.

"You two…" I trailed off. "He loves you."

Thinking back to the moment she was brought up, I had not noticed the same tenderness in Vern’s voice. However, the fact that he had spoken to her about me in such great detail pointed to some sort of relationship. It being a romantic one made me unreasonably happy. They were both friends of mine, even if they did not see me in the same light. I was happy they were together. Witches and humans were not a typical pairing, but I could say the same about my own situation.

"Almost as much as I love him," she winked.

"We need to go," Lily gruffed, grabbing my arm. "I can hear them making their way back towards the inn," she frowned at Hannah. "They’re going to bother you for a little while. Sorry about the trouble."

"Like I said," she huffed, "You did everyone a favor. I don’t want to hear another word about it."

"Thank you," I told her. "For everything. Vern too."

"Go," she replied, shooing us away with her hands. "Go around the back. There’s a small nature reserve that stretches on for a few miles. Keep north before heading east. That should take you to Azamar Pass, but stay close to the volcano. They have encampments everywhere."

Azamar Pass was a small stretch of land connecting Lustra to the island where the Ula’re volcano rested. A large bridge connected it to Northorn and another to the land before the Ozryn mountains. It was likely the safest place for us to travel through despite the treacherous terrain. According to my maps, it was filled with hills and jagged cliffs that could kill you easily. Lily seemed confident enough, so I decided to follow her. She knew this place better than I ever did.

"I know the area well," Lily assured the girl. "We will be safe."

I had to trust she was telling the truth.

We slipped out the back, the night air biting through the fur-lined cloak. The reserve Hannah mentioned was darker than I expected, the thick canopy of trees blotting out the moonlight. We moved quickly, our breath fogging in the cold air. Lily led the way, her steps confident despite the uneven ground. I followed closely, every crunch of leaves underfoot setting my nerves on edge.

The silence between us stretched, only the sounds of our hurried steps and the occasional rustle of wildlife breaking it. My mind raced, replaying the events of the night. I had always been a hothead, but tonight felt different. It wasn't just anger that drove me, but a deeper, more consuming fury. Cordelia’s death had changed something in me, twisted a part of my soul that I wasn’t sure I could ever untangle.

"Are you alright?" Lily’s voice broke through my thoughts. She had stopped and was looking back at me, her eyes sharp even in the dim light.

"Yeah," I lied, not trusting myself to say more.

She studied me for a moment, then nodded. "We’re almost there. Azamar Pass is just beyond these woods."

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. We continued on, the terrain growing steeper as we neared the pass. The ground beneath our feet turned rocky, the air heavy with the scent of sulfur. The volcano loomed in the distance, a dark silhouette against the night sky.

We reached the edge of the reserve and paused, taking in the sight before us. The pass was a narrow strip of land, flanked by jagged cliffs and treacherous drops. It was more daunting in person than it had seemed on my maps.

"Stay close," Lily warned, her voice low. "The winds can be brutal up here, and the paths are narrow."

We started across, the wind immediately whipping at our clothes and hair. I pulled my cloak tighter around me, every step a fight against the elements. Lily moved with the grace of someone who had done this a hundred times before, her large frame somehow slipping through the narrowest of paths with ease.

Halfway across, the ground trembled beneath our feet, a low rumble emanating from the volcano. I froze, fear clutching at my heart. Lily glanced back, her expression unreadable.

"Keep moving," she urged. "It’s just a tremor."

I forced myself to keep going, each step feeling like an eternity. The path seemed to go on forever, the cliffs on either side closing in like the jaws of some great beast. By the time we reached the other side, my legs were shaking and my lungs burned from the effort.

We collapsed on the ground, the safety of solid land a welcome relief. Lily pulled out a canteen and handed it to me. I took a grateful sip, the water cool and refreshing.

"Thank you," I said, my voice hoarse.

She nodded, wiping sweat from her brow. "We need to keep moving. There’s a cave not far from here where we can rest for the night."

We got to our feet and continued on, the landscape gradually shifting from rocky terrain to dense forest once more. The trees grew thicker, their branches intertwining overhead to form a natural canopy that blocked out most of the sky. The sounds of the forest began to surround us—the rustle of leaves, the distant calls of nocturnal creatures, and the occasional snap of a twig underfoot. The path ahead was narrow and winding, forcing us to move in single file, with Lily leading the way.

After what felt like hours, the cave Lily had mentioned came into view, a dark, yawning mouth in the side of a moss-covered hill. The entrance was partially hidden by overgrown vines and thick underbrush, making it almost invisible to the casual observer. We ducked inside, and the temperature dropped noticeably, the cool, damp air enveloping us like a shroud. The cave was surprisingly spacious, with a high ceiling that echoed our footsteps as we ventured further in.

Lily set down my bag and immediately began gathering kindling for a fire, her movements quick and efficient. I watched her as she worked, unable to shake the feeling that there was something otherworldly about her. Despite her petite frame, she moved with a precision and grace that spoke of years spent surviving in the wild. Her hands were steady and sure as she arranged the twigs and branches, and within minutes, she had a small fire crackling to life.

As the flames grew, casting flickering shadows on the cave walls, I couldn't help but study her more closely. Her face, illuminated by the firelight, seemed both young and ancient, with eyes that held secrets I couldn't begin to fathom. There was a quiet strength in her, a resilience that I envied.

"Why are you helping me?" I asked finally, breaking the silence that had settled between us.

She paused, looking up from her task, her eyes meeting mine with an intensity that made me shiver. "Because you need it," she said simply. "And because I’ve been where you are."

I frowned, not understanding. "Where I am?"

She nodded, her expression softening. "Lost. Angry. Searching for something you can’t quite name."

Her words hit closer to home than I cared to admit. I looked away, the weight of the night's events pressing down on me once more. The memories of the fire, the screams, and the feeling of helplessness washed over me, and I had to fight to keep my composure.

"You don’t have to do this alone," she continued, her voice gentle but firm. "Whatever it is you’re searching for, it’s out there. But you won’t find it by tearing yourself apart."

I didn’t know what to say, the truth of her words cutting through my defenses. For the first time in a long while, I felt a glimmer of hope. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps there was a way forward that didn’t involve self-destruction.

"Get some rest," she said, her tone softening even further. "We have a long journey ahead of us."

I nodded, lying down on the cool ground, using my bag as a makeshift pillow. The fire's warmth was comforting, and the sound of the crackling flames was soothing. As I closed my eyes, exhaustion finally overtaking me, I couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, I wasn't as alone as I thought.

I couldn't see past the smoke. It was a roiling, black mass, punctuated by brilliant yellow flames that danced like demons in the night. Shiloh's voice cut through the chaos, a desperate cry reaching out through the suffocating darkness, pleading for me to return. Inside, the screams were a cacophony of terror and anguish, and I ran, my small feet pounding the earth as I shouted for Auntie. Shiloh's cries grew louder behind me, but I ignored her, driven by a singular need to reach the cottage. I had to get to Aldara.

The distance stretched endlessly, the screams crescendoed, and Shiloh's voice became an unbearable buzz in my ears. I was sobbing, calling Aldara's name, feeling the forest around me weep. The spirits that had once tormented me now seemed my only solace, and I crumpled to the ground. No matter how desperately I tried, the cottage remained out of reach. Then, from the corner of my eye, I saw it—a movement that made my breath catch.

There it was, not even ten yards away—a large, midnight-black wolf with eyes like burning coals. The firelight cast a grotesque glow on its face, revealing a blood-stained muzzle. In its mouth was an arm, the ring on it gleaming malevolently. Anger surged within me, turning my vision red as I focused on the ring—a skull etched in fiery orange and yellow. Before I could stop myself, I was chanting a spell, my voice echoing through the forest. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled in response.

The wolf dropped the arm and snarled, its eyes locked on mine. The air crackled with energy, the spell building inside me, threatening to tear me apart from the inside out. The wolf lunged, and I screamed, the spell bursting forth in a torrent of raw power. The ground shook, the trees groaned, and the wolf was thrown back, its body slamming into a tree with a sickening crunch.

I collapsed, the spell having drained every ounce of strength from my body. The forest fell silent, the only sound my ragged breathing. I crawled towards the cottage, my limbs trembling, my vision swimming. The smoke began to clear, and I could see the outline of the cottage through the haze.

Aldara lay on the ground, her body limp, her face pale. I reached her side, my hands shaking as I tried to rouse her. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at me, a weak smile playing on her lips.

"You did it," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the crackling flames. "You saved us."

I nodded, tears streaming down my face. The forest had fallen silent, the spirits watching us with a newfound respect. I had faced the darkness and emerged victorious, but at what cost?

As the first light of dawn broke through the trees, I held Aldara close, the weight of the night's events settling on my shoulders. The forest might have been our home, but it was also a place of danger and despair. And I knew, deep down, that this was only the beginning.

But then everything started to change. The flames flickered and became stars in a velvet sky. The trees twisted and turned, transforming into towering figures that whispered secrets in a language I couldn’t understand. Shiloh's voice turned into a soft lullaby, and the ground beneath me felt like the softest bed I had ever known.

Aldara’s form began to shimmer and fade, her features blurring as if she were being drawn away by an unseen hand. "You must go," she said, her voice echoing like a distant melody. "This world is not for you."

I tried to hold on to her, but my hands passed through her like smoke. The stars above began to swirl, forming a spiral that pulled me upwards, away from the forest, away from the cottage. I was weightless, floating, the screams and flames and shadows all fading into a soft, gentle darkness.

I awoke with a start, the remnants of the dream slipping away like shadows at dawn. The morning light streamed through the cave entrance, illuminating the damp stone walls and casting eerie shapes that danced in the corners of my vision. I lay there, struggling to piece together the fragments of a nightmare that felt all too real. But no matter how hard I tried, the details eluded me, leaving only a lingering sense of unease and the whisper of a name.

"You okay?" Lily's voice broke through the fog, soft yet insistent. I blinked, shaking off the last vestiges of the dream. The cool, damp air of the cave was a grounding contrast to the surreal horrors still echoing in my mind.

"Yeah," I replied, my voice hoarse. "Just a bad dream."

Lily studied me, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she could see through my flimsy facade. But she didn’t press the issue. Instead, she handed me a piece of bread and some dried fruit, which I accepted gratefully.

"We should get moving soon," she said, her tone matter-of-fact. "The sooner we leave, the better our chances of staying ahead."

I nodded, chewing slowly as my thoughts lingered on the dream, the name echoing like a distant drumbeat in my mind.

We packed up quickly, the remnants of the fire reduced to ashes that Lily expertly scattered with her foot. Outside, the forest was waking up, the early morning light filtering through the leaves and casting a soft, golden glow on everything. Birds chirped, and small creatures rustled in the underbrush, weaving a tapestry of normalcy that stood in stark contrast to the turmoil roiling inside me.

As we began to walk, the path ahead seemed clearer, more defined. It was as if the forest itself was guiding us, the trees parting just enough to show the way. I fell into step behind Lily, my thoughts drifting back to her words from the night before: lost, angry, searching for something you can't quite name.

"Can I ask you something?" I ventured after a while, breaking the silence.

"Sure," Lily replied, not turning around, her attention focused on the path ahead.

"Why are you going east?"

She hesitated, tension knotting in her shoulders. "I’m trying to find my daughter," she said finally, her voice low. "We got separated when the incursion started up north. I have some friends in Ozryn who might know where to find her."

"I'm sorry," I said, not knowing what else to offer. The weight of loss was something I understood all too well. “I hope she’s alright.”

"I’m sure she is," Lily continued, her voice softening. "I don’t like being away from her, but I know she can take care of herself. I’m just being cautious with the elves in the area."

“I’ll help you find her,” I promised, a sudden surge of determination filling me. “Once I’ve done what I came here to do.”

Lily chuckled, a sound tinged with both gratitude and disbelief. “Thanks, kid. But I don’t think we’ll need your help. Tinka can’t hide from me.”

“But I’m indebted to you,” I insisted. “It’s the least I can do.”

“You’re assisting me during my journey. You don’t have a debt as long as you do that magic thing and slice and dice whatever gets in our way.”

We walked in silence for a while, the forest around us providing a comforting backdrop to our shared grief. There was something about being in nature that made the pain more bearable, as if the trees and the earth could absorb some of the sorrow that threatened to overwhelm us.

After a few hours, we reached a clearing with a small stream gurgling through it. The water was crystal clear, the gentle sound of it flowing over the rocks soothing my frayed nerves. We stopped to rest, filling our water bottles, the cool water a welcome relief against the weight of our thoughts.

As I splashed some on my face, the chill sent a jolt of clarity through me, a reminder that life continued to flow, regardless of the chaos that swirled around us. And for a brief moment, I felt the edges of my turmoil soften, blending into the rhythm of the world around us.

As we sat by the stream, the water rushing over smooth stones like whispered secrets, Lily reached into her pack and pulled out a small, leather-bound book. She began writing in it with a pen unlike any I had ever seen—a sharp blade at the end, glimmering as it danced across the page without needing a drop of ink.

“Why are you going to the mountains?” she asked, her voice carrying an edge of curiosity.

“I’m looking for someone,” I replied, staring at the water’s surface, its reflections shifting like memories just out of reach. “Someone important to me said I needed to find her.”

“Let me guess,” Lily sighed, her tone a blend of weariness and knowing. “Naida?”

“How did you…?”

“She’s the only thing out there worth hunting down,” the hybrid drawled, pulling her hood down to reveal ears the color of rust, tipped in black, and hair that cascaded like ink down her shoulders. “Must be needing Khione. Do you know what for?”

I cleared my throat, the words heavy with significance. “I’m trying to get extra help in the south. I was told they might be able to assist us.”

Lily laughed, but it was a humorless sound, tinged with bitterness. “Naida might. Khione? I doubt it. That old bitch doesn’t do anything except fuck the little whores she keeps in her castle while my friends starve in those mountains.”

I stared at her, taken aback by the rawness of her words, the pain wrapped around them like a vine. “That’s quite a reputation she has.”

Lily’s expression hardened, the air thickening with her disdain. “Reputation? It’s the truth. Khione has power, sure, but it comes with a price. She doesn’t help anyone unless there’s something in it for her. If you’re seeking aid, you’d better be prepared to pay dearly for it.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, a knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach.

Lily leaned back against a tree, her gaze drifting to the rushing water, as if searching for answers in its depths. “She’s got a knack for making deals that trap you. You think you’re getting help, but it’s usually a trap. You could end up worse off than before.”

I let her words sink in, the implications wrapping around my mind like a cold fog. “So, what do you suggest? Just forget about it?”

“No,” she said, her voice firm, slicing through my doubts. “I’m just saying to be cautious. If you really think Naida can help, go to her. But if Khione is involved… just be ready for anything.”

“What do you know about Naida?” I pressed, desperate for any insight that might illuminate my path.

“She’s a force to be reckoned with,” Lily replied, her tone shifting slightly, like the wind before a storm. “A protector of the mountains, they say. If anyone can help us, it might be her. But she’s not easily found, and even harder to convince. You’ll need to prove yourself worthy of her time.”

I nodded, determination battling with trepidation in my chest. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Lily studied me for a moment, her expression softening. “I believe you. Just remember, you’re not alone in this. We’ll figure it out together.”

“Together,” I echoed, warmth spreading through me at the reassurance. It was comforting to know I had someone by my side who understood the stakes.

We resumed our journey, the path growing steeper as we ventured deeper into the forest. The sun climbed higher, casting dappled shadows on the ground, and the air was thick with the scent of pine and earth—invigorating yet heavy with the weight of our conversations.

As we navigated the terrain, our topic shifted to lighter matters, and I found myself laughing at Lily’s sarcastic quips about the creatures of the forest. Her spirit was contagious, and the laughter felt good, a welcome reprieve from the tension that had settled in my bones.

Eventually, we reached a vantage point overlooking a vast expanse of mountains in the distance. The peaks were shrouded in mist, an ethereal quality lending them an almost otherworldly presence. I could almost feel the pull of Khione’s castle lurking somewhere among them, a siren’s call promising both danger and salvation—a promise that felt too heavy to bear.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long, creeping shadows across the ground, we stumbled upon another cave. This one was smaller, cozier, and had a natural chimney that promised to keep the night’s chill at bay. The entrance was framed by thick vines and moss, giving it an almost hidden quality, like a secret the forest had kept for itself. As we stepped inside, the air was cool and damp, a welcome relief from the heat of the day, and soon we had a fire crackling to life, its flickering light casting playful shadows against the damp stone walls.

Settled by the fire, I pulled out the remnants of our meager supplies while Lily rummaged through her pack. The warmth enveloped us, creating an intimate cocoon as we prepared a simple meal from what little we had left. The aroma of the dried meat she had brought wafted into the air, mixing with the earthy scent of the cave.

“You’re a vegetarian?” Lily laughed, a sound rich with amusement that echoed around us, almost like a melody bouncing off the walls.

“Yes. Do you have any nuts?” I replied, attempting to keep my tone casual despite the slight twist of discomfort in my stomach at the thought of what she might offer.

Lily shook her head, still chuckling. “That won’t keep you healthy, little one. Have some rabbit. I killed it yesterday.”

Her words hung in the air like a challenge. I recoiled as she brought the dried meat closer, the odor hitting me like a wave of something unpleasant—savage and primal. “Ugh,” I flinched away, my face contorting in distaste.

Her laughter deepened, a hearty sound that seemed to vibrate within the cave’s very stones. “Don’t make that face,” she teased, her voice rich with mirth. “I have a pack of nuts and mushrooms in my bag.”

I caught the bag she tossed my way, the soft thud of it landing in my hands almost comforting. “Thanks,” I said, rifling through the contents. “You know, not everyone can be a barbarian like you.”

“Barbarian?” she replied, raising an eyebrow, a smirk dancing on her lips. “Just because I prefer my meals with a bit more substance doesn’t make me a barbarian.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” I replied, rolling my eyes as I munched on a handful of nuts, their earthy taste grounding me. “But seriously, rabbit? Did you have to?”

Lily chuckled again, the firelight illuminating her features with a warm glow, casting playful shadows on her face. “You’re too soft. A little meat might toughen you up.”

“I’m plenty tough,” I shot back, more defensively than I intended. “I just don’t see the need to eat something that was hopping around yesterday.”

“Oh, I see. You’re a sensitive soul, aren’t you?” Her sarcasm dripped like honey, thick and sweet, teasing at my vulnerabilities.

“Just practical,” I countered, crossing my arms as I met her gaze. “I like my food to be, you know, not staring at me with big, sad eyes.”

Lily laughed again, a rich, genuine sound that resonated off the cave walls. “You’re a riot. Alright, sensitive soul, eat your nuts. I’ll enjoy my rabbit.” She leaned back against the cave wall, her posture relaxed yet ready.

I shook my head, unable to suppress a smile. “One day, you’ll see the benefits of a vegetarian diet.”

“Doubtful,” she said, a playful challenge in her eyes. “But hey, I’ll give you this—you’ve got guts. I like that.”

“Thanks, I guess,” I replied, feeling an unexpected sense of camaraderie despite our bickering. “I could say the same about you.”

“Oh, you’re just full of compliments tonight,” she quipped, mock bowing as if accepting an award. “What did I do to deserve such praise?”

I laughed, the tension of the day easing like the fire’s warmth. “Just being you, I suppose.”

“Well, aren’t you sweet,” she said, though her eyes sparkled with warmth, a glimmer of something deeper beneath the surface. For a fleeting moment, it felt like we were both trying to shield ourselves from the weight of the world outside, a world filled with uncertainty and danger.

We settled into a comfortable silence, the crackling fire providing a soothing backdrop to our thoughts. Despite the teasing, there was an ease between us, a shared understanding that felt almost sacred in the dim light of the cave. She reminded me of a blend of Cordelia and Thelma—strong yet nurturing, the kind of ally you wished for in times of darkness.

As I lay down to sleep, the flickering flames began to blur into shadows, and a sense of peace washed over me—something I hadn’t felt in far too long. The nightmare from the night before felt like a distant echo, a whisper that faded with the growing warmth of the fire. I found comfort in the knowledge that whatever challenges awaited, I wouldn’t have to face them alone.

I glanced at Lily, illuminated by the firelight, her features softening as she lost herself in thought. There was a hint of sorrow in the lines around her mouth, a weathered quality I hadn’t fully appreciated until this moment. Her eyes were distant, reflecting something that felt ancient and haunting, as if they held stories of their own.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that swearing is rude?” she barked suddenly, her gaze flicking to me with playful accusation.

I closed my eyes, feeling a flush of embarrassment. “Once or twice.”

“Sleep, little one. I’ll try to keep your nightmares away.” Her tone was softer now, as if she understood the weight of my weariness.

My eyes snapped back open at her words. Lily noticed my surprise and smiled gently, a transformation that made her appear ten years younger, the burden of her past momentarily lifted.

“You were crying,” she said softly, concern lacing her words.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, shame flooding my cheeks, wishing I could pull the memories of my fears back into the depths of my mind.

“I have nightmares, too. One day, I’ll tell you why they haunt me and why they never leave. But for now, let me share how I manage to survive them.”

Lily pulled a band from her wrist and swept her hair into a messy ponytail. The movement highlighted her tall, pointed ears, a feature that now seemed almost majestic in the firelight. I couldn’t help but wonder about the rest of her—a creature born of both human and something wild, a mixture of strength and vulnerability hidden beneath her baggy clothes.

“On bad mornings, it feels impossible to enjoy anything because I’m terrified it could vanish. So, I play a little game: I make a mental list of every act of kindness I’ve witnessed. I just do it over and over again. It gets tedious, but after doing it for so long, you get used to it. There are worse games to play.”

Her words settled between us, a fragile bridge built from shared pain. Whatever shadows haunted her, it was clear she wouldn’t share them tonight. I was too wrapped up in my own swirling thoughts to consider her horrors—too many fears to confront, too many questions I didn’t want to voice. I didn’t think she was hoping for anything from me, anyway; she seemed content to offer her wisdom without demanding answers in return.

“Wake me if you have them,” I whispered into the darkness, feeling a strange sense of connection in the quiet. “I can try my best to keep yours away, too.”

“Thank you. You’re very sweet,” she replied, and her sincerity made my stomach twist with unease; if only she knew how wrong she was.

I rolled over, facing away from her, the warmth of her words lingering in the air like a promise. “Go to bed. We have a long day tomorrow,” she said, her voice fading into the quiet.

Lily hummed softly, but I couldn’t hear her moving around. Giving up on being social, I closed my eyes and willed myself into sleep.

As I drifted further away from consciousness, the last thing I saw was the silhouette of a deer gliding through the trees, its antlers twisted into a heart-like shape against the dusky sky. I lay there, watching the creature as I sank deeper into slumber, just on the brink of nothingness when I felt Lily shuffle closer.

“Idiot forgot about a blanket,” she murmured, and suddenly I was enveloped in warmth, her presence a comforting shield against the unknown that lurked outside the cave.

The warmth wrapped around me like a tender embrace, and I could no longer hold my eyes open. Just before sleep fully claimed me, I felt the stirrings of peace settle into my bones, allowing me to drift away into the safety of dreams—where the forest would guard my heart for just a little while longer.

Translations

Bicce - Female dog (bitch)

Swígan - Quiet

Taglist: @greezenini @adventures-in-bookland @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @zae007live @jimin-neverout @nikkiordonez12 @canarystwin @yamekomz @chimthicc @michiiedreamer @amorieus @mima795 @yunki-yunki-yunki @vskhn016 @keiarajm

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interesting-interludes · 1 year ago

Text

the comforts of creatures (5)

creature comforts:

↳ material/bodily comforts, such as food, warmth, or special accommodations, that contribute to physical ease and well-being

→ pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

→ genre: supernatural!au, soulmate!au, hurt + comfort + recovery, angst with a happy ending, fluff, eventual smut

→ word count: 4.8k

→ summary: you learn what you are, and your reaction is far from what they expected. as they try to help you feel safe, the boys learn about your triggers, and they try their hardest to help in any way they can.

→ trigger/content warnings: PTSD (self-loathing, mistrust, flashbacks/nightmares) effects of brainwashing, lil’ bit of lore, overt and internalized racism/species-ism (?), vomiting, anxiety, mentions of starvation/food poisoning, mentions of physical abuse, dissociation, mentions of torture, aversion to touch, mc pushes jimin but he’s okay, jimin is an angel, facial/body scars, body dysmorphia/repulsion

→ a/n: thank y’all for your patience :) here’s some more hurt before the comfort lol

past part ← series masterlist → next part

part 5: scars and soothers

“This is you.”

The man is pointing at a detailed image drawn in faded ink. The rest of the page is filled with scripted text and anatomical diagrams.

You can’t look at first, scared of what you’ll find.

When you finally do, you don’t know what to think. There’s the thought that he’s kidding, he’s lying. He can’t be serious.

The drawing is of a creature with tawny-feathered wings extending magnificently in the air. It has the body of a powerful big cat, muscular yet elegant. Its four legs end in sharp-taloned feet. Its neck is framed by a golden mane, looking like a big frilly collar. The mane’s trail travels down the creature’s chest and back, ending in a flowing tail. It has the face of a lion, with white whiskers and deep yellow eyes, yet the regal posture of an eagle.

A diagram off to the left shows the inside of its mouth, lined with row upon row of sharp teeth and protruding fangs.

Looking back up, you search the faces of the men around you. None of them appear to be joking.

You can’t speak.

You’re one of them, one of the creatures they all despised. The creatures that roam the wild lands for easy prey, spreading carnage wherever they go.

No wonder they hated you so much. You’re not even human.

A few silent, involuntary tears fall from your eyes, which are locked back on the page. You wipe them away hastily.

The boys don’t know how to react, all looking at each other with concern.

“What...” you squeak out, voice choked. “What is it?”

“A gryffin,” Yoongi replies. “You’re a shifter.”

Something gurgles in your stomach. You clench your teeth, nails digging deep into the meat of your thighs.

You believe him. You don’t want to, but you believe him. You’ve always felt less than human, like something wasn’t right about you. Like something was just beneath the surface, clawing its way up.

Now you know why.

Jungkook, who’s sitting closest to you, slowly, cautiously puts his hand on your shoulder in an effort to comfort you.

But you flinch at his touch, jerking away.

You don’t catch the look of hurt that flits across his face. He knows you can’t help it, but it still stings to think that his touch physically repels you.

“What did they tell you about atypicals?” Namjoon presses, trying to shift your attention so you won’t look so disheartened by the reality of what you are.

From the way you look at him, he knows that you’ve never heard that word before. Or at least you don’t remember it.

“Atypicals are anything that falls out of the humanic species,” he explains patiently.

Your face scrunches in confusion.

“Humanic as in human,” he elaborates.

You don’t understand why he’s talking like that. You’ve never heard these terms before. In the place you came from, the “facility,” anything that wasn’t human was an abomination, a mistake in the eyes of nature.

Simple as that.

But here, things seem to be a bit more complicated.

Nausea is starting to bubble in your gut. You breathe carefully through your nose as you consider Namjoon’s question.

“They said...” you begin hesitantly.

They’re all on the edge of their seats, desperately wondering what those bastards brainwashed you to believe about their kind, your own kind.

“They said that they were monsters.”

Another pang of hurt thrums through their hearts.

“That...that they deserved to be hunted down like dogs.”

They can hear the pain in your own voice, either from witnessing their cruel behavior, or from realizing that you’ve been the target of it this whole time.

Your stomach churns.

“They said I wasn’t even worthy to lick the ground they walked on.”

They can all hear you choking on your tears, despite your attempts to hide it.

Jimin and Jungkook feel like their chests are going to burst from holding it in, both the sorrow they feel for you and the urge to rush forward and drown you in affection.

Jin and Namjoon have storms raging inside their heads. Namjoon is calculating, trying to decode what exactly their motive was and how to use it to track down the ones in charge of it all. Jin’s mind is reeling with ways to undo the damage they’ve done, mentally and physically.

Yoongi is swimming waist-deep in despair. He can’t help but think of what’s to come. You’ll have to relearn everything. How to shift, how to fight, how to cast. That is, if you even want to.

You feel the newly strung tension in the air, looking like you just realized you said all of those things out loud.

One look around the room, and your newly found voice retreats deep into your throat.

The man called Namjoon, his eyes have darkened, jaw clenched and ticking like he’s grinding his teeth.

The one who tended to your wounds is sitting stiffly in his chair, staring ahead with a new sharpness in his face.

The small dark-haired man has his hands clenched, prominent veins crawling up his arms.

You duck your head down, body stiff with nerves.

“You have to know,” Yoongi begins, voice calm as ever despite the rage just below the surface. “That’s not how most people think. Especially not here.”

Here in the North Regions, atypicals make up the majority of the population. Law enforcement, government, and public works are largely run by them, and prejudice is rarely an issue.

But how could you know that now?

They can all see the change. It’s almost instantaneous, the way your face shifts and loses all semblance of emotion. Just like that, the mask is back up.

Then there’s something else. A slight twitch from your nose, a well-hidden shudder. They can see your throat bobbing.

For a few seconds, it looks like you’re about to say something. Your tongue is moving inside your mouth, and you’re blinking rapidly.

Namjoon is about to utter some gentle encouragement, but a jolt racks through your body, making you hunch over.

All of a sudden you’re vomiting up everything you just ate.

Hoseok, Jungkook and Jimin can’t help but jump to their feet, panicked noises filling the air.

Taehyung’s eyes widen. All his limbs go rigid, paralyzing him in his seat. He feels sick himself.

Jin, Namjoon, and Yoongi all look at each other.

Yoongi thrusts into action, heading to the kitchen with Jungkook in tow since he isn’t good around pungent-smelling things.

Namjoon starts giving instructions. Jimin, paper towels. Hobi, get the mop. Said men jolt into action, scrambling to do whatever they can to help.

Jin’s eyes have been fixed on you for some time now, catching your every move, including all the suppressed flinches and tremors.

He’s at your side in an instant, on his knees to try to catch your eyes. But it’s no use, you’re squeezing your eyes shut like you’re expecting to be hit.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he mutters in his gentlest voice. “It’s no big deal. No one is upset with you.”

As much as he wants to, he refrains from touching you right away.

Eyes still tightly shut, you flinch away from the sound of his voice, twitching with anxiety.

Jin can see you start to spiral, so he does the only thing he knows will work.

“Hey,” he begins, voice firmer than it was before. “Look at me.”

Your eyes snap open, shining with moisture.

“That’s my girl,” Jin says before he can help it. “You’re going to calm down for me, yeah?”

Your eyes desperately search his face, looking for any sign of anger or deception. You find none, not even a hint of disgust, and your breathing starts to slow.

All that’s there is the man who tended to your wounds, watching you with those patient eyes. His handsome face is calm, attentively anticipating whatever you need right now.

Sweat gathers on your skin. That same sensation crawls up your throat, saliva pooling in your mouth.

Jin notices the signs immediately.

“Come with me,” he orders softly, putting a light hand on your back and leading you to the nearest bathroom.

You don’t know what to do with yourself.

You remember vomiting a few times at the facility. Once from eating a rotten vegetable, the mold making it impossible to identify. And once when a handful of keepers had held you down, repeatedly punching you in the stomach, until you gave in and called yourself a mutt.

Both times you were severely punished for making a mess. You learned to hold it in your mouth and swallow it down after that.

Jin guides you to kneel over the toilet. He keeps talking to you, but you only process half of what he’s saying.

“Go ahead, let it out,”

You can feel it creeping up, burning and sour. But something deeper, something almost instinctual, tells you to keep it down.

“Stop holding it in, sweetheart,” he says, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “It’s not good for you. It’s okay to let go.”

Before you can think to suppress it, another wave of nausea surges through your body. The crescendo of it makes you wretch, emptying the last of your stomach’s contents.

“Good, good, just get it all out,” he encourages instead of beating you until you can’t breathe.

The bile is bitter in your mouth, but not more bitter than the dread clinging to your entire being.

He’s not going to punish me, you finally realize. It’s almost an impossible thought.

For a moment, you stay hunched over, frozen. Not sure what to do next.

“Here, come wash your mouth out,” Jin says, helping you stand up on shaky legs.

The sound of running water rings in your ears. You feel the coolness against your tongue, but barely register that you’re the one cupping it to your lips. Numb. You feel like you’re controlling your body from the outside rather than the inside.

“Now, let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

You look up at him for the first time in a while. His face is as kind as it was before, with the same full-lipped smile and warm brown eyes.

The man starts to lead you out of the room, that same gentle hand resting on your back.

It isn’t until then that you realize you’re still in the grimy clothes they found you in. And now the entire front of your shirt is stained with even more filth.

You glance into the living room as you pass through the hallway.

The other men are diligently cleaning the area you just soiled. The small dark-haired man and the muscular man are missing, though you can hear rustling from the kitchen.

The one with the jet black hair and bright face catches your eye, flashing a reassuring smile. It makes you rip your eyes away.

Jin guides you into the living room, and everyone immediately looks your way.

Shrinking, you’re shrinking into yourself as much as your body will allow.

“Someone run a bath,” Jin announces. “I think it’s time our little guest got some sleep in clean clothes.”

The fair-haired one steps forward and exchanges a subtle look with Jin, who’s standing slightly behind you.

“Would you follow me?” the shorter man says, holding out his hand.

It’s the one with the silver-gray hair and warm eyes. You think his name is Jimin. His face is soft and friendly. It asks a silent question: will you trust me?

You don’t take his hand, but you do take a step up the stairs in the direction he’s leading you.

You don’t catch it, but Jimin and Jin exchange a heartfelt glance, nearly ecstatic at the fact that you’re beginning to trust them.

Jimin leads you up the stairs as the rest of them settle things downstairs.

When you reach the top, he guides you down a spacious hallway that’s filled with potted plants and window light.

Every single door, down to the very end of the hall, is open. Whether it’s open wide or just a crack, not one of them is closed or locked. You’re not used to it.

The man, Jimin, stops at a door halfway down the hall and looks back to check if you’re still following him.

You stop a few feet away from him, still keeping your distance, but your expression is open and neutral, waiting on his next move.

He gives you a calm smile, and continues into the room with you behind him.

This room is just as bright and inviting as the rest of the house. White walls and clean tile floors, but this time with a large porcelain tub and a sink with marble countertops.

The man turns to look at you with a question in his eyes.

“Shower or bath?” he asks.

It’s a harmless question, a considerate question. But your mind is yanked back to that place.

Shower. A torrent of fire raining down on you, vision blinded by steam. It comes from every angle, unrelenting no matter how much you scream.

They would strip you down and lock you in a metal stall the size of a coffin. Then the dotted ceiling would unleash a downpour of near-boiling water.

You would bang on the walls, but the water made the metal surface just as hot, the floor burning the bottom of your feet. Minutes or hours they kept you in there, not letting you out until your body was covered in burn marks.

Bath. The most intense cold you’ve ever felt. It’s everywhere, submerging you up to the neck, seeping down to your very bones.

They would chain you down in a tub full of ice, nothing but your head poking out of the frigid water. The cold chains cut into your skin the more you struggled. Your lungs would heave from the shock of it, your whole body shivering violently.

Then they would hold your head underwater until you were bucking like a stuck pig. This went on until you were utterly exhausted, falling limp against the freezing porcelain with nothing but the tight chains holding you up.

You’re snapped back to reality when the man takes a step closer. He’s watching you closely, trying to read your face.

Finally remembering that he asked you a question, you shrug your shoulders and shake your head.

You don’t want either. You don’t want to be anywhere near that tub. You want him to leave you alone.

Jimin guesses that the gesture means you don’t care which one. He figures you’re most likely still weak from malnourishment, and he doesn’t want you fainting and hitting your head.

So he opts for a bath, turning on the faucet. He sits on the edge of the tub, hand under the spout to monitor the temperature.

The sound of running water makes every muscle in your body tense up. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

It’s going to hurt, it’s going to hurt. The fire, the ice, it’s going to burn and sting and cut into your flesh. You won’t be able to escape it.

Jimin doesn’t notice it at first, too focused on adjusting the knobs to get the water not too hot and not too cold, but your breathing has picked up again.

You can already feel it filling your ears, your mouth, rushing down your throat as your head is held down. Your skin prickles from the heat, it quivers from the cold.

The water in the tub continues to rise, and you can’t move. Your body is frozen, feet rooted to the floor as the sound of sloshing roars louder and louder in your ears.

Halfway full, now. It’s coming any second. He’s going to turn on you, throw you down and hold you under.

Burning, freezing. It’ll hurt and hurt and hurt.

Jimin turns his head, and his stomach drops.

Your eyes are squeezed shut, lips pursed like you’re trying to bite back a scream. Fists clenched at your sides, shoulders trembling, as your chest heaves up and down.

Immediately, he jumps to his feet and rushes over to you.

“What is it, babe? What’s wrong?”

Then he makes a big mistake. He puts his hands on you.

His touch is gentle, nonthreatening, nothing but two hands on your shoulders. But you don’t want it, you’re repulsed by it. Because touch always comes before the pain.

On instinct, your body jerks away, arms moving to push the unwelcome touch away, just get it away. Your hands collide against something, hard.

When you open your eyes, the man is on the floor. Sprawled on his back, looking up at you with wide, slightly watery eyes.

There’s shock plastered on both of your faces.

Jimin’s soft heart hurts a little, he can’t help it. In all the years he’s known you, loved you, you’ve never ever been repelled by him. But that hurt is soon drowned by guilt.

He scared you, he made you feel unsafe. You felt the need to protect yourself and it’s his fault.

You’re staring at your hands in horror, completely floored by what you’ve done. You’re in for it now. He tried to help you and you hurt him. Now they’re going to hurt you even more.

Several sets of pounding footsteps draw near. The others must have heard the thud from downstairs and rushed up to see what was wrong.

What they don’t expect to find is Jimin crumpled on the floor and you standing over him in a braced position, but that’s exactly what they see when they peer through the doorway.

They’re all a little astonished, Jin and Namjoon are thinking deeply, and something in Taehyung’s eyes shifts.

He isn’t proud of it, but a surge of protectiveness washes over him, for his Jimin. He knows it’s unreasonable, unfair even. But it’s still there. And he can’t snuff it out.

A new fear consumes you. You were insubordinate, you resisted. You know what comes next.

A sob gets trapped in your throat as you sink down to the floor, burying your head in-between your knees and using your arms to shield yourself.

Immediately, the same way Jimin did, they all rush forward to comfort you.

“No!” Jimin blurts out, making you flinch and shake violently. “Don’t touch, give her some space.”

They all obey, keeping their distance with concern flooding their features.

Jimin shifts onto his knees, scooting a little closer but still keeping enough away.

“I’m sorry,” he nearly whispers, like he’s talking to a wild, cornered animal. “It was my fault entirely. I shouldn’t have touched you. I’m truly sorry.”

Jimin’s voice has always been soothing, even in the darkest times, and your breathing slows a little.

Jimin realizes that the faucet is still running, and he reaches over to switch it off. Then it comes to him.

He turns back to your trembling form, still waiting for the pain to come.

“You’re scared of the water, aren’t you?” he asks gently.

He doesn’t expect you to reply, he just wants to let you know that he’s trying to understand you, to help you.

You nod slightly.

It shocks them all again. You’re becoming more responsive.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Jimin says with all the sincerity he can muster. “It’s not your fault. I promise I won’t do that again.”

Your shoulders gradually stop trembling, breath coming evenly now.

Jimin looks at his mates and gestures for them to give you some more space so you can calm down.

They all do as he says, except Tae. He lingers in the doorway, his piercing eyes flickering between you and Jimin, thinking.

The two men exchange a meaningful glance. Jimin gives him a reassuring smile and nods his head as if to say “There’s nothing to worry about. I got this.”

Tae gives a slight nod back and turns to leave, throwing one last look at you.

Jimin sees the hint of distrust hidden in that look. He files it away for later.

Turning his attention back to you, Jimin looks at the tub and thinks of a solution.

“You don’t have to get in the tub, okay? We can just...” Jimin opens the cupboard under the sink and takes out a handful of washcloths.

“Like this, see?” He dips one of the cloths in the water, using it to wipe down his face.

“Is that okay?” he asks.

You scan his face. Those big brown eyes are full to the brim with kindness, as if you didn’t just hurt him moments ago.

You nod.

Jimin smiles so big it almost hurts his cheeks, heart swelling as you hesitantly hold your hand open. He puts another cloth in your waiting palm.

“Okay, here’s the soap, shampoo, conditioner. You can wash your face with this. Use whatever you want, okay?”

You look at him, trying to convey with your eyes what your mouth can’t say. He stays there for a moment, sitting with you on the tile, answering your every question with just his expression.

It’s okay. You’re safe here. No one is going to hurt you. You can trust me. I understand you.

Breaking from his reverie, Jimin gets up and moves to leave.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” he says, swinging the door closed.

You shoot forward and grab the knob just before it shuts.

Jimin jumps a little, whipping back around. There’s confusion on his face, then understanding.

“Okay, we’ll leave it open just like this. I’ll be just outside if you need anything, okay?”

You feel the tension release from your chest, and nod back.

Another warm smile, and then he disappears into the next room.

He’s not going to lock you in. Another impossible realization.

Turning around, you stare at the full tub. Your heartbeat skitters a little, but you take a step towards it anyways.

When you dip your fingertips in the clear water, you expect it to be scalding, or cold enough to numb, but it’s neither. The water is warm and calm, it doesn’t burn, it doesn’t sting.

Another breath releases from your lungs.

You use the cloth and soap to wipe down your whole body, shedding your dirty clothes and tossing them aside. Soon the tub is cloudy from the dirt on the washcloth. You even dip your hair into the water and use a little shampoo to get some of the grime out.

You sit there and wash yourself until the water turns cold. Using the counter to steady yourself, you slowly come to a stand, even though your legs are aching.

The sight in front of you is enough to shock you into silence again.

You can’t remember the last time you saw your reflection. You wish you weren’t seeing it now.

The person in the mirror is ugly and pathetic. Her short hair is a mangled mess. Haphazardly cut with a pair of dull scissors, it sticks out in all different angles. Her eyes are blank and lifeless, red-rimmed and surrounded by dark circles. There’s a large, hideous scar across her left cheek, deep and forked like a flash of lightning.

Her body is weak and repulsive. Slouching forward, she’s barely able to hold herself up. She’s covered in scars and marks, all over her legs, her arms, her torso.

You know there are worse scars behind you.

Horrifically entranced, you slowly reach up to touch the scar across her face, your face. Your fingertips meet the textured tissue, and then there’s the pain.

It’s not a physical pain, it doesn’t originate from the scar itself. It’s a pain deep in your chest, spreading and infecting the rest of your body. It maims you, twists your insides, disfigures your soul.

You muffle the silent scream with a hand over your mouth. Knees buckling, you barely have any strength left to keep yourself upright.

You’re barely you. You don’t remember who you were before, but you know it wasn’t this.

A gentle knock on the door.

You immediately stifle any signs of discomfort, snapping the mask back on with frightening accuracy.

Jimin’s arms poke through the gap in the door. He sets a bundle of clothes on the counter.

“Here you go," his pleasant voice says. “Please let me know if they’re comfortable enough.”

You wait a good twenty seconds before you reach for them. A warm green sweater and soft cotton pants.

You hurriedly slip them on to hide your disgusting body.

Leaning closer to the door, you try to hear beyond the wood. Hushed voices, muted footsteps.

“Ready, love?” a smooth voice sounds from just behind the door.

You flinch away, trying your best to make your hair look less unkempt.

It’s Jin who cautiously swings the door open, greeting you with an affectionate smile.

“Much better, hmm?” he says.

You manage a curt nod, following him with your head down to another room.

It’s the room from earlier, the one with the massive bed. The rest of them are here waiting, muttering quiet words until you arrive. Then they go silent and set their eyes on you, asking a question you can’t understand.

Why are they all looking at you? You don’t like it, not at all. People who look like them shouldn’t look at someone like you. You’re wrong, inside and out.

They all notice the change. Now your eyes are trained on the ground, head bent and shoulders folding in on yourself like you wish you would disappear.

Jin ushers you towards the humongous bed, encouraging you to settle in under the covers. He tucks the comforter around your body, fluffing the pillows behind your head.

“There, nice and cozy,” he says, sounding satisfied for the time being. “Rest up, okay love? You’ve been through a lot.”

Why are they talking to you like that? You’re disgusting. They should be throwing you out on the streets to fend for yourself like a common rat.

The small dark-haired man kneels down next to you. He hands you a mug of steaming amber liquid, using the bed sheets to shield your hands from the hot surface.

“This should settle your stomach,” he says.

While Jimin was getting you cleaned up, Yoongi and Jungkook were hard at work cooking up a tincture for your nausea. Essence of lavender to help you sleep, peppermint to refresh your throat, a little ginger to ease your stomach, and some of Yoongi’s highest-quality potions to replenish your nutrients. And, of course, Jin stirred in a copious amount of honey to sweeten it up.

You hold the cup in your hands like it’s a ticking time bomb.

Yoongi looks at his mates in confusion and concern, not sure what to do. Jimin catches his gaze, and gestures wildly with his hands. He exaggeratedly mimics holding the cup and taking a sip, and then Yoongi understands.

He gently takes the mug from your hands and holds it up to his nose.

“Let me check if it’s too hot for you,” he says, blowing off some of the steam and taking a long sip. He makes sure to swallow with audible emphasis.

“Okay, it should be good,” he says, handing it back to you.

This time you hold it close to your chest like it’s a precious gem, slowly sipping away at the frothy liquid.

They all look at each other with a relieved, triumphant expression.

Namjoon steps forward and leans down to level his face with yours.

“There’s water for you over there,” he gestures to a table in the corner, complete with a pitcher and cup. “And the bathroom is the next door over.”

You nod to show your appreciation, still avoiding eye contact.

Jin enters your field of vision again.

“Do you think you can hold down some meds?” he asks. It’s sincere, no seeming deception behind it.

But you still shake your head vehemently. You don’t want anymore pills. In fact, you don’t want to see another pill ever in your life.

“Okay, love,” he says, smiling again. “Just rest up for me. For us.”

You have no idea what he means by that, but you sink into the pillows anyway.

One by one they filter out of the room, casting a last look at you before they leave.

You wish they wouldn’t. Their eyes seem to leave even more marks on your skin.

The door starts to swing shut. Then someone mutters something, and it stops just before it closes completely.

Footsteps recede, silence settles upon the room.

You manage a few more sips from the steaming mug, eventually setting it aside. The bed is soft and comfortable, but you can’t bring yourself to lie down.

You sit there, watching shadows dart across the wall, for hours.

a/n: thanks so much for reading!! if you enjoyed it please leave a comment on what you thought of the story/any questions it would mean the world to me!! and if you’re feeling extra generous, please reblog with tags it helps to spread the story around, thank you!! 💖

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writingforsimps · 1 year ago

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Midnight Fang — Master List

Summary: The werewolves thought they found all their mates. They never imaged they’d met another, let alone that she’d be a vampire.

Warning: Blood, Alcohol, Sex, Breeding, Mate Au Supernatural AU, Poly Au, Unrequited Love, Rejection, Hurt/Comfort, Other… (Specific Warnings not mentioned will be made in each chapter this is just a small none specific overview)

This Series is in the process of writing.

_____

• Prologue <-

Chapter 0.5

(^ Note at the end explaining)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

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PS, I’m trying to make this as clean and easy to follow as possible. I hate FFs where you read a really good one and you can’t find the second or fifth part bc it’s lost somewhere on the blog.

#werewolf! bts #bts x fem!reader #bts x you #poly bts x reader #bts x reader #vampire reader #supernatural au #jimin #junkook #yoongi #hoseok #jin #taehyung #namjoon

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sopejinsunflower · 26 days ago

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2024.001.021: Into The Deep End

Go to series masterlist

____________________________________________________________

“Babe, what are you waiting for?”

As usual, Nick always went in first, leaving me standing at the edge of the lake, toes curling around the flat rocks beneath my feet, watching him with narrowed eyes as he swam further and further away. I took a tentative step forward and then another, the water slowly rising up until it hit the back of my knees, as slowly as the fear that grew in my chest.

“Nick!” I called out at the distant splashing I assumed was him. His head popped out and grinned ear to ear. He shook his head like a wet dog and waved me over. “Come on over here. Don’t be a baby,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“You know I can’t swim,” I said with a nervous laugh. “I’ll just stay here. You go on ahead.”

Nick swam back and I watched the way his strong arms stroke through the water making his way to me. He stood up in front of me, shaking water from his hair. “I’m sorry, baby. Here.” He put my arms around his shoulders. “Get on my back.”

I tried to pull away. “No, I’m fine. You can go-”

“Come on. Don’t be a wuss. Get on.”

I hesitated but Nick didn’t bother to wait, as usual, pulling me onto his back and grabbing onto my thighs to pull me up securely. “Deep breaths, baby,” he ordered and without another warning, he dove into the water.

The cool water hit my face and I tensed up, hearing the distant alarm bells ringing in my head. My eyes stung and I closed them, albeit too late. Nick swam fast, his legs kicking behind him as he dragged me through the dark water of the lake. My chest burnt and I struggled to hold my breath. I signalled to Nick to go up, tapping on his shoulder urgently but when he didn’t get the message, I started shaking him more forcefully.

But Nick continued on, swimming forward and almost as if he was going even faster. I could feel the panic setting in at the thought of how far from the shallow end we must have gone, but more importantly of how dark it seemed to be. It was ridiculous but it felt like I was being pulled down to the depths of it, a sudden feeling of being trapped overwhelming me. At that point, all I wanted was to get off of him, the alarm bells now screaming in my head telling me that being attached to his back was much more dangerous than the water. I didn’t feel safe with him.

I must have tightened my grip against Nick’s neck because now he was the one struggling, pushing against my arms. But in that moment, it felt like he wanted me to let go so I’d sink to the bottom of the lake, gone forever, a way for him to get rid of me quick and easy and with less of a mess. I held on tighter, feeling his Adam’s apple somewhat digging into my arm now and this time Nick was literally fighting me off, prying my arms with one hand while trying to stay afloat.

My survival instinct kicked in and I was latched on to him like some kind of parasite, unknowingly choking him to death while at the same time believing that he was the one trying to kill me. Bubbles escaped both our lips and I heard him shout something under the water. It took him awhile before he resurfaced, both of us spluttering and gasping for air.

“Let go of me!”

His strength outmatched mine and he finally managed to pry me off. It was when my butt hit the rocky ground that I noticed we were already by the shore with families and groups of friends and couples staring at me looking like an almost drowned rat being berated, which is not far from the truth, I thought.

“Crazy bitch!” Nick spat before he stormed off towards the car, cursing under his breath.

~~~

Jin is the type of person that would do his best to keep all the bad memories away. He likes to focus on the good so it makes everything else more bearable, so when you asked him that question, his mind just went completely blank.

“Jin?” you urge, shaking him a little, your nails digging into his skin.

He blinks, his gear kicking in. “Let’s get out of here first,” he says, gently guiding you out of the space inside the wall. His mouth feels dry and his tongue is now a block of sandpaper. He keeps his hands on you as you both walk downstairs, being hyper aware of the silken smooth material of your top, knowing that he’s only holding on to you to keep himself grounded.

They run into Hoseok when they reach the second floor and one look at Jin is enough to alert the other man. That look, as well as your puffy red eyes.

“What happened?” he approaches you and boldly tips your chin up to get a proper look at your face. “Are you okay?”

At the sheepish grin you give him, he turns to Jin. “Hyung?”

“I-” you start to say before clearing your throat and trying again. “I got stuck in the wall.”

“What?!”

“I’m fine!” you rush to add. “Jin found me. I’m okay.” You look at Jin and give his hand a squeeze. “We’re okay.”

Jin seems to suddenly realise where he is but his reaction surprises both himself and you. He lets go of your hand more abruptly than he intended, mumbles something neither you nor Hoseok could make out and then excuses himself. He walks away, down the stairs and then disappears from your sight even before you even think of what to say to stop him. You look back helplessly at Hoseok who shrugs his shoulders.

“He’ll be okay,” he reassures, although the scowl on his face remains. He doesn’t look convinced himself. “He just…needs time.” Hoseok gently pulls you towards your bedroom. “Do you want to tell me what happened though?”

The memory resurfaces and you purse your lips. “I think I saw a memory.”

“Of?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I think I drowned? A long time ago?”

You don’t have to look at Hoseok’s face to register first the subtle startle of his body going rigid and then the way his whole demeanour seemed to be clouded over, like a shadow had fallen over him and you. It was enough of an answer. Hoseok silently leads you back to your room, his soul feeling too heavy for his vessel as he recalled that awful memory. Has Jin confirmed it with you? Was he not able to?

“Is Jin okay?” he hears you mutter.

Hoseok only gives your shoulder a quick squeeze, not saying the words out loud: I don’t know.

***

No, Jin is not okay.

Namjoon catches a glimpse of him heading for one of the rooms where the liquor cabinet is. He doesn’t think much of it but a hunch made him get up from his seat and follow the older man. If only he knew what had transpired upstairs, maybe he would have quickened his steps because just as he enters the room, Jin is already holding a bottle of dark whiskey, the kind that people go for to numb pain you can’t physically see, the kind that painkillers don't work on.

Only slightly curious, Namjoon quietly sits in one of the armchairs, opening up his book and pretending to read. Jin carries the crystal bottle towards the sliding door that leads to the back of the house and after a five-second pause, opens the door and goes outside. He doesn’t even acknowledge Namjoon in the room with him and that should’ve been the biggest warning flag. He should’ve easily noticed that Namjoon’s book is upside down.

See, the thing about living for centuries together, you develop a bond unlike any other that when something bad happens to one or the other, you’d feel it deep in your bones. Dread that starts from your bone marrow and seeps into your bloodstream, slowly poisoning you until even your own saliva tastes bitter as you swallow. That’s what Namjoon is experiencing now as he watches Jin’s back among the tall reeds as he goes further and further away towards the tree line. He might be able to feel the darkness but it’s nothing that he can confirm to be of any consequence. That’s what Hoseok is feeling, too, as he shuts your door quietly behind him.

The foreboding impression that one of them is about to go into the deep end creeps down all six backs. It’s a familiar feeling, of course, one they learned to recognize easily now after much hard-learned lessons. Hoseok is in the middle of the staircase when Namjoon comes up to him, telling him what he already suspected. The question is, would he be able to reach the long forgotten waterfall?

Jimin and Jungkook argued that the pathway had been sealed, that it will be more than overgrown now. The waterfall itself would have disappeared, too, dried up as the environment changes. But Hoseok doesn’t want to hear logic or arguments; he wants to find Jin and bring him back.

“He won’t come back,” Yoongi had said matter-of-factly. “You know he won’t. Not until he’s faced with it.” He’s ignoring the fact that Jin might not be sober, having faith that the eldest had always been the reasonable one. Jin won’t do anything stupid. Right?

“There’s no reason to go back there,” replied Namjoon, somewhat annoyed. He’s been pacing the floor, tugging at his hair from the roots. “We could’ve talked things out. What is he thinking?!”

Jungkook stands up, unable to ignore the unsettling feeling in his stomach. “I’m going after him. Before he hurts himself.”

The others agree and start preparing themselves. The sun is still high in the sky and there will still be a few more hours left before it gets dark but flashlights were among the things they packed. Just in case. As they’re about to leave the house, Jimin suddenly has half a mind to ask for your whereabouts.

Hoseok answers, “She’s in her room, taking a nap.”

“No, she’s not.” They all look up to see Oliviera standing in the doorway with an annoyed look on her face. “She’s gone to take a walk. Left half an hour ago.” When they all stare back at her blankly, she scoffs, “It would be good if you start being more aware of your surroundings.”

They watch her walk away, mumbling under her breath. The six men exchange looks, mouth slacking open and the blood draining from their faces as they realise too late where you are going.

~~~

Death in itself is natural. A necessary thing to keep the cycle of life going.

It’s one thing to live multiple lives throughout the centuries because those lives don’t really blend together. They’re separate; separate people, separate stories, separate…me. But dying and being brought back to life is like having one foot through the door and it makes you somewhat wonder if all of you ever made it back to this side, or if a piece of you is lost forever. Gone through the abyss. The chasm. The other side, or whatever they call it.

I trudge through the grass, heading to where I last saw Jin. I heard the others talk about how to handle him, how to talk to him, but none of them mentioned going after him. Maybe they understood to give Jin the space he needed but to me, needing space doesn’t quite equal to walking into the forest alone, empty-handed except for a bottle of Macallan. Somehow I knew deep in my heart that it’s got everything to do with me and if I didn’t bring him back to the house then we’re all doomed. It’s a funny notion but it felt like the truth.

As I walk down the barely visible path, I keep thinking about having died by drowning. Neither Jin or Hoseok ever verbally confirmed if that happened but the look on their faces had been clear enough. Weirdly, it didn’t scare me but it does somehow, in a twisted way, explain my fear of water. It makes sense. A lot of people believe in incarnation and for traumas and scars of those lived lives to resurface in the current one is plausible. It aligns. Does it explain my fear of dark places, too? Or was that from a different life? I wouldn’t know until I know the circumstances of what had actually happened and the only one who can tell me that is the person I’m blindly following into the woods.

There used to be a waterfall somewhere in here, that much I heard from the boys’ conversation. If my hunch is correct (it feels more than a hunch, like a buzzing in my soul), then it’s exactly the place where it happened. But the deeper into the woods I go, the more the little path starts to fade out and then disappear altogether. I walk on a little more, stubborn from admitting that I am what I am: lost. Hopelessly lost in the woods.

I heave a sigh, rotating in a small circle, looking around the tall trees. I consider my options: one, go back to the house and face the consequence of my stupid actions in the form of six angry men that I had walked out without a word or two, keep going and get even more lost and perhaps just die out there in the woods alone, eaten by a wolf or a bear. Fuck, I didn’t even consider the wild animals that could be living here. The dread sinks in and suddenly my surroundings feel ten times scarier.

Hoseok is going to be so pissed. Jimin, too. The others would be disappointed that I worry them but those two won’t shy away from telling it how it is.

Wait a minute. Neither of them have ever been angry with me. Was that a previous memory thing again? I let out a frustrating groan, holding my head in between both hands. At times like this, it just feels like I’m living in someone else’s skin, pretending to be someone I’m not. Everything feels not enough and too much at the same time, like trying to recall something that’s sitting on the tip of your tongue but never being able to remember, feeling like I should remember because they are my thoughts, my memories. My life. And yet, they’re not. Not quite.

Something soft brushes against my leg and I jump up, yelping.

“Mreoww.”

“Karma!” I look at the cat in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

The cat’s twin tails swish vigorously, his eyes piercing mine. He walks ahead a few steps, tails sticking up straight in the air. He looks back once, eyes glinting with such knowledge it’s almost like I can hear him. Come. Follow me.

I watch Karma take a few more steps forward, stop and look back again. This time I got the message.

“Take me to Jin,” I say, following behind him, knowing that he’s already doing exactly just that.

~~~

Seokjin is walking blindly, the bottle of whiskey he carried with him earlier gone a long time ago, flung to the foot of some random tree but not before he finished the last drop.

He is very much drunk, swaying on his feet as the world tilts from side to side with every step. He feels hot and a little sick but it’s impressive how focused he is on reaching the destination he has set in his mind. Honestly, he didn’t mean to get this inebriated, that wasn’t his intention. He had only needed the dark fiery liquor as a means to not chicken out. It helped him give him the strength and courage he needed, albeit temporary. Now, he’s starting to regret going a little bit too far.

The others will be angry, he has no doubt about it. Imagine that; the most level-headed of them is now tumbling through the woods looking for a place he hasn’t been to for decades, half out of his mind, literally, just to…what? What exactly is the reason for him searching for that damned waterfall?

“Take me there, Jinnie,” you had pouted, stamping your feet a little like a kid. “I want to go for a swim, Jinnie. It’s perfect weather. Please, Jinnie.”

You had begged and whined and literally clung to him the whole week with that pretty pout on your face that Jin had more than once bent over to leave a peck or two, cheekily riling you on with a simple, “No, thank you” to your request before walking away. He blamed only himself for even speaking about the place a few weeks back when they had all talked about where to go now that summer was there.

It was during dinner and among the suggestions of going to the beach or the lake in the next town over, Jin had casually said, “Why not the waterfall in our own backyard?”

Obviously it was met with a lot of pushbacks. Namjoon and Yoongi are both convinced that it was too deep in the woods while Taehyung complained about mosquitoes. Jungkook mulled over the idea for a bit but Jimin reminded that it would be a hassle to lug all the picnic stuff through dense trees for miles. So it was agreed upon by the majority that it was not the best idea and it was dropped. Or so he thought.

You, on the other hand, had broached the idea again that night before bed as you laced your fingers through his. It took everything in Jin to keep a serious face, reiterating what Jimin had said about it being too difficult to carry things there. He tried to discourage you with mosquito bites and it being humid and hours of trekking until you finally relented. For the night, that was.

But Jin isn’t much of a strong soldier when you are the opponent; then, now or ever. He finally gave in a week later (a record time, actually) with a compromise that it would be a date, just for the two of you to minimise items to carry. A hike, just you and Jin. You had tried to get Yoongi to come along too but he had been too busy with the roof repair. It had been raining a lot the past couple of weeks but the huge thunderstorm yesterday was the final straw that threatened to cave the roof in and he couldn’t procrastinate any longer now that there was a leak in the master bedroom, lest he wanted a swimming pool in the ceiling.

So Jin had spent hours in the early morning meticulously preparing the food. He had woken up at five in the morning, hardly sleepy but a little excited, against his better judgement. He wasn’t a hiking kind of person, that was Namjoon and occasionally Hoseok if the place was right. Jungkook had come down a little after six, woken by the smell of food only to stare into space in the middle of the kitchen before Jin ushered him back to bed with the promise that there would be extra left for when he was actually fully awake.

You came bounding into the kitchen a little earlier than he expected and you both packed everything together into a little rucksack, an attempt to keep your loads light. You rationalised that you didn’t need to pack a change of clothes because you could both just come back when you’re done. The trek back home would dry you off plenty so no need for towels either. Only one rucksack of food and a flask of juice and a picnic mat. Some cutleries and napkins. That was all.

Jin could even still hear the promise you made to Yoongi as you left out the door, that you’ll both be back after lunchtime, that you’d help him with the roof after (Yoongi countering that no, that was not needed because he didn’t want you up on the roof with him, that Taehyung would be home to help instead so no worries, you can just enjoy yourselves). It was when he watched you wave goodbye to Yoongi that the heavy feeling crept in. But he didn’t know. He couldn’t have.

I took you here, he thinks now. It’s my fault. That stain on your soul, I put it there.

But going back to the place where it happened isn’t going to change anything but in the absence of sobriety, the logic eludes him. He’s not even sure why he’s heading there but he guesses that he just needs to see it. He hasn’t been there since it happened; neither of them had. They had tried to cover the pathway, blocking it from ever being accessed, but now, somehow, Jin’s feet are taking him there, oblivious to the tiny scratches along his calves and his arms, the stray branches nicking his neck and cheeks as he pushes through the growth.

~~~

Being a cat means that Karma is gracefully moving through the undergrowth, leaving me stumbling behind him, desperate to keep up and not getting poked in the eye with a branch or whatnot.

The grasses are getting taller and I’m getting more and more anxious of coming across a snake or worse, stepping on one. But Karma doesn’t even seem wary; odd for a cat but then again he was an outdoor adventurer before I brought him in. Is this wood familiar to him?

The stupidity of the reality of following a cat crosses my mind more than a few times because how do I even know where he’s taking me? Why am I so sure that he’s leading me to Jin? Jin could’ve turned back around and I wouldn’t even know it, leaving me alone with the dumb idea to think that a cat is taking me where I want to go. But an innate feeling tells me I should trust the cat which keeps looking back at me every few minutes with those blue-yellow orbs of his as if making sure my two clumsy feet, as opposed to his lithe four, are keeping up fine.

“Do you have to go so fast?” I ask exasperatedly after another branch whips into my face. Karma actually pauses, sits on a log and licks his front paw lazily. He gives me a judgemental look before turning around and bounding off. I roll my eyes.

My focus is solely on finding Jin, so much so that I completely forgot about the other six back at the house who are currently, unbeknown to me, facing another bigger problem.

~~~

Jin arrives.

Nostalgia is a mind trick because the place isn’t as pretty as the memory in his head, albeit the bitter experience. The waterfall had dried up and the pond beneath it was murky and overgrown with water plants that almost covered the surface of the dark, dirty water. Jin can’t even fathom bringing you here on a picnic date. The place looks more like the heavy feeling in Jin’s chest whenever he thinks about that day he pulled you out of the water than the small piece of heaven he and Namjoon had pridefully boasted the day they found it.

This place, like all of your past lives, had died.

Standing there, eyes glued to the middle of the dark pond, Jin is sucked into the memory he tries so hard to push to the back burner. He reasoned with himself every time that you were alright after all and everything was fine so he could let go, but the more he tries to forget, the guiltier he feels. It wasn’t just your heart that stopped beating for two minutes; his did, too. And it never beat right again after that, the rhythm wonky and jagged, at times like a bird in too small a cage.

That part of you that died in the water, is it still there? If he goes into the water, would he be able to retrieve the broken piece of your soul and make you a little bit more whole? Jin sighs heavily. He doesn’t think it would make much of a difference. Putting only a tiny fragment of something that broke in a million different ways won’t change a thing. There are just too many scars, too many traumas contained in that body of yours, with or without your knowing.

Out of all the things Jin wants, one of them is to heal you; to take away all your pain and suffering. If he could trade your soul with his, if he could bear all of your crosses, he would do it in a heartbeat. He knows damn well, too, that so will the others (he’ll never forget how Jungkook literally dove in front of a bullet for you, in one of those lives but that’s a story for another time).

With another deep sigh, Jin plops himself down on a horizontal rotting log, eyes never leaving the water surface. The sun is no longer above the treeline and the lighting seems muted. In the silence, he longs for you, wishing he could feel your arms around his shoulders and hear your voice telling him how stupid he’s being right now. His head is starting to pound and the world is swaying from side to side. His alcohol-soaked brain is starting to get the better of him because why is he seeing you climbing up the side of the waterfall again, grinning at him ear to ear.

He stands up, tilting a bit to one side and he feels like he might be sick. You scale to the top, waving at him happily. “Get down from there,” he tried to say but the words felt too heavy for his tongue to form properly. No. Not again. Please. If there’s a god out there, please not again.

Jin shuffles forward, tripping over his own feet, calling out to you. The sound of the waterfall is deafening in his ears and he tries his best to shout over the noise. He moves forward, shoes sinking into the water as he desperately wills his body to keep moving, to get to you before you jump. He’s too slow, body too big, too heavy. No. Stop. Don’t. Don’t jump.

But you do - into the water with a splash only in Jin’s head. Adrenaline surges and for a moment his vision clears a little bit and the world stops trying to upend him off his feet. He wades in the water, screaming your name. Something catches against his legs but with brute force, he wrenches himself free. Later, he’ll feel the burn but for now, all he can do is try and catch you when you fall. He can be ready this time. He can stop it from happening this time. He can save you this time.

With one last wave with a smile that outshines the sun, you jump. And Jin dives under the water after you.

A few feet behind him, standing on the log he had been sitting just minutes ago, you look in horror as Jin disappears into the water.

Back at the manor…

Oliviera stares open-mouthed at the six ghosts standing in the hallway, their pale faces mirroring hers.

Hoseok stares at his semi-translucent hands, feeling the icy cold fingers of dread creeping down his neck like someone had just doused him in cold water. Their backpacks had thumped straight to the floor loudly the moment their shoulders were no longer solid and Jimin thinks that fear is such an insignificant word to describe this sinking feeling in his stomach. His hands shake.

“What’s happening?” Jungkook asks, his voice sounding a lot more like the teenager they raised than the adult that he is, eyes wide and looking around.

Hoseok and Namjoon exchange looks but neither of them has an answer. Yoongi slumps to his knees, his legs feeling like jelly. His chest is tight and every breath is like claws dragging down the inside of his ribcage. He knows he’s right before the words even come out of his mouth: “Jin. It’s Jin.”

It takes all but zero point two seconds between when the words sink in and when they dash out the door, opting to go through it like the ghosts that they are and straight down towards the back of the house. But ghosts are bound to the places that they haunt and so Solomon’s Manor pulls them back, stopping them just before the ravine, a hundred feet or so away from the edge of the woods. So close, yet so far away.

Jungkook screams for his hyung, a voice that barely reaches the treeline and Jimin bursts into tears, fisting his shirt above where his heart is supposed to be because the pain there is excruciating. Yoongi stares forlornly into the distance, holding Taehyung by the waist as the other man’s face is buried in Yoongi’s shoulder. Hoseok’s fists lay helplessly by his sides but Namjoon doesn’t stop from trying to break away from the invisible force that keeps them bound to the house; a curse so old they’ve lived a thousand lives. He twists, he turns and he yells to the sky but all in vain. Solomon’s Manor keeps them from reaching Jin.

A thousand lives and yet nothing as bad as this ever happened. The threat of bad omens has always followed you, never them. Immortal beings have no qualms about the other side that it never crossed their minds that their own lives could ever be in danger. Death has only been associated with you, the cycle jumping your soul from one body to the next. It never occurred that it could happen to them when it has been aeons with no rest; the same souls residing in the same bodies as the century bled into the next.

“She’ll find him,” comes a voice, although shaky, from behind. Hoseok turns around to see Oliviera had followed them, wringing her hands together at her chest. Her face is pale as her eyes are set towards the wood. “She’ll bring him home.”

She must, Hoseok thinks, a thought that rings cohesive among all of them standing there.

You have to trust me, too.

Your words ring in his head. He stiffens his upper lip, but his hands remain fisted.

Above them, thick clouds roll in, dark as the future seems to be.

a/n: Look at that! Two updates in one year! Productive! Lmao

Next coming...someday

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a/n2: Some others are no longer using the same acc or username therefore I've removed them. If you see this and still would like to be on the taglist, do let me know. If you're not yet added but like to be also let me know. Cheers!

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iceprincessviviane · 1 year ago

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Chapter 1 - Surprise.

Heritage series.

Paring: poly!BTS x Female!Shy!Skinny!Chosen!Reader.

Type: dark romance, horror au, soulmate au, poly relationship, slowburn, yandere.

Warnings: Horror themes, some religion themes (mostly demonic), gore, blood, manipulation, witchcraft, magic themes, death (side characters), mentionings of forced marriage, mentioning about past, loss, yandere, obsessive, possessive, swearing, low self-esteem,dealing with grief, sugestive content and silly jokes created by me. (If there is more to add let me know.)

Previous chapter. Next chapter.

Summary: The life can be suprising. Sometimes it comes out with an sudden love, some struggling or you can inherit something from a very distant family.

Author's note: so we are beginning. This chapter will be a little longer, if it is going to get out of hand, I'll divide it. This is a made up story, fiction so please don't take some information seriously.

MINORS DNI

The small casket was standing peacefuly on coffee table, three pairs of eyes observing it carefuly. With it came a letter in neat envelope, with smell of lilacs.

"Are you going to open it?" The girl with black hair asked crushing the silence.

"I don't know... suddenly I get to know that I had distant living family."

"Well not family but a family member to be accurate." Third one said with a little frown.

Y/N and her friends - Blanca and Kate were staring at it around five minutes. The casket seemed like a item from another era. It was wooden with metal decorations and lock. The key was visible inside the envelope.

"You always stated that you like those old things, but now you are hesitant."

"Because it looks so unbelievable. First the letter with casket then call to the court in case of inheritance which I had never known from family which I had never met." Y/N said with little gruff.

"Isn't that your chance to have an adventure? Like the trip to another continent isn't a big of a challenge." Blanca said confidently.

Well maybe for her because in fact she was confident and sure aboit herself. Usually they were travelling in trio, but working on different fields made them seen each other less often. Last year they had wonderful trip to the Rome and before to Stambul.

Y/N bite a little lip, then reached for a casket and envelope. Her friend put head on her shoulders on each side. She opened first letter, as they could see the small key was there. There was a decorative paper, text was written by ink, person had a very old syle of writing, but Y/N liked it and even found some similarities.

Dear Y/N,

I'm sorry, that we are never going to met each other. I didn't know that I have even a distant family, as much as I know the officials from Grand Hillsam will contact you about the mansion. It's an old, neglected building which I was keep paying for because I had some family sentiment, not mentioning I was quite rich. Please keep this part of the pendant, that belonged to my grandmother, which was in our family for ages. I believe you have the second part. Let it protect you from bad things.

Aunt Lizzie

After reading letter aloud the silence has fallan upon them. Y/Ns eyes went immediately to casket. She picked up small key and opened it with small 'click'. Inside really was a pendant, small solar disk, currently below her sweater was a necklace with small cerscent moon.

"It' looks like separate part." Blanca frowned.

Y/N took them both and looked closely. It turned out the these could be combined and now the sunshines were going out of moon part, which was silver and sun was gold.

"It's beautiful." Kate summed up looking at it.

"I agree." Y/N admired completed piece, then put it on her neck.

"Did you talk with the boss? He'll allow you to go?"

"We kinda have no option. Luckily we've finished big project and I can do home office. I'll focus on daily tasks and small project, which don't need to a lot of communication with a team." She explained with little sigh.

"But where are you going to stay?"

"I received a call after submiting all files in court. I just need to pay for a flying ticket, then they'll pick me up from airport and drive to Grand Hillsam, there I am going to met all necessary officials." Y/N said furrowing her eyebrows.

"Are you sure you want to go alone? And besides that you are sure that'w not a scam?"

"Well the court checked all info for me and confirm it's all correct. The town is actually very nice to allowing me pay only for ticket. I will stay in the motel till the case will be solved. And well, I am kinda scared to go alone, but it's mine heritage and you are busy that time for first and second we don't know how it'll take, so I asked a boss for homeoffice."

"Well let's see at good points. You are going to see very old mansion and probably have time to wander around after work." Kate smiled trying to improve friend's mood.

"Thanks God it isn't winter. That season can be really harsh in those town." Y/N muttered.

"Oh yea you mentioned that it's kinda small town deep in the forest and mountains."

"That's right, I hope the net will be all right."

"Let's not worry too much. We'll help you pack and go to the airport, also you have to keep us updated." Blanca said pointing her finger at Y/N.

The trio smiled and conversation went on and on about the case, then about casual things. She wanted to leave in a week, so they wanted to spent all the time they could.

}*{

Jimin stopped in front of neglected garden, which was in left part of whole mansion field. The grass was too high and stone path was now cracked and dirty. Trees has grown too much, no flowers in sight and vines on all stone walls, and some untreated big bushes. He frowned looking at all those mess and his chest tightened. How long this place was abandoned? Once beautiful now dewastated? Jimin narrowed his eyes and the plants started to disappear, like the life was escaping from the ground, unwanted vines were dying, grass cut itself and few branches fell from the trees then perished into dust. Some flowerbed formed with each kind of flowers, bushes shaped into tidy hedge. Fountain without the water got cleaned from moss and vines, path was now neatly lead into it. Behind it and where the mansion final wall was protecting the garden from outside wild forest submerged the sun clock from the ground. Jimin was content with his work, now the place was more familiar, more welcoming. He eyed the garden once more, when his eyes suddenly shone with crimson colour, black rose appeard almost under the behind wall. Jimin smirked and transformed into nightingale, then left the garden in a hurry, his job there was done for now.

Next chapters will be longer 💖

#bts x reader #bts soulmate au #poly bts #supernatural #mystery #dark romance #yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #horror #demons #bts jin #bts yoongi #bts namjoon #bts hoseok #bts jimin #bts taehyung #bts jungkook #bts ff

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justimajin · 1 year ago

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House of the Haunted

Genre: Fluff & Comedy

↳ 3.5k / Supernatural AU (inspired from Hotel Transylvania)

[Includes: Vampire! Yoongi, Werewolf! Jungkook, Ghost! Namjoon, Demon! Jimin, Angel! Hoseok, Warlock! Taehyung, Faerie! Seokjin, Human! Reader]

Summary: It's Halloween and the Council of the Haunted have convened together for a very important and highly classified discussion - there's a *whispers* human on the premises.

A/N: I was originally going to post this for Halloween, but it unfortunately got a bit delayed. It's just meant to be a fun story for spooks and laughs. Happy (Belated) Halloween! 🎃

The front door creaks open.

The mansion is nothing short of grand, lined with expansive black marble floors and dark wooden walls. There are ebony crystals hanging down from the dimly lit chandelier, connected right above the old spiral staircase that’s decorated with small oil lamps. The wind ever so whistles against the grey murky windows, echoing through the emptiness of the haunting infrastructure.

Amongst the different doors next to the staircase, only one is brightly lit.

A tall man dressed in lavish purple robes shuffles forward, his eyes darting around. There’s a sudden change in the air, akin to a low draft he feels against his back that his keen senses pick up on right away.

“Taehyung.” A voice whispers into the night and he swivels, robes cascading around him as he does. “You came.”

His lips pull up into a cheeky smile, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

The transparent man before him gyrates around, his feet floating an inch off the ground.

“Follow me.”

Taehyung obliges, trailing after him.

“You know, Seokjin will be very pleased to see you too.”

Taehyung deeply chuckles, fingertips absent-mindly playing with the mist that radiates out of them. “I’m sure he will be.”

He’s led into a large dining room, the very one that is brightly lit. In the middle of it sits a long outstretched table that’s entirely covered with a black tablecloth and with candlelight decor. There are seven wooden chairs lining the table and accompanying, seven golden chalices.

It’s a room he’s become very familiar with over the course of the last couple of months. Namely, ever since one fateful day when he was granted a hand-crafted invitation with intricate writing and symbols. At the time, he truthfully wasn’t quite sure to expect, or rather, who to expect.

His answer came without another thought and it took the form of an old, but peculiarly cheery Faerie man – the very one seated at the head of the table and examining a chalice before him.

“Warlock Kim Taehyung has arrived.” The voice booms into the room, making Seokjin look up.

The Faerie man rises to his feet, addressing the transparent man.

“Thank you, Namjoon.” He nods in confirmation, before wafting back into the breeze and exiting the room.

Seokjin spins around with a big grin, “Taehyung!”

“You haven’t changed a bit.” Taehyung remarks, giving the man a swift hug. “Though, your way of sending invites has gotten really interesting.”

He twirls his fingers and a piece of paper emerges, landing in his hands. He envelopes it, eyes focused on the written words. “A call for all supernatural beings to meet, for the Council of the Haunted to convene once more for urgent matters–”

Taehyung snickers, “You write like you’re a hundred years old already.”

“I was trying to be formal!” Seokjin protests, irises glimmering with specks of pink.

Taehyung raises a playful brow, “A Faerie trying to be courteous? Now that’s funny.”

Seokjin shakes his head with a sigh, “Sit down, will you? I’m going to have more guests to tend to.”

Taehyung non-chantently hums, eyeing the wine in the centre of the table with intrigue. The former Faerie hears more footsteps, and he hurriedly leaves the room altogether.

Making his way to the front door, Seokjin is met with the sight of Namjoon surrounded by others.

“Well, well, who do we have here?” He piques, mischievousness brimming in his voice.

Two men appear before him – contrasting like day and night.

One of them has swept violet hair and dark ebony wings sticking out from his back. A dark red beam within his orbs and there’s a soft smile lingering on his lips. The other has a mop of brown hair and a pair of white wings. He holds a deep scowl, arms crossed and his blue eyes stern.

“Demon Park Jimin and Angel Jung Hoseok have arrived.” Namjoon announces from behind, appearing a bit frazzled from the duo’s sudden appearance.

“The Council of the Haunted, huh?” Hoseok remarks, “You haven’t called us here in ages.”

Jimin peers around, “The decor is really nice, did you remodel the place?”

Seokjin merely laughs, immediately engulfing the two into a hug. “It’s been a while, you two!”

Hoseok grumbles and Jimin giggles. “Come on in! Taehyung’s already here.”

He steps to the side, gesturing the two men forward. They enter the grand dining room with Namjoon’s assistance, taking spots at opposite sides of the table.

Seokjin comes up behind Namjoon. “That makes three – who are we missing now?”

“The vampire and werewolf.” Namjoon utters, grimacing a bit. “I was informed today was a full moon.”

“Of course it is.” Seokjin sighs, glancing at his present guests. “We’ll have to wait a bit longer.”

Taehyung raises his chalice of wine with a grin. “M’kay with me.”

“Wait, I have to sit here longer?” Hoseok recoils, “With him?”

Jimin sweetly smiles. “How interesting. I share the same sentiments.”

The Faerie narrows his eyes, “Taehyung, that wine is supposed to be for everybody.” He turns to his ghostly friend, whispering underneath his breath. “Namjoon, can you make sure those two don’t cause a brawl on my dining table?”

He immediately nods, effortlessly floating over to the table. Seokjin turns around with a huff, planting his hands against his waist.

At this point, anyone who will arrive will be considered late. He should have considered this, knowing that some of his members simply had the tendency to be forgetful and–

“Greetings.”

His heart nearly jumps out of his chest at the low voice behind him, wide pink orbs coming into contact with a red-eyed man with midnight hair and long incisors sticking outside of his teeth.

“Oh gosh–” Seokjin presses a hand against his heart, attempting to calm himself. “It’s just you, Yoongi.” He huffs, “For a moment, you had me scared there.”

The vampire looks at him impassibly, “Sorry about that.”

Seokjin shakes it off, “Don’t worry about it.” He stares at him intently, tilting his head to the side in amusement. “I didn’t think you would come. What changed your mind?”

Yoongi seems to hesitate for a split-second, before mumbling the words.

“You said there would be others here….I was curious.”

The corners of Seokjin’s mouth upturn and he watches as the vampire silently trails over to the dining table, carefully taking a seat amongst the table. He was really interesting – that was for sure.

Suddenly, a howl breaks through and echoes into the walls of his home. He swivels around, just in time to catch the faintest blur of caramel brown fur.

There’s an enormous wolf launching itself against him, practically pouncing onto the poor defenceless Faerie man before he has the chance to say anything.

“Okay, okay, I get it!” He scolds, pushing him away. “Jungkook, get off of me!”

The caramel brown wolf whines loudly, as if in utter protest. Seokjin deeply sighs, petting his head rather awkwardly.

“There! You happy now?”

The wolf seems to let out a pleased howl, before its paw hits against the marbled floor. Within a couple of seconds, its bones begin to crack and a young man with crinkled golden eyes and a huge bunny smile stares back at him.

“Hi hyung!” He chuckles and Seokjin grins lop-sidley, “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Thanks for coming, JK.” Seokjin turns to Namjoon, leading Jungkook in. “Everyone’s here!”

Jungkook brightens up, “Namjoon! It’s so nice seeing you again.”

The ghost man stares back at him wide-eyed as Jungkook loudly cackles, throwing his head back. Seokjin ends up pushing at his shoulders to get him to sit down in one of the chairs.

“Haha, veryy original.” He sarcastically retorts, moving to take his seat at the head of the table. Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook get seated on his right side, while Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi remain on the other.

He ushers for everyone to raise their chalices.

Seokjin clears his voice. “We have all gathered here today for a very important matter to discuss.”

Jungkook raises his hand, “Have you finally decided to remodel the meeting room to look less worse?”

He scoffs, “No.”

“Are you considering taking a step down and letting someone with purer intentions take over?” Hoseok remarks.

Seokjin sighs, “No.”

“Is this about the time I accidentally turned one of your workers into a goblin?” Taehyung ponders.

“What? No.”

“Is this when I forgot to turn your goblin back into your worker?”

“Tae, no–”

“Is this when the goblin wrecked havoc on–”

“Okay, then!” Seokjin loudly coughs underneath his breath, a bright smile plastering on his features. There’s a sudden build up of pressure into the room, as if a hazy wave had crossed over everyone’s mind.

His irises tinge with pink and the room is taken aback with a command, all members in his group visibly relaxing more than before.

“This is so cool.” Jimin whispers, specks of pink dwindling in his own eyes.

“Stop trying to toy with us and get to the point.” Hoseok barks, shaking his head with a huff.

Seokjin grins wickedly, “Now that I finally do have your attention, there is something urgent to discuss.” Taehyung raises his hand again, but Seokjin glares at him, causing him to lower it, “This matter is of utmost importance and I believe it will affect all of us sooner or later.”

Six sets of rounded eyes stare back at him.

He drops the ball, “I have discovered….a human in my home.”

A sharp, collective gasp echoes through the room.

Jimin and Hoseok glance at each other wide-eyed while Taehyung presses a hand against his chest. Jungkook stares back at Seokjin with doe eyes as Namjoon shrinks back and Yoongi takes a sip out of his chalice filled with wine.

“You should have started with that!” Taehyung protests.

“Well, maybe you all hadn’t been – Oh, I don’t know – interrupting me constantly, then I would have!” Seokjin exclaims.

“How could you let a human in here?!” Hoseok hisses, aware only the supernatural kind were granted permission.

“This is why I have gathered all of you here.” Seokjin speaks a bit softer, “I would like some opinions about the matter and to frankly, form my own.”

Namjoon floats forward, “We had discovered her a while ago wandering outside around the mansion. She seemed lost, as if she had nowhere to go.”

“And?” Hoseok raises a brow, “You thought letting her in here was a good idea?”

“I don’t think it's too bad.” Jimin objects, “They were just trying to help.”

“Help a human? Out of all people?!”

Taehyung bites his bottom lip, “What if...the human tries to kill us?”

“I wouldn’t take it that far.” Jimin reasons, “Humans aren’t too dangerous.”

Jungkook leans back in his chair, gold eyes flickering as if recalling a fond memory. “My girlfriend used to be human and tried killing me once.”

Hoseok deeply frowns, “That’s not something to be proud of, JK.”

He huffs, “We lived happily ever after, thank you very much.”

“Someone’s a hopeless romantic.” Taehyung chuckles underneath his breath and Jungkook sends him a glare.

“Well, I for one, don’t trust it.” Hoseok states, crossing his arms. “Humans should be monitored because of how fickle they can be.”

Jimin snorts as he sips his wine, “That’s a lot coming from you.”

Hoseok venomously glowers at him.

“You got something to say, demon?”

Jimin smiles wistfully. “I don’t know, it just seems like a lot coming from an angel that’s been notoriously involved with a female demon.”

Namjoon lets out an audible gasp. Jungkook’s doe eyes increase in size and Yoongi spins his head around. Taehyung leans forward with gleaming eyes and Seokjin leans back, taking a sip of his wine.

Hoseok blushes, flustered from all the sudden attention. “T-Then what about you, huh? Why don’t you tell everyone how fond you are of humans?!”

Taehyung revolves his head around, staring at Jimin with amusement now. Seokjin sips more of his wine, intrigued by the direction of the conversation.

“What can I say?” He cheekily smiles. “Humans are very kind and loving. I have no regrets.”

“Why you–”

“H-Hyung!” Jungkook looks at Yoongi in desperation. The poor werewolf is caught sitting next to the bickering angel and demon, their interactions almost making him feel like they very well arguing over his own two shoulders. “W-What do you think about all this?”

Yoongi leans forward, clearing his throat. “Humans can be very violent and destructive, if swayed in the wrong direction. However, they can be compassionate. It’s something can take decades, even years to be able to find the right one–”

“Not all of us wait for our significant others to be reincarnated, hyung.” Taehyung comments with a smile.

“T-That’s beautiful, hyung.” Jungkook whispers while sniffling.

Taehyung looks at Jimin with a grin, mouthing ‘hopeless romantic’. The demon loudly giggles, causing Jungkook to scoff.

“Hey, it is! Do you know how long it takes to find the one you love?” He proclaims, “They could literally be your best friend and you wouldn’t even realize it!”

“Okay, JK’s started to project. Anyone else?” Seokjin looks around the table, growing bored with the conversation.

His dancing pink eyes land on Taehyung. “How about you?”

“What about me?” Taehyung gulps the last of his wine.

“You have a human partner, no?”

Taehyung smiles amused. “Do I? Who knows?”

“Oh, stop being so secretive and mysterious.” Hoseok rolls his eyes.

“I’m a warlock, angel.” Taehyung snaps his fingers, mist sparkling around that Hoseok waves off with a disgusted look. “I don’t let out my secrets so easily.”

“Okay, so Taehyung’s still as hard-headed as ever.” Seokjin glances over at Namjoon, an unamused hand planted against his face. “Any progress?”

“Two members have vouched for the human and two are against,” He looks up with a frown, staring at Taehyung, “and I believe one is undecided…?”

“So it’s a tie.” Seokjin heaves, pressing a hand against his temples, “How am I ever going to make a decision?”

“What’s going on?”

The entire room plunges into an uncomfortable silence.

Everyone slowly turns to the entrance of the grand room, line of sight redirecting to the person attached to the quiet voice that echoes into the chamber.

Your eyes are as wide as ever, taking in the grand table and the chalices of wine in front of the seven interesting individuals. There’s a mix of different coloured eyes staring back at you, paired with intricate features like wolf ears, fangs, mist, and wings. Among them, a human-like man with pink orbs is the only one you recognize.

“Seokjin?” You wonder, “Are these your friends?”

“Y/N.” Although he smiles, it doesn’t completely reach his eyes. You wonder if you interrupted something, especially with how they all stare at you like you were supernatural.

Seokjin glances around, continuing to smile, “Something like that.”

“O-Oh, that’s nice. What were you guys talking about?”

You stare at the pink-eyed man, not noticing how the angel uncomfortably shifts, or how the demon smiles in your direction. You don’t notice the werewolf staring at you naively, or the intrigue the vampire holds. You especially don’t notice the warlock pushing his wine closer to himself, or the floating man that looks at you in wonder.

“Um…” Hoseok warily peers at Taehyung.

“Don’t mind me.” He swipes away at Hoseok’s drink with mist, causing Jimin to laugh.

“Hey!”

“Shhh.” Jungkook chides, accidentally letting out a howl in the process.

“Take mine.” Yoongi offers. “I prefer blood.”

“Y/N!” Seokjin chimes in, stern pink orbs locking onto his table of supernaturals who immediately pipe down. His arm wraps around your shoulder, a charming smile on his lips.

“How about you wait outside, hm? Things are a bit…unearthly here.”

“Oh…okay!” You chirp, “I don’t mind, I hope you have fun with your friends.”

Seokjin nods, smiling unmovingly. He quickly guides you outside, before looking over in Namjoon’s direction urgently, who floats over to your side.

The two of you leave the room and Seokjin continues to smile until the door shuts.

He spins around.

“Would you all calm down?!” He hisses, taking the wine out of Taehyung’s hands and instantly separating the members, “Didn’t I already tell you she’s human?”

“And?” Hoseok retaliates, “You’re the most human looking out of all of us!”

“Yeah!” Taehyung preaches, “You’re biased towards her.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes. “For your kind information, I’m actually half human which is why I don’t look completely like a Faerie!”

He gestures to his ears, which should have sharper pointed ends but take on a human-like appearance instead.

“Biased! I’m calling it!” Taehyung says again.

“Wait hyung, then why do you need our help?” Jungkook questions, “Wouldn’t it be easier for you to figure it out by yourself?”

“I needed opinions.” He states, crossing his arms. “Despite being half-human, it isn’t as easy making decisions regarding them.”

“Well, I think she’s nice. Doesn’t seem too harmful.” Jimin pitches in.

“Yeah, I wasn’t quaking in fear.” Hoseok retorts.

“She’s not a werewolf slayer, I’ll tell you that.” Jungkook states with uttermost seriousness.

Yoongi shrugs, “Don’t think she’ll reincarnate anytime soon either.”

“Can I turn her into a goblin?” Taehyung lets his intrusive thoughts out, but Seokjin frowns.

He regards all of them, “I appreciate the penny for your thoughts,” His voice deepens, sounding borderline threatening “–and Taehyung, no.”

He pouts and Seokjin sighs, standing at the front of the table once again.

“I have made my decision and it will be final – Y/N be allowed to stay in this home until we can recover where she came from.”

A low laugh escapes your lips.

“Is something wrong?” Namjoon wonders and you shake your head.

“Oh, it’s nothing. You just have a really interesting group of friends.”

“Ah, well, we are all quite interesting, aren’t we?” Namjoon chuckles, before fumbling. “Uh, n-not in a suspicious way, of course. In a more human-like way, with human lifespans and human way of livin–”

“You’re all supernaturals, right?”

Namjoon freezes.

“Y-You knew?”

“It was quite obvious from the start.” You laugh, “Also, I heard Seokjin mumbling something along the lines of getting the creatures of the night to gather together just like the good ol’ tales.”

Your laughter grows as Namjoon places a sheepish hand against his temples.

He sighs, “Well, you aren’t wrong about any of that.”

“And what about you?” He turns, only to be met with your curious gaze and warm smile.

He grows hyper aware, “W-What about me?”

“I could hear them talking earlier.” You explain, gaze not leaving him. “Are you like the others? Do you have a human counterpart too?”

Namjoon is taken aback, not quite expecting you to ask. But then his smile diminishes, hints of anguish filling his orbs.

“I used to, but she crossed over not too long ago.” He looks down at his hands, his transparency only becoming more evident by the minute. “I’m just a wandering ghost now.”

Your heart sinks. “Wandering?”

“Regrets.” Namjoon shuts his eyes, “I’m tethered to this world because of my last regret – which had to do with my dead wife.”

“Oh…” Your eyes soften. “I….I hope she’s in a better place.”

“She is.” Although remorseful, you notice the hope that fills his smile. It results in one lifting onto your own lips.

The doors before suddenly come bustling open, startling the two of you.

Seokjin emerges, brimming with confidence.

“There you are!” He boasts, “A final decision has been made!”

Namjoon looks at him eagerly, “Is she staying?”

“She is, but–” Seokjin waves a finger around. “As long as she follows the rules and… accepts our true identities.”

“Oh, I already know you’re supernaturals.” You profess, much to Seokjin’s utter shock.

“She knows?!” Hoseok’s voice pitches out from the table.

“Humans are smarter than you give them credit for.” Jimin snorts.

“Well, that’s my cue to go.” Taehyung snaps his fingers, vanishing into purple smoke.

“I-I guess that answered my concern.” Seokjin stutters, staring at you with a mix of surprise and horror.

“Thank you for letting me stay.” You warmly smile, glancing in Namjoon’s direction. “It’ll be nice getting to know all of you."

He smiles back and Seokjin nods, widening the door and allowing you to enter into the dining room.

“Supernaturals are a bit peculiar around humans.” Seokjin states, placing another chair at the table, “But hopefully you’ll fit in with time.”

You slip into it, taking the seat of the eighth member amongst the large table.

Leaning back into the chair, there are specks of pink dancing within your irises.

“Don’t worry.” You grin wickedly, “I think I’ll fit in just fine.”

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mxckiemxn · 6 months ago

Note

Hi I have an imagine request if you don't mind 🫰🏻

OK so it's gonna be a supernatural / shapeshifter au

-Reader and any member from hyung line are on a holiday- maybe in a forest cabin- or a wooden house in forest

And the Reader starts seeing weird stuffs like

1● seeing the same looking person as her boyfriend

2● feeling as if someone is around 24/7 since you guys reached there(but avoiding the feeling of it)

And add anything else you like to make it a little more spooky 👻

Thank you so much for your request! I honestly had so much fun writing it haha. I hope that you enjoy it, love! ~Mackie 💜

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Warnings: horror themes, swearing, smoking (cigarettes), mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 2,365

@rkive-joonie

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You giggled as you looked at the pictures you’d taken of your boyfriend as he drove. The first couple were normal, but once he realized what you were doing, he began making the weirdest faces possible. You two had taken the weekend off to go on a trip to a cabin for your anniversary. You were super excited to get some proper alone time with him. You both had such busy schedules that it made vacations like this nearly impossible.

“This is a good one.” You said through a laugh as you added one of the pictures to your favorite's album.

“I probably look crazy.” He joked; eyes still glued to the road.

“You are crazy, baby.” You told him, laughing harder as he rolled his eyes at you. “Hey, how much longer until we get there?” You asked.

“We’re about ten minutes away. I’m going to stop at the gas station really quickly.” He told you as he pulled into the parking lot.

Once parked, he stepped out of the car to start pumping gas. You sat in the car for a moment, admiring the clear view of the mountains before deciding to hop out and take some pictures. You smiled to yourself as you found the perfect angle and began snapping as many photos as you could.

There was a slight gap in between the trees, and you wanted to add it to your collection. So, you moved to the other side of the parking lot to get a better view of it. You began messing with the filters on your phone and aimed the camera towards the trees to see how they’d look. You froze for a moment, swearing that you could see someone walking in between the trees. You began zooming in a bit to see what they were doing. They stopped walking for a moment and stood eerily still as they kept their head facing forward.

“What the fuck?” You said to yourself as you attempted to zoom in more. From what you could see, they seemed to be wearing clothes that were almost identical to Yoongi’s.

You rolled your eyes as a car flew down the road, blocking your line of sight. Once they were gone, you brought your phone back up and zoomed in again. Chills ran down your spine as you realized that the person was now staring directly at you. You quickly shoved your phone back into your pocket and got back into the car.

“You ready?” You jumped as Yoongi’s low voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“Y-yeah let’s go.” You said through a shaky voice as you tried to calm your nerves.

“Are you ok? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He asked you sweetly as he placed a hand on top of yours, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I’m fine. I just saw someone standing in the woods.” You said between deep breaths.

“There may be hiking trails down there. I wouldn’t worry about it. Besides, it doesn’t look like anyone is there now.” He comforted.

“I know, but this person looked so weird. Their movements seemed so robotic in a way. Actually, they kind of looked like you.” You told him, finally meeting his gaze.

“So, you’re telling me that you saw my doppelgänger and he likes hiking?” He lightheartedly joked in an attempt to ease the tension.

“You’re so dumb.” You laughed as you playfully smacked his arm.

“Hey, at least I don’t get freaked out by seeing people exercise.” He joked, raising his hands in defense.

“Shut up-“ you said through a laugh. “Come on, let’s get going.”

You weren’t on the road for long before you finally reached the cabin. It was absolutely gorgeous and although its age showed, it just gave it more character. You sat your bags down on the floor as you admired the interior decor. You smiled as you felt two, strong arms wrap around your waist.

“It’s so peaceful here.” Yoongi whispered, as he placed a few kisses on your neck before burying his head.

“It’s perfect.” You told him, turning around to face him and connecting your lips with his.

“How about we check out the hot tub?” He suggested.

“That sounds amazing.” You said, giving him a gentle kiss before heading upstairs to change.

You placed your bags on the bed and began searching for your swimming suit. You began to remove your clothes, pausing for a bit and looking around the room. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched. The curtains were open, allowing some sunlight in which made you assume that’s where the feeling came from. You closed them and proceeded to change.

The cabin was completely secluded and surrounded by trees, so it was unlikely that anyone could see you. The nearest cabin was miles away and this isn’t a hiking area. After changing, you made your way back downstairs.

“Baby, could you grab a couple of glasses of wine before you come outside?” You asked Yoongi who was searching for his swim trunks.

“Yeah, I’ll be out there in a minute.” He told you.

As you made your way outside, you smiled at the sound of birds singing. You felt as if this trip would be perfect for you and Yoongi. You didn’t have much trouble in your relationship per se, but things had gotten hard recently. You barely had time to see each other, and when you did, it was often spent sleeping or silently watching movies as both of you were too exhausted to speak. You missed him, even though you still had him.

You slowly crawled into the hot tub, feeling your shoulders relax as you sank into the hot water and allowed your eyes to close. You let out a deep sigh as you felt two hands began massaging your shoulders. You didn’t hear Yoongi come outside so you assumed he wanted to sneak up on you.

“Are you going to get in?” You asked softly, letting out a small laugh when he didn’t respond.

You opened your eyes and turned around once you no longer felt his hands. Your heart sank to your stomach as you looked around, realizing that no one was there. You jumped as you heard the patio door open.

“Sorry I took so long. Namjoon called to make sure we made it.” Yoongi said as he made his way to you, carrying two glasses of wine.

You didn’t say anything. You just looked at him with wide eyes, trying to make sense of what just happened. You began glancing between him and the trees behind you.

“Were you not already out here?” You asked as he crawled into the tub and handed you your glass.

“No.” He stated, although it sounded like more of a question. He looked at you with concern written all over his face as he saw how anxious you were. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just…I just-“ you tried to speak but there was nothing you could say without sounding crazy. So, once again, you pushed the uneasy feeling away. “I’m fine. I think I’m just tired from the trip.” You finished.

“Well, come relax then.” He told you with an empathetic look as he extended his arms for you to join.

You rested your back against his chest, closing your eyes once more as he began playing with your hair.

“We should watch a scary movie tonight.” He suggested.

“You hate scary movies.” You laughed.

“Yeah, but you like them.” He stated simply, causing you to smile.

“I love you, baby.”

“I love you too, Y/N”

You two remained in the hot tub for a while, loving the way the hot water eased your sore muscles. Once you got out, you both went upstairs to take a shower before heading back down to the living room. You searched through movies on Netflix while Yoongi finished up dinner.

Once he was done, he brought you your food as he settled beside you on the couch, laughing a bit as he saw the title of the movie you picked.

“Cabin in the Woods?” He asked.

“Yeah, it feels fitting.” You responded as you started the movie and began eating.

Yoongi fell asleep towards the end of the movie, head laying on your shoulder as soft snores left his mouth. You smiled as you watched him, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead before gently lifting his head and placing it on the cushions. You got up and went outside through the patio door and lit a cigarette.

You leaned against the railings as you admired how clear the sky looked tonight. You turned your attention to the trees as you heard rustling. The sound caused you to stand up straight and squint your eyes as you tried to get a clearer view. You could’ve sworn that you saw something, but it wasn’t moving anymore.

You jumped as you saw a man peek his head out from behind the trees. It was the same man as before. The one who looked like Yoongi. You dropped your cigarette and ran inside, slamming the door shut and locking it before shutting the curtains.

The sound woke Yoongi up, causing him to run towards you.

“What happened?” He asked, placing his hands on your shoulders to steady you as you were shaking.

“There’s someone out there, Yoongi. You need to call the police.” You said, panicking, as you released yourself from his grip and began searching for your phone.

“What are you talking about?” He asked, following your every move as you ran around searching for the device.

“There’s fucking someone out there, Yoongi. And he fucking looks like you.” You faced him as tears began falling from your eyes.

“Baby, please breathe. You’re scaring me.” He said softly in an attempt to comfort you.

“I’m fucking scared, Yoongi. Fuck, it was the same guy I saw before, and he looks exactly like you. All this weird shit has been happening since we got here, and we need to leave.”

“What do you mean? What else has happened.” He asked, voice slightly raised. You didn’t need to fight, not right now. You pinched the bridge of your nose and began taking deep breaths.

“There was the guy in the woods, then I felt like someone was watching me when I was upstairs changing, and then I felt you massaging my shoulders outside only to find out that you’d been on the phone with Namjoon the whole goddamn time, Yoongi.” You told him, slightly screaming towards the end.

He stared at you in disbelief as he tried to make sense of everything you told him. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times as if he wanted to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked you in a hushed tone.

“Because I didn’t want you to think that I was crazy. I thought that I was just tired from the trip and that my mind was just playing tricks on me-“

“Y/N-“ he attempted to cut you off, but to no avail.

“You said that there were hiking trails so I brushed it off-“ you continued, hands moving around frantically as you began pacing back and forth.

“Y/N-“

“And I thought that I just felt like I was being watched because the bedroom curtains were open-“

“For fucks sake, Y/N! Listen to me!” He yelled, causing you to pause. Yoongi never yelled at you. No matter how angry or frustrated he was, he never yelled, and it took you by surprise.

“I saw something too.” He told you.

“W-what?” You asked, barely above a whisper.

“When I was on the phone with Namjoon, I looked out of the kitchen window and I thought that I saw you by the car. I didn’t think anything of it and assumed that you were just grabbing something, but I walked towards the patio, and you were already in the hot tub.” He told you with a look of guilt on his face.

“Baby, you should’ve told me.” You said, as you walked over to him and cupped his face gently.

“I know. I just didn’t want to ruin this trip. I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He whispered as tears began forming in his eyes.

“Don’t apologize. You didn’t know.” You comforted, as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“We need to call someone.” He reminded, warranting you to pull away, as you nodded in agreement.

You two began walking towards the living room, unsure if either of your phones had managed to slip between the cracks of the couch. You both paused and looked at each other as you heard a knock on the front door. You opened your mouth to speak, but you were quickly stopped by Yoongi as he put a finger to his lips, shushing you.

You both tiptoed to the door, careful not to make any sounds as you looked through the peephole. Your blood ran cold as you saw them. Two people who looked identical to both you and Yoongi. You wanted to back away. You wanted to stop looking, but you couldn’t. They knew you were in there and unbeknownst to you, they knew that you were looking right at them.

They both smiled eerily as they stared directly at the peephole with no sign of life visible within their eyes. Their faces began to warp and their limbs began contorting, and soon enough they no longer resembled you or Yoongi.

You backed away from the peephole, eyes wide and full of tears as you looked at Yoongi. You opened your mouth to speak, but came to a halt as they began banging on the door again, slightly knocking you back in the process. This time much louder and forceful. Yoongi pulled you behind him and began backing up. With each bang, the door pushed inward.

You frantically looked up at your boyfriend who was also crying but doing his best to maintain composure for you. His eyes met yours for a moment, and once they did, the loud thud of the door hitting the wooden floor echoed throughout the house. You both looked up, and within a second screams began filling the walls.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#bts #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #bts fic #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts imagine #bts au #yoongi x reader #bts horror au #bts supernatural au #yoongi au #yoongi imagine

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magini0 · 8 months ago

Text

Kimset (IV)

Pairing: ot6 x Jungkook | Jungkook x Everyone

Genre: Witch AU, Soulmate AU, Ex's to Lovers, Angst With a Happy Ending

Summary: Jungkook has until the next Witching Moon to develop a cure for his chronic illness. With his race against time, he really doesn’t have the nerve to be constantly pestered by his old coven mates—whom he had left behind after a mission gone wrong. Back as a famous healer and sponsored by a renowned magical society, Jungkook is ready to do what it takes to survive. Now, if only his former coven would back off and stop being so damn persistent in making up for their old mistakes…

Word Count: 13k

Also accessible on ao3 => Here Previous Chapter => Here Next Chapter => Coming Soon

There was a strange, nauseating race to Taehyung's heartbeat as he walked down the hall. His feet cascaded down the tiled floor; his loud footsteps echoed tauntingly throughout the empty corridor illuminated by the afternoon sun. The shadows cast the window's silhouettes against the floor. His palms were strangely sweaty, restless as he switched through a cycle of clenching and unclenching his hands before he'd fiddle with his clothes for the umpteenth time, trying to catch a glimpse of himself in the window's reflective surface as he walked, combing through his hair.

He followed the numbers on each door, trying to find the one that belonged to Jungkook. B013, right? He was nervous because, of course, he was. Their last conversation—if you could even call it that—had hardly even grazed the top of the iceberg that was their relationship. To be entirely fair, Taehyung strongly doubted that this conversation would go any differently. But unlike his hyungs, he just couldn't bring himself to give Jungkook space. He just couldn't.

Not when it's been literal years since he's spent more than a fleeting moment with Jungkook, not when he had yet to fully take him in. His hair had grown out, Taehyung recalled. The still black, natural hair was cut into a styled fringe. Hair a little longer, bangs stopping a little over his cheeks with a slight curl to the end swaying from the face. The sides of his hair were still styled, covering the tips of his ears. A row of piercings lined one of his ears, along with his brow and bottom lip. His chest puffed with a momentary sense of pride as he had noticed them during their last encounter, and reluctantly wandered back to a place where he watched Jungkook marvel through a jewelry shop's showcase window—lamenting the fact that his parents would never let him tarnish his image through body modifications.

Taehyung scoffed at the momentary reminder of Jungkook's atrocious set of parents. But there Jungkook had stood— his little bunny, sprouting piercing like it was no one's business. Because it wasn't, and Taehyung couldn't help but feel an assortment of pride and happiness that Jungkook had found that independence for himself.

Having Jungkook before him terminated any and all of his thoughts, rendering him to nothing but a blubbering stupored twat—while simultaneously promoting such a heaviness to take hold of him. The kind of short, fleeting questions one could sense in the pit of their stomachs—sinking. What had Jungkook been like during his first piercing?

Taehyung recalled in that vague moment by the jewelry shop window how he had promised Jungkook that when the witch turned eighteen, he'd sneak him out to get his ears pierced. A fleeting smile twitched across his face as he walked, his hand lifting to subconsciously brush against his earlobe. About a month after making that promise, Teahyung had snuck out of the academy and purchased a set of earrings, small silver stars hanging from a delicate chain, and a little clear glass diamond in the star's centers. It hadn't been much, and usually Taehyung wasn't such a fan of something so delicate. But his bun was discovering stargazing with Yoongi at the time—something that had totally not made him jealous—and seemed to be enjoying it. Taehyung had blown most, if not all, of his summer wages on that set.

Because Jungkook getting his ears pierced had been so much more than just getting to buy some new jewelry. It was more than just an act of spontaneous defiance. It was a call for independence, a step towards individuality that Jungkook's parents refused to permit otherwise. Taehyung had understood that—he still does.

Taehyung glanced outside, but his gaze was unfocused—did Jungkook need to hold someone's hand? Did his face scrunch up the way it always does, eyes squeezed shut, and nose crunched in that adorable way? Taehyung had missed it. That moment he had reserved for them—he had missed it all. The sense of loss that realization accompanied was unbearable.

He couldn't help but wonder if Jungkook ever got those tattoos he had wanted, too. Of course, he wouldn't go on and ask something so personal. His bun might literally shank him for it.

But he still felt unsettled and frustrated by their last meeting. He had wanted to say more, but just being able to see Jungkook again—before him, living, breathing, alive; vaporized any and every thought of his because Jungkook was finally there—he was okay.

Jungkook had been angry— rightly fucking so, he might add. Emotional, frustrated, hurt. It killed him. Their eyes had locked, and suddenly he was speechless. There stood his baby, his stupid, naive bunny—crying, and he wasn't able to do anything about it.

Ultimately, he was one of the six reasons those eyes were shedding tears in the first place. In that moment, it didn't matter how long Taehyung had prowled the streets of Korea looking for those same pair of eyes, how he scanned over the crowds to try and recognize that familiar head of tussled, unkempt hair, because Jungkook was there, crying because of him.

Walking further down the hall, Taehyung didn't expect this conversation to go any better. Realistically, he was just psyching himself up to be yelled at, berated, and metaphorically thrown around as Jungkook vented six years of hate onto him. But Taehyung didn't mind because it was Jungkook's voice doing it. He didn't mind those heated, fiery gazes because it was Jungkook's chocolate eyes pointing them.

Because even for a moment—he got to exist in the same space as Jungkook.

And maybe, just maybe, after Jungkook got to say everything he needed or wanted to, Taehyung would be able to say he was sorry. He was really starting to hate that word—sorry. as if the depths of his remorse, the sheer level of guilt, regret, and sorrow could ever be narrowed down to five abysmal letters.

Because he was so much more than just sorry. He cursed every day that had passed for the last six years—2,190 damned days, give or take a few. He hexed every watery blink, the haunting quiver of his sweet voice, the balling of his fist and shaking of his hand. For every minute, Jungkook was out there, thinking for even a second he hadn't been out there looking for him.

Gaze following the labels against each the door, he felt the numbers nearing Jungkooks. The door was slightly ajar, and through it, Taehyung could hear the familiar voice of his soulmate.

"But we fell in love."

"Despite all odds—fuck, we grew to love each other above all else."

"So—"

"So when three of our parents demanded a trial."

"We agreed."

"Because—"

"Because we thought we'd be proving them wrong."

"We lost everything."

"Or, at least—I had lost everything."

Taehyung wasn't much of a crier—that was Jimin's job, and by the Gods, he hated those tears, too. So why—Why were his eyes suddenly so watery? The hair around him felt heavy, cold, and stale.

He had half a mind to burst into the laboratory, stand before Jungkook, and proclaim that he was still here. That Jungkook still had him and that he was so, so fucking sorry. That there wouldn't be a day that would pass now where he wouldn't be there to hold his hand. Because Taehyung loved him.

He hasn't stopped. The abrasive, explosive anger within a single night could never diminish even an ounce of the care he held for Jungkook. Because when they had first met, before it was him and Jimin, or Hoseok or Yoongi or Jin and Namjoon— it had been Jungkook. Despite having cared for all of them, Taehyung loved him first.

He still does.

But what should he say—now? When your soulmate stands before you, tone filled with such grief and desolation at the sheer recollection of you, of what you had and what you were.

Taehyung didn't consider himself a coward—no, he was a true hothead who felt first and thought second. So he had practiced his confessions with Jimin, over and over, deep into the starry nights and bear ceilings. But his tongue felt heavy, and suddenly, all the words he had prepped felt inadequate.

Taehyung had never been good with words. He couldn't string together poetic confessions like Namjoon or Jimin, lay out his soul like Hoseok, or make himself as clear and vulnerable as Jin and Yoongi. He was just well—unsure. He chose to act; when someone bothered Jungkook, he'd bash the perpetrator's head against a locker. If the headmaster went off again, he'd put a hex on the seams of his clothes.

Jungkook deserved more than that. Not someone who immediately set out on a tyrannical war path, promising vengeance for every tear spilled because his baby bunny was upset and someone was paying for it. He deserved someone who didn't become completely overwhelmed with fury the moment he shed a tear, someone who would do more than just stand still with his head bowed low while being scolded. No, it had been six cursed years. Taehyung was going to show that he had changed, that he could—and would find the right words for him. He might not be as flowery or delicate—but they'd be his.

"How'd it go?"

Jimin hurriedly asked before Taehyung even managed to close the front door. Taehyung, still feeling like a brooding cloud had formed over him, didn't utter a word as he meticulously took off his coat. He dusted it off despite only having walked to and from the science building before hanging it up. He stepped out of his shoes and put them neatly on the shoe rack, sliding into his slippers shortly after—to put it concisely, he was stalling.

Jimin frowned. It didn't take a genius to decipher the pensive mood looming through Taehyung's aura. Jimin would've gone with Taehyung to hopefully talk with Jungkook, but not only did the witch ignore his little note on the breakfast tray from earlier this week, but it also would have overwhelmed Jungkook. Neither of them wanted that—they just wanted to talk, to see him.

Taehyung had finally looked up, eyes locking briefly with his own. His own breath caught briefly stuck in his throat at the pitiful sight. Taehyung's hair was disheveled, no doubt from his fidgety hands constantly combing through it. The rim of his eyes were a bit bloodshot, and trailing down his gaze to Taehyung's cheeks they appeared just a bit too red. Jimin bit the inside of his cheek, a poor attempt to keep his scolding at bay. He knew Taehyung handled his emotions differently and that whenever the witch was ever brought to tears, he'd wipe them away with such incredulous vigor till his cheeks turned raw.

The sight was strikingly familiar. It barely felt like any time at all since Taehyung appeared like that in front of his door. Gods—it had been so late into the night that it became early. But Taehyung hadn't stopped; hadn't slept either— none of them had. The witch's cheeks had been sunken in ever so slightly, and the darkness underneath his eyes had completely altered Taehyung's otherwise healthy complexion. Taehyung had been out looking for Jungkook again.

Jimin might never forget that night when he opened his door for Taehyung. How, during that night since Jungkook's disappearance, Taehyung had cried. Cried—a loose term for what had happened. Sobbed seemed more appropriate, the type that made one's legs feel weak, made it hard to breathe, and left you with a sore throat. It was the sound of someone losing hope.

Taehyung never stopped looking—none of them had. But after the first few months, Taehyung's near-daily outings turned more sporadic. But they still visited Hangawoondae annually, still holding onto the fickle hope of spotting their bunny window shopping again.

"Let's go talk in my room, hm?" Jimin suggested, carefully reaching out and taking a hold of Taehyung's cold hand. Walking past the living room still felt surreal to him, seeing Hoseok lounging while switching through the channels playing across the TV, elbow resting on the armrest and cheek squished against the palm of his propped-up hand. Jin was moving about in the kitchen, preparing a honey pastry with a ruminating look. The sweet dessert had been Jungkook's favorite, a fact that had gone unnoticed by no one.

Nothing had been the same since Jungkook left. Being able to see some of his old hyungs and share a communal space with them again felt strange. He had missed it.

Walking past the open space and down the hall, he ignored the twisting pang of emotion he felt by passing Jungkook's closed door. Whether Jungkook was there or not, that pale white door remained closed. He couldn't really blame him, especially after their last confrontation—Jimin understood.

Gently nudging Taehyung into his (their) room, he gently closed the door.

The enchantment wasn't necessarily very noticeable, the spells back boning loosely marked onto the inside of the doorframe. But walking through the door, a lingering sense of magic brushed against one's skin for a moment—not by much, but enough for anyone to be aware that the room they were entering was very much manipulated by an outside force.

Gone was the dreary interior of a basic apartment bedroom, replaced by something more to Jimin's tastes, to his needs. The space was larger, with a wide circular window casting nearly the entirety of the room in natural light. Creams and soft colors scattered about, from blankets to pillows, frames, and wardrobes. A queen-sized bed covered in far too many throws and pillows. There wasn't a color out of place; everything followed a similar pallet. It would've looked stale if it weren't for Jimin's artistic eye, dotting little spots of complementary colors here and there, the occasional green plant from Namjoon giving the space a little liveliness.

A picture frame of him and Taehyung rested on his bedside table, and a group photo of everyone during their third Solar dance in the academy hung against the wall.

Jimin was aware of his contribution to their split. He had been so scared, hurt, frightened, and angry at the time. He had his reasons during that night; the time he spent in the Deep with the others was too long. The mission had been immoral from the start—who would do that to a bunch of teenagers?

But still, he had never managed to actually get rid of any of their shared photos. He still had their old photo albums hiding underneath his bed; the one hanging against the wall was simply his favorite. Glancing at it now, their naive and smiling faces. His eyes lingered against Jungkook's young form; they had been holding hands. Jimin— Jimin couldn't bear to look at it.

Yeontan was snoozing in his little dog bed, the hyper dog oblivious to the occurring drama. Hana, Jimin's white snake familiar, remained sunbathing by the window sill. Her sharp, snake-like eyes opened as the two witches entered the room. She remained silent, but she didn't need to say much to show her disapproval.

Taehyung plopped himself down at the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his thighs while he dropped his head in his hands. Seeing Taehyung so depleted unsettled Jimin to the core, his pace slightly hurried as he sat down beside him.

"It didn't go well, huh?" Jimin hummed, beginning to rub gently at Taehyungs hunched over back. There was a silence that followed, a pause as Taehyung breathed, focusing solely on the rhythmic pattern of Jimin's soothing hand.

"It didn't go at all," Taehyung muttered, voice hoarse.

Ah.

Jimin sighed, shoulders dropping as the little flicker of hope he had built dimmed. Taehyung had cried, when exactly he wasn't sure, most likely on the way back to the apartments.

"Hyung…" Taehyung strained, the small plea halting Jimin's actions and line of thought at the sheer—grief? That Taehyung's tone carried. It broke his heart more than it already was.

"Oh, oh honey, come here." He ushered, pulling Taehyung into his arms. A tight hold, reassuring in the sense of telling Taehyung that he was there, that I'd be okay, and that he's got him. So Taehyung fell. Small sounds, muffled by the wool of his sweater, soon became louder. More unkempt, earnest.

"Hyung—hyung… he, he sounded—" Taehyung choked and sniffled as he tried pulling himself together. "He sounded so sad."

Jimin shut his eyes, inhaling sharply. None of them had been spared from Jungkook's distraught gaze, from the disappointment and anguish encapsulated within those familiar eyes. They had deserved it. That much was clear, but still. Seeing it, hearing it, Jimin had wanted to drop to his knees. Bind his soul—more than it was already bound—to Jungkook and his own lifelong pursuit towards redemption.

"Like—like the thought of us was something to grieve over." Taehyung's wavering voice cracked, prompting Jimin's own eyes to begin watering.

Because that was his bunny, they were talking about. His companion from day one was that sweet, shy, silly mess he had bumped into in elementary school. The boy with the kindest eyes and most amazing abilities, his little prince, "Eomma says I can't be friends with nulls, Minie." How Jungkook never became like his parents was a true wonder, but he didn't. Not when they snuck off campus during recess or when they took turns pushing each other on the swings. Jungkook had always had a heart of gold, even when he was scared and riddled with insecurities; "Jungkookie, see this red string here? It means we'll be friends forever, forever and ever! Nothin' will change that, my eomma says we're lucky. So let's be lucky, k'ay? It's our lucky ribbon."

Glancing down at his pinky, Jimin lingers on the five vibrant, red knots around his finger. The sixth, pale and washed out, only remained visible for a few inches before fading out into the air. But Jimin knows it’s still there—now more than ever.

"We—we have to fix this hyung."

Jimin nodded, gaze fixed and determined as he cupped Taehyung's cheeks. Using his thumbs to gently swipe away the offending tears, he looked into the scared eyes of his lover. The past week had been an utter cluster-fuck of emotions, a cruel combination of pure elation, utter grief, and guilt, and now fear. Because what if Jungkook never forgave them? It was possible. Despite how the singular thought tore at his heart, it was reasonable, too.

They could lose him again.

No.

No, Jimin wouldn't let that happen. He couldn't. Jungkook might never love them again, might never trust nor care for them. But he'd be there. In Jimin's life, in Taehyungs.

"We will."

Taehyung looked into his eyes, all too vulnerable and teary. Looking towards him for guidance, and Jimin felt all too misplaced. This was Namjoon's job, or Jin's, maybe even Hoseok's, when the situation called for it. They were all too adept at taking control, leading. But for tonight, he'd take Taehyung's hand and hopefully lead him towards a brighter future.

"We found each other again. That's all we need." He mused, voice hushed and soft as he leaned down and pressed a kiss against Taehyung's furrowed brow.

"We'll have forever to get it right."

Jungkook tucked his hands into his pockets as he walked, the warm coat doing little to keep the chill away. Mornings were always chilly around this time of year, just as autumn began to creep around. Jungkook couldn't really tell when his body was being affected by the outside temperatures anymore, considering how his limbs were gradually growing colder each week; breezes like these didn't really bother him anymore. A loud, exaggerated yawn pulled him from his thoughts. Glancing to his side, he smiled at Yugyeom's bundled-up form. A thick, knitted scarf hung around his neck, chin nestled securely in the warm material. The witch had never been much of a morning person—neither was he honestly, but nowadays he couldn't get more than five hours of consecutive sleep.

Originally, Jungkook intended to stop by for only a day, fix his Halmoni up, and hop onto the next available train. But having Yugyeom here somewhat derailed his original, concise plan. With Yugyeom by his side, he couldn't help but want to show his friend everything he'd been up to and what he'd built for himself since leaving. Perhaps he was a little biased towards Jung-so, considering how the little witch had somehow nestled itself into his heart during their sessions.

Iseul had stopped by the bookstore this morning, only there to briefly return a book she had borrowed. They didn't usually rent out books, but Chae-won had as much of a bleeding heart as he did, trying to support Iseul and Jung-so as much as she could. Which is how Jungkook ended up offering another tutoring session. Considering that it was a weekend and wouldn't conflict with the kids' schedule, Iseul readily agreed.

"Since when do you like tutoring so much?"

Yugyeom's voice had cut through the comfortable silence, tone a little fussy from being wrangled out of bed before ten.

Shrugging, Jungkook tried recounting exactly when he had grown to like teaching so much. He had grown up with all kinds of tutors; attending a school was mainly used by his parents as a form of socialization, a little something required by law, a hassle. If the teachings could be affordable by mainstream magicals, then they simply weren't good enough for his parents. Resulting in his rigorous schedule of six hours of public schooling only to come back home to be tutored privately; he only ever saw his parents for mealtimes.

A blessing, really.

Jungkooks upbringing was rigorous, strict, disciplined, and—well, lonely.

Amongst missed birthdays and solitary dinners, Jungkook could account for two people who made his otherwise desolate childhood bearable. Jimin, a bundle of confident sunshine he met in elementary school, and Soo Choi. A middle-aged witch who began tutoring Jungkook long before he presented, before he could even materialize his mana enough to actually do something. But where his parents lacked, shrouded in the depths of their prejudice, there was the kindness of Soo Choi. A person Jungkook deems responsible for preventing him from becoming a replica of his parents, teaching him about magicals with an openness he hadn't found or seen before.

Jungkook found himself wanting to be, in the presence of Jung-so and other uneducated children, someone that Soo Choi had been to him. A place of education, unbiasedness, and kindness. A person who taught magic, who could make all things mana, spells, and changes less scary, more natural.

Letting out a small hum, he glanced at Yugyeom. "Probably because of Mrs. Choi."

Nodding, Yugyeom smiled. It was a fond smile, followed by a warm gaze Jungkook couldn't stand to look at for longer than needed. Yugyeom chuckled, cheeky bastard, clearly amused with Jungkook's flusteredness.

"What?" Jungkook muttered, not enjoying the giggling at his expense.

"Oh nothin.'" Yugyeom snickered, the witch still clearly amused. "Although I'd love to see you teach, I don't really get why I'm here. You know how I did back in school."

Jungkook nodded. Yugyeom had never been someone who let others or work stress him out. Jungkook still couldn't get over how Yugyeom had actually managed to pass their history class; considering how often he slept during those times, must've been witchcraft—considering it now, it probably was.

"Remember Jung-so, the kid I told you about?" Yugyeom nodded, recalling one of their first catch-up sessions in the lab during inquiry day.

"Well, he's the kid I'm tutoring now. He just recently presented as a witch, and his mom Isuel isn't a magical. The Dads out of the picture, and you know I can't perform magic. I was hoping you could show off a little, being able to see someone manifest some mana, meet someone who was a gifted witch too, might help ease Jung-so into things a little better." Jungkook explained, looking ahead as he watched the little cafe come into view. Cars passed them on the street, the clouded sky making the surroundings appear dull.

Jungkook might not be able to relate personally to the struggles of gifted witches, but he was aware that they existed. Young children overwhelmed with their new abilities, uncertain how to proceed and finding the concept of magic unnerving. Jung-so was like that, a gifted witch originating from a mundane household. Unsure what being a witch meant, what that made him.

Jimin had been like Jung-so.

And he had helped him back then, too.

"God, you're such a softy." Yugyeom huffed, smile fond as he playfully nudged Jungkook's arm as they walked.

The cafe carried its usual warmth, a welcomed contrast to the otherwise freshness of the morning. Jungkook had only been away for about two weeks now, but seeing the familiar, cream-toned walls made him feel a little nostalgic. Jungkook could never recall a single day when the cafe wasn't filled, couples laughing, the occasional office worker chatting on the phone, the consistent calling of names. Despite the sheer number of customers, the place never felt rushed or hectic, something Jungkook ought to give the staff the most credit for.

"Jungkook! I was beginning to think you switched cafes on us!" Han chuckled, making him flush a little. He hadn't come here that often, only every other day—and for tutoring, of course. Yugyeom, as if sensing his embarrassment, elbows him in the arm with a chuckle.

"Hi Han, I actually left for my seventh trial, I'm only here to visit my Halmoni." Jungkook explained, receiving a simple nod from the barista. "I could've sworn I saw little Jung-so in the back; two hot chocolates then?" Han mused, but before Jungkook could agree, Yugyeom budged in.

"And a coffee, please!"

Han wrote down the order while he paid, Yugyeom waiting by the counter as Jungkook went to greet Jung-so. The thought of the little kid being on his own for too long unnerved him, even though he trusted the cafe—and Han, who always kept a watchful eye over the kid—he didn't exactly trust others.

Jung-so was sitting in one of the corner booths, slightly hunched over a book as he waited. Legs kicking out idly underneath him, he was the restless sort. But he wasn't crying this time, so Jungkook considered that a win.

"Hey, kiddo, miss me?" He mused, prompting Jung-so to look up. The kid smiled, all crescent-eyed and flashing dimples, completely unaware of how it tugged on his heartstrings. Jungkook didn't expect it, nor did he expect the boy to hurriedly hop out of the booth and crush him in a hug, small arms wrapped around his waist and head nuzzled into his lower stomach.

Chuckling, Jungkook crouched down and pulled the boy into his arms before picking him up and spinning them in a short circle. It strained his already sore arms, but Jung-so was laughing, and that's all he needed. Lowering him back down, he couldn't really suppress his own smile. "You make it seem like I was gone for forever," he teased before ruffling Jung-so's already messy hair.

"You were." Jung-so huffed, sliding back into the booth. Jungkook followed, sliding in beside the boy. It was their usual spot, formed in a little semi-circle against one of the cafe's corners.

"God, you two even look alike. Jungkook-ah, you sure your dad isn't keeping a secret from you?" Yugyeom chimed in, holding three drinks in a little carrier carton as he walked over and set it down. Glancing at the labels, he distributed the drinks accordingly. Jung-so shied away a little, glancing at Jungkook apprehensively.

Jungkook laughed at the joke, rolling his eyes at the thought. He wouldn't mind it, having a brother and all. But Jung-so and he had already formed that kind of bond; they didn't need to be blood-related. “Jung-so, this is Yugyeom. He's a good friend of mine!"

Yugyeom bent down so he was at eye level with the kid, holding out his hand and shaking it eagerly when Jung-so held out for a hand-shake. "Good to finally meet you, little man! I'm Jungkook's friend—well, more like his bestie. Now, someone's told me you presented as a witch. How exciting!"

Jung-so nodded, a little more shyly but less reserved than before. Jungkook smiled, ushering them back to sit at the booth. He nudged the hot chocolate towards the kid, smiling at the polite thank you he got in return.

"Jung-so, I brought Yugyeom here because he's a witch too." Jungkook explained, watching the kid's face light up. That was good, really good, actually. It was important for him to help Jung-so develop a good relationship with all things pertaining to magic and witches; it's a community that he could fall back on in the future.

"Mhm, I sure am!" Yugyeom mused, smiling gently.

One of the things Jungkook always admired about Yugyeom was how quickly the witch adapted to different people. This wasn't necessarily surprising, considering that Yugyeom was an empath.

"I’m also a gifted witch!"

Jung-so nodded, staring at Yugyeom for a second, then two, then three before turning to Jungkook:

"Whats a gifted witch?" He asked.

Jungkook chuckled, watching Yugyeom blink a little as he recovered.

"Well, magicals are categorized into two parties. For witches, it's between gifted and born witches. So, if both your parents are witches and you exhibit magical traits you're a born witch." He explained, before pointing to himself. "Take me as an example, I'm a born witch. I come from a long line of powerful witches."

He paused, waiting for Jung-so to nod before continuing. "Gifted witches—" he continued, pointing at Yugyeom. "Like Yugyeom over here, are like you. Who don't necessarily have witching parents or grandparents. Sometimes, your great-great-great grandma was a witch and was able to harvest mana. Just enough to collect traces but not enough to use it. If she had mana, then her kid would likely inherit some too but remain dormant." Jungkook explained, grabbing a pen and paper and jotting down a simple family tree while he talked.

"If there isn't enough mana in the body, it'll remain dormant. So it can easily pass through generations unnoticed, but it'll eventually accumulate and present itself through another generation."

"Like me?" Jung-so mumbled.

Jungkook nodded, "Mhm, like you and Yugyeom. Somewhere down the line, which can span across centuries. One of your ancestors began accumulating mana."

"I know it can be a little startling, suddenly finding out you're a witch and all. Trust me, kiddo, I've been there." Yugyeom reassured, smiling kindly. Jung-so nodded, although it was obvious he still felt unsure.

"Wanna see a magic trick?" Yugyeom piped up, no doubt sensing the slight dread through Jung-so's aura. He grabbed his cup of coffee, peeling back the lid and watching the steam rise through the air. Yugyeom kept focus, beginning to slightly twirl his index finger. Suddenly, through the cloud of steam, two silhouettes emerged. Dancing a small waltz around the cup, going higher and further into the air.

Jungkook watched, smile crooked and unrefined as Jung-so's eyes widened with a natural curiosity.

"What's important," he began, sipping at his own drink. Is that you remember that magic is only scary if you don't understand it—I know it's hard too. I mean, we witches carry extraordinary talents. To the untrained eye, that can be frightening."

Slowly, as the steam began fading into the air, the two dancing silhouettes followed. It was a pretty trick; Jungkook had to give Yugyeom that. Although it looked fairly simple, it wasn't necessarily easy. They had both learned how to manipulate matter during their third year. Solids were much easier to mold than gas, especially when it came to such refined forms as a couple dancing, a realistic waltz at that.

"But gifted witches are called gifted because—well, that's just it. Magic is a gift, something special." Jungkook smiled, gently patting Jung-so on the head. He wondered vaguely what kind of witch he was himself. Without magic, it was hard to carry the title without carrying what made him that. For the first time since cutting off his own mana, for sacrificing his own gift in exchange for a little more time. Did he feel like he had actually lost something.

It was all just survival back then. He was competent enough not to need magic on a day-to-day basis. But seeing Yugyeom, the flying books within Veil's library, the familiars, the conscious shears and watering cans in the gardens, the constellations he'd cast onto his ceilings—it was all gone. Jungkook had given it all up. All for the sake of a few more days, months; he wasn't really sure.

Seeing Jung-so discover the wonders of magic and how pretty it could really be, he wanted the kid to love it, to adore the craft as much as he did. He hoped that if all else failed and he truly did pass away, he'd be remembered for everything he loved because there was so much he cherished about this world.

But he still had time. Eleven more months, that's all he needed.

"Hyung, I thought witches weren't allowed to perform in public?"

Yugyeom began cackling, slapping his knee as Jungkook glared at him. "Oh hun, trust me. That's technically true, but you won't find a single person actually adhering to that rule!" This time, Jungkook reached over and nudged Yugyeom's arm.

"Yah! You're giving the kid bad ideas—Jung-so, don't listen to Yugs here. Follow the rules please."

"Easy for you to say! Hmm, shall we talk about what you were like growing up, Kookie?"

Jungkook narrowed his eyes, daring Yugyeom to continue. Which he did: "So, our Jungkookie here was actually quite the delinquent—"

"Lies and slander! Jung-so, avoid eye contact and cover your ears!"

Jung-so laughed, "I already know! Hyungs Halmoni told me about it. Said you were a little riff-raff back in the days!"

Jungkook gaped. Covering his heart as if he'd been shot, mouth open and eyes wide. "My Halmoni? My sweet—" Yugyeom's laughter interrupted his little spiel.

"Aish, I grow to love that woman more by the day." Yugyeom heaved, wiping away his tears. It took them a few more minutes to calm down before Jung-so went on with his endless supply of questions.

What was allowed, what wasn't. Chatting about their own experiences with presenting, cracking jokes here and there. Jungkook looked on as Yugyeom pulled Jung-so further out of his shell, the sight warming his heart.

"Hyung, why does Yugyeom have more strings on his fingers than I do?"

Jungkook paused, his eyes pulling together as he lowered his now empty cup. He glanced up, briefly meeting Yugyeom's surprised expression. "You—" he cleared his throat before sitting up. "You can see Yugyeoms soul strings?"

Now it was Jung-so's turn to look confused, tilting his head. "Of course, most people have them. But Yugyeom has six, and I only have four."

Jungkook nodded, it wasn't necessarily unheard of for people to be able to see soul strings. It was just a level of insight that most people did not share, it was rare of sorts.

"Ah, Jung-so, being able to see soul strings isn't common." He avoided the word normal, the last thing he wanted to do here is make Jung-so feel like he was unusual. Too many neglected witches went through that feeling, and he couldn't help but want to shield the boy from it.

"It isn't?" Jung-so mumbled hesitantly.

"It's not bad!" Yugyeom hurriedly chimed in, unable to bear the sight of Jung-so deflating. It would've made him feel smug at how quickly he got wrapped around the kid's finger, but he wasn't any better off.

"Witches can have affinities. Things they're really good at naturally, like unlocking special abilities that others can't. For example, I'm a green witch. It's an encompassing term for someone who has affinities towards nature—all things living. Some people have water affinities or light affinities." He went on, gesturing with his hand before pointing at Yugyeom.

"Affinities don't have to be elemental or physical; for instance, Yugyeom over here has empath affinities. He can decipher auras and emotions far better than the regular witch." Yugyeom smiled, making a little heart with his pointed and thumb.

"So what does that make me?" Jung-so asked, still sounding tentative.

The two older witches shared a brief glance, "Being able to see soul strings is most common amongst seers, hun." Yugyeom explained gently.

"What's a seer?"

"Someone who can glance into the future, who can look into people more than the average person." Jungkook tended to stay away from seers, mostly from his own eerie encounters. There's something about getting a hollow look from a stranger that just feels unsettling; he just didn't like it.

"So, I'll be able to tell the future?" Jung-so went on, sounding more excited.

Sighing, Jungkook hated having to burst the kids idyllic bubble. "Not exactly, Seers can't really control their affinities. Glancing into the future comes in short visions that you can't control—" Rising his hand, he hushed Jung-so before continuing.

"I know that sounds a little scary, but that's why magicals like you go to a special school. You'll find out what affinities you carry there, and the system will cater to your needs." Jung-so nodded, mulling over the new information.

"So no one else can glance into the future?"

Yugyeom sighed, a fond kind of sigh. It didn't surprise Jungkook, the kid never ran out of questions. Of course he wouldn't, this was all new and scary for him. Right now, he was just focusing on laying down the fundamentals for Jung-so so that when he finally transferred to a proper school or academy, he wouldn't feel too far out in the deep end. It felt like his responsibility.

"Well, yes and no." Yugyeom chimed in.

Jungkook rolled his eyes, continuing to elaborate. "Most magic can be learned. It's just different when you have an affinity for a certain subject. For example, some people can learn the art of future telling with tools like tarot cards and other mediums. But it will never compare to what seers are able to do. Someone with a water affinity cannot be compared to someone who focuses on spells manipulating liquids. You can study spell mastery all your life and still be different from a grimoire witch." Jungkook wished he'd have some glasses; he could push them up right now and look all proper. If his past self could see him now—he'd probably be stunned. After all, how could he have gone from a spray-painting delinquent to an eloquently educated tutor?

It would've satisfied his parents; somehow, that thought made him sick.

"Yeah! It's kinda like comparing a fish with a swimmer! You can learn how to swim, but you ain't nothin' like a fish." Sighing, Jungkook couldn't help but laugh.

"Eloquently put, Yugs."

"I'm a natural."

Walking from the cafe, Jung-so held Jungkook's sleeve as they walked. Jungkook walked closest to the road, the kid in the middle and Yugyeom to the left. It was cute how the kid felt too "grown" to hold his hand and instead opted for his sleeve.

They had spent another half an hour chatting, going over what they had already talked about and wrapping up any lingering questions.

"Hyung?"

"Hm?"

"What can't I see your soul strings?"

Pausing, Jungkook looked down at his pinky. The six red knots rested heavily against the skin, and yet, somehow, they remained as feathery as always.

"Do you not have soulmates?" Jung-so sounded sad; why was he sad?

A small chuckle pushed past his lips, mostly to usher away the grave expression taking hold on Jung-sos otherwise soft features. "I have soulmates; six actually. You're so young; don't expect your affinity to show up clearly all the time. It's unreliable so early on, you won't be able to see everyone's soul strings."

Jung-so pouted, nodding his head as they walked. It was still afternoon, and although Jungkook wouldn't have minded spending the entirety of his free day teaching Jung-so, the kid needed a break, and so did Yugyeom, who had been rather eager this morning to walk around Busan for a bit.

"Hyung?"

"Hmm?"

"How come we even have soulmates?"

Yugyeom smiled. It was such an innocent question. It was clear why Jungkook had taken to such a kid, and although Yugyeom didn't know what Jungkook was like throughout his childhood himself, he could see some similarities.

"It's a long story. It dates so far back that it's more myth than fact, really." Jungkook hummed. It didn't feel right to explain the gushy tale about soulmates. Even if he tried remaining natural, a quick glance between him and Yugyeom made his discomfort clear.

"Have you ever heard of The Three Fates?" Yugyeom asked, taking the lead here.

"No, were they the first soulmates?"

Yugyeom shook his head, glancing down at his own tied-up pinky. "No, they weren't. The Three Fates were Goddesses in Greek mythology; together, they controlled the destiny of both gods and humans. One Goddess works as the spinner, determining a person's birth. The second was the allotter: she measured the length of a person's life. The third was the unturnable: she was responsible for cutting one's string with her shears." Yugyeom explained dutifully, not short on the theatrics as he acted out, spinning some thread before stretching it out and finally snipping it.

"Okay, but what does that have to do with soulmates?" Jung-so asked, lowering his hand to hold onto Jungkooks hand properly.

"Well, back then, everyone only had one string, their own. The strings connecting us to our soulmates now are still the same as back then, an extension of our own souls—the same ones The Three Fates would've woven and cut for us," Jungkook explained. It felt easier when he was just stating supposed facts.

"Exactly! So, one day, Atropos The Unturnable ventured to earth. They say she met a kind stranger on her path, one who was hospitable and genuine, who offered her water and bread from their bag and shelter for the night." They crossed the street, nearing the convenience store.

"To reward their kindness, Atropos bestowed upon the traveler a favor should the time come." Yugyeom finished, ignoring the teasing look he got from Jungkook.

"All it took was some water and bread?" Jung-so exaggerated, making them laugh. "Hospitality was very important back then," Jungkook reminded.

"Anyways, the traveler disappeared. Years later, he came back to Atropos ready to exchange their favor." It was a well-known myth, considering that soulmates were the topic and all.

"What was it? Did they ask for a soulmate?"

If Jungkook had a penny for every question Jung-so asked—he wouldn't be rich, but he'd have quite a few pennies at this point.

"No, the traveler had a lover. Sickened and weak, the traveler sought out Atropos. Realizing that their lover's string would soon be cut, they begged the Goddess to pardon their dying mate."

Jungkook could relate to that desperation. Although he was assured of his capabilities, that finding a cure couldn't be impossible, that nagging urgency and despair with each passing month; Jungkook knew he wasn't above begging. Hells, he'd probably kneel in front of a goddess too if it meant he could stick around for a bit longer.

"Atropos could not simply grant someone pardon however; and instead offered the traveler a compromise. She'd cut both their strings and tie them together, binding their souls and saving their beloved." Jungkook felt like Yugyeom was a natural storyteller. He had heard the same tale several times before while growing up. Still, Yugyeom treated it like a performance, capturing both his and Jung-so's attention while he talked.

"But Gods aren't exactly well…the fairest. By binding the two mortal souls together, they were bound. If one perished, the other would as well." Jungkook knew gods still existed to this day, but they were rare. Demigods were really the only ones still spotted every once and again, from what he understood was that they preferred to lay low. Blend in. But boredom breeds a need for entertainment, no matter the costs.

"Which is why it's called soulmates!" Yugyeom finished, clapping his hands together. "Soul because the souls are tied together, and mate, referring to one's beloved!" Jung-so smiled, walking through the convenience store's doors.

"So if one of my soulmates dies, I die?"

Jungkook chuckled, letting go of the kid's hands before ruffling his hair. Grinning at the cute huff and pouty expression he got in return. "No kiddo, it's just an old myth. You'll be fine."

"Hyung, how come I've never met your soulmates before?" Jung-so pouted, jutting out his tongue. Just as dramatic as Yugyeom, he remarked silently.

"Well, they don't live here." He hummed, keeping his tone soft and leveled. He didn't want to think about it, about them. All these stories of love, sacrifices, loss, and happy endings were tying his stomach into a knot.

Jungkook had loved.

He had sacrificed.

And he had lost.

So, where was his happy ending?

"Jung-so, listen to me for a moment." He breathed, kneeling down as he grabbed both of the kid's hands. "Soulmates can be wonderful. But they are just people, too. What matters most is how they treat you. Your happy ending does not lie in the hands of another, do you hear me? You deserve to be treated with kindness, respect, and love." He smiled, giving Jung-so’s hands a small squeeze before letting go. He tapped his nose, smiling gently. "Don't ever let someone tell you otherwise, got it?"

Jung-so nodded, but his lips tugged downwards for a moment before he pushed to hug Jungkooks waist.

"Hyung, you'll come and visit me often, right?"

Jungkook wasn't too sure. He'd be busy, more than he already was with his inquiry. Time was ticking, and he still hadn't found a solid lead yet. He needed to work more, research more, study more, the list went on. He didn't have time to visit as often as he was, even if he wanted to. He couldn't promise Jung-so those frequent lessons anymore.

"Hey, don't sound so sad. I'll come whenever I can, okay? If you ever need me, your eomma has my number. You can talk to me whenever you want and whenever you need something." Jung-so nodded, but he looked more upset than before. Jungkook knew that Jung-so could read between the lines, that this would be a longer goodbye than before.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Leaving the convenience store after dropping Jung-so off felt disheartening. It was always rough leaving the kid, especially when there was still so much to cover. Would Jung-so be okay?

"I think the biggest lie you ever tried selling was the concept of you being an asshole." Yugyeom suddenly chimed in, breaking the silence. "You're a real sweetheart, Jungkook. You might not realize it yourself, but you always go the extra mile for people. Teach the lessons no one had taught you; that's admirable, Kookie."

Awe.

Jungkook flushed, he wasn't really used to such praises. It meant so much more coming from Yugyeom; it felt genuine. What should he say to that?

"A twat maybe, but definitely not an asshole." Yugyeom remarked cheerily, clearly teasing as he grinned mischievously at Jungkook.

"Yugyeom!"

Laughter filled the air, the sun beginning to peek through the parting clouds. "Come on now Kooks, let's go shopping now!"

Turns out that going shopping with Yugyeom was hard.

The day had stretched on seamlessly as the two had stopped to eat lunch in a nook-in-the-wall restaurant, the type that was clearly run by an elderly married couple. The woman taking the orders before shouting them towards the back, a man skillfully preparing all forty-two dishes himself. At this point Jungkook had already taken Yugyeom to a few malls, splurging a little on his friends wardrobe, not without a little struggle of course and much to his own chagrin had been forced to try on countless items as well.

Jungkook should have called it quits after eating; he had already felt a little rusty this morning. Joints hurting just a little more than usual, his head feeling just a little more foggy and tighter. He could tell from experience that today should have been a resting, lay-low kind of day. It was a kind of foresight one only really got through overestimating oneself, but Yugyeom hadn't been in Busan before. Maybe, just maybe, he wanted to show his friend his little part of the world.

The pretty side. Away from all the melancholy shrouding him.

Which is why Jungkook couldn't help but add another stop to their sight-seeing trip. "One of the best places to go for magicals in cities like Busan are markets like the Laminel Market." He explained, pushing past a metal gate. A little flash of heat prickled against his skin, a tell-tale sight of passing through a magical barrier.

"Yeah, I haven't seen as many magicals in the city as I do in the suburbs." Yugyeom said, closing his eyes briefly as he walked past the barrier.

"I mean, it's a lot harder to navigate a city with large wings or horns," Jungkook added, which got a shrug from Yugyeom before the witch paused and took in the sights of the market.

Laminel was bustling with an array of magicals twisting and wandering around the lined stalls. Stalls and tents, crafted from materials ranging from spider silk to moonbeams, lined the meandering cobblestone paths. A symphony of otherworldly languages made the market hectic, but compared to other markets, that was rather normal. The air was filled with enticing aromas, whether from a wild assortment of herbs, teas, or other mystical treats from food vendors.

Markets like these were the place to go if one needed any and all things magical; vendors, who themselves could be vampires, shifters, faeries, or witches, sell everything from cursed artifacts and ancient tomes to rare ingredients and flunky talismans.

“Wow,” Yugyeom stammered. Eyes flicking over the surroundings as he walked through the market with Jungkook. The overarching sky was cast in a perpetual starry sky, a neat trick to make the bazaar more accessible to the nocturnally inclined. A pair of witches question and ogle a selection of simmering potions. Across the market, a dragon in human form haggles over a piece of meteorite.

Further down, a group of mischievous pixies flit around selling maps to "hidden realms" to non-magicals. To the side, a faerie musician plays a peppy melody on a lute, captivating a crowd of diverse magicals.

It was busy. It was hectic and so so magical.

Strings of fairy-lights hang from stall to stall, people conversing happily as they walked by. It was natural, a safe space for everyone who entered. Although humans were the most likely to get scammed in a place like this, they weren't necessarily unwelcomed as long as they behaved.

"It's pretty, isn't it?" Jungkook teased, smiling at Yugyeom's slightly awestruck expression. The sheer auras must be a little overwhelming for the empath, but there was always a level of comfort when being surrounded by one's own kind like this. Being in a city like Busan left little room to properly indulge in all things magical; bazaars like this always seemed to refill that depleting battery.

"It's so lively. I heard about the city markets, but I didn't think they'd be like this." Yugyeom vaguely gestured to all around him, eyes lingering on the jewelry stalls.

"I get Halmonis tea from here, and I'm friends with the vendor."

"Let me guess, the vendor's an oldie?"

Jungkook passed, tilting his head as he glanced at Yugyeom. "How'd you know?"

Yugyeom laughed, shaking his head incredulously at Jungkook's obliviousness. "Seriously! You're found fodder for them! A well mannered, polite little witchy boy who needs some affection."

Jungkook paused, huffing as he looked away. They walked for a moment longer, his arms crossed over his chest as he pouted. "I'm not little…"

Walking through the market was hectic, especially since Yugyeom felt the need to stop at every second stall they passed. But there was a sweetness to watching his friend converse so freely with others, laughing with vendors, trying a multitude of rings and necklaces. The occasional hat, shall, or other nicknack wasn't spared either. It felt strangely normal to be here with Yugyeom, and it still gave Jungkook a bit of whiplash to think they had only just reunited two weeks ago. It felt like they had never parted. A part of him understood why leaving Yugyeom had been a necessity and why he did it. But he also wished he never had; Yugyeom ushered away loneliness within him he hadn't even been aware he had.

A sudden sharp throb against his forehead made him hesitate, his smile turning into a poorly concealed grimace as he let this new onslaught pierce against his skull. Jungkook knew he'd get a headache today, and most of his symptoms were accompanied by headaches. Like a headband far too tight, the pressure increasing throughout the day.

His heart squeezed painfully like a small dull contraction, leaving his chest sore. He lifted his hand, gently rubbing small circles into his chest. His little episodes were bearable, but with each passing week, they were bordering on downright painful. But Jungkook managed; he was used to this, and he had been warned about this. He knew that if he were to glance at his wrist now, those hauntingly familiar black veins would mar his skin again like an unwanted tattoo. Instinctively, he pulled the sleeves of his black puffer jacket down further.

"Jungkook—"

The earlier comfort in the market was gone, an unpleasant shiver running down his spine like the shadowy ghost of a hand. It was too loud, too busy, too hectic—

"Jungkook?"

His gaze snapped back to Yugyeom, blinking once, twice—again until he could focus back on who was in front of him.

“Jungkook, are you okay?” Yugyeom asked, skeptical gaze wandering across his tense frame.

No.

No, he felt awful.

"Yeah, I'm good. Got a little lost in thought there, I'm still trying to find proper source material for my research y'know?" Word vomiting wasn't exactly a fair way to avoid confrontation, but Jungkook didn't have it in him to properly lie and make an excuse for himself.

"Thornvine is good and all, but its potency decreases after introducing it to air." Jungkook paused, ignoring the confused expression from Yugyeom. "Of course, we could put it into an airtight container but the nitrogen, oxygen, and argon would still find a way to interact with the medicinal herb whenever used."

"Jungkook—"

"Thornvine is a purifier, but it detoxifies the entire body. Considering that the mana is what is actually corrupted, would the thornvine root potentially strain the remaining body?"

"Jungkook!!"

Jungkook paused, mouth shutting with a small snap as Yugyeom moved in front of him. "Breath, okay?" Stable, unwavering eyes met his, and Jungkook found himself unable to do anything but breathe. Yugyeom had a very stern voice if he needed it.

"We were talking about rings, when did you get to thornvine roots again? Jungkook-ah, I find your work ethic admirable and I understand— the pressure you're under. But balance is important, yeah?" Yugyeom explained, clear and direct. Jungkook nodded, exhaling slowly as he calmed down. He'd rather get scolded than have his friend worried, Yugyeom was enjoying the market after all. He didn't want to be the one to cut that time short.

"Okay, sorry." He breathed, sporting a weak smile.

Yugyeom stared at him a little longer, clearly still skeptical about something, before letting it go with a sigh. Jungkook grabbed his hand, giving it a small apologetic squeeze. "Let's go to that tea stall now, okay? They give out free samples."

Nodding, Yugyeom let him lead them through the crowds. Jia ran the stall with her sister, the two elderly fairies had a larger space compared to the others; small foldable chairs and desks littering the front for anybody wanting a cup of tea in person.

"Ah! Jungkookies back! Bora look—look !" Jia rushed, Bora—her sister—grabbed the dangling pair of glasses around her neck and quickly put them on. Clapping her hands together in joy, "and finally with some company too! Whose this, your boyfriend?"

Jungkook laughed, shaking his head as Yugyeom snickered. “No no, this is Yugyeom. An old friend of mine."

"Oh, how lovely. Sit sit! I'll make some tea." Jia ushered, waving them over to sit down. Jia was a very peppy woman, always adorned in far too many layers and patterns. A smaller but larger framed woman whose writs were always covered in large chunky jewelry. Bora was the opposite, a very tall and lean woman who wore monotone colors. Behind each of their backs were small fairy wings. Although Bora was more direct and brutally honest than Jia, both of them were sweethearts.

They both sat down after some thorough questioning, each being given a steaming cup of tea to enjoy as they talked. Jia and Bora both busy with other customers.

"Alright," Yugyeom announced as he set his cup down once he noticed Jungkook's thoughts straying again.

"Thornvine root loses its potency after exposing it to the air, right?" Jungkook was a little surprised by the change of topic, feeling a little bashful at his poor concealment. His head still ached, and his inflamed ribcage was begging for a warm heating pad at the moment.

"Yeah, it's complicated to prepare but durable. I can't use it if it loses its effectiveness during consumption either." He explained, thornvine root was the best herb he had found for his condition. "My theory is simple so far, thornvine is a strong antioxidant. It has long-lasting purifying qualities." He waited for Yugyeom's nod before continuing.

"If my mana is the subject of corruption, introducing a purifying agent could control or reduce the levels of toxicity." Jungkook wanted a cure—something to rid himself of this disease. But he was running out of time, and being able to develop a cure that would reduce his condition from fatal to chronic, then he considered that a momentary win.

"We could put a spell on it? A type of concealment spell to keep the air away." Yugyeom suggested, glancing at his teacup absentmindedly.

Jungkook shook his head, sighing sadly. "In theory, but no. If you put a spell on a consumable item, you'll also be consuming a small amount of mana. That could potentially develop into a catalyst for the condition."

Yugyeom nodded, frown deepening. Jungkook had gone through all of this before, developing a theory only to be proven wrong. The defeat grew worse the further on he went when hope was snatched out of his fingertips yet again. It breeds a hopelessness he'd like to spare Yugyeom from.

"Oh honey, you need to find yourself an azurelbloom!" Jia suddenly popped up beside Yugyeom, making the witch jump a little as he hurriedly grabbed his nearly spilt teacup.

Jungkooks brows furrowed, trying to recall the herb Jia was describing. "I've never heard of an azurelbloom before."

Jia hummed, gently tapping Yugeums head in a silent apology for spooking the boy. "The azurelbloom is very old, one of the few truly sentient flowers left on the planet. It was said—" Jia began, lowering her voice into a whisper to make the story sound more interesting. She pulled out a chair, inviting herself to sit down at the table with them.

"The flower was said to be used by the Gods."

Gods?

"Aish, don't believe any of that nonsense Jungkook." Bora muttered, dismissing the idea with her hand as he sat down at the last remaining chair, spooking Yugyeom once more. It made Jungkook stifle a snicker, the two sisters could be quite—sporadic.

"What?! The azurelbloom existed!” Jia argued, crossing her arms.

"Perhaps 500 years ago. You're feeding the kid a legend Jia, what Jungkook really needs to do is go find the Nereids." Bora objected, pushing up her narrow glasses.

"Nereids, as in, the water nymphs?" Yugyeom asked, still recovering from getting jumpscared—twice.

Bora nodded, waving around the closed fan she always carried with her. "Nereids pulled all kinds of things into the water with them if they were fond enough. They are masters at preservation; if they desired a daisy one day, they'd preserve it to never touch the depths of their springs. If they're able to keep air in, it's only fair to assume they'd be able to keep air out, too."

Jungkook nodded, finding a way to preserve the thornvine roots was his biggest obstacle at the moment. Perhaps if the Nereids showed him how, he'd be able to finally begin creating proper prototypes.

"That all said and good, but don't nymphs have an aversion to men?" Jia asked, frowning at the thought. "You're sending the boy out into danger!"

Bora scoffed at the accusation, "as if setting him out to hunt down an ancient, cognizant flower is any better."

"Well, it's better then—"

Jungkooks head pulsed, his fingers trembling underneath the table. He had a lot to think about, and yet, there was so little time. But he had a new lead, and that's all he needed.

Now, how the hell was he going to find a Nereid?

Come on…

A little more…

So close—

Jungkook gasped as the library's ladder began to slide to the left. He was leaning off towards the side, trying to reach a book on Ancient Greek folklore, or more specifically, nymphs. Unlike most magicals, who could simply summon the book down from the shelves where the library's encyclopedia stood on the podium, Jungkook—for several reasons—could not.

Perhaps he should have just climbed back down and shifted the ladder a little to the right, but it had been a long day, and he was still partially recovering from his trip to his Halmoni. So, he had been lazy and was now going to suffer the consequences of tasting the old carpeted flooring as the ladder continued to slide.

Closing his eyes, Jungkook briefly expected the impact to come as he inevitably lost his footing on the ladder as it stretched his form out. Gasping quietly—this was still a library, after all—Jungkook braced himself only to feel tingly?

Eyes snapping open, Jungkook shuddered as he shortly levitated in the air before being carefully lowered down. His feet touched the floor slowly, but the adrenaline still made him stumble. His savior's magic linger against his skin, like a subtle warm or fading caress.

But Jungkook could recognize that magic from anywhere, and he didn't even need to wonder who had saved him before turning around greeting Namjoon's worried expression.

"Did you hurt yourself, Jungkook-ah?"

Perhaps Jungkook would never get used to the sight of his old soulmates again. The library was a loose term for what Veils had to offer; it was more like a grand and ancient archive. Long, stretching bookshelves required sliding landers just to be able to access the top sections of the bookshelves. The middle of the library had long, heavy mahogany desks available for the students. However, small, shorter desks were also littered around along with comfortable seating for anyone simply trying to read.

Natural light seemed to flood the library, too. Windows lined the walls, filling the otherwise academic architecture with warmth. Namjoon stood before one of these windows, the light peeking around his silhouette and embracing his form. Jungkook hadn't taken the time to properly look over Namjoon, he had briefly glanced over him when moving in and during their last argument, but now Namjoon was before him and—and he looked beautiful.

Yeah, Jungkook would surely never get used to the sight.

There was a new sense of maturity in Namjoon's appearance, from the way his posture was straight yet still carried a certain mellowness. His face and features are now sharper and more defined. Six years had been a long time; somewhere along the way, all of them had gone from boys to adults. Of course, things would have changed. Jungkook just hadn't noticed it before, the intensity in Namjoons changed gaze.

His style alone had changed too; back in the academy, Namjoon had never strayed from the required uniform, but on holidays, the mandatory dress code wasn't enforced; Namjoon had still chosen to dress in rather formal, business-casual attire at most. Jungkook recalled, rather fondly, how Seokjin and Jimin had dedicated nearly an entire day to pepping up Namjoons wardrobe. They had hunkered down in Jimins and Taehyung's shared room, clothes spewn half-hazardously across the floor, across chairs and their beds, Namjoon forced to parade in front of the full-length mirror like a personal manikin as they tried discovering Namjoons preferences together. Hopefully to stray from his interrogation-like style and more of a casual academic style. Their day hadn't been the most productive, but they did discover that Namjoon enjoyed certain styles over others. Jungkook had enjoyed that day, simply goofing off with his Hyungs and forcing his usually put-together Hyung in various styles and outfits. Having watched Namjoon be out of his element for once had quite the bonding factor for him, especially since Namjoon had struggled so immensely with showing his vulnerabilities. Vaguely, Jungkook couldn't help but wonder how much that has changed.

Even now, Namjoon wore a soft set of grayish-brown suit pants—some habits never die, it seems—tied at the waist with a black leather belt that matched the black turtleneck that hugged his body. A loose, large-sleeved gray cardigan ties the outfit neatly together. Namjoon appeared soft but still put together enough that Jungkook assumed would make Namjoon feel comfortable.

How could Namjoon simply look so effortless? It irritated him, mostly because he got caught staring. Who could blame him? He hadn't seen Namjoon in nearly six years; somehow, his eyes were still trying to catch up with the fact that Namjoon was real , that he was in front of him. Besides that, what frustrated him more was that within the past week, he had been asked the same question twice already by both Hoseok, Yoongi and now Namjoon as well.

Jungkook had hoped silently that they could all just go their separate ways after their argument. At least they could all just pretend to hate each other, right? Hating them was easy. Even if Jungkook's feelings stretched far beyond just hate, what was going on was far more complex than just simply being sad or angry. Hating them was the only way it didn't hurt.

Finally snapping out of his embarrassing stupor, Jungkook nodded. "Yep, just fine. Thanks." He murmured, looking around him to spot the book he had nearly taken the fall for lying on the floor. Bending down, he picked it up quickly. He wanted to leave. Lest he take a look into Namjoons all too familiar eyes. It was like taking a look at one's past while simultaneously glancing at one's own unachievable, daunting future. A world consisting entirely of what-ifs and had-beens.

It scared Jungkook how much he was still able to hurt for these people. For him.

"Well, anyways, I'll be going—"

Namjoon quickly stepped in front of him, stopping Jungkook from escaping the situation. Brows now furrowed in irritation, Jungkook took a step back. The string connecting them tugged lightly, almost unwilling to let him escape their unwelcome proximity.

"Namjoon, move."

"No, please—" Namjoon exhaled, brushing his hair back with his hand nervously. He glanced around before finally locking eyes with Jungkook. It nearly took the sickly witches breath away, they hadn't been that close before, Jungkook hadn't seen those sincere eyes since— since then.

It hurt.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook.” Namjoon began, frowning deeply. "For everything. Gods have mercy; there aren't enough ways for me to apologize to you for all that's happened. But also for our last argument, emotions were strung high and I—" Namjoon inhaled sharply, his exhale a little shaky. "You had every right to react the way you did, telling you to calm down was inappropriate of me. I spoke out of turn, and I'm sorry for that."

Ever the diplomat, Kim Namjoon. Jungkook thought bitterly. However, an apology was better than none, Namjoon's reaction had been out of turn, no matter how diplomatically refined his apology came across. Jungkook stood silently between the narrow aisle of bookshelves, staring at the man he had loved endlessly six years ago as he let his apology dangle heavily in the air. But Namjoon was right, there weren't enough apologies in the world for his anguish to subside.

Namjoons apology came too late.

The silence between them made Namjoon nearly sink in on himself, the older witches hand hesitated as it briefly lifted to reach out for Jungkook, halting mid air before dropping limply to his side. Eventually, it balled up.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Jungkook." Namjoons usually relaxed voice sounded wobbly, unsteady as the pleading witch swallowed.

And just like a dormant dragon, Jungkooks anger sprung back to life. Mostly because the sheer vulnerability within Namjoon's tone unsettled him, and another because the string connecting both him and Namjoon tugged weakly on his finger. He still wasn't used to that feeling; no, their bonds had remained devoid of any and all motion during the past years; feeling it move rattled him. There was something about seeing a shine to Namjoons's eyes that also irritated him. Why was Namjoon close to crying?—he had no right.

Jungkook had been the one hurt here.

The silence hanging between them was uncomfortable, nearly sparking from its intensity. None of them spoke, and with a resounding sigh, Jungkook's shoulders sank.

"I'm not sure what you want me to say, Namjoon-sii." Perhaps that was the most level-headed Jungkook could be at this moment, but there was a certain defeat in his tone.

"I can't say that everythings fine, that you are forgiven, that I don't hate you. None of that's true—" Namjoons remorseful gaze never left his, when had been the last time they had looked into each other's eyes? "—and you know that."

Again, the library's silence grew louder in its stillness. Namjoon seemed to be mulling over his own words, before he nodded. “I know that, Jungkook-ah. I'm not asking for your forgiveness," there was a pause, and Namjoon seemed to understand that asking for Jungkook's forgiveness was beyond him. That— that was something he wasn't allowed or able to request.

"All I'm asking for is a chance—"

"No." Jungkook cut him off, he wanted none of it.

"Please, just to talk." Namjoon continued, a level of desperation as he pleaded. "Jungkook, I haven't seen you in six years. Please, I know I'm in no place to make requests from you—"

"So don't."

Namjoon heaved a sigh, combing his hair back. "I've missed you."

Gods, what would Jungkook give to never hear Namjoon say that again. Such simple words, wrapping around his throat like a noose.

But Namjoon continued, his own draconic eyes mirroring the desolation and fear that this could be their last time talking. "Please, Jungkook. Let's talk—we need to—to talk."

Jungkook closed his eyes, inhaled sharply, and counted to ten until he opened them again. Keeping the wateriness at bay was futile, and he watched as Namjoon's hands itched to wipe his tears away. The elder stayed still, good.

With a deep breath, tone cold and filled with a pained contempt, he spoke, perhaps a final time with Namjoon:

"You didn't just walk out of a room that day, Kim Namjoon."

"You walked out on me."

There was a finality to Jungkooks tone, a bit unrecognizable to his own ears. But it needed to be said, Namjoon needed to hear it as much as he needed to say it.

"The moment you walked out that fucking door. You relinquished everything you had on me. You have no rights to my life anymore. So don't—" Jungkooks voice quivered, forcing the sickly witch to swallow down his rising emotions. "—don't ask me to talk with you, especially when we have nothing to say to each other."

Jungkook's hand tightened around the spine of the borrowed book, taking a few steps back.

"Not anymore," he murmured, giving a slight bow with a politeness associated with strangers. "Goodbye, Namjoon-sii." He whispered, holding onto a faulty sense of closure as he walked away.

The sharp sound of a book slamming shut, followed closely by an elongated sigh, broke the silence surrounding the laboratory. Glancing out the window, the sun had set hours ago; leaving the sky generously decorated by the stars. Yugyeom had left the lab hours ago, not without the firm prompting of the Im coven threatening to send over some of its members to collect Yugyeom personally (which they had); it had been cute. It comforted Jungkook how well-matched Yugyeom and the Im coven were. He glanced briefly at the empty food container on his desk, a gift from Jaebeom since Jungkook had made a habit of getting take-out since he didn't want to spend any more time in his shared apartment than necessary.

Originally, he had only accepted the meal under the guise that the coven had simply made too much for dinner last night, but this being the fifth day in a row, he was beginning to have some doubts.

It had been—what? Six days since Yugyeom and he had returned from Busan? It took nearly the entire train ride back to persuade him to tone down his fussing, and even now, Yugyeom focused more on his meals than ever. Apparently, he hadn't been all that subtle at the market.

Nearly every morning, Yugyeom would come in with a hot drink in his hand, usually a type of tea and a little snack. The teas, always kept warm by simple magic, contained some type of health benefit. Youngjae began joining them during the mornings, explaining a little more about each current selection. Jungkook later found out that Youngjae was the one actually making and brewing the tea specifically for Jungkook's health, each day selecting something different. One day, it had been a brew specific for his metabolism, another for his muscles or heart, and something generic and basic. Occasionally—and thanks to much discussion—the Ims would only bring him food for lunch every once in a while. Now that he was receiving food nearly every night for dinner, also accepting a clearly homemade meal for lunch just felt like too much. Too leeching.

So on the rare occasion where Jungkook allowed himself to be manhandled off towards lunch, he'd eat with Yugyeom and usually some of his other coven members. Depending on who had time at the moment, Yugyeom rarely ate alone. Jaebeom was the head of the coven, prompting him to be significantly more busy than the younger members. But Jungkook managed to spend nearly most of his week with the Ims, and it was—it was nice. Mark and Jackson made him laugh more times than he could count; Youngjae was easy to fall into conversations with, especially regarding his growing herb garden. Jinyoung had traveled a lot before finding his soulmates, and Jungkook loved hearing about the man's adventures. Jaebeom gave off a sense of authority that Jungkook generally avoided, but as the days flew by, Jaebeom grew softer and more doting. BamBam, as it turns out, is as much of a brat as Yugyeom, roping Jungkook into whatever they had planned for the day.

Glancing at the fresh bouquet of flowers in the corner by the windowsill, he couldn't help but wonder which of the Ims was responsible for replacing and filling the empty vase every two to three days. At first, Jungkook found the gesture cute for Yugyeom, if only the flowers hadn't been on his side of the lab each time.

The flowers didn't come from Youngjae's garden, so he could only assume it was another form of encouragement from the coven.

Spending time with the Ims felt natural and easy. Despite all their poorly concealed fussing, no one looked at him with those solemn expressions he absolutely loathed. Besides the teas, the inconspicuous push of vegetables, broths, and not-so-subtle additions of meats to his plate, he was treated like a person—not a tragedy but a friend.

It meant a lot to him.

A soft, subtle knocking disrupted his poor attempts at getting anything done. Glancing away from the flowers, he knew he'd have to revisit the topic of nymphs and nereids at a later date, most likely tomorrow.

The lab door opened before Jungkook could get up, glancing around to see if Yugyeom had forgotten his coat or phone again.

"What did you forget this time, Yugs?" Jungkook hummed sarcastically, turning to look at the door before halting. His amused smile slipped, taking in the sight of Jimin holding a large bouquet of flowers. A delicate assortment of purple hyacinths, tulips, sunflowers, and white lilies separated by the occasional green leaf or branch.

The bouquet was beautiful, as were the last few he'd received. They would've been even more beautiful if he hadn't just realized they had been coming from Jimin.

Jimin looked shocked, as if he wasn't expecting Jungkook to still be in the lab. Which was wild, considering that it was his laboratory. His eyes were wide, staring back at Jungkook in a slight stupor. He wore a white puffer jacket that was zipped up all the way, a gray scarf tucked snuggly around his neck. His cheeks and nose were dusted a light pink from the cold, the hand holding the bouquet a cold pinkish as well.

Jungkook seemed to snap out of his surprise first, clearing his throat as he mimicked his nonchalance. "What are you doing here?"

He sounded calm and insouciant. Jimins' presence bothered him, and so did the newfound knowledge that the bouquet of flowers he always spent time admiring each morning was from him. But it was well past midnight, and Jungkook had woken up early that morning to head to the library—his interaction with Namjoon still heavy on his shoulders. Working just helped in that regard, with each word he read and every page he studied. Devoting himself to what truly mattered helped sway the focus back to where it should be; his cure.

As if snapping out of a trance, Jimin perked up before tumbling over his words. "What?—OH, yes—yeah, I just umm… came here to replace the—uh, flowers." Jimin looked sheepish, which was rare considering that hardly anything made Jimin flush back in the day. At least, they hadn't been able to. Jimin had been open to, well— most things. Besides little embarrassing hiccups around strangers, hardly anything could deter Jimin's unwavering confidence back in the day.

Did—

Did Jimin consider him a stranger?

Somehow, between all the bitterness and sorrow he felt when looking at Jimin, the thought of being reduced to a simple stranger bothered him. Not when they had known each other for longer than they hadn't. Not when Jimin had meant everything to him.

"Ah," for a moment Jungkook wished he could string together an actual intellectual sentence. But it was hard to think around any of his old coven members, there was something about their mere presence that overwhelmed him with emotions. Clearing his throat, he glanced away bashfully as Jimin's gaze softened on him—fondly?

"I wasn't aware you were the one leaving those." Jimins lip quirked upwards at his words, the witch rolling on his feet before Jungkook let him in with a stunted nod. He walked over to the vase, carefully taking out the resting flowers. Besides a few petals here and there, the bouquet never managed to look withered before Jimin supposedly replaced it. He tended to them with a level of care that borderlined on affection, and Jungkook couldn't handle the thought of any of them, including Jimin, being affectionate with him.

"Yeah, I had wanted to talk to you after you got settled in. But when I got to your lab, you weren't there." Jimin explained, his voice composed and warm. He took the new bundle of flowers, removing its rapping carefully before summoning a quick set of pruning scissors and beginning to prep the ends. Jungkook sat still, unable to process the normality of Jimin's behavior.

Maybe Jungkook was just really tired. He still hadn't fully recovered from his episode in the market, or maybe he just hadn't slept enough. But having Jimin in his laboratory felt strange, and so did his warm, gentle tone. It was just so Jimin.

It had been years. Nothing about the man before him should still feel familiar.

"I just noticed how dull everything looked, y'know?" Jimin went on, skillfully beginning to arrange the set of flowers he bought into the vase.

"This is a laboratory, not a gallery, Jimin-ah." Jungkook retorted, crossing his arms.

Jimin laughed, lightheartedly and airily. Like the gentle music Jimin's laughter had always been, even with how soft and quiet it was now, it eased Jungkook's tense shoulders. After all these years, Jungkook still found himself so weak for Jimin.

A weakness he couldn't—shouldn't allow. This was about himself, his protection, his self-preservation, and yet, he couldn't bring himself to usher Jimin out of his sanctuary. He only lowered his head, picking at the soft fabric of his sweater.

"I just—" Jimin paused, hand trailing over the stem of a white Lilie. "Remembered how you used to like picking flowers every spring; the seasons are changing and all, but I thought you'd like a little color in here regardless." Sighing quietly, Jimin stepped back to admire his work. The flowers were arranged beautifully, even if Jungkook didn't want to admit it.

A silence stretched between them, lingering lonesomely. "This room gets a lot of light. So I thought sunflowers would look quite good in here." Jimin mused, glancing around Jungkook's filled work desk curiously.

He should've asked Jimin to leave the moment he entered. But Jungkook was at a wits end for tonight, between too much work and little sleep, spending the better part of a day trying to figure out a way to get occasionally man-eating goddesses to help him out.

It can't be that hard, right?

Jungkook kept his gaze on the flower arrangement, there was something ironic about the sight of sunflowers without any sun to bask in. Jimin had a light affinity, a literal, breathing, sun.

"You shouldn't be here this late, Jungkook-ah, it's not healthy—"

"You were like the sun." Jungkook croaked, projecting a silence against the room. Faintly, one could hear the soft calling of crickets outside despite the laboratory being on the upper floors.

His eyes lingered on a sunflower protruding from the arrangement, a strange sense of melancholy erupting within him. Jungkook was exhausted, there just wasn't any room for anger tonight. Looking at Jimin, all Jungkook felt was a bittersweetness that edged more on sorrow than anger.

"You were my sun." Had his voice always sounded so fragile? There was a lump in his throat forcing him to swallow.

"And—"

"—and when you left ."

Jungkook looked up, his absent gaze finding Jimin's rueful ones. His old soulmate's waterline glistened, a wetness threatening to spill over if Jungkook went on.

"You took the sunlight with you."

Just because a witch had an affinity didn't mean they had to share a personality with their abilities. Necromancers didn't have to be edgy and downright creepy, nor did seers have to be reserved and wise, but Jimin— Jimin was like a ray of sunshine.

When they had met Hoseok for the first time, it had been like two stars colliding. Erupting to create a light so warm, so gentle that they had all been drawn to it.

"I—I spent years in that darkness, not able to see where I'm going, where I'm heading, it was all just empty." How many times, prompted by the jinge of the bookstores bells, had Jungkook wished he'd see Jimin's familiar face?

"So when I finally—Finally managed to light a candle, you show up." He didn't mean to sound so grim, but their reality was; in fact, far from perfect. It had always been the two of them, like Bonnie and Clyde or Robin Hood and Marian. Until it suddenly wasn't.

"And I don't care, I don't care that your presence promises me sunlight."

"Jungkook-ah—" Jimins voice quivered, sounding watery. "Can I just please—"

"Because when you took it the first time, you also took my sense of security within you."

Had he been too dependent on Jimin? Of course not; they had been soulmates, after all.

"When you left, you made it look easy —"

Jimin had always shone so beautifully; if he had been the sun, then Yoongi would've been the moon. Only now did Jungkook realize that in all his life he had never been anything more than a mere sunflower.

"—like, like it was easy to leave me."

Autumn was approaching; Jungkook hadn't noticed it before, the subtle chill joining the breeze brushing past him. The leaves were beginning to change colours, greens migrating into different shades of yellows and oranges. The park's gravelly path wasn't littered with foliage yet, but occasionally, a leaf would separate from its twig and dance through the air before landing on damp grass.

It was early. Early enough in the morning, that the park was still a tranquil haven, cloaked in the soft hues of dawn. The trees stretch out the shadows of the rising sun, its golden hue forcing the dewdrop-covered leaves to practically sparkle as the warming light peaked through branches. The air still had a certain bite to it, a crisp that usually faded throughout the later mornings, currently carrying the sweet fragrance of dew-kissed grass and blossoming flowers.

Jungkook wasn't usually an early bird; he was late to rise and even later to rest. But it had been Yugyeom's suggestion for Jungkook to indulge in other things outside the laboratory, which is why he was here now. Caring a small bag Yugyeom had gifted him consisted of nothing besides a small sketchbook and pencil. It was an old hobby of his—to draw. Quite frankly, he had ceased all of his hobbies after his diagnosis. It felt bittersweet; Jungkook hadn't really realized just how much he had given up that day.

Jungkook consistently trod the delicate line between elation and guilt. Throughout his years of study, he carefully avoided any and all thoughts of his inevitable death. He could—He couldn't accept it. Every action he took, every chapter, every essay, every paper he read was done with an innate sense of dedication—of urgency.

He wasn't going to die.

The grass, still dappled with the glistening remnants of the night's dew, crunched underneath Jungkook's boots as he wandered off the path and towards an empty bench looking out onto the lake. A sense of renewal pervades the air, and the stillness carries a promise of unknown possibilities. Mallards still stayed floating on the water's rippling surface, heads tucked on their backs and against their wings. The birds nesting amongst the surrounding trees had gradually begun to sing, soft chirps and boisterous calls echoing through the rustling leaves. It was almost as if the park itself was awakening with the day, ready to unfold its wonders for those fortunate enough to witness its early morning beauty.

Jungkook almost found it amusing how Yugyeom's exuberance rekindled his own. How, in his steel-fortified focus, he hadn't recognized the depths of his own isolation. Along the way, toeing between different kinds of grief and sorrow, he had somehow convinced himself that companionship was unnecessary. Now, he had someone holding his hand again. Looking out onto the lake, Jungkook watched as the first ducks began awakening, beginning to prune their feathers before he glanced at the small beige tote bag Yugyeom had handed to him.

It felt surreal—how things were beginning to change. Jungkooks own echelon was beginning to form, and watching the ducks cluster together as they awoke made Jungkook oddly happy. He had his Halmoni, now Yugyeom and Balam, and he was even becoming evermore familiar with the Im coven from their frequent visits to his shared laboratory.

With every passing day, Jungkook felt his head slowly emerge from the water he felt himself sinking into. He had always boasted about his ability to move forward after his verdict, but comparing his current now and his previous then.

Had he ever really moved forward?

His eyes caught onto the still resting form of a swan, the bird's long neck laid across its back and eyes closed as it drifted across the lake. He couldn't help but wonder lazily, what was the saying—Swans mate for a lifetime? Moving to grab the tote bag, Jungkook grabbed the small sketchbook and pencil, perching the notebook on his lap before beginning to sketch the idyllic swan. He was rusty, no doubt from his six-year gap, but he quickly familiarized himself with the nostalgic peace sketching gave him.

But the reposed silence didn't last long, the sound of someone sitting down beside him had Jungkook tensing. The slight edges of annoyance filling his aura, as a quick glance around gave way to several empty benches. Glancing to his side, Jungkooks breath caught in his throat as he looked at Taehyung.

The witch wore a long, gray-textured wool coat that reached a little past his knee. A large, red and dark gray chequered scarf draped over the back of his neck, leaving his neck exposed. Jungkook wanted to scoff, partially because wearing the scarf was pointless like that, and to resist the urge to wrap it around Taehyung's neck properly himself. The hell was up with him?

The witch also wore a pair of auburn brown pants that matched well with his white sweatshirt. Taehyung's entire outfit gave off a clean but simple look, matching well with the growing autumn colours. Taehyung had yet to look at Jungkook, eyes instead gazing forward and observing the same picturesque scenery Jungkook had been soaking up all morning. Most specifically, Taehyung seemed to be watching the rising swan.

Jungkook hated it. He found it abhorrent how his hands itched to fix the witch's scarf, how he couldn't keep his eyes from marveling at the stark change between his Taehyung and this Taehyung. However, he figured the worst part of all—was how beautiful Taehyung still was.

Jungkook was no longer looking at a rough-looking delinquent with smokey eyeliner and overly moussed hair, and neither was he breathing in the smell of old leather or subtle spray paint. No, the Taehyung beside him was entirely different. He smelt of subtle cologne and wore no make-up at all, adorning a well-picked-out outfit for autumn that complemented his stature entirely too much. Taehyung, when did you change?

"The others told me not to talk to you." Taehyung began, and somehow Jungkook couldn't help but connect the opposing witches' aura to their surroundings; somehow Taehyung carried the same nippy frost the freshening air did.

"But I don't care," Taehyung added, and despite the clear disregard towards his own wishes—he found Taehyung's disobedience comical, familiar. "Jimin told me about what you said to him."

Ah, Jungkook had almost forgotten just how close they all were with one another. Jungkook had accepted the fact that his path would never align with his soulmates again—he came to terms with that. But that night, all of them had split up. Jungkook had remained unaware that while he trotted around the world like a pariah, they had been wandering together.

Jungkook inhaled, his shaky breath coming out quivery as it clouded against the fresh morning air. There was no way that that realization would ever not hurt him.

"He looked for you."

Taehyung hadn't looked at him as he spoke, but it carried a curtness he was familiar with. There was a subtle, pensive sweetness to the familiarity; that despite the physical changes, Taehyung would always remain Taehyung. It took Jungkook a moment to catch onto exactly what he had said, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion before realization dawned on him.

Briefly, the scene of Taehyung entering the auditorium and jogging towards Jimin's brooding figure during Yugyeom's presentation flashed through him. The sight of Jimin's turbulent thoughts vanishing, practically melting under Taehyung's doting affections. They were so close to one another. Bonded.

"What?" Jungkook piped, looking out at the grooming swan. It was ironic to be surrounded by so much ataraxia and yet remain utterly troubled.

Jungkook watched as Taehyung's blank expression cracked, the facade quivering as he whispered, "We—well, we looked for you."

This time, it was Jungkook's turn to avoid eye contact because—what was he supposed to do with that information? Give Taehyung a participation sticker? A part of him wanted the other witch to stop this conversation entirely because, despite his efforts, his unbridled hate and contempt for everything regarding soulmates—Jungkook still bled for them. With every word, with every encounter, his heart would begin to weep all over again. Taehyung's words hurt, an ache entirely different from anything that could've been caused by insulting him. It was a deep, visceral kind of throbbing.

"We searched for years," Taehyung whispered, and perhaps if the park wasn't nearly as serene and empty as it was, Jungkook would've lost the softness of them to the wind.

A moment passed, Taehyungs gaze lowering to the ground as his expression contorted into one of mild frustration. Jungkook vaguely remembers a similar reaction to a conversation they had long ago, where Taehyung confided in him and complained about his inability to properly express himself. Jungkook couldn't help but wonder if those words still applied today.

"There wasn't—" Taehyung paused, inhaling as his tongue flicked to wet his lips. "There wasn't a pebble we left unturned Jungkook." Please, Jungkook thought pleadingly, please don't say my name like that.

As if the world depended on Jungkook believing him.

"Jimin hyung," Taehyung began again, "Jimin even went to your parents." The witch let out a dry, bitter-sounding chuckle that was more spiteful than anything else. Jungkook instantly understood, his own surprise at the information wearing off. His parents were huge, bigoted classists who were pretty prejudiced against gifted witches—those who weren't born into a witching bloodline—opposed to their superiorly born witches.

Jimin was a gifted witch, as in he hadn't actually developed his abilities until the MCA classified him as a magical. There wasn't necessarily any difference between the abilities of a born witch and gifted witch, but prejudices still existed nonetheless. Jungkook never cared for any of that bullshit. But to imagine Jimin, a man who has always been viewed as inferior by his parents, knocking on their door and asking about his whereabouts stirred his mixed emotions even more.

"You could imagine how well that went." Taehyung cursed, hands scrunching up. "The old hag tore him apart—rightfully so, but Jimin only ever repeated his question."

A small flock of ducks flew down towards the lake, circling it once before slowly lowering into the waving water with energetic wingstrokes. They squeaked and squawked, playfully circling each other as they occasionally ducked for food. Gradually, people began entering the park too. The lonesome jogger or dog walker following the path outlining the body of water.

"So I went to find Jimin, and together we began combing through Hangawoondae together." Taehyungs expression never truly changed as he recounted what occurred after Jungkook left. His fists were hidden in his coat pockets, but Jungkook could tell that he was cycling through a restrained pattern of clenching and unclenching his fists.

"But together, we couldn't find you either." Somehow, Taehyung still managed to tone his words with a level of despair that made Jungkook wonder if he was still missing. "So we went to find Namjoon and Jin."

Jungkook knew he shouldn't be indulging Taehyung like this—he should've left. But another part of him wanted to know , he wanted to know what they did when he left. The first weeks on his own were gruesome, a collaboration between being cold, hungry, and lonely. When all Jungkook had was an empty park bench to lay on for the night, his gaze cast up into the desolate starry sky. Wondering vacantly where they were, whether or not anyone was out there looking for him.

Jungkook knew that despite all the supposed hate and disassociation he had prided himself on, he never lost a certain hope throughout the beginning. With every jingle of the front entrance bells at his Halmoni's store, Jungkook had hoped to see a familiar face. But that day never came, and those hopes died after the third year had passed.

So Jungkook remained seated, his pale hands resting on his knees, fingertips dusted a light pink from the cold. Though the temperature hardly bothered him, his body didn't really heat up anymore. His mana too preoccupied at keeping himself stable to waste energy on heat.

"Namjoon and Jin went and found your Grandparents—fuck, we even tracked down your Uncle," Taehyung muttered. Jungkook frowned; he had cut all ties with his family when he left. There wasn't one member worse than the other, and they were all just dreadful. But to hear they had managed to track down his salacious, estranged Uncle? That must've come from Namjoon's connections.

"Hoseok and Yoongi had apparently already searched for you on their own," Taehyung said that strangely—spitefully? And here Jungkook thought they were all lovey-dovey with one another. He had to stifle a snarky remark, but despite all that could've changed with Taehyung, they were still so much alike. And Jungkook knew that if he interjected now, Taehyung might close up and leave.

"Not even Yugyeom knew where you were." Taehyung pushed through, and unlike the seething stare Jimin had centered around his best friend only a week ago, Taehyung had managed a look of anguish instead.

Jungkook didn't know where to place that information, the thought of them looking for him. But then why hadn't they just cast a spell? A tracer. Hells, they could've just followed the red soul string connecting them if they had wanted to. It wasn't and never had been impossible to find him.

Taehyung twisted to face him, steely, determined eyes nearly taking his breath away. "I'm not saying this to guilt you, Jungkook. I just—I want you to know. Know that there wasn't a day you were out there where I wasn't looking for you." There was an unyielding tone to Taehyung's words as if daring Jungkook to disagree.

"Years we searched the media for any sign of your apprenticeship. But nothing, you were just—gone." Taehyung went on, an almost reminiscing look casting over his gaze.

Distantly, birds sang, chatting and flitting through the air. Taehyung sighed, scrunching up his face before meeting Jungkooks. "We fucked up!—more than just that—we royally screwed up everything good in our lives."

Jungkook felt a bubble of protest stuck in his throat because that couldn't be true. It just couldn't. They fucked up, yes. But Jungkook hadn't been that quintessential to their coven; they had moved on without him. How far would they have gone still if he hadn't shown up on orientation day?

As if sensing his straying thoughts, Taehyung reached over and grabbed one of his icy hands. Weakly, Jungkook could still make out the now unfamiliar tingles the touch of a soulmate provided. "Jungkook-ah," Taehyung called out softly.

"Jungkook, you don't have to forgive us." When had Taehyung garnered the ability to look so vulnerable? Where had the turbulent man of his youth gone? It nearly pained him to look up at Taehyung to meet his soft, pleading features for longer than he already had.

"Losing you," he began again, looking out onto the lake briefly as the swan swam closer to them before subsequently passing them by. "Was the greatest mistake I ever made."

The handing holding his squeezed, and Jungkook wasn't sure whether or not he wanted to pull away or not. "I'll be the first to admit it. One year is what I get with you," and for a second Jungkook's heart sank before he realized that the Veils program only lasted so long.

Suddenly, Taehyung's warm eyes were back on him. "But don't think that I—we won't spend every minute of it trying to make up for those mistakes."

A silence stretched between them as Jungkook searched Taehyungs face for any integrity, or perhaps anything to promote the opposite. Softly, Taehyung began to chuckle. Letting go of Jungkook's warmed hand to comb his hair back, breathing deeply to relieve the phantom pressure that had settled over the older witch. "Big words, huh?" He mused, trying to lighten the mood.

"I'll prove it to you, I—"

"Why didn't you just follow our bond?" Jungkook interrupted stubbornly as he looked up at Taehyung. But the pure confusion that met him somewhat derailed him. Taehyung's eyebrows had pulled together as the other now searched his face for signs.

"What?" The unease settling in his gut made him feel antsy; why did Taehyung look so confused?

"Jungkook," Taehyung's voice cut through the tension between them.

"Your soul-string faded away after you left."

19 notes · View notes

yoongsisbae · 2 years ago

Text

V is for Villain 2/3

What does it mean to be a villain? What does it really mean to be a vigilante? A vanquisher of evil or a victor for the good? Stories praise the fall of devils, cheer at the marvels of the virtuous, and forget the victorious tell a version conveniently veiling their own atrocities. Evilness was once the brightest star in heaven. And goodness, well, morality can so often be contentious. This time, there is the hero with the strength of a hundred men, there is the villain that can vanish his vulnerabilities in a very instant, and then there’s you.

PART 1 HERE. Superhero/Super Villain AU. Taehyung x y/n x Namjoon love triangle (or rhombus if you wanna count Yoongi :P) Continuation to Your Friendly Neighborhood Superhero, RM.

Warnings: love-hate relationship, soft yandere tae, smut, dubcon, exhibitionism, oral, shower sex, rough sex, police brutality, attempted SA, violence, unhinged y/n

Word Count: 17.8k

---

You look down at the ground quickly approaching. Namjoon isn’t going to reach you. You smile, just knowing he tried was enough.

Namjoon screams your name. He will always be your hero no matter what.

You look up in his direction again and hold out your hand, manipulating the air in an attempt to slow him down, all the times he produced craters when trying for a soft landing replaying in your mind, but the super powered hero is flying too quickly, cutting right through your efforts, desperate to get to you.

You shut your eyes.

This is going to hurt.

Jungkook side swipes you, knocking the air out of your lungs as you disappear right before Namjoon’s eyes.

How many craters has it been? Add one more to the tally.

---

You catch your breath, finally sitting up. “Is V not coming?” Jungkook hopped you immediately to Yoongi and Jin, the four of you all falling to the ground like bowling pins at the impact. Jungkook has a knack for strikes.

“He needs an alibi, he is going to be answering questions with the press.”

You huff, Taehyung should be here too, it’s his damn narrative. “Ready?” Yoongi asks the group, his eyes narrowing in on you.

Yoongi reveals his cell, showing off a map with a dozen large dots moving through the streets. “I don’t know if I can take anymore of this,” Jungkook whines wearily.

“You know, all this ended up being perfect practice for hopping into a moving location, yeah?” All three men glare at you. “Err no?”

Jungkook psyches himself up, jumping up and down. “Argh okay!”

“After that, a speeding vehicle can’t be that hard. Just don’t hop us inside of anyone,” Jin teases, grabbing onto the teleporter.

“WHAT. That’s a thing?! He’s done that?” you ask, horrified, pulling your hand back, unwilling to grab onto Jungkook.

“No!” Jungkook yells. “Okay, well, it wasn’t a person. I-I was a kid. Dammit, why did you have to remind me, Jin!”

You gag. A doe-eyed young Jungkook covered from head-to-toe in animal carcass like some tiny serial killer was not something you wanted to imagine at all. Jin laughs at you.

“Jungkook, c’mon, me and y/n got you,” Yoongi reassures as Jungkook concentrates on the map, anxiety and strain clearly present on his features.

“Me too!” Jin says. You grab Jin’s hand and place your other hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “Yeah bunny, let’s hop, we got you,” you repeat, winking as you and Yoongi send energy into your teleporting friend.

Jungkook focuses, imagines the streets, the cars, the very exact target rolling down the highway, passing an intersection. With Jin’s help and his powers tapping into the target’s mind, and Jungkook’s overactive imagination, Jungkook can visualize everything so perfectly. It takes only a few seconds to really see…feel the differences between here and there, now and then.

So much in the world to see yet Jungkook can’t be in two places at a time, however two places at a moment's notice? That, he is excellent at!

There’s so much energy whirling around your group, Jungkook vanishes you all in a crackle of electricity.

‘What have you gotten yourself into, y/n.’ Namjoon thinks, zooming to your location.

He found you just in time to see you vanish. And then, like a lightning bolt himself, RM flies into the sky.

---

“Ahh!”

You couldn’t blame their frightful fits, four hooded figures appearing out of thin air like a demon quartet inside the politician’s special armored vehicle would make even the most hardened armed guards yell out of surprise.

“Pull over!” he yells to his driver.

“I c-can’t!” his driver yells back, desperately pulling on the steering wheel that’s locked into position, stomping on brakes that have no more give. Yoongi smirks, in the passenger’s seat. He runs his fingers over the car’s dash, revving the engine. “The car is not going to listen to you.”

Guns are drawn, but the triggers have already been locked by you.

Click.

Click Click Click.

This is the most uncomfortable ride of your life sans murder attempt, you’re squished in between Jungkook and Jin, practically in their laps. “I’m just gonna-” you wiggle your fingers in front of you and everyone’s weapons land in the laps of the men beside you, who each grab their favorite and put the safety switches back off, smirking.

His secretary tries to dial the emergency number on her cell but thanks to Yoongi, the cell tower has decided not to respond. You freeze everyone’s limbs in the caravan, making things easier.

“I heard rumors of this city, but I can’t believe it's real,” the mayor stutters, body locked and his eyes bulging.

“Rumors, what kind?” you ask, intrigued.

“Super…villains.”

“Eh?!”

“Get it done,” Yoongi grunts, watching the other dots on his cell move throughout the city.

“Hello Mayor,” Jin speaks. “I’m glad I could catch an audience with you before you left our beautiful city. Seeing as we both share an invested interest in our neighboring habitats, as you demonstrated at today’s rally,” he says, landing a hand on his shoulder and the politician’s eyes glaze over, “this will only take a moment.”

Everyone else stares at your group like the undead, it creeps you out. so you shut their eyes, pulling off your hood. “This thing is itchy, I hate it.”

“We should wear eye masks instead,” Jungkook suggests.

“No masks!” You and Yoongi speak in unison.

“All good!” Jin says cheerfully as he removes his hand.

“He’s pissing himself.” Jungkook complains.

“Ew!” you groan, the smell of pee filling the confined space.

“They do that most of the time, don’t they?” Yoongi grimaces.

“These guys are so old it's amazing they have any control of their bladders,” Seokjin huffs.

“Can’t you, like, stop it,” Jungkook whines at you.

“Ew! No way!” you retort back. “What did you do to him?” you ask, the politician’s eyes still look unfocused and scared, shell-shocked.

“Just had a nice long chat,” Jin says, which didn’t make any sense to you, barely a minute had passed, but you guess it was another one of Jin’s mind games he likes to play. “We worked out a great deal! Right?” Jin warns. The petrified man in front of you can’t really move without your permission, but he squeaks out a small sound of agreement.

“Like I explained, we don’t want to hurt you. We just want your support,” he says, patting the politician’s knee. “But we can hurt you.”

You tighten his tie with your powers, constricting the politician's throat with his own party colors.

“And find you, wherever you go.” Jin’s voice drops to a lower register and it has a terrifying effect.

Terrifying and sexy, you think. The mind reader rarely acts this serious. It’s a hot look on him. You truly hope Jin is too busy to pay attention to your next thoughts. Jin leans back and puts his arm over your shoulder, dashing your hopes.

“Ready?” Jungkook asks, turning around to peer at Yoongi’s map once more.

The car stops abruptly. So abruptly everyone is thrown forward and backward, but you have the forethought to catch your bodies before any damage happens.

You turn around, ready to yell at Yoongi for the abrupt stop and see dark brown eyes, a determined scowl, and RM standing with his hands on the front hood.

“I know we can count on your support,” Jin warns.

“How the hell did he find us?”

“Your damn earrings!” Yoongi yells.

“Don’t blame me!” you pout. “You said you took out the trackers!”

“I did! So why is there one in there?!” Yoongi yells back, realizing the new devices installed.

“Maybe RM put them back in during one of your little sleep overs,” Seokjin whispers in your ear.

“Your what?”

“J-Jungkook now!” you yell.

In a coordinated effort you all reach for one another, hands interlocking and disappearing right as RM crashes his fist into the windshield.

The chase is on.

Roads are backed up, city traffic is worse than usual while everyone tries to leave the arena, and driving a couple blocks is taking five times longer than usual.

But RM can fly.

And JK can move through space and time.

It takes mere minutes between targets. Though, the time you experience dreading RM causing another commotion while waiting on Jin really feels like an eternity.

Ugh, you wish Namjoon didn’t have to wreck every car he managed to track you guys to. He’s really blowing the whole point of this plot, discreetness has gone out the window, or rather his fist is going through the window, and the convoy of police vehicles already surrounding the rather important politician is realizing the enemy had already snuck inside their barrier, turning their sights and guns to the scene.

What will the media say this time? No one was supposed to see you guys or know what you were up to! That was the whole point of this crazy plan, but with RM plans rarely go smoothly. At least part of your plans are succeeding, you think, as the man in front of you agrees over and over again he will be cooperative to Jin.

You pull your hood down lower, concealing your eyes.

“This is the last one, isn’t it? Still need me?” you whisper to Jungkook.

“Uhh yeah, you’re kind of crucial to us not being killed,” Jungkook whispers back.

“You have the guns, though,” you retort.

On cue RM pulls the car door off its hinges, grabbing the closest hooded figure out of the car.

Unfortunately, it’s Jungkook, and the teleporter hops out of his clothes, a new trick he’s learned after dealing with RM.

A very bare chested Jungkook appears right back where he was, hair disheveled and only a mask covering his mouth and identity now. Thank god for Yoongi no cameras are able to catch any identifying tattoos, and you are surprised to see the young teleporter has a lot.

You all reach for him in unison, hands landing on his skin. You and Jin have the same idea, both grabbing a handful of pec...and squeezing.

But RM is not to be underestimated! He wanted to stop you all, but more than that, he wanted to catch you...red-handed.

A small little device was all it took. Namjoon; who has studied up and read every book he could find on electricity, using his intellect instead of his power to try to defeat you this time, with his newfound alone time he started to make devices that might finally help him counter-attack your friends’ infuriating powers; he sets off one of those devices right inside the vehicle.

Jungkook is stunned, quite literally unable to move through the currents shocking his system.

Yoongi is overwhelmed, and by the time it is going to take him to figure out a translation to the new handmade device, with every shockwave he is experiencing, it might be too late!

You, however, could see a solution even if every shock clouded your vision.

You can’t speak, you can barely move, the stunning was impressively strong. You might have been shocked into a stupor, but in your mind, communication with Jin was perfect.

‘Jungkook!’

‘Hey…JUNGKOOK.’

At a time like this Jungkook didn’t know whether he should be grateful or cursing the fact that all he could think about was Jin’s voice instead of his friends and family and everyone he was about to let down getting so publicly arrested.

‘Jungkookie, hop us!’

‘DO YOU THINK I WASN’T TRYING?!’ Jungkook thinks back. But due to the untouchable electricity Jungkook couldn’t concentrate on even hopping himself, much less everyone else.

‘No, hop everything! Hop the entire damn car!’

THE CAR THAT WAS CURRENTLY FUCKING UP HIS POWERS? Jin wants Jungkook to bring it along for the ride, err well make it the ride? Hasn’t Jungkook done enough?! The teleporter’s inner monologue rivals the self-pity of a Greek Tragedy hero.

There is a pretty blue glow all around him, the electricity taking on a familiar trait.

Yoongi’s.

Jungkook can hear strained cries coming from you. The shocks multiplying to a painfully strong degree as the device is supercharged.

Actually it doesn't really hurt, it kind of feels like a massage, all the energy is making Jungkook feel good...powerful.

“SHIT!” Hoseok yells.

Jimin cries out, falling off his chair.

The device in the car goes haywire for a second, before completely dudding out.

You all topple out of the vehicle, reorienting yourselves with the help of Hoseok and Jimin. You grab Jungkook, stumbling with him to the rear of the caravan.

“You h-have to take it back. The caravan!”

“I can’t,” Jungkook groans, feeling sick.

You lean against his back, hugging him tightly, exhausted from using your powers to such magnitudes, and even still doing so to keep the targets frozen. “You have to,” you squeeze Jungkook, healing and powering up the teleporter one last time-

Namjoon blinks. ‘It’s invisible? Did V- No, it’s gone.’

Oh, now it’s back.

He circles the vehicle, finding you and Jungkook sprawled on the ground.

You’re lying face down, passed out over the teleporter, who shifts and tries to kick his feet away from the advancing and furious superhero. Red lasers land on Jungkook’s bare chest-

The tires deflate, hit by the bullets that would have gone through you and Jungkook if the teleporter hadn’t disappeared at that exact moment-

Namjoon stands frozen. ‘S-She’s not dead, Jungkook teleported before she could have gotten hit,’ he thinks.

You’re not dead...you’re not dead...you wouldn’t dare...

He recollects himself, focusing back on the caravan as police descend around him. He looks inside the vehicle, where a group of scared personnel and one positively petrified politician sit...and no one else. “Are you okay?! Tell me what they did to you, I can try and help-”

“Nothing! N-Nothing, they didn’t do anything,” he swallows.

The neighboring city’s mayor stumbles out of the car, screeching at his confused security. “Goddammit, what do I pay you all for?!” Namjoon watches him berate everyone, trying to gain the power he had momentarily been stripped of.

“I can help you,” Namjoon says slow and reassuringly as if her were talking to a temper tantrum-ing child. “If you explain what happened, I can stop them.” Namjoon was frustratingly hitting dead ends as no politician would let him in on what your group was doing, and if there was no crime to report...

“Mayor! Please listen-”

“I-If you’re gonna stop them, then s-stop them! Otherwise leave m-me out of it!”

Namjoon clenches his jaw, eyeing one security guard who looks like he’s on the verge of quitting...

---

“Today is the worst day of my life.”

“What about that time you teleported your hand through a fence and we had to take you to the hospital?”

“Or the time you teleported to that volcano?”

“It was inactive,” Hoseok reminds Jimin.

“Excuse me, the worst day of your life? Did you get shot?” you grunt. Jungkook holds up his arm angrily. “That’s just a graze.”

“Yours is just a graze.”

“Mine is deeper,” you pull Hoseok’s hand away, and blood gushes out from the cut across your hip. “Ow ow ow! See!”

“Can’t you heal it?” Hoseok asks, holding the compress to your side.

“God, I have to do everything around here!” you whine. “I’m tired!” You would still be passed out if you hadn’t woken up from the excruciating pain.

“Should we take them to a doctor?” Yoongi asks Jin.

“Ehh they seem to be okay?” The two oldest watch as the others dote on you and Jungkook, the both of you making convincing arguments as to why you need to be carried in Hoseok’s arms to the couch and why Jungkook needs Jimin to hand-feed him food.

---

You stretch, waking up from your nap, delicately removing yourself from Hoseok’s and Yoongi’s embrace, and finding the teleporter eating his third bowl of ramen. “Jungkook, hop me to RM!”

“What? Are you crazy? That last time he looked ready to kill me!”

“I will actually kill you if you d-”

“Y/n, I need to debrief with you,” Taehyung calls out to you, entering the quarters.

Oh there he is, so untraumatized from the whole day’s ordeal, you can’t help but glare at him. “Can’t Jin-”

“No,” Taehyung says sternly, “You, y/n.”

You cross your arms, deciding in which direction you should hurl Taehyung away from you. He crosses his arms too, standing tall, stepping into your space.

“Alright,” you huff, rolling your eyes. He’s lucky you find the authoritative look so hot. You glance at the mind reader, he better not be listening to you. You bump Taehyung’s shoulder as you head for his room, not wanting to wake the others.

“What I don’t understand is how RM found you all so fast?” he asks rhetorically, leaning against his work desk after you explained everything (well, clearly not everything), the two of you alone in his old small office quarters. You stay quiet. “What did I say about wearing those earrings on missions-”

“‘Y/n, don’t wear those earrings on missions,’” you lower your voice as low as you can, mimicking Taehyung’s deep timber.

Taehyung’s eyebrow twitches. You cross your arms. “I didn’t know! If you’re going to blame someone, blame Yoongi! Tech is his specialty, is it not?”

“It doesn’t change the fact that you and Jungkook almost died, because of RM. I can’t stop thinking about what would have happened if Jungkook had waited only a second longer-”

You wanted to argue with him, tell him people almost die all the time. That technically it wasn’t RM’s fault, it was Taehyung’s fault for making you all do this in the first place, and that Taehyung has no right to look at you with those accusing eyes of his, just because you weren’t going to stop wearing the present Namjoon gave you. How were you supposed to know he was going to put the trackers back in while you were sleeping, it was kind of impressive actually-

“Everything could have been ruined-”

“You have the support,” you argue. “What more do you want?”

Taehyung runs a hand through his hair, glancing over at you...you, he wants to say. But the way his eyes refuse to look away says enough, making you feel guilty. You decide to change the subject.

“They are catching on though...” you murmur, moving closer to him. “About our powers. We all have to be even more careful.”

“Let them talk, they should feel a little fear. It’s all rumors still. Nothing will hit the news circuit, I will make sure of it.”

“And what if it does come back to you, dear Mayor,” you cross your arms, spitting out the title. “Isn’t that what you have been trying to avoid, by making us do all the dirty work?”

Taehyung smiles at you rather than matching your ire. He pulls off his tie and jacket, removing the stuffy formal clothes. “I appreciate that you help me...us...that you do this for us. Even if you are...compromised,” he says begrudgingly. “You kept my friends alive, and that means more to me...”

‘If he thinks touching your cheek like that and giving you those eyes is going to smooth things over, he’s wrong!’ you think, annoyed and flustered from the attention. You smack his hand away. “My money? You also owe me for fixing the floor...and the table,” you add, looking over at the newly cleaned hide out space after the “car crash” that happened inside.

“Done.” You turn to leave but Taehyung pulls you back. “Before you go running off into the night…” He stops, holding your attention, “...I wanted to show you something.”

He goes over to his desk, pulling out a file, and showing you a bunch of complicated diagrams, but you get the gist of it. Compared to all the other cities, recycling is up, pollution is down, renewable energy use is up, violent crime is down, it's all very impressive data for such a big industrial city. “I just wanted to remind you...why we had to do that...we are doing good-”

“I know that,” you frown, sighing. “I’m not the one you have to convince.”

You don’t have to say his name, Taehyung already knows who you’re talking about. You won’t seem let it go...him go. You desperately want RM on your side.

Taehyung sighs. You sit in his leather chair, putting your feet up on his desk, looking through the figures again, humming. It does make you happy to see the city so drastically improving, Taehyung doesn't have to know that though (you threaten Seokjin just in case he’s listening).

“How are you and Yoongi?” You catch Taehyung looking at your legs.

“Me and Yoongi? I am great, Yoongi is great. Why don’t you ask Yoongi?” You stiffen. Actually, he seemed pretty upset at you...

Taehyung laughs, “Funny, he said basically the same thing.”

“Well, he’s my favorite for a reason,” you speak apathetically, worried Taehyung will try to use him against you like he does with everything else.

Taehyung smirks down at you knowingly. You cross your arms, wheeling your chair around “Is there anything else before I go, Mayor?”

Taehyung scoffs, leaning over you until you’re caged in, his hands pressing down on the chair’s armrests. He looks down at you, serious, no sly smile or hint of playfulness anymore.

“You really like throwing that in my face. You know, when The Mayor died, because of you by the way, we all decided I was going to run,” he gestures to the cracked door, where you can hear the others argue over...food? Again?! “Do you think I enjoy being in the limelight like this, every little thing I do being scrutinized for everyone to see?”

His face is too close to you, his eyes watch you like he’s peering through you…inside you. “I think you do, and so what? You’re good at it.” You compliment him to smooth down the tension. It's also true, Taehyung is ridiculously charismatic when he wants to be, and great at convincing people to do what he wants, he convinced you...and maybe you hold it against him, the way you always seem to help him get exactly what he wants. Especially when he says things like...

“I feel like you hate me now...” he laughs, unable to hide his sadness and making you feel guilty in the process. “Is it because I keep beating your superhero?”

You break eye contact first, scoffing, following the lines of his jaw down, the top two buttons of Taehyung’s shirt now undone, giving you a glimpse of his chest. By now you are used to everyone else being in your personal space, but not Taehyung.

It feels...different when he gets so close to you. It feels forbidden.

Maybe Joon’s disdain for V affects you more than you want to admit-

“I don’t hate you...” you swallow, leaning back as he gets closer. “I...I...just don’t like you.” You decide it’s easier to keep Taehyung at a distance, so you lie. You don’t trust him, or yourself, when you’re around him.

Taehyung stares at you in surprise. “You liar!” he laughs.

“Go ask Jin then!” you challenge, you know Jin is going to tell him you’re lying, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t made it confusing. Taehyung huffs, and then vanishes before your eyes. You barely caught a glimpse of the anger in his expression, now unsure whether you witnessed it at all.

You try to stand up but Taehyung hasn't actually left, and you bump into him. “You want to know why I don’t like you?” you ask, pushing against his chest. “I know you have Yoongi keeping tabs on me, Jungkook watching me, even Jimin following me acting like a stray, like it’s a crime to want to leave, like I’m not allowed to be on my own. Taehyung…I am never ever going to stop wanting to see my friend!”

You feel Taehyung’s hot breath against the shell of your ear when he whispers, “I’m trying to keep you from getting hurt, y/n. Namjoon is going to hurt you. He always hurts you. It may not always be like today, where we can see it,” you can feel his hand nudge carefully against your healing scar, “but we can all tell you’re hurting...”

Somehow that last part stings worse than your injury.

His invisibility powers makes Taehyung more confident, daring, adding, “I would never hurt you like that.”

“You say that now…but your powers can’t show the future,” you say quietly. “I-I just want to take my money and go-”

“Go where, to Kim Namjoon?! Dammit y/n, you think he’s going to be happy to see you after today…”

“Why are you being like this?!”

“Because I can’t stop! I can’t stop worrying about you…thinking about you…caring about you...” You feel something soft graze your jaw.

You stay quiet, biting your tongue. You can’t see Taehyung, but it’s like you can feel him everywhere. The chair tilts as he moves himself against you, your arms and legs bumping into his body as you try to balance yourself. You’re not sure what you’re touching but it’s hard and muscled and warm and makes your breath hitch.

You knew Taehyung had grown a particular liking to you for your powers, and you also knew he was a big flirt, but sometimes his honeyed words would catch you off guard, make you wonder if the sweetness oozing from his lips was genuine, and you would have to catch yourself from wanting a taste.

“I’m okay, Taehyung,” you say under your breath, “You don’t have to worry.”

Taehyung appears right in front of you, startling you how close he really was to you, lips right next to yours. “No, ‘Mayor’? Looks like we’re making progress, y/n.” He smirks, his smirk quickly turning into a smile.

You scoff. “You are such a little brat. What do you really want from me, Kim Taehyung?”

“What I’ve always wanted,” he glances down at your lips. “Just you.” The back of his fingers run along your chin. “For once, don’t go to him and stay with me tonight?”

Namjoon liked to tell you how ruthless, how dangerous and evil Taehyung is. Part of you wanted to believe Namjoon…to actually hate Taehyung, it would make things so much easier if you could see what Namjoon sees. But you don’t. So what if he’s opportunistic and vengeful, or willing to do anything to win? Taehyung is a lot like you.

---

You finish showering, wiping the condensation off your mirror. Scalding water felt the best, and tonight, you needed the hot steam and soothing lavender soap to calm you down.

“Jimin! I forgot my towel!”

Jimin brings you a towel in his mouth, having shifted into a small brown dachshund. He shakes his tail happily at you. You know your roommate only stays with you so Taehyung can keep tabs on you, but Jimin is so damn cute when he transforms! You don’t even mind it! He barks twice before leaving, ugh, he’s adorable!

You went home after talking with Taehyung, deciding you wanted to have a night to yourself after all, feeling confused and worst of all, guilty for passing out at the most inconvenient time and almost getting the teleporter seriously injured.

You pull on a satin pair of pajamas, a lacy trimmed tank top and shorts, turning on your tea kettle to make Jimin and you some hot tea.

You sigh, looking down at dachshund Jimin, “Some watch dog you are,” you mutter, picking him up. He licks your face. “I don’t forgive you, traitor,” you accuse, before dropping him down again.

“I know you’re here, I can feel you,” you yell into your empty apartment. You close your eyes, it’s easier to concentrate that way. Was he by your couch, no, where did that sneak move to?

“What do you think? If I tear your body to pieces while you’re like this do they reanimate or will you just be invisible forever so they’ll never find you?” you threaten.

A loud knock at the door stops your thoughts and you whip your head around. You knew who it was, unfortunately. There was no mistaking the size and strength of the particular grouping of molecules that made up the superhero shaped figure stalking around your door. You definitely had to smooth things out with the tech talker so he could remove the earring tracker again.

Jimin growls behind your back, transformed into the largest Doberman you’ve ever seen. “Oh now you wanna guard me? Go to your room, Jimin!” you hiss.

“And don’t fucking move! Wherever you are!” You whisper at your uninvited guest.

Moving to the door, you open it up to a not so friendly face. Joon stands tall in a sweater and jeans, an annoyed glare behind thick frames.

You look him up and down stopping at his new glasses, “Break another pair?”

He stares at you blankly. Did he come all this way to give you the silent treatment?

You step into the hallway with him, shivering. If there wasn’t a certain moppy headed menace in your new apartment with a vendetta against your ex friend you would have pulled Namjoon in by now, but you couldn’t risk it.

“Were you- Are you okay?” he asks, getting his concerns out of the way.

“I was grazed by a bullet,” you smile meekly.

“What?” Namjoon falters, concern spreading over his features.

“Oh, it was bad,” you tease. “I’m lucky I’m alive.”

“Don’t joke-”

You laugh softly, feeling a little less unburdened over his anger at you. “Well I’m fine now, so don't worry,” you smile. “Did you hurt yourself when you landed?” you reach out to touch his shoulder.

Namjoon grabs your hand before you can touch him, back to business. “I need you to come with me-”

“Are you asking me out?” you joke.

“I need you to come with me and tell every one of those people you hurt that when they go to vote next session, they can vote freely without any fear something will happen to them or their families-”

“We wouldn’t hurt their families...”

“Y/n!”

“If you want me to go with you, I will, but it won’t change their minds,” you argue. “You know it too. Just let this one go, Joon, we beat you this time.”

‘We,’ the way you say it breaks Joon. He shakes his head no, holding your wrist tighter.

The tea kettle starts to whistle. “Did you want some tea?”

“Seriously? You can act like nothing happened, after what they did, what you did to-”

You sigh defeatedly, massaging your brow to stop the forming headache. Why does Taehyung always have to be right, it can be so damn infuriating…

“But you don’t mind when I’m helping you, when you’re using me to undermine The Mayor? Suddenly, it’s okay to be around someone you find so despicable, right?!” you yell, your anger getting the best of you.

Namjoon touches your cheek, turning you to meet his eyes again, letting all the words he wants to say sit on his tongue.

‘I don't think that,’ ‘Do you know how worried I was about you?’ ‘I was losing my mind,’ ‘Please, just stop what you're doing, I will forgive you if you just! stop!’ “Y/n...”

Namjoon grabs your arms, pushing you back inside your apartment. “I know he’s in here with you.”

Well, he was, but not for any weird reason Namjoon was currently processing through right now. “I saw the kettle move. V!”

You look over your shoulder at the silenced kettle. Idiot. But you knew Taehyung was no idiot. You knew he did it on purpose, and that pissed you off even more.

“No-” Namjoon presses, pushing past you. You move in front to stop him, using more than your physical strength to match his own. “It w-was Jimin!”

On cue, a very human Jimin walks out in his boxers, glaring at the superhero. “Y/n, do you need my help?”

“N-No! G-Go put on a shirt!” you hiss, embarrassed at his lack of clothes. You turn back around to face Joon, who is preoccupied, eyes scanning your home for any movement. “Joon...”

Ugh, you just wanted to relax tonight! Screw this! “You know what?! If you want to get back at V, don’t try to change their minds, just make sure they can’t vote.”

“What are you talking about?”

Jimin calls out your name in warning, scanning the room slowly.

You look around your apartment, trying to pinpoint Taehyung, walking around the superhero who follows your movement. “Why do you think we could blackmail them? They’re corrupt, obviously. Expose them if you really want to try and stop us. Get them arre-”

“I think it’s time for you to leave, Namjoon.” Jimin warns, his eyes flashing an intense yellow, pupils shifting into slits, resembling a cat’s eyes.

“Bring her back, V,” Namjoon growls, reaching out to where you just stood, touching only air.

Taehyung’s hand covers your mouth, your kitchen knife held to your throat. You put your hand over his, pulling at his fingers slowly so you can speak.

“Joon, I’m fine, listen to Jimin-”

“Show me!” Namjoon tries to pinpoint where he heard your voice. And to your surprise, Taehyung reveals the pair of you before hiding you once again.

“You really want to piss him off, huh?” you whisper under your breath to Taehyung, laughing bitterly as Namjoon’s shocked expression turns into fury.

“You did it, you compromised us for what? A nod of approval from someone who only ‘uses you’ to undermine me...your words!” He hisses back.

“You use me, you asshole. And maybe I’m tired of being used, so screw you both!”

“Y/N!” Namjoon roars.

Taehyung pushes you into the superhero, letting him see you. “Y-You’re bleeding!” Namjoon looks over your body for any other marks. Jimin’s eyes go wide in surprise, darkening back to his usual color.

“Oh. Yeah,” you wipe the small line of blood off your neck, healing yourself quickly. “See, I’m fine.”

Namjoon holds you tightly. “You’re coming with me-”

“You won’t win that way-”

“W-Well, I’m not leaving you alone with them!”

You laugh, a sudden warmth in your chest returning at the frightful concern in his eyes, “I’ll be okay Joon, trust me,” you hug him suddenly, whispering into his ear, “Go, you’re going to need to work fast if you want to beat us, right?”

‘Us’ again, Namjoon thinks bitterly. Namjoon holds your head in his large hands, rubbing away the smudged blood from your neck. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought he might have kissed you in that moment.

You glare at the spot over Namjoon’s shoulder, lifting your hand away from Joon, a knife reanimates and flies into the kitchen, clanking to the ground close to Jimin, making the shapeshifter yelp. Namjoon tries to punch V, only swinging at air, “I can take care of myself,” you reiterate, shoving Joon away and closing the door shut with your mind as he escapes.

“Okay okay, you can’t blame me for trying to kill him,” Taehyung reanimates in front of you, an apologetic smile on his annoying face.

“You are insufferable. I can’t stand you. You’re the worst-”

“Jimin, wake up Jungkook and tell him he needs to have eyes and ears on our new friends until I can get my bill passed, now it’s going to be out of our jurisdiction so he needs to be careful-”

“-All that bullshit before about being worried about me-”

“-Then in the morning let Yoongi know he needs to monitor any new police record requests-”

Jimin clears his throat. “Y/n, are you okay?” Jimin asks you wearily before Taehyung goes any further.

“Like I said, I’m fine,” you glare at Taehyung when you say it, finally nodding at Jimin and giving him a weak smile to let him know you’re okay. “So what now, asshole? Gonna try and stab me in the back next?”

“Like you did to us? But I know you’ll stop me before anything really happens to you,” Taehyung says a matter-of-factly. “C’mon, you weren’t in any real danger. I would never actually hurt you, obviously.”

You have half a mind to just let him brutally maim you out of spite. The way Jimin ignored him meant he wasn’t too impressed with what Taehyung did to you either, could you turn him against Taehyung for you?

A hawk lands on your shoulder, Jimin’s beak knocking against your jaw, “I’m okay,” you laugh, “He wasn’t actually pressing hard.” Hawk Jimin lands on Taehyung’s shoulder next, ruffling his feathers, listening to the rest of his instructions before leaving out the window.

“Y/n, I’m sorry-”

“I just took a shower,” you whine.

Taehyung wets a wash cloth, cleaning the dried blood off your skin. “I’m sorry,” he repeats. “But I had to think fast, and you left me with little options.”

“And your first thought just had to be kidnapping with a deadly weapon? You drive me crazy.”

Taehyung chuckles, deep, soft, comforting, his fingers delicately working to help you now that Namjoon was gone. Taehyung’s specific type of comfort wasn’t what you really wanted, but it was better than nothing. You glance over at him as he silently works to clean you up.

“I’m not sorry,” you mutter, sulking.

“Oh I know damn well you’re not,” Taehyung mutters too.

“Why did you come here in the first place? I promised you, didn’t I?”

“Looks like it happened anyways...I know I said I would give you space...I...couldn't stay away.” Taehyung looks lost, unsure about what to say next, there’s no confident banter you’re used to from him.

“So needy...” you raise your eyebrow at him. You said it lightly, only teasing him, seeing if you could get him to crack a smile after the intense show down. And he does.

“...and we’re not even dating.”

“Not yet,” he smirks.

“Funny, how about we go a day without trying to kill each other first?”

“I can do that,” he says confidently.

---

Jimin is purring, cuddled against your head as an orange tabby cat. You scratch his ears and he purrs even louder. “Where are we?” This bed is huge and definitely not yours. Jimin stretches his cat body and jumps off the bed, hiding away because he knows you’re going to be mad at the answer.

You quickly put two and two together, noticing the opulence in the room, the only other place you could be was at Mayor Kim’s mansion.

“Where is Jungkook?” you find Taehyung in his study.

“Out cleaning up your mess, why?”

“Because I promised him I would break his fingers if he hopped me without my permission again.”

“I asked him to, so-” Taehyung holds out his palm to you, continuing to write down notes with his other hand.

You should. You really really want to.

“And why did you do that?”

“Because I needed to work.”

You try not to raise your voice with your next question, “And why am I here?”

“Until the bill is passed, you’ll stay with me,” he states, going back to his note taking.

“And why would I agree to that?!” You scream, poise and restraint now long gone.

Taehyung crosses his arms. “Because I can say with a hundred percent certainty you will somehow find a way to mess this up even more if I let you out of my sight.”

His desk begins to shake, the pictures in his office tilting askew. “You think you can keep me here?”

“You’ll do what I say, because I’ll tell the others what you did and as much as you like to pretend you don’t care about what they think of you-”

“Shh.” You hold up a finger, shutting Taehyung’s mouth with your powers.

You look around his office. The decor is tasteful and elegant, expensive antiques and gold finishing. Taehyung fits right in with his dignified demeanor. But you don’t belong here…and you don’t want to.

“Mayor Kim…” you step closer to your immobilized cohort, circling his desk. “You could have just asked nicely.” You take a seat on said desk, crunching the paper under you. You grab the tip of his tie wrapping it one, two, three times around your palm, pulling him closer to you.

“I’ve played along, haven’t I? Don’t make me your enemy.” You finally let your telekinetic hold on Taehyung go.

“RM is the enemy,” he swallows.

“Joon is not my enemy-”

“But he is though, y/n. You can’t be so naïve-” You yank his tie to the side, his head pressing painfully on the wood next to you. He breathes through his teeth, glaring up at you.

“And you’re so wise? Then choose your next words wisely, Taehyung.”

Taehyung grunts, palm flat on your thigh, pressing down as he tries to lift himself up unsuccessfully.

There is really only one man strong enough to fight your power.

His fingers curl into the flesh of your thigh, catching you off guard. “Did you forget our promise to each other?”

You roll your eyes, letting his tie go and crossing your arms. “You’re making it very hard for me to even like you-”

“Not that promise,” he says, fingers still gripping at your thigh. “The one we made to each other the day you asked me to help you kill The Mayor.”

-VOWS-

“Have you ever killed someone before?” Taehyung crosses his arms, looking you up and down. You would have normally faltered under his scrutinizing gaze, but you had let go of your shame in your desperation.

Should you lie? Make him believe you had no reservations. You had a feeling he would be able to see right through your lies even without Seokjin’s assistance. “No.”

Taehyung’s office had high windows and bad lighting, but the moon was full and the blinds were broken. Streaks of moonlight covered the walls of Taehyung’s office, striping the shadows where he stood.

It took you all day to build up the courage to ask Seokjin to take you to see Taehyung. You knew it was going to be no easy task to convince Taehyung and the others with the way Seokjin’s normally cocky demeanor darkened when your initial shock wore off and your intentions were clear.

Taehyung shakes his head. “We’re all going to have targets on our backs if we do this and he doesn’t die. Also, if we do go through with what you want… Y/n, you’re asking us to become murderers-”

“I’m not asking you to! I’m asking you to help me… You help me do this, and I’ll help you.”

“With what?”

“With anything,” you swallow, resolute. “I have to do this. He’s going to…he’s going to hurt Joon if I don’t do something!”

“I know.” Taehyung says impassively, “You know, that would solve all my problems, I won’t have to worry about RM anymore. So what do I even get out of helping you? What is worth putting all of us in danger to save Kim Namjoon?”

You look at him in disbelief. You want to tell Taehyung to go to hell, but you have no idea how to stop The Mayor on your own without getting caught. You need his help. “You brought me here! Why would you kidnap me, have Seokjin show me those things-”

“You’re not listening, so let me ask you again, what will you do for me-”

“What! What do you want?! I said I’d do anything!” Your eyes sting as you blink away tears in your frustration. “Taehyung, please,” you cry.

“Everything. Not anything, from now on, I want you to help us with everything.” He grips your shoulders tight. “Then, I will kill The Mayor for you myself if I have to.”

You swallow, mentally working through Taehyung’s conditions and confession. The way he said it so ardently, you wonder…if Taehyung has killed before. “No, I’ll do it.”

For Namjoon, to protect him, you would do the absolute worst without any regrets.

---

You look down at Taehyung’s long slender fingers, splayed across your thigh, resigning to his touch. “I haven’t forgotten.” You lie back, stretching out your arms, sighing. You are very aware you are making a mess of his carefully stacked memos and you don’t care. “What if I promise to be a good girl from now on? Cross my heart.” You wink, using your powers to move Taehyung’s fingers in an X across your thigh.

He licks his lips, watching as his fingers trace along your skin. “Oh but I know you’re not” Taehyung’s eyes narrow on your sly smile, his fingers moving higher up your thigh. “You like to play the part, but you always end up being…” he coughs, “bad.”

“Maybe,” you say flippantly. “Or maybe you don’t give me much of a choice.” You glare at him.

He leans over his desk and over you, caging you in. “Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it. I’ve watched you torturing people with a smile on your face.”

You sigh, giving up again. “People. People or monsters?”

“You don’t have to defend yourself to me, y/n. That’s why we make a good team,” he smiles, gripping your knee instead and shaking your leg reassuringly. You grind your teeth, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

“I don’t mean to upset you, but…do you think Namjoon would ever give you the same grace? I wish you would see what’s in front of you…”

His hand moves to your cheek, holding you gently. His lips touch yours so softly and leave so quickly the act could barely qualify as a kiss.

Taehyung had been so gentle with you, which made the following brutality hurt even worse.

“If Namjoon knew how you really were, would he think you were a monster? If he saw what I saw that night, and what you did in that room over there,” Taehyung turns your chin so you have to look. The door to the adjoining room is shut and locked. Taehyung keeps the small study room closed, because even he can barely stomach the memory. “Would he touch you like this?” his lips press against your cheek.

“Jimin,” you grunt, cuddling the napping feline close to you. “Turn back into a human, please, I...need you.” Jimin transforms, his limbs tangling around yours, pulling you into an embrace.

“You know Tae is not as bad as you think he is, he’s helped me so many times, give him a chance to prove himself-”

“Bad…good…I don’t care, right now he’s being a pain in my ass,” you mumble, burying your head in Jimin’s chest where it’s warm and cozy and his steady heartbeat calms you down.

“Why do you hate him so much?” Jimin chuckles.

“If I hated him, would I still be here?” you mumble, resting against him.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Jimin holds you tighter when you shake, breath catching in your throat. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” you don’t want to think about it and confirm your worst fears. “Can I ask you something?” you ask, looking for a distraction, perhaps some blackmail. Jimin turns his head, waiting. “Why V?”

“Why do we follow V?”

“No.” You remember the purple spray paint etched across the bank door, back when you and Namjoon were inseparable. “Why the name, V?”

Jimin laughs, sighing, “Well-”

“How’s it back home?” Taehyung asks as Jungkook and Yoongi reappear with a week’s supply of homemade food in their arms, a gift from Jungkook’s mother.

“It’s getting worse,” Yoongi sighs. “Some parts can’t even cook with it.”

‘It,’ being their town’s water supply. Yoongi and Jungkook just finished their weekly trip to drop off cases of water to their families and friends. “And if that new bill goes through…I don’t even want to think about it.”

“Well, you are thinking about it, quite loudly,” Seokjin interjects, rubbing his eyes.

The group sits quietly together. “Should we try another petition?” Hoseok suggests, optimistic.

Everyone knows it won’t work. They all knew what had to be done, but Taehyung was the only one courageous enough to say it.

“No…” Taehyung sighs, glancing over at Jin, knowing he could see the idea he had in mind. “We’ve tried it their way, now let’s do it our way.”

Jungkook cracks his knuckles. “What did you have in mind?”

Suddenly Seokjin laughs, gathering everyone’s attention. “This guy not only wants us to kidnap The Mayor, he wants us to rob a bank and blow up the courthouse.”

“Blow it up?!”

“Wait, rob a bank? Like…bank robbers?”

“Me and Jungkook have discussed it before,” Taehyung says, shrugging. “We can do it…with your help, Yoongi.” Taehyung turns to the tech talker, who seems to be mulling the idea over.

“But The Mayor, you really think we can get away with it? It’s-”

“Dangerous.” Seokjin finishes Jungkook’s thought.

“Dangerous and high-profile. I thought we are supposed to be keeping a low-profile,” Jimin reminds them.

“We’ve tried everything else,” Taehyung interjects. “Haven’t we? Maybe it’s time we make a scene.”

“And if we get caught….you’re asking us to commit about seven different felonies,” Seokjin says.

“The Mayor is too risky,” Jimin interjects again.

“We can do this! Jin?” he asks Seokjin, hoping for backup.

“I’m definitely not The Mayor’s biggest fan, but this…”

“You’ve looked through his mind, tell me if there is another way to convince him.” Jin rubs his jaw, stretching his neck, thinking it over. “This is for our families too, not just us this time. This is a chance to really make a difference. A huge difference!” Taehyung tries to convince him.

“If anything goes wrong-”

“Then Jungkook and I will get you out, no matter what, right?” Taehyung catches the youngest’s gaze and he nods.

He looks around the group, adding. “Just like any other time. We can do this.”

“This is not like any other time,” Jimin whines.

“We were almost arrested at the last protest.” Taehyung says bitterly. “They want us to be criminals so badly, so why don’t we?”

Hoseok crosses his arms. “You’re asking us to be a little more than criminals-”

“I’m in.” Yoongi speaks first, surprising everyone.

“I’m in,” Seokjin adds immediately after, coughing. “I try not to hold people’s thoughts against them, but…” He looks around the room, “Taehyung’s right, The Mayor only cares about money, he’s not going to change his mind.”

Taehyung tries to hide his smile unsuccessfully. “They think they have all the power. But the six of us here? We have real power, we just have to be willing to use it against them.”

“You forget…RM…” Jimin adds. “What if he gets involved?”

“Against all of us? Six against one? He’ll never see us coming!”

“But he’s a superhero,” Jungkook says with a mixture of awe and worry. “How are we supposed to beat him?”

“We’ll we’re– uh,” Taehyung falters. “We have super powers too, don’t we?” Taehyung sighs. “RM and The Mayor have control of this city, but they don’t know it like us, we’re in the streets every day.”

“What are you saying?”

Seokjin laughs quietly, breaking the silence, “...I’m not wearing a cape.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen, “You want us to be superheroes?”

“No,” Seokjin says, staring at Taehyung.

“No,” Taehyung says. “They’ll never see us as heroes.” He sighs, leaning back.

Hoseok frowns. Jungkook nervously taps his foot and Yoongi crosses his arms. Jimin looks around the room at everyone’s solemn expressions and Seokjin laughs, breaking the tension.

“We’re going to be super-”

“-Villains.” Seokjin finishes.

“I’ll be their villain. I’ll be, V.” Taehyung adds, “So will you help me?”

Seokjin tsks, “RM vs. V? I’ll put some money on that. But I guess first we’re gonna have to steal it.”

“Tell us your plan, then, V.” Hoseok crosses his arms.

“Yeah, V.” Jungkook chimes in, laughing. And everything goes back to normal for the time being.

“Hmmm.” You play with Jimin’s fingers, “Not super subtle, is it? And you all just agreed?”

“Yeah, we all agreed eventually, wouldn’t you?” he smiles.

You roll your eyes. Well knowing what you know now about The Mayor, it wasn’t even a question! But…

“You’re loyal,” you look at Jimin, watching as his eyes slowly shift colors. “I can respect that.” You add, “Do you ever regret it?”

“Hmm,” Jimin stretches, crossing his arms behind his head. “Nah. We all…had a difficult time growing up. Now I’m sleeping in the Mayor’s mansion with a pretty girl next to me,” he jokes. “Even if this all blows up in our faces, it was worth it.”

“You don’t mind the whole world seeing you as a ‘villain’?” you ask, trying to keep your own anxious feelings down.

“The people I love don’t see me like that.”

You frown. You wish you could say the same thing…

Jimin realizes his mistake. “We all think you’re pretty badass. I’m glad you’re on our side,” he soothes. “Listen…” He sighs, wondering if he should mention the superhero, eventually deciding to continue, “I think Namjoon will eventually-”

You scoff, “I don’t wanna talk about him, just...don’t let go.” You move closer into Jimin’s arms.

You didn’t want to think about Taehyung or Namjoon or anyone right now. You just wanted to be hugged.

“This is a panic room, not a lounge.”

“Well, you’re keeping me here like a damn prisoner, I thought I should play the part,” you dismiss, looking over the multiple camera displays with an idealistic hope you might catch a glimpse of your superhero in the sky.

“I brought in a private chef the other day-”

“I have work, you know-”

“You are always complaining about wanting a vacation!”

“Yeah, to like, The Bahamas!” you whine.

Taehyung sighs. You sigh even louder.

“How about this, I’ll take you out, I’ve been so busy with drafting proposals, I haven’t had a chance to get out either. We could go out for drinks?”

“Aren’t you worried about being recognized?”

Taehyung smiles.

You know Taehyung has to hold your hand so his powers could make you invisible too, but it still feels like his fingers interlocked with yours means something more…

You did however enjoy the feeling of weaving through bodies undetected, walking down the street together completely undetectable to the naked eye.

“How are you doing?” you ask him.

“I could do this all night,” he smiles, looking in your direction. You stifle a laugh. “Seriously, lately I haven’t had a chance to use my powers. Before, I used to be invisible all the time.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I felt more myself when I was.”

You guess you could relate in some ways. Growing up, you would avoid your powers like a plague, constantly afraid Namjoon would notice or that you might even lose control. But now that you freely use your powers, it feels like a relief, like you had been holding your breath all this time and you can finally fully breathe.

You still have those anxious thoughts every now and then, but it’s gotten better the longer you’ve been around Taehyung’s group.

“Saw that.”

“What?” you play coy, eating the fried dough you swiped from the food cart you and Taehyung just passed by. Taehyung sighs, stopping and pulling out some bills, dropping the money under the cart.

“Look at you,” you eye him, “Is this the same man who stole an entire suitcase full of jewelry?” you rib.

“That’s different, to someone like him, the value of losing a sale is worth more and I can afford to pay him.”

You stuff the remaining fried dough in your mouth. “Mhmm, not to that jeweler. Let’s go look at the lights!” You pull Taehyung along, running towards the water, a place in the city that has a nightly light display to music.

You want to get closer, but the crowd makes it impossible, it’s already hard enough to dodge people without causing a disturbance and freaking out the people around you. Taehyung holds you from behind as you reluctantly move further away to avoid suspicion. “Should I unmask us so you can see?”

“Hmm I could use my powers and-” You use your powers to defy gravity, as you and Taehyung’s body start to rise.

His grip around you tightens, “Ahh no no.”

You laugh, letting your powers waiver so your heels drop back down. “What, scared of flying?”

“Scared of heights,” Taehyung winces.

“Ooh, now I know one of your weaknesses,” you tease.

Taehyung scoffs, “Here, get that for me,” Taehyung gestures to a man standing close, looking at his hat, which at the precise moment blows away in the “wind.” You catch it easily as the man looks around for his missing hat. Taehyung thanks you and puts the cap on and pulls it down over his eyes before revealing himself and you.

“C’mon, let’s go.” He pulls you this time, guiding you into the crowd so you can see the lights better.

“Are you sure this is okay? What if someone recognizes you?” you whisper.

He leans in closer to you, head over your shoulder. “I’m not worried, I have a more than capable bodyguard right here.

You laugh, “Alright, if you say so,” you smile, letting him hug you from behind. This is the closest you and him have ever been, and even though you have the perfect view of the lights, it’s hard to pay attention with Taehyung wrapped around you so tightly, his hot breath hitting your cheek.

“You okay?” Of course Taehyung wouldn’t give you the luxury of ignoring your body’s traitorous responses. “Your heart is pounding.” His arms move up higher against your torso, pressing up against your breasts. “Excited?” he says teasingly.

“I haven’t seen the lights in awhile, so yeah,” you dismiss, turning your head upwards to the sky.

Taehyung chuckles, enjoying the moment.

“Y/n, I like you,” Taehyung whispers in your ear.

“Do you say that to all the girls that help you overthrow an election?”

“I liked you way before that.”

“Sure, you did,” you dismiss.

“Do you even remember when we were in school?”

“Of course I remember you.”

“No you really don’t. You were always too busy with Namjoon to notice anyone else.” Taehyung sighs. “Maybe you would have noticed I liked you then.”

“What? Don’t lie to me.”

“I did!” he defends himself, “You really don’t remember, do you?”

It was true Taehyung never bullied you like your other classmates, but he was just being kind, wasn’t he?

“You were like me, different. Even before our powers. And I liked the way you never backed down to others. I wanted to be like you. I tried to be your friend-”

“That’s not true,” you turn around, forgetting about the lights.

“Ask Jimin and Jungkook. Namjoon was like your human shield.” He runs his hand along your jawline. “And I was…not brave enough then,” he looks down.

Can you believe him? Back in school you remember Taehyung was well-liked and popular, a little eccentric sometimes and acted like a goofball with his friends, but…

You try to think back to any interactions you might have had with him-

A group of popular girls had knocked your books out of your hands. You yelled at them as they had walked away laughing. You wanted desperately to throw them down the stairs with your powers, but you calmed yourself before acting rashly, knowing you probably would have miscalculated and fatally hurt one of them…as if they didn’t deserve it!

But before you could work yourself back up again, your classmate Taehyung came and picked up your books for you, apologizing on their behalf.

God, you wish you could remember more. When you thought more about that day, you only remembered how Namjoon came bounding to you, worriedly looked you over, vowing to tell the teachers, which only made you hit him with your books before making him promise to let it go, cause no one liked a snitch!

Taehyung’s hand firm against your cheek brought your thoughts back into the moment, to his face so close to yours and his determined eyes staring down at you. You tried to find another memory, something to confirm his words, but you couldn’t. You felt glued to him in this moment, lost in his deep brown eyes, so pleadingly looking at you to believe him.

You feel so shocked you can’t move, even when his lips press against yours.

-FIVE DAYS LATER-

You and Jimin wore sunglasses and the same tight-fitted black suit, standing on both sides of the mind reader, you all really looked the part of Taehyung’s entourage.

“I’m not taking a bullet for that man,” you mutter under your breath at Yoongi, who pushes his sunglasses down to stare at you.

“I like you in a pant suit.”

“Yeah? Well cause I look better than all of you.”

“Not better than me!” Seokjin announces.

“That’s debatable,” Jimin laughs.

“Jimin, I would die for you!” You smile, and remembering security is supposed to be stoic, go back to glaring at anyone who looks in Taehyung’s direction.

There is so much controversy surrounding the bill now, every political figure is on high alert. Taehyung has to keep appearances, lest they suspect him.

“So what’s the tally now?” you ask Yoongi.

“He’s got one on a pretty damning domestic violence charge, his ex wife was all over social media accusing him, but RM finally got the DA to charge him...but he’s out on bail.”

“He can still work?!”

“Well yeah, he’s not convicted yet. Innocent until proven guilty!” Jin says sarcastically.

“What about the embezzlement guy?” Jimin asks. “The one all over the news now.”

“Oh we lost that one, looks you can beat your wife but not the feds.”

You groan. “And I guess I’m not allowed to hurt Mr. Wife Beater until the bill is passed?”

“Correct,” Taehyung says, looking over his shoulder at you. You roll your eyes.

“See you in a bit,” you whisper to Yoongi.

“See ya, don’t enjoy yourself too much,” he whispers back, hooking your pinkies together.

“Oh but I will,” you wink, teasing him before you, Jin, and Hoseok veer away from the group.

“I was kind of digging the pants suit,” you say as Hoseok hands you a backpack full of new clothes. The three of you are in one bathroom stall, changing into clothes that look less like security and more like Taehyung’s attire, a dress and suits fit for someone of elite status.

“If you peek I’ll know,” Jin says, unbuttoning his shirt.

You turn your back to him, doing the same. “Not interested,” you scoff.

“That’s a lie,” Jin says.

“Okay, human lie detector,” you groan, unbuttoning your pants.

Hoseok’s bare shoulder rubs against your naked body as he pulls on a new pair of pants.

“Hoseok, please control your thoughts,” Jin whines.

“What?” Hoseok squeaks as you step into your dress.

“Can you zip it up for me?” you turn around. Hoseok’s suit is white, a relaxed loose fit that looks perfect on him. Seokjin’s suit is devilishly red, buttoned tight around his waist, showing off his lean and tall frame. It makes perfect sense to you, their choices, an angel and devil, who would you choose to listen to tonight?

“W-Where are your clothes!”

“What do you mean?” you look down at your own dress, long, black and velvet, with sheer detailing, and a very very very high slit.

“It’s see through!”

“Whatever, it’s covering the important bits.” You fasten a diamond necklace around your neck and decide you will not be returning this ensemble to Taehyung at the end of the night. “Zip it!” Jin does it for you, teasingly slow, of course, that devil.

“Ready to play your parts?” Jin asks. You and Hoseok both nod and then you scatter into the crowd inside the art museum.

The life of the party. Hoseok chats everyone up, learning who is who, and who the important people are. Of course there is Mayor Kim tonight, a fan of art, visiting the city Museum during its charity event. There is a slew of socialites, daughters of rich men, flirting and offering Hoseok their thoughts on the artist. There is a high profile collector in attendance, and a lastly, a few lovers of art, who would have guessed?

The gaucho. Jin is loud, condescending, the worst kind of art critic. Oh, you haven’t heard of him? That sounds like a you problem. He’s the type that can sway a whole crowd with his views. A pat on the back, to look at the piece again, and suddenly they can see it too. He strategically thins the crowds around certain art pieces.

And you are, the provocateur.

“Joon!” The challenge. He looks cute, so out of place in his sweater and long coat, but somehow fitting in perfectly between the art pieces.

“Y/n, w-what are you doing here?”

“Oh, well...” you move to his side, hooking your arm under his, “I am...going to steal that,” you nod to the large art piece against the farthest wall.

Namjoon scans the area, seeing if anyone heard you. “You’re being serious?” he says in disbelief, “Are you insane? Do you think I’m going to let you?”

You lean against him. “No,” you smile. “I intend to steal it and get caught doing it. It’s a fake, Namjoon,“ you whisper, laughing, as if it were obvious.

“What?” he peers over at the painting, holding himself back from getting closer. “How can you tell?”

“Well you can’t really, that’s the point. Which I guess begs the question, what makes that one so worthless?”

“The original holds the artist’s idea...” You two walk around the room, looking at another art piece. “It just can’t be compared.”

“But, if the copy is flawless in every way, the effort it took to paint is still there...the brush strokes, the paint, the time, all add up. Yet the original is just...always better? You can’t even tell the difference!”

“The artist who painted it can tell.”

“The artist is dead, and you know what? I bet he couldn’t, I bet I could convince him that that one was the original, just like everyone else here is convinced.”

“Then it’s selling a lie.”

“So you agree then, I should take it? Expose the truth!” you tease.

“Where’s the real one?” Namjoon asks, ignoring your question with one of his own.

“Probably in some old guy’s home collecting dust and being used to launder money. Taehyung wants to expose the fake and the art gallery’s shady dealings, maybe even get the original back...”

“Why would he go to all this trouble?”

“That’s just his style,” you joke. “You should know by now. So will you let me steal it?”

“How do I know you just didn’t make all this up right now?”

You sigh. “I guess we can’t all have Jin’s assuredness, huh?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon frowns, watching the man in question walk to another painting with a large crowd in tow, ready to hear his thoughts on the next piece.

“Well, I’m still stealing it,” you declare. “But we have time until then, so want to show me around? Or leave me to my own evil devices?” you tease, “Or take me someplace where we can be alone?” you bite you lip, eyeing him up and down.

Namjoon swallows, trying to think of anything other than the way your body is so on display in your sheer dress, your curves rivaling the beauty of the three dimensional art pieces around you. He tries not to think about you in his arms, twisting you as he pleases, the translucent nylon stretching and showing more of you until he forgets to breathe. “Why do I get the feeling you are trying to distract me?”

“Well it’s true I want all your attention,” you stare at him, daring him to look away. “I have to remind you though, now that I told you, if you do let me steal it...you’ll be an accomplice.”

Namjoon laughs a little too loud and people stare at the pair of you.

“Joon...” you say softly, “I miss you.”

“You have lots of friends now to keep you company.” He fixes the gems of your necklace, fingers lingering on your cheek. “Which one of them stole this for you?”

You resist the urge to frown and roll your eyes, turning to the still life painting in front of you instead. “Go ahead and confiscate it if you want, might as well take the dress off of me too,” you challenge.

Namjoon drags you to the next art piece, defiantly silent.

“I hoped you might have felt the same,” you sigh, “I guess that’s stupid of me, to hope you missed me too.”

Namjoon clenches his jaw, eyes focused on the large painting. “You know how I feel about you-”

“I don’t know,” you argue, wanting to hear him say it.

“What I feel doesn’t matter, actions matter.”

Goddamn him. “I don’t want to argue with you tonight. Can’t we enjoy the art, like we used to?”

“The red lines in this painting, notice how you can follow through to this one, and this?”

You nod, holding his arm tighter. He pulls you closer to the last painting, turning your body to look at all three, so you can see how the overlapping lines connect across each piece. “Red for blood, representing the strings of fate.” Namjoon’s arm naturally wraps around your waist, his jaw against your cheek as he gently guides your eye line.

“You see all that?” you smile, you could listen to him pick apart art all day long.

Namjoon’s finger taps the plaque next to you, titled “Moirai.” The three fates. You tilt your head to look behind you, where his frame towers. His eyes sparkle with passion for the art. You think it’s the art, but your heart hopes it’s something more...

“I…want to kiss you so badly...”

Namjoon looks at you, his heart jumping in his chest-

“There you are! I was wondering where you went off to. You don't mind if I steal your friend away, right?”

Taehyung. This was not part of the plan!

Cameras are suddenly around you, a handful of photographers that have been shadowing The Mayor. Namjoon has no choice but to offer him a tight lipped smile, nodding. “She’s all yours, for now,” he adds under his breath.

Taehyung holds his hand out to you and you don’t miss a beat, placing your fingers in his palm. He kisses your knuckles and the cameras love it, a dozen flashes going off in unison.

“You look familiar. Have we met before?” Mayor Kim addresses Namjoon. Taehyung is clearly out for blood, playing coy and using his status against him.

“Namjoon is an art history expert,” you say proudly, “and he is a collector of art!”

“No I am not,” Namjoon mutters, ears reddening.

“You are!” you still remember how he saved up for months to buy a particular painting he adored. When he first moved in, you helped him frame all the drawings he has collected over the years. “His home looks like an art gallery.”

“Ahhh,” Taehyung fakes intrigue. “One more photo, guys!” He turns to the cameras, “Please, let me have some time to myself to enjoy...the art,” he grins in your direction.

Taehyung pulls you to his side, and you’re forced to fake a smile for the cameras, the flashes nearly blinding you. How does Taehyung do this all the time, and seem to enjoy it?

Taehyung smiles wide. His arm is over your shoulder, fingers tickling your arm. Cameras flash.

His arm moves lower, stopping around your waist. Flash. He quickly pulls you closer, turns his head and nuzzles your neck. Flash. You can’t help but giggle uncontrollably and cameras flash two times faster. Flash Flash Flash. You’re going to have to have a talk with Yoongi to make sure none of those photos end up online.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Taehyung says after photographers have scurried away. He peers over at Namjoon who has managed to keep himself from ripping Taehyung's arms off of you up until this point, his restraint now wavering to dangerous levels.

Namjoon nods in agreement, staring at you as you become increasingly more uncomfortable with whatever game Taehyung is playing. “Mayor Kim, have you been drinking?”

“Yes, there’s an open bar,” he reminds you, “but I am still more than capable of-” he turns to Namjoon, whispering, “stealing that painting.”

You step in between both men as Namjoon advances, running into Namjoon’s arms instead before The Mayor’s security descends. You hadn’t expected Namjoon to wrap his arms around you. “I would love that. I would love for you to try, instead of making my friend act like a criminal.”

Taehyung tilts his head at the pair of you, “It’s no act.”

“Joon, show me your favorite art piece here, will you?” You try to move the headstrong pair away from each other.

Namjoon looks between you and the Mayor. He can’t figure it out, the plan you have both concocted, and it is infuriating. “And what if I leave and take you with me right now.” He interlocks his arms around your frame, looking at you, testing your reaction. You want to tell him to take you, more than anything-

“Hmm I’d let you have her for tonight to keep you out of my hair.”

“Taehyung!” you hiss as Namjoon pushes against you to get closer to the Mayor, a huge mistake that has what’s left of his security coming to stop Joon. Why is he ruining his own goddamn plan?! Unless...

“Is there a problem, Sir?” Jimin speaks up, halting your argument. You glare at-

The mastermind. It was all Taehyung’s idea to do this. Even though Taehyung had an appreciation for the craftmanship of modern art, he despised the art scene, the overinflated prices, the elitism of it all, the very culture often being critiqued gathering together to inflate their own egos rather than to show any real appreciation for what it took to create such magnificence. Which is why Taehyung wanted to expose all of it for the sham it was. And, perhaps, get the real art piece somewhere where it will be appreciated, like in his study...

But the plan was to distract Namjoon while the others work to switch the original with a fake, not piss him off so much he was going to get you all kicked out before you could do anything!

There was something Taehyung was keeping from you...

Is there no honor amongst thieves?!

“Yes, Jimin, can you please escort Mr...Kim Namjoon, was it? Mr. Kim Namjoon out before he does something he regrets.”

“No. No!” You hold onto Namjoon. You didn’t want your time with him to be cut so short.

“Don’t make a scene, darling.” Taehyung pulls you to him quickly.

“You’re the one making a fucking scene,” you whisper, unwilling to part from Joon, wanting to cry at this unfair treatment. You knew how much Namjoon loved art and how much he wanted to be here.

Namjoon watched as you abated your breath and held in your tears, and the sight kept him from charging through security to get to Taehyung, even when the young politician put his arm around your shoulder arrogantly.

“I’ll be back…as RM,” he threatens.

“We’re counting on it,” Taehyung smiles.

“Why would you do that? We said he would stay!”

“He has to believe it. That’s the plan, right, my damsel?”

“He will,” you swallow, worried you’ve gone too far. No…this will work. Even though you have a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach over Taehyung’s enthusiastic cooperation.

“And will you give me some damn space?” you threaten, acutely aware of how Taehyung has himself pressed up against you, leaning into you like a lover would.

He wraps his arms around your waist. “Do you have any idea how hot you look right now?”

“You really are drunk, aren’t you?”

Taehyung chuckles, head knocking into yours. “I want to kiss you.”

You look around, surprised no one has noticed his antics. “You’re going to kiss me? In front of all these people and cameras?” you laugh.

“No. Because,” he holds your waist tightly, “They don’t see us.” He moves you closer to a vase on display. You peer down at the shiny surface, your reflections missing. “They haven’t for awhile now.”

“Huh? Damn, I didn’t even notice.”

“It’s nice right? We could do anything we wanted, and they wouldn’t know.” He moves you further away from the crowds. “I could kiss you...I fuck you right here, and they wouldn’t be the wiser,” he teases, “That is...if you can keep quiet.” You wore the perfect outfit, his hand travels down to your exposed thigh.

“You drunken idiot.”

“If I kiss you, would you stop me?”

“Find out,” you challenge.

“The mission first.” He pulls away from you. You realize your hand had absentmindedly snaked its way around Taehyung’s neck when he removes it and places your palm on the wall next to you.

“You’re giving me mixed signals, Mayor.”

“Knock down all the paintings on this wall.”

You sigh, running your finger along the wall. “Fine.” The row of paintings fall when you point down earning frightened yelps from those in attendance who are closest.

“You could destroy this whole museum without even trying,” he whispers, shamelessly eyeing you up and down. “So fucking hot.”

Taehyung holds your shoulders, pushing you against the newly bare museum wall and then kisses you, devouring your lips so roughly your head knocks against it, hands wrapping back around your waist until you’re pressed so tightly together you’re melting into his embrace and Taehyung knows you’ve stopped thinking about your damned superhero.

The remaining three walls suddenly become bare when Taehyung presses his knee up between your legs. “Shit,” you manage to calm yourself down as the Museum’s curator goes into hysterics.

Taehyung doesn’t seem to mind, his head buried in your neck. Everyone is ushered into the adjoining room. “We should help,” you stutter.

“They got it handled, isn’t this more fun?”

Once the room is cleared, only staff remain, frantically trying to figure out what to do. That’s when you see him, the wide eyed teleporter in a fancy black suit similar to other staff members. He works quickly and discreetly, switching out real paintings with fakes. Everyone was so tense and focused on their task, no one even noticed the slight changes in his stance. You watched mesmerized, watching Jungkook work was like watching a video skipping frames, a real time glitch in person.

“How many originals are you taking?”

“What if I took all of them?” he smirks.

You roll your eyes. It is true that there have been shady dealings, but Taehyung hadn’t quite figured out which paintings were fakes, his solution? Steal them all, make them all forgeries.

“He’s lurking outside of the South entrance.” You can feel Namjoon, it is…nice to think about him. Sometimes you wonder if he can sense when you do this, if he can feel your presence as if you were holding him. “Now?” you ask Taehyung, ready for action.

“No, change of plans-”

“What?” you hiss.

“Relax, you’ll still get what you want-”

“You know I don’t like being left out!”

“Ohoho, when you begged me to leave the others out of-”

You grab a nice chunk of Taehyung’s hair and yank. “That is different.”

“Yes, yes, it’s different...” You watch his Adam’s apple jump up as he swallows, his long neck outstetched and very enticing to lick, the sight makes you lessen your grip only slightly.

“What change?”

“Sorry love, we won’t be stealing anything-”

Taehyung has to be joking. You made a deal and if Taehyung goes back on it now, you’ll make him regret everything. “I have to get arrested-”

“Oh you definitely will.” You frown because he’s not making any sense.

“I know you hate it when we drag you into our politics. If I told you everything you were just going to be a brat about it,” he says. You blink, taking a deep breath, disappointed and annoyed. “It will still have the same effect! When they clean the paintings they’ll realize they are fakes.”

Huh? You groan, you reliaze exactly what Taehyung...no, V and the rest of those ecoterrorists want to do. “This new plan is fucking lame. You know this kind of shit goes right over people’s heads?” You have heard of this happening to other museums. Defacing art in the name of the environment definitely gets people talking, but you have to wonder if it actually changes minds?

“As long as they are talking about it, it keeps my clean energy proposal relevant, that’s what matters. If anything my proposal will look so much more reasonable in comparison, don't you think? Hoseok will do all the talking, you just have to make sure your aim hits.”

“I’m tired of being used as a pawn.” You glare at him, and then against his will, his fingers move of your own accord.

“Not a pawn,” Taehyung grunts, unsuccessfully fighting against your powers. “You’re a Queen…a Queen...”

“Queen huh,” Taehyung’s body goes rigid as he moves against his own will.

His head rests on your shoulder, then in between your breasts, moving down the front of your body, falling to his knees, head resting against your hip bone. This kind of tortuous play Taehyung could get used to.

You notice Mr. Art Critic and double agent 006 sense in the art curator’s ear, no doubt whispering persuasive white lies to further the plan along. Eventually you’ll move to the other room, where everyone left will be the perfect captive audience.

You could have sworn Seokjin looked right at you at one point, as if he can see you and his friend kneeling at your feet.

You lean against the wall, letting your anger subside. Eventually, you allow Taehyung to look up at you.

Sometimes you wondered who you were looking at, which version of Taehyung was staring back at you. This kind of occupation fractured people, or perhaps you all became broken that night in the forest, who you were supposed to be and who you became were shattered fragments held together by unimaginable power.

You run your hand through his hair, fixing the strands you messed up back in place. “You’re very frustrating.”

“Have I ever not given you what you wanted? This plan will work, you’ll get your white knight back as a black knight.”

You swallow, your will to fight against Taehyung diminishing less and less until you let go of your mind hold on him all together.

This little plan of yours might be drastic, but the gentle approach when dealing with RM never works. But unlike Taehyung, you don’t need Namjoon to turn dark, just...understand you. You can do this, play this game you and Taehyung have set up. You just have to push Joon just a bit, but not let him be captured by your side. A Queen can move anywhere across the board after all, the Queen is more powerful than the King.

“You don’t have to stay on your knees,” you eye the very handsome man caressing your legs.

“We have plenty of time,” Taehyung’s lips graze your exposed thigh.

“Fuck,” you murmur, looking around. No one even looks in your direction. You look down at the man in between your legs, so willing to stay on his knees for you. You should focus on the mission. You need to make yourself available, but all you could focus on were the small electrical currents of pleasure caused by Taehyung’s slow and determined caresses.

His fingers are a shock to your system when he drags his hand under your dress, pressing into your heat suddenly.

This is the last time, the last time Taehyung will have any power over you.

You hoped.

---

“RM, hey! My kid’s a big fan, do you think I can get an autograph.”

“Err yeah sure, what’s going on-”

“Can I get an autograph too?”

“Did I say you could speak? Shut your goddamn mouth,” the officer yells at you and you pout, flinching when he reaches for you.

“What happened? The museum, there was an event, right?” Namjoon tries to remain calm, grabbing the officer’s attention again, purposely making sure he doesn’t touch you. Namjoon had been preoccupied, distracted by an accident that had nothing to do with your plans but worked in your favor, a family that needed urgent medical attention after a car crash, as RM was quicker than any ambulance and stronger than the jaws of life, he saved them just in time.

“These two lunatics crashed it.” He gestures to you and Hoseok, sitting handcuffed on the ground, your dress torn at the slit and across the collar at your resisted arrest and Hoseok with a busted lip. “Not only that, once they realized they were cornered they defaced everything with paint-”

“It was actually gazpacho,” you interject.

“Yeah yeah, and that’s called a felony charge,” he reminds you and you roll your eyes. “His name is Daniel, you can put Danny, he’d love that.” He hands Namjoon a piece of paper. “You can take this one,” he tells his partner, pointing at Hoseok, “I’ll take her in.”

The officer looks down at you, eyes zoning in on your cleavage, and Hoseok makes himself heavy on purpose when his partner grabs at him, unwilling to leave you alone. You try to wrap your legs around his calf when he is pulled away, neither of you able to grab on to each other with your hands handcuffed.

“Goddammit!” the officer yanks you up by the elbow causing you to cry out in pain. Namjoon holds you up, unable to stop himself from interfering. “Don’t worry, RM, I got it handled,” the officer says, trying to grab you again. “That’s two counts resisting arrest already,” he yells in your ear, “Do you want to add a third?!”

“Why yes, officer, I would,” you mock, trying to twist your arm out of his hold.

You scream as he pushes you against the side of his patrol car.

Namjoon’s chest feels tight, his teeth hurting from how hard he’s clenching his jaw.

Again RM steps in, “Shouldn’t you be more gentle on her-”

“She’s overreacting, these girls love to cry crocodile tears, don’t fall for it,” he dismisses. You cry louder, rattling the superhero to his core.

The officer shoves you in the back of his vehicle, slamming the door shut, and you stomp your heel into his window, cracking it on impact, something that should have been physically impossible to do on bullet proof glass, but remarkably easy with your powers.

“What the hell! Crazy bitch,” he mutters under his breath. “That's another charge! Vandalism to a police vehicle!” he bangs on the window with his fist, cursing.

“I should go with you, in case something goes wrong,” Namjoon hands back his hastily scribbled signature.

“What could go wrong?” he laughs. “Nah, it’s gonna take me some time,” Namjoon tries not to think the worst when the officer mumbles out a convoluted excuse, “Anyways, you can fly! What wouldn’t I give to be able to fly-”

“I’ll follow behind your car.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he says curtly. “Like I said, we’re good here, RM. You wouldn’t want people to suspect anything like tampering with police proceedings, right?” The officer makes it a point to emphasize his thinly veiled threat. You sit up when he starts the car, looking at the superhero with pleading eyes.

Of course Namjoon followed you.

The superhero stayed high in the air, right above the police cruiser.

Namjoon knew you could get out of this. So why weren’t you! You were really going to let yourself get caught just like you told him? Fuck, why were you letting it really happen?

Namjoon, an annual pass holder to the museum, had built a nice friendship with many of the older women curators as such a regular visitor. So they would sometimes offer him discounted tickets on nights like tonight where he could get to see newly curated artwork before the general public, an opportunity the art enthusiast could rarely pass up on, even if the tickets did cost a small fortune.

Namjoon had, however, not anticipated this kind of event would be taken over by V and he surely had not expected the sight of you. But you had a knack for dropping back into his life and leaving him reeling. You had a knack for confusing him too, making him question himself and his actions over and over again, and all those agonizing questions he had were about to be answered...

Namjoon tails the police cruiser turns down an alley, watching as the headlights turns off and the engine stops as he parks.

You could escape now, it would be the perfect time, Namjoon thinks. The driver door opens and the officer circles the vehicle, pulling out his firearm.

You need to escape, you have to. This wasn’t about the paintings anymore, this was wrong.

Jungkook was going to come, right? Hop you away from punishment like he always did. Where was he? Or any one of them?

They should be protecting you! Namjoon didn’t think he could despise V any more, but the fact that he couldn’t even properly safeguard you when his plans went awry made Namjoon’s blood boil.

Yet, he found himself desperately wishing Taehyung would reveal himself.

Right now. Right now!

Namjoon clenches his fist.

He watches as the officer opens the back door, pistol aimed right at you, crawling into the backseat and on top of you.

---

You wash Namjoon’s hands under cold water silently until the bleeding stops.

“I was going to kill him.”

“No, you weren’t,” you remind him, holding his hand as you work to heal his knuckles.

“If you hadn’t stopped me-”

“I didn’t do much,” you laugh solemnly.

“I should...turn myself in,” Namjoon says dejectedly.

“Are you crazy? So you can go to jail with every criminal you put away?! Everyone will know your identity, what if they go after your family- No, if you even dare try something so stupid, then I’ll…run a rampage in the city!” you threaten, serious even if it sounded ridiculous.

Namjoon looks up at you, eyes softening. “We have to tell the Chief of Police. They should know…what he was going to do to you…” Namjoon couldn’t even say it, disgusted all over again, his anger rising.

“You saved me before he did,” you mumble. “They protect their own, you know that,” you sigh, “If we do that I’ll just end up getting arrested again, probably by one of his friends. Don’t worry, Joon. Jin will get to him, alter his memories so we don’t have to deal with them again, he’s gotten pretty good at it.”

Seokjin...Namjoon felt a bitter taste in his mouth that it was Jin who was going to deal with that bastard and not himself. You can see the torment raging in his eyes.

“Why didn’t you...do something?”

You flick him on the forehead. “You know, if I didn’t have my powers-”

“You do, you do! You could have-”

“What? Escaped? Were you planning on capturing me to hand me over to the police yourself?” you try to lighten the mood.

Joon rests his head on your shoulder. “...I would have let you go.” Namjoon scoffs, sighing. “You...weaken me. I was going to kill him, I-I still...” Namjoon has to calm down, he has to be better. But all he could think about was seeing that officer over you, rage filling inside him so quickly he reacted before even thinking. He yanked the door off its hinges and grabbed the officer with all intent to stop him from ever doing that to anyone ever again.

There was so much blood.

You lean your head against his. “I’m sorry. The way things are…going against them, it doesn't make you a bad person. Sometimes justice is unlawful…”

Namjoon didn’t know what to say.

“Joon?”

“Yeah?”

You pause. “Now…can you try to understand…why…I…” you take a deep breath, “...why I killed The Mayor? He was going to do something…horrible to you. How could I not protect you? Can’t you forgive me? Please?”

“And everything else you’ve done since then?” Namjoon can’t meet your eyes, clenching his jaw.

“I admit, yes, I’ve made some…bad decisions since then. Killing the Mayor was not one of them.”

You admitted your wrongdoings, that was something Namjoon could cling to for now. “You can use my shower, to clean up.” he whispers, looking down at your torn dress. “I’ll bring you one of my shirts.”

“Can I ask a um favor?” You look around his small bathroom, thinking about the last time you had been in his home, feeling the pain in your chest become sharper.

“I don’t want him to be the last person who kissed me, so-” Namjoon pounds his fist on the bathroom sink, breaking the marble. “Yah!” You grab his hand again. “I just fixed your hand!”

He hugs you close to him, letting the scent of you calm him down. The smell of your hair, the remnants of your lotion, even the salty scent of your unwashed skin, he likes. He almost resists when you pull his head away, not wanting to stop breathing you in.

He looks into your pleading eyes, your awaiting lips, your abated breath, you have always been his weakness.

His mouth captures yours, letting his lips mold together with yours. You pull him in closer, wrapping your arms around his neck as he lifts you up into his arms.

“Don’t stop, please,” you say desperately, wrapping your legs around his torso, reaching for the shower curtain and pulling it open.

He steps inside the bath as you attempt to unzip the back of your torn dress. Namjoon lets you stand, helping you pull the tight dress off your shoulders. You run your lips across his neck, kissing his jaw, his cheek, any part of him you could reach, needing to leave your mark on him.

The water runs red as the showerhead washes the blood off RM’s suit. You reach around his back, removing the offending material. Namjoon kisses your exposed shoulder, the warm water relaxing his tense muscles. He wishes he could forget tonight and remember only this moment with you.

The more he touches you, the quicker the hopeless feeling in the pit of his stomach is replaced with a desperate ache to have you. Your soft moans extinguish the white hot anger inside of him, simmering it down so he can only feel the heat of your bodies, the steam of the shower and the wetness of your slick mixed with water.

He caresses your skin, memorizing the lines of your face and the fullness of your cheeks, the specks in your irises. It's been too long, he curses his forgetfulness.

“Joon?” you look at him worriedly, he looks like he’s about to cry, and you can’t be sure he wasn’t already, wondering if the shower water running down his face might be concealing his tears.

You should feel guilty, you should feel ashamed, but fuck...he’s here with you, you have him, Namjoon was what really made you feel less broken. But if you were breaking him in the process...Fuck, fuck! You’ll find a way to fix it!

He crashes his lips against yours once again, refusing to let you go until you’re both gasping for air.

You laugh when he slips, using your powers to catch him and press his body to yours.

He hikes up your leg, moving quickly, needy and desperate, with an urgency like he needs to prove something to you, to himself. He holds you too tight, ruts into you so hard, fingers digging into your legs painfully, crushing you against tile.

You grind your teeth, keeping your mewls silent as his thick cock stretches you out. He pulls you closer to him, thrusting in so deep and hard you know you’re going to be sore, and you want it to never end.

You hold onto his shoulders, nails digging into his back, hoping you’ll leave marks, something that will make him think of this moment and want you all over again.

You lean your head back, pull him in by the neck, leading his mouth to your throat, tightening against him when he sucks on the sensitive skin under your jaw.

It feels too good, it feels too right, you quiet your worries, you silence your doubts, hold him tighter.

He’s close, you can feel him swell inside you, his head bumping into yours as his rhythm picks up. You moan out his name encouragingly, wanting more.

You’re shivering and feverish all at once, chasing your release with him, goosebumps blooming over your wet skin, the aching inside your chest turning into molten lava, flowing straight down and spreading warmth across your stomach, the place your bodies connect throbbing until you can’t think straight.

You snap into a million burning sparks, all ignited by Namjoon.

He slips again, falling with you.

“You’re so clumsy,” you smile, holding your bodies up a few centimeters above Namjoon’s tub as the superhero catches his breath, head buried in your neck, his body tightly wrapped around yours.

---

“Y/n!” Seokjin runs to you first, “Are you okay?! What happened?!” He grabs your head, running through your thoughts.

“W-Well…” Aish, you did not want to remember all of that! And you felt a little embarrassed as the rest of the night replayed in your head. Seokjin doesn’t seem too angry or bothered, hugging you close.

“You weren’t there. And the scene we found was…” Jin falters, “troublesome.”

“Jin went a little ballistic,” Jungkook adds, hugging you next. “We all thought something terrible happened to you.”

“His thoughts…I could barely make sense of them, he seemed to have suffered some brain damage. I thought he…never mind.”

Hoseok hugs you next. He notices the bruises on your legs, “Shit, he fucking hurt you.”

“I’m fine! I’m fine,” you stutter, glancing over to Jin who stays quiet, thankfully not outing what really happened to you. “I’ll fix that, okay?” You wince at his busted lip. “Sorry for disappearing,” you say sheepishly, “Were you able to ‘change’ his mind?”

“Well, I don’t think he is going to be doing much on the police force…or much of anything.”

“Damn, what did you do?!”

Seokjin stays uncharacteristically silent. “The guy wouldn’t stop screaming, and Jin wouldn’t let go of him,” Jungkook speaks up. “Taehyung wants me to take you to him. He said as soon as you came back-”

“I can’t go right now. I have to heal Hoseok and also, I don't want to,” you add.

“She’s not going,” Yoongi says, holding your cheek as he looks you over. Jungkook has no choice but to relent.

“I’m fine, nothing actually happened-”

“I watched the cameras...the way RM reacted...Jin was pretty convinced-”

“You think I can’t handle some creep? There was no way he was going to get away with that, okay? So don’t look at me like that…please, it makes me feel pathetic,” you whine, running your hand over his furrowed brow.

“We have another problem,” Yoongi says, pulling your hand away.

He holds up his phone. “Oh what the fuck.”

“It’s every trending topic on local news.”

Fuck! You knew you forgot something. Pictures of Taehyung and you were reposted over and over, with headlines like, ‘The Mayor’s Mysterious New Girlfriend.’ Even pictures of you together at night looking at the lights…

Oh no…

Yoongi scrolls through blurry pictures of you kissing Taehyung.

Oh shit…

“Can’t you erase it?!”

“If it had been only one or two sites, maybe. Now that it's all over the net, it's impossible.”

“I am not ‘The Mayor’s girlfriend,’” you plead to Yoongi.

But it had always been the plan. Yoongi knew it had always been what Taehyung wanted, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. “You look good together.”

“No we don't! I can’t stand him, I don’t like him, Yoongi.” You wanted to say you liked him instead, but the words caught in your throat at his next question.

“And Namjoon?”

“What?”

“Where were you all night?”

You keep your mouth shut tightly, looking away.

“When Seokjin said Namjoon took you, I was relieved. After what happened to you, I knew you would want to be with Joon most of all. Still, I was hoping you might come back. I was hoping I could have been enough,” he holds your cheek one last time.

You want to scream and cry, ask Yoongi for forgiveness, but you knew you didn’t deserve it. Even ‘I’m sorry’ feels like a hollow gesture. “Don’t look at me like that,” he sighs, mustering up a smile, “It makes me feel pathetic.”

‘Vandals Escape after Destroying Museum Full of Art.’

‘Art Under Attack! Environmentalists Ask What is Worth More, Your Future or Your Art?

‘Mysterious Crater found on City Outskirts, Aliens?’

‘Art Gallery Embroiled in Forgery Allegations.’

‘Controversial Energy Bill Set to be Approved.’

‘Mayor Kim’s Mysterious First Lady.’

“When asked about the ‘new woman’ in his life, Mayor Kim acts impartial for the first time in his political career. Though, he hints they may be more than an item, adding next election there might be a first lady by his side.” You read the article to Taehyung, fuming. “Why in the hell would you say something like that? I am never going to be your girlfriend, in fact, I am beginning to despise you.” You want to throw your phone at Taehyung’s head.

Taehyung crosses his arms, leaning back on his office chair. “I just need you for a couple public appearances here and there, it’s not the end of the world to be seen with me, you know.”

“No-”

“You owe me,” he lowers his voice, anger contained to the few slowly spoken syllables.

“This is not what I had in mind,” you argue, surprised at his demeanor.

“No, but it is what I want. I gave you what you wanted, didn’t I? You even have my friends worrying about you. Did you enjoy all the attention?”

“Fuck you. It wasn’t like that.”

“I’m not judging! I’m impressed. Your twisted plan worked. You even turned me into the bad guy, everyone is still mad at me for what happened to you,” he says, clicking his tongue. For the first time in years Taehyung feels the tight bonds around his friendships loosening and he doesn’t like it at all.

Intentionally or not, you had weaved yourself in their lives, loosened the strings yourself. It was your fault and he was going to tie you to him one way or another, and he was going to make it suffocatingly tight, make you depend on him to breathe.

“You are the bad guy,” you whisper.

“Yeah…” he puts his hands in his pockets, looking down at you. “You’re really evil, then. Don’t you think we’d make the perfect pair?” It’s not in a teasing manner. He’s serious. He doesn’t shy away from you, only watches you slowly fall apart in front of him.

Tahyung’s happy encouraging smile makes your insides twist. You ruined a man. In your opinion, he dug his own grave, but you gave him the shovel, placed him atop his plot. But he did it! So why did you feel so dirty?

Were you really the evil one?

Taehyung thought so. The way he looks at you, relishing in the fact you did something so twisted, it makes your skin crawl. Maybe you were where you should be, in the dirt, in Taehyung’s arms.

“I changed the plan for you, y/n. I would do anything for you.”

“No...you knew this would happen, that’s why you let me go with Joon, right?” Fuck, it had been your idea, so why did it not feel like you had any control?

His lips on the crook of your neck made you feel helpless.

When Taehyung explained the plan to you, you saw an opportunity. Steal the paintings, get arrested, escape before reaching the police station. Taehyung told you Namjoon would be in attendance.

Taehyung wanted you to distract him. You resented becoming the decoy. You asked the question, “What if RM becomes my escape?” It intrigued Taehyung, so you continued. Taehyung hated RM’s annoying altruism, you also wanted Namjoon to make a selfish decision, one for you, two birds struck with one stone. “Find me a cop with a history...”

You were never in any real danger, you could have stopped him yourself easily, but you begged Taehyung to make sure the others left you alone. He made them believe it was his mistake, a miscommunication between him and you.

You knew Namjoon would free you if he had a good reason. Was it so bad to want him to see how not everything can be solved by the books? If he could just understand that, understand where you were coming from…

Hoseok was hurt because of you, you still feel guilty about it. Namjoon and Seokjin almost killed a man because of you! Sure, that man ultimately decided to abuse his power over you, but you egged him on in the back seat, did everything you could to make him snap. You wanted him to snap.

You wanted destruction.

And perhaps some part of you deep, deep down wanted Namjoon to kill for you like you did for him. You just missed him so damn much, felt so small and unsure of your place in his heart. But in the end you stopped him, you couldn’t let him become like you, ignoring that horribleness growing inside of you.

“Night events only,” you concede. Grabbing him by the collar, you add, “Don’t expect me to be on your damn campaign trail.”

V smirks. “That’s my girl.”

---

IT'S GETTING MESSY. Team V or Team RM?

#taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung fanfic #Taehyung smut #namjoon smut #bts fantasy au #bts superhero au #bts supernatural au #namjoon x reader #namjoon fanfic #namjoon angst #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x you #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x you

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writersrealmbts · 2 years ago

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Clearwater Springs: Part 13

Description: ot7 x reader, reader’s choice, fairy/supernatural/soulmate au. The choices you make influence the story! In this world, war-torn and ragged, you’ve been offered a home and a job working as a librarian. Will you meet your soulmates? Will you ever find the shelves behind the piles of books? Who knows.

Warnings: idk

Posted: 04/26/2023

Tags: ot7 x reader, supernatural bts, soulmate au

2,029 words

A/N: Back to surveys, whoo

You weren't sure if it was Hoseok seeing the future or just a matter of taking care of things since they were taking care of everything else, but the front flowerbeds had been cleared and fresh dirt turned up, ready for new plants. You were assuming it was Hoseok since another flowerbed toward the back had been established with a ring of stream-smoothed stones as the outline and the sod cut away. Right where you were thinking of putting the garden you were originally planning on.

The boys themselves appeared to be on a break, sipping water or lemonade or whatever and sitting on the grass, as the three of you arrived home.

Jungkook hopped up. "You're back!"

"We are, sit back down," you admonished, laughing at his antics. "Look, we got the prettiest little tree! I saw it and I had to have it."

Continue reading on Ao3...

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Masterlist. Clearwater Springs Masterpost.

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chimcess · 10 months ago

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→ Chapter Nine: Landscapes Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Werewolf!Jimin, Witch!Reader, Shifter!Reader, Shifter!Jimin, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha!Jimin Genre: Supernatural!AU, Werewolf!AU, Angst, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Smut, Word Count: 10.2k+ Synopsis: Within the four realms of Lustra lay the Bangtan forest home to the Foxglove pack of the south and known as the “land of magic.” It is also home to the Bridd, a powerful witch from a cursed bloodline who is one of the sacred guardians of the forest. Y/N is the newest Bridd, a young girl who was given her position too early. Now a woman, Y/N is revered amongst the wolves as the most powerful witch they have ever known, but hiding under the surface is a woman who has to battle between her duty and her heart. Warnings: ANGST, strong language, PTSD, flashbacks, self-hate, self-depreciation, talks of death, nosey birds, Moland is a lot of fun to write about, (sorta) theft, home sickness, magic, very tame A/N: Don't know how I feel about this chapter. It was a bit difficult to write. I think you'll understand why in a moment. Thanks for reading!

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Namjoon pov

I stood in the cramped boat house, the scent of Bridd lingering faintly but unmistakably fresh. It was a small concession I could offer Jimin, a flicker of hope in a sea of frustration. Hoseok had instructed me to search outside and follow the trail, a task I’d already performed yesterday. Jimin, in his usual manner, insisted on a double-check. Today’s search yielded better results; I could discern the subtle shifts in the scent. Bridd had stood exactly where I was standing no more than forty-eight hours ago.

“She’s long gone,” Hoseok’s voice echoed clearly in my mind, despite the distance between us—five miles at least. “Wonder where she went.”

“Taehyung mentioned Viridi Gramine,” Hyuna interjected, her focus sharp and unyielding as she scanned for any trace of Bridd. “Do you think she might be headed that way?”

“Doubt it,” I said, tracing the scent from a small cot on the floor to a rusty fridge. “I don’t think she was ever planning to visit our cousins.”

Hyuna mulled over this, while Hoseok wrestled with guilt. We had all chided him for it, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that if he had been able to speak to Bridd and Jimin, none of this would have happened. Apologizing for his perceived failure, the younger wolf returned to pondering Bridd’s whereabouts.

“Not far,” Hyuna mused thoughtfully.

“She could be out of Moland by now,” I said, my tone edged with concern. “I have no clue which direction she might have taken. She could be lost out there.”

The thought unsettled us all. Hoseok, knowing Bridd’s limited experience with the outside world, worried about her lack of navigational skills. Without a map, she was likely adrift. Hyuna, however, believed in Bridd’s survival instincts. If she had to fight, she could, and her shifting abilities would serve her well. Most likely, she had flown over the swamps and into Clarcton—an efficient and practical choice.

“That makes the most sense,” Hoseok agreed, his mental voice tinged with resignation.

Following her scent outside, it abruptly stopped at the small deck adjacent to the house. She must have shifted from there. We had hit a dead end. Hoseok let out a frustrated huff, while Hyuna attempted to calm him. I could now catch my sister’s thoughts, fraught with anxiety and worry. Yeong-Mi had always been prone to migraines and panic attacks; her stress was palpable.

“Shut up,” she snapped at me, her irritation clear but tinged with underlying stress. “He’s right, oppa,” she addressed Hoseok. “You can’t blame yourself. We all know who’s really to blame for this.”

Sol’s face flickered in her mind—distorted and unfamiliar. Yeong-Mi’s memory of Sol was tainted, a far cry from reality. She had no intention of facing the Luna again anytime soon, a sentiment Hyuna echoed with a delighted giggle. Hoseok mumbled something about Sol only trying to help, but none of us paid it much mind.

“Sol can’t bear all the responsibility,” I gently rebuked my sister. “Bridd still made the choice to run off.”

“If she had just minded her own business,” Mini barked, her frustration boiling over, “Bridd wouldn’t have fled! God, how could she say that to Jimin Oppa when we all know how stressed he’s been?”

“An idiot,” Hyuna snapped back, her anger flaring once more. “Between Bo, his brother, and the copiae, the guy hasn’t had a moment’s peace.”

I had tried to remain neutral but found myself agreeing with Hyuna. Sol had overstepped her bounds. Taehyung’s reaction to her misjudgment offered some solace. The boy had yet to touch his mate since Jimin’s frantic panic the night he discovered Bridd’s empty bed. Rumors of their constant arguing since her disappearance were spreading through Bangtan.

“Eun-Jin mentioned that Jimin said Bridd was heading to the Ozryn mountains alone,” my sister added. “I haven’t been around him since she left, so I don’t know the full story, but he’s devastated.”

Hoseok growled at Jimin’s name. Mini defended her favorite alpha while I reminded him of the bigger picture. Sol’s misleading information had set off a chain reaction. Jimin’s reaction, driven by incomplete information, had resulted in his current turmoil. Hoseok vehemently disagreed until Hyuna asked him how he would have reacted if he had believed she was going off to harm herself after recovering from an injury.

“She’s alone out there,” Hoseok grunted, his resolve wavering in the face of his wife’s reasoning. “He should have never let that happen.”

“It’s not his fault,” Jong-Hyun, Jungkook’s older brother, chimed in, having returned from his eastward search. “They’re both stubborn, and I doubt Bridd would have allowed him to come along. Ji-Hyun mentioned they had an argument the afternoon she left. He feels partly responsible for what’s happened.”

I growled, “That boy’s attitude is going to get him hurt. Is that why Callisto’s been even more irate than usual?”

Mini laughed, “I think that’s just how she is around you.”

We shared a laugh, the tension briefly easing. Hyuna and Hoseok had found each other, and my sister was their next stop. She was almost to Syrena, and the couple wanted to go for a swim. We declined their offer—I had no desire to be a magindara’s next meal. Yeong-Mi chose to wait with us, keeping an eye out for any elves.

I drowned out the cacophony of voices, focusing instead on the faint, elusive trail I was following. The swamps were vast and treacherous, a labyrinth where finding Bridd seemed almost impossible. Fear gnawed at me. I hoped to God she was out there, safe and vigilant, though I knew she wasn't invincible.

I sat by the murky water, staring into its depths as if it might offer some answer, until Hyuna’s voice broke through. Taehyung was looking for me. My father was worried about a group of elves spotted in the northwestern corner of Moland and needed me out of the forest. Jimin, stubborn as ever, refused to come home. Taehyung needed my help to strategize. Hyuna had looped back to meet me near Bridd’s now-destroyed cottage.

“We’re leaving him out here alone?” I asked, a hint of disbelief in my voice.

“Of course not,” Hyuna replied, her small red form bristling slightly. “Jong-Hyun and Hoseok are keeping an eye on him. He’s deep in the forest somewhere.”

She was disappointed about their postponed beach trip but chose not to dwell on it. I tried to offer some comfort, imagining them swimming and laughing together another day, but she waved it off. She was grateful, but the thought of discussing it further would only trouble Hoseok.

“And he hasn’t found anything?” I asked.

“Nothing,” Hyuna confirmed.

As I stepped into Bridd’s clearing, the sight of the wildflowers struck me. Her garden was a riot of colors, an oasis of beauty amidst the desolation. Her cottage, surrounded by a lush garden of vegetables, fruits, and herbs, seemed almost surreal. A porcelain birdbath stood at the front, perpetually full, as though enchanted. The perfect, curated meadow seemed a divine attempt to keep Bridd from sinking into despair. Hyuna lay in the grass near the ruined house, her face etched with sadness. Taehyung had said an elf caused the damage. Bridd’s scent still clung to the remnants of her home, but it was fading.

“I wanted to go inside,” Hyuna said, her gaze fixed on the gaping hole in the cottage’s front. Her sadness was palpable. “But I don’t think Jimin would appreciate it. This is the only place that still smells like her.”

“He’s been here,” I said, noting the strong, fresh scent of Jimin. “Is he sleeping in there?”

She nodded. “I think he’s trying to fix things up. Jungkook mentioned it to Cadoc. Jimin’s obsessed with getting everything right before she comes home.”

We exchanged a look. Neither of us held out much hope that our little bird would return soon. I had more faith in Bridd’s survival skills than Hyuna did, but neither of us knew when—or if—she would come back.

Hyuna recalled her trips to Bangtan when she lived in Viridi Gramine. The Ozryn mountains were harsh, unforgiving, and lethal. Despite her royal lineage and traveling with the most skilled guides, there was always a risk she might not return. After finding Hoseok, the thought of crossing those mountains had never crossed her mind until her mother fell ill.

I had never traversed the Ozryn myself, but Hyuna’s memories sent a chill through me. Bridd might very well perish out there, and no one could prevent it. I considered suggesting that Jimin and I abandon Foxglove to search for her, but a single glance from Hyuna wiped the thought clean. We couldn’t leave the village without more information.

Bridd’s death would shatter Jimin, and Taehyung and Sol’s marriage—already strained—would likely fall apart completely. The Park family would never be the same. I desperately hoped she would return to her senses, but deep down, I knew she wouldn’t. The fierce determination in her eyes when I visited her cottage after Sol’s birthday spoke volumes. Bridd had more fire in her than Hyuna realized.

“She’s never seen so much of the world before,” Hyuna whispered, her voice as if confessing a forbidden truth. “How can she know where to go if she doesn’t even know what to look for?”

“She has maps—”

“Maps that predate the industrial revolution,” Hyuna cut me off sharply. “That girl is lost, and you know it.”

I didn’t need to say more; we were in agreement. I reminded her of Bridd’s tenacity when threatened, recounting our fight outside the cottage. Hyuna chuckled, acknowledging Bridd’s fighting spirit but still worried. When Bridd was in the infirmary, the witches had mentioned her fainting spells. How could we be sure she wouldn’t collapse out there?

“We don’t,” I admitted. “We just have to have faith. For Jimin’s sake. For her friends’ sake.”

“And Bridd’s,” Hyuna added.

“And Bridd’s,” I agreed.

A distant howl pierced the forest, signaling it was time to move. Taehyung rarely shifted anymore, so it had to be urgent. Hyuna decided to accompany me and wait for her husband at the Temple, her thoughts wandering to the prospect of confronting Sol, though I chose to ignore it.

As we neared the village, I heard the voices of the other copiae joining the search. Ji-Hyun’s loud complaints about his sister-in-law’s dramatics stood out. Hyuna fought to suppress a snarl, her thoughts simmering with anger. The younger wolf quickly dropped the subject, but my distaste for him remained. Taehyung shared my sentiments and told the Park boy to head home for the day. Ji-Hyun managed to keep his thoughts to himself long enough to change, severing our connection.

“Irrumator,” Hyuna grunted, her thoughts shifting from Ji-Hyun to Sol.

I chuckled. “He’s young. Cut him some slack.”

“He’s older than Taehyung!” Hyuna snapped. “He should know better. What he said to Bridd was out of line. How can you defend him?”

I bowed my head, conceding. I respected Hyuna enough to avoid an argument, especially with the looming threat of war. Disagreements with her would mean disagreements with Hoseok, and that was something we couldn’t afford right now.

“It’s not defending him,” I said, trying to keep annoyance out of my voice. “I just think this is a time for unity. Arguing over something we can’t change is pointless.”

Hyuna huffed but let it go. I felt a small victory in that, knowing we needed to focus on more pressing matters. Taehyung’s thoughts reflected his inner turmoil. While he agreed on the need for unity against our shared threat, he was hurt and betrayed by his closest friend’s disappearance.

Sol stirred complex emotions within me. My yearning to lead had once blinded me to her true nature. When Taehyung was chosen over me, I was disappointed, but any lingering romantic feelings vanished. I was genuinely happy for him, even if my actions didn’t always reflect it.

Sol had always been obsessed with Jimin, her infatuation apparent in her teenage ramblings. Ahn had asked me to escort her while she shifted, and her incessant daydreams about Jimin were the last thing I wanted to hear. I found myself wanting to be at her side, to lead, and her thoughts of me were less than flattering.

Sol’s heartbreak over Jimin’s lack of interest was palpable. She had desperately sought his affection, willing to overlook her mates. Jimin, though kind and cordial, had rejected her advances. I understood now, and it made sense. He was deeply devoted to another.

Sol’s life took a nosedive into chaos the moment she found herself wrapped in Taehyung’s arms. At first, confusion and disbelief painted her world in shades of gray, but soon, that confusion melted into something pure, almost ethereal. It was as if she had been in love with him all along, as if it was written in the very fabric of her being. For Taehyung, the feeling was a mirror image of hers. Before Sol, his heart had been tethered to a local girl named Minji. But love, it seems, has a way of changing the script.

Still, Sol’s obsession with Jimin was almost automatic, a reflex she couldn’t control. They were closer in age than most of us (except Taehyung), though Jimin was still seven years her senior. He was always kind and thoughtful, qualities that drew her in like a moth to a flame. When she heard he might be in danger, she rushed to his side. What she told him, which I knew only because Jimin couldn’t stop replaying that night in his head, was meant to soothe him. Yet, she shoved her friendship with Bridd aside, put her trust with Taehyung on the chopping block, and risked straining her bond with Jimin himself—all to protect his fragile heart. It would have been admirable if she’d taken a moment to think, rather than barreling into his house like a bat out of hell, spewing melodramatic, and frankly, distorted versions of the truth.

The fallout was catastrophic. Jimin’s argument with Bridd was fueled by Sol’s words. The man was already on edge. His pack of fifteen had dwindled to seven, the newer recruits too green to be of much use. Stress and frustration boiled over the moment Sol’s dramatic tale hit his ears. She painted Bridd as a suicide-bound lunatic, claiming the witch was deceiving everyone about her intentions, determined to atone for her past sins. It was absurd, though not entirely untrue, but it came from a teenage girl who hadn’t truly listened. To Jimin, all he could hear was his mate marching to her death to atone for her silence.

The whole situation with Bridd was surreal. I was irritated by her reluctance to share her visions, but that frustration faded when I realized the depth of her fear and helplessness. We weren’t on good terms. Foxglove had distanced itself, and Ahn had been vocal about his plans to visit her cottage. I couldn’t blame her for hesitating to speak up when the threat was uncertain. Ahn might have had her killed.

“He would have been a fool,” Hyuna mumbled, breaking the silence.

“When wasn’t he?” I shot back, my tone dry.

Everyone shared my sentiment. Bridd was the last person to blame. Her actions, once she understood the gravity of the situation, revealed her true care. Cadoc’s account of waking up to find the little witch, broken and bloodied, but still determined to reach Foxglove, was enough to reduce even the toughest to tears. The second her eyes opened, all she could think about was getting back to Foxglove. Any lingering doubts about her intentions evaporated. Only a few, Ji-Hyun among them, remained wary, but they were making an effort for the pack’s sake.

At the village’s edge, I parted ways with Hyuna. She gave me a brief farewell before I shifted. I was more private than the others, especially Hoseok and Hyuna, and they were accustomed to giving me space during the shift. It was my most vulnerable moment, and I loathed feeling exposed.

Bangtan had various items of clothing stashed away, none of them tailored or particularly stylish, but they were functional. My mother was responsible for keeping the copiae clothed and cared for, a job she took very seriously. It was one of the few things my father felt proud of. He often demeaned her, telling her she needed to do better, be better, spouting the same old demeaning slogans the older men in town were fond of. I could never see the faults in any of the women, especially not my mother, but she never commented on it, and neither did I.

I found a pair of large, baggy pants and shifted. After putting on the cotton garments, I decided to forgo a shirt and made my way to the Temple. Taehyung was waiting for me, and I didn’t want to add to his burdens. I felt I had done enough of that already.

As I walked through the town, I saw Jimin’s mother, Mi-Jeong, helping Jungkook’s father chop wood for his roof. The Parks were an unusual family. Mi-Jeong was outspoken, fierce, and refused to bow to men’s expectations. Her stubbornness was rivaled only by her youngest child. My own family often criticized her ‘atrocious’ behavior, but I had always been fond of Mi-Jeong.

Ji-Hyun, on the other hand, was a quiet boy, favoring his mother with his sharp features and moss-brown eyes. He followed his brother around for years without complaint. That quietude lingered into his teenage years, but when he fell for a human girl, it sparked a fierce possessiveness. He fought for her, both verbally and physically, a devotion that changed him. His attitude was often defensive and quick to judge, but his love and loyalty for his family were unparalleled, even surpassing his older brother.

Jimin had always fascinated me. From the moment he was born, he had the village at his feet. His father had been a formidable figure, embodying the strength our people revered. His choice of bride was unusual, but everyone believed Ji-Won was up to the challenge of handling Mi-Jeong. Jimin, like his father, possessed all the traits of a Park: charm, wit, courage. What set him apart was the hidden sweetness he kept from the world. I saw it. I had always seen it.

The first glimpse I got of that sweetness was when he chased butterflies in his backyard. He was no older than four, but even at that age, boys were expected to show maturity. In public, Jimin was the epitome of a perfect child. Yet, watching him blow bubbles and giggle as he chased a monarch butterfly, I knew his public persona was an act.

Now, that same sweetness was on display once more, though in a far more public and painful manner. Jimin had shut himself off, avoiding conversations and shunning his closest friends, hiding away and waiting for the other piece of his heart to return. It was a strange sight: Park Jimin, usually so strong, now weak and in agony.

As Mi-Jeong’s eyes met mine, I saw the same sadness and worry reflected in her. I hoped her family would pull together, but I doubted it would happen until Bridd returned, if she ever did. The thought of the Park family’s fate if she didn’t come back sent a shiver down my spine.

I didn’t stop to talk to anyone, as I usually did. My mind was too scattered, and frankly, I was done with conversation. A constant stream of thoughts and voices in your head will do that. Fortunately, no one seemed put off by my silence. We were all grappling with uncertainty since losing one of our strongest fighters.

“Anything new, dog?”

The voice slithered through the air, smooth and grating, a rasp that scraped against my nerves. I clenched my teeth, trying to ignore the familiar sting. With a deep, slow breath, I turned to face the source of my irritation.

Seokjin was there, of course. He had become my personal Dante’s Inferno over the past few days. The man had a grudge that could outlast a vampire’s curse, and he still hadn’t forgiven me for taking a swing at his friend. His face was a storm cloud, eyes dark with disdain. Beside him, Yoongi was a ghost of his former self. He looked worse than ever—thin and ragged, like a paper doll battered by the wind. His hair was a disheveled mess, and his once vibrant blue eyes had dulled further, his pupil barely visible.

“Unfortunately not,” I said, keeping my voice even, though I wanted nothing more than to escape this confrontation. “A few are still out searching, but I was pulled away.”

“Hmft,” Seokjin crossed his arms, a gesture that seemed to tighten the knot of irritation on his face. “Figures.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I snapped, irritation bubbling up.

I never did like much about him.

“You don’t give a damn if you find her or not,” Seokjin’s voice was thick with anger, each word dripping venom. “None of you do.”

My patience was fraying, “That’s not true—”

“It’s that bitch’s fault she’s gone,” Seokjin shouted over me, his voice cracking like a whip.

“Stop yelling,” I said, struggling to keep my composure. The scene we were causing was spiraling out of control. My father would lose his mind. “I know what Sol did. None of us are happy about it, but I’m not a god. I can’t rewind time or bring her back. What’s done is done.”

“Yet you still follow her orders like some lapdog.”

“I follow Taehyung,” I corrected, my voice tight with restrained frustration. “By extension, that means I follow his wife. We’re at war, Seokjin. I’m sorry about Bridd, truly, and I hope she’s safe, but my life doesn’t revolve around her. I have a village to protect, a village she isn’t in. I won’t abandon it to chase shadows.”

Seokjin’s face was a furnace of rage now, tears brimming in his eyes. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity for him. Bridd was a close friend of his, and she had abandoned them—harsh words, but accurate in the rawest sense. The others had voiced their disgust when she vanished, their anger directed at our governing bodies. Sol had barred them from the Temple after one of Seokjin’s entourage had lashed out. Since that night, they’d remained cloaked in silence, not a whisper of their departure from the Park house.

“You’re going to let her die,” Seokjin’s accusation was a punch to the gut, raw and brutal.

Yes, if it meant saving my own. Bridd was a distant concern compared to the stakes at hand. I barely knew her; respect didn’t equate to prioritizing her over my sister. In this high-stakes game, I had to trust that she could handle herself and accept it.

“Jin,” Yoongi’s voice cut through the tension, soft yet firm. I had almost forgotten he was there. “Let it be. Namjoon has done what he can. Let’s return to Mi-Jeong’s.”

I was relieved that Yoongi seemed more composed than Seokjin. I sneaked a glance at him and was glad to see his hair growing back, a sign he was getting enough to eat. It was a small comfort, considering the grim reality of his condition. Yoongi’s blindness wasn’t just a loss; it was a nightmare. I remembered how his pain had been described—a brutal assault on his senses, panic attacks ripping through him like storm winds. Samanya had said the spell should have killed him, and his survival, with only his eyesight lost, was a cruel twist of fate.

“But—”

“Drop it,” Yoongi said, his voice a low rumble, stopping Seokjin before he could unleash another tirade. Without turning his head, he addressed me. “I apologize for his callousness. We’re all on edge. I hope you understand.”

This was the most I’d heard Yoongi speak, even during our time at Bridd’s cottage in the Spring. “It’s not an issue. I hope you’re feeling better.”

It was unnerving to talk to someone who couldn’t meet my gaze. Yoongi’s eyes, unseeing and vacant, stared blankly at the village’s edge. His voice was gruff and monotonous, a strange contrast to the depth of the situation.

“I am fine,” he replied. “We’re here because my mother wanted to know how far you believe she could have gone. I’ll tell her that she must have shifted and lost her scent.”

“Thank you,” I said, relieved by his ability to keep Seokjin quiet. “She was on a houseboat for a few hours before she left. Any ideas?”

“Thelma,” Seokjin grunted. “She must have rested and then taken off. Was anything missing?”

I shrugged. “I couldn’t say. Sorry.”

Seokjin shook his head angrily, a futile gesture.

“No need to apologize,” Yoongi said, raising a hand in a dismissive motion. It was unclear what he intended, but I chose not to dwell on it. “We’ll leave you alone now.”

Seokjin opened his mouth to argue but thought better of it. I smirked, feeling a bit of triumph. Yoongi’s presence was a useful deterrent for the annoying one. Scowling, Seokjin wrapped an arm around Yoongi and turned towards the residential district, their figures fading into the distance.

Taehyung was pacing when I finally found him in the Temple library. Books were strewn across the tables like fallen soldiers, pages ripped from their bindings stacked haphazardly at the edge of a massive oak table that had seen better days. His blonde hair was a shaggy mess, the back grazing his neck while the front hung just past his ears. Thick, wavy bangs spilled over his eyebrows, so long they were kept at bay by a headband.

The sight of him worried me. Taehyung was unraveling, a fraying thread in a tapestry of stress. He managed to keep it together during the elder meetings, putting on a brave face to avoid giving Ahn any satisfaction. But anyone could see the cracks beginning to show. Jimin was doing his best to keep Taehyung from falling apart, but he had his own demons to battle.

I had taken it upon myself to pick up the slack where Taehyung faltered. I owed it to both him and Jimin after my role in their exile. Taehyung, ever the forgiving soul, was more generous with grace than Jimin. But I knew I was skating on thin ice. Others might have taken my head for the disrespect I’d shown. Jimin might have if he wasn’t so focused on keeping the peace with his mate.

I needed to focus on the task at hand. Taehyung had summoned me for a reason, and I had to be there for him. His pacing showed no signs of stopping as I entered, a bad omen for the kind of conversation I was about to have. He seemed to find a semblance of calm when we discussed strategy, a fleeting solace in the chaos.

“Sorry for the delay, Tae,” I said, my voice soft and steady, hoping to cut through his distress.

He paused, his eyes bloodshot and glossy, cheeks flushed like someone had poured a pot of boiling water on them. His lower lip quivered despite his best efforts to steady it. Taehyung’s emotional rawness was always a puzzle. He was kind, gentle, a giant child who laughed at his own clumsiness and played with his younger siblings as if he were still a child himself.

He never shied away from tears. When Jimin’s father died, neither he nor Ji-Hyun shed a tear in public, though I knew better than to believe they didn’t grieve privately. Their show of stoicism was celebrated, a mask of bravery they wore for the town. Taehyung struggled to wear that mask as seamlessly as Jimin had.

Taehyung’s father hadn’t died in a blaze of glory. No heroics, just illness. Ahn had called him weak for succumbing to an infected wound, a sentiment not widely shared but unchallenged. My own mother, a loyalist to Ahn, had called him cruel for further tormenting a grieving family.

“I didn’t realize it had been so long,” Taehyung mumbled, resuming his restless pacing.

In that moment, he looked more like his father than ever. Dong-Min had been respected and wise, but he wasn’t the sort to attract crowds. An artist from Viridi Gramine, his works were beautiful, but he remained in the shadows. He’d found his muse in Hana, who had come from an abusive home. They had fled Withertusk together, and their troubles had melted away in Foxglove.

“You’re upset,” I said bluntly. Taehyung preferred directness. “What’s wrong?”

“Have I done something wrong?” His voice cracked, the tremor betraying his tears. “I want your honesty, Namjoon. Have I done anything horrible to her?”

“To who?” I asked, stepping closer to comfort him. His shoulders shook with quiet sobs, an effort to hide his pain from the world. It never occurred to me that he was trying to conceal his suffering so well. I had always misread him. He could only shake his head, eyes squeezed shut as new tears poured forth.

I wrapped him in an embrace, feeling the weight of his grief pressing into me. The last time he had cried on my shoulder was at his father’s funeral, a day when Ahn’s cruel words had cut him to the bone. Taehyung had stumbled out of the building, bleeding and torn, begging me to hold him. My father, showing rare kindness, had taken him home to clean up.

“You could never wrong her,” I said, not great with comfort but hoping my words would help. “Whatever happened between you two is just a wrinkle in time. Sol is angry with herself. She loves you, and she knows how much you love her.”

Tae sniffled, his cries muffled against my shoulder.

“Not Sol,” he sobbed. “Y/N.”

That was a harder pill to swallow. I could spout meaningless platitudes about his mate all day. Their love was a given. Taehyung had been furious with her for talking to Jimin behind his back, but I knew they’d work through it. Their bond was strong. His relationship with Y/N, though, was a different matter. I had never witnessed it firsthand, but I knew it was meaningful. Taehyung saw her as the older sister he never had, but I felt ill-equipped to guide him through this grief.

“You didn’t do anything to her, Tae,” I reasoned. “She made a choice to leave. She didn’t harbor ill will towards you. She even left you a note with your necklace. Doesn’t that say something?”

The red gem from Bridd’s gift pressed against my skin, a bittersweet reminder of her kindness. Taehyung had worn the necklace since reading the note, a gesture he hadn’t truly earned but had been given nonetheless. I had my own connection to Bridd through that journal she gave me, which had turned into a poetry book. I respected her, and that respect guided me in my attempt to console Taehyung.

“I told Sol,” Taehyung whimpered. “I told her after she asked me to keep quiet. It’s all my fault—”

“I’m done with the blame game,” I sighed, gently pushing him back to arm’s length. I gripped his shoulders. “Everyone’s been wallowing in self-pity. Y/N left to find help. No one forced her to do that. You and I both know she’s capable. Stop acting like she’s dead. She’s out there trying to help us. We need to stay focused.”

“What if she…” His voice faltered, unable to utter the word “death.”

“Then we make sure her sacrifice isn’t in vain,” I said, releasing him. “We plan, strategize, and fight tooth and nail against those things. For Bridd.”

I didn’t relish invoking her name this way, but I knew Taehyung would cling to it. Her name was a beacon of hope in this dark time. His eyes ignited with a renewed fire, the heat returning to them.

“For Bridd,” he echoed, as if making a solemn vow.

Inside, I prayed for her safe return. I was unsure how long this newfound fire would last, or what would happen if it burned out of control. Taehyung was obsessive by nature. As a child, he painted like his father, sculpted like our grandmother, and later, dived into gardening. Now, I feared his focus would be consumed by this war. He wasn’t ready for what was coming, but I had to believe in his strength.

“You should go see your mom,” I said sincerely. “I’m sure Jong and Jin miss you.”

I left unsaid my concerns about him being cooped up in the Temple since his return.

He nodded, “I will. Let one of the maids know I’ve left. I don’t want Sol to worry.”

“You’re not telling her you’re leaving?”

He frowned. “We’re not on speaking terms at the moment.”

Oh, Bridd, why did you have to leave? Why did Sol have to stir things up? Seeing Taehyung so defeated was a blow. The fire I had ignited in him didn’t soothe my worries. He was still adrift, and I feared my attempts at comfort had done more harm than good. Maybe it would have been simpler to let him cry it out. Navigating whether I’d said or done the right thing was a far more daunting task.

The day slipped through my fingers like a handful of sand, the minutes eroded by the grind of endless work. After my talk with Taehyung, he had gone off to find his siblings, while I remained buried in the heavy silence of the library. Despite our grim business of war, we still had our East Coast obligations to handle. Hours ticked by as I drafted warnings and travel advisories, scribbling frantically until my hand ached.

When the time came to face the maps spread across the tables, I hoped the change in scenery would spark a breakthrough. The library was a cavern of paper and ink, and I dived into its depths, searching for something—anything—that might tip the scales in our favor.

But the talk of war had become a cacophony of angry voices. My father and Jimin were at each other’s throats, each stubbornly clutching their own version of strategy. My father wanted to march straight into Northorn, to meet our enemy head-on. Jimin, with his uncanny knack for seeing beyond the obvious, thought it was nothing short of idiocy. He argued that the elves would have the upper hand on unfamiliar ground. Our pack knew the forest better than anyone; it was our home turf, and it should be our advantage.

Jungkook and I were on the same page, much to my relief. We didn’t want to die, but if the situation demanded it, we would. He leaned towards Jimin’s strategy, favoring a defensive stance in Bangtan. It made the most sense—until the elves found a way to stir up trouble.

The witches from Syrena arrived in the late afternoon, a storm of anger and despair. Their leader had fallen during the attack, leaving them in the care of the swamp witch. I felt a pang of sympathy for them, as they stumbled into our midst. Their rage was palpable, their grief a raw wound that bled into everything they did.

Yoongi was on my mind again. He was adjusting to his blindness, but the idea of him fighting was laughable. He was a fantastic fighter when he could see, but now he was little more than dead weight. It was a shame—he had been a force to be reckoned with, even if a spell had temporarily taken him out. I had no doubt he’d be back, even if it meant defying orders. His death, when it came, would be a dignified one.

Then there was Seokjin. He surprised me in ways I hadn’t anticipated. Despite my dislike for the witch, I had to admit the man could fight. He had defended his girlfriend, taken down countless elves, and even saved his father’s life. I hoped we could set aside our differences and train together. It was crucial that we learned to fight as a unit. I planned to discuss this with Jimin later.

Before I could lose myself further in thought, I caught her scent. The sweet, cloying aroma of Sol was unmistakable, a stark contrast to the damp, cold air of the library. Her bare feet were a whisper against the marble floor, and I braced myself for the encounter. Sol’s attempt to mask her natural scent had always been a losing battle, but I couldn’t fault her for it. Ahn had stripped her of her self-confidence, leaving her to second-guess everything about herself.

She appeared before me, her small figure framed by the ornate grandeur of the library. Her hair, unbound and flowing, was a cascade of dark waves, a sharp contrast to the cold sterility of the surroundings. I couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable with her exposure. Modesty was an old relic, but Sol had been taught its importance, and Ahn had made sure she lived in its shadow.

“Luna,” I greeted, my voice tentative. “Your hair…”

She sighed, as if resigned to my reaction. Her tone was edged with annoyance, but I couldn’t decipher why. Ahn had instilled in her a warped sense of propriety, and the way she wore her hair now seemed to mock it.

“Does it matter?” she murmured, a hint of bitterness in her voice. “We all know I’m no longer virtuous.”

I frowned. “Your virtue isn’t tied to your virginity, Sol.”

I could feel the discomfort between us, the unspoken boundaries crossed. Sol’s presence was like a weight on my chest, and I had to force myself to remain composed. Taehyung would be devastated if he caught us in such an awkward position. I stood up, putting a respectful distance between us, and turned my attention to the doorframe, trying to look anywhere but at her.

“What’s bothering you?” I asked, keeping my voice steady. “Aside from the obvious.”

I leaned against the doorframe, peering into the hall, grateful for the distance it offered. I heard Sol take a seat in the chair I had vacated, the sound of her movements marking her presence more than her words.

“You must think I’m pathetic,” Sol’s voice was a fragile whisper.

“Why would I think that?” I countered, genuinely puzzled.

She laughed, a hollow sound that resonated with self-deprecation. “You’ve been a constant in my life longer than anyone. You were there before Taehyung. You and I were almost betrothed, according to my father.”

The mention of Ahn made my skin crawl. He was no father of hers. The real truth was darker—Ahn had taken her from her real parents, Cho Haneul and Bong Ha-Yun, who had vanished from the village under suspicious circumstances. Whispers hinted at banishment or worse, but I’d always taken my mother’s word that Ahn had been behind it all.

“I’ve never been fair to you,” Sol continued, her voice trembling. “I was mean, rude, and cold. I wanted Jimin so badly that I mistreated you. I’m sorry for that.”

I listened, indifferent. Sol’s words were a weak balm to old wounds. I knew her well enough to understand her manipulations, her selfishness veiled under layers of false remorse.

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral.

“You knew me before Taehyung did. I know you didn’t like me, but I trust your opinion. I know I don’t deserve your kindness, but I’m asking for it anyway.”

Her voice was weary, and I found myself disenchanted with her pleas. I reminded myself of her age and the naivety that came with it, but it didn’t soften the irritation I felt. She had made mistakes, breached boundaries, and caused chaos, all while thinking she could remain unscathed.

“Am I a bad person?” she asked, her voice barely more than a breath.

“No,” I said firmly, though it was hard to mask my irritation. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll lie to make you feel better. You’ve caused enough damage, and it’s your responsibility to deal with the consequences.”

Her soft sniffles were a distant echo to my frustration. She had stirred trouble and failed to take responsibility for it. I wasn’t here to placate her. I was here to get through the day.

“I’m not the one to offer you comfort,” I said, turning away. “Seek solace from your maids. They’re trained to dry tears; I’m not.”

With that, I left the library, my mind already set on finding a place to rest. The Temple was no refuge from the turmoil of the day, but it was all I had. Maybe Sam would be around, and her company would be a welcome distraction. Her beauty and confidence had always been a bright spot, even if I wasn’t ready to entertain any advances. Tonight, though, I’d take any semblance of normalcy I could get.

I had no desire to return to my family home. Spending too long around my parents was like slowly going mad. The pretense I maintained with my father was exhausting, and my mother—well, she never had the backbone to stand up to him. My childhood was a grim carousel of beatings, with my mother watching, her own misery forgotten as long as she avoided the brunt of his rage. By the time Mini arrived, those days were behind us, and my father had stopped drinking. Our relationship had improved, but the bitterness lingered, festering like a wound that never fully healed. Sometimes, I wondered if I truly hated them both.

Lately, I had been crashing at Hoseok’s place. But he’d asked for some space, and I was buried in work, too tangled up to find another spot to crash. It was a far cry from the opulent room I had at the Temple, but the Temple had become a place I loathed. I’d have joined Jimin and the rest of the copiae, but the weight of my responsibilities kept me tied down. Stepping down as head council would mean my father or Bo would handle public relations, and the thought of that was enough to make me want to gnaw my own arm off. Taehyung would go berserk if those two were left in charge.

I racked my brain for other friends to stay with. The Parks would welcome me, but their home was overflowing with guests. Yoongi and the swamp witch’s families were still there, Jin’s group was with Taehyung’s family, and the Syrena witches were scattered among the wolf families and humans. They’d planned to stay at the Temple, but Sol had made a mess of that arrangement. Everything had spiraled out of control faster than I could keep up with.

“Lost in thought?” Jimin’s voice cut through my musings.

I stopped in my tracks, realizing I had wandered into the copiae grounds. Jimin lounged on his porch, a large glass in hand, his face shadowed by a dark expression. The sharp scent of alcohol reached me even from the street. I approached him, trying to ignore the tumultuous thoughts of my father.

“You’re drunk,” I observed, taking the glass from his hand and sniffing it. Mead, probably from Jungkook’s stash. “This isn’t going to help.”

He shrugged, a gesture of defeat. “I know. Just needed a distraction.”

Here I was again, being dragged into someone else’s emotional wreckage. Even if Jimin hadn’t asked outright, I knew I’d end up hauling him inside and making him sleep. At least, I could crash here afterward. Tomorrow, I’d make sure he ate something and then convince him to help me go over documents at the Temple. He was the battle strategist, after all.

“I’m not in the mood for a heart-to-heart,” I said bluntly. “I’ve already dealt with two sob stories today, and my patience is shot. So you’re going to let me help you, and we’ll talk in the morning.”

Jimin leaned back, sweat glistening on his forehead and his hair a tangled mess. He looked uncharacteristically disheveled. I rubbed my face in frustration.

“Fine,” I sighed, “how about this: I need a place to sleep. I can’t stand Taehyung and Sol right now, and you—” I gestured at him, “—look like hell. Obviously, you’re a mess, but the pack needs you to pull yourself together so we can get through this.”

Jimin didn’t move. He remained like a statue, eyes fixed on something distant. “I’ll stay the night. Tomorrow, we’ll talk feelings or whatever. Then, we’ll come up with a plan to get you back in the game. Sound good?”

He rolled his eyes, a humorless laugh escaping his lips. “What’s the point?” His face crumpled in despair. I felt lost at sea, unable to handle his sorrow. Thankfully, he composed himself, though the heaviness lingered. “What’s the point of anything? Without her... it just doesn’t matter.”

I sat down beside him, the cold, rough wood against my legs. I tried to focus on this as a conversation between friends. Jimin had never asked me for anything before. When Taehyung was chosen, Jimin had been the first to urge me to stand firm against Ahn. I had been foolish, ignoring his advice. Now he needed me to be the rock, and I couldn’t let him down.

We couldn’t keep going like this. Jimin wasn’t in the right frame of mind, and I knew the only way to get him back on track was to think of something drastic. My mind was already spinning a plan, one that had seemed hopeless earlier, but now felt like a desperate gamble. Maybe, just maybe, giving him a glimmer of hope might help him pull himself together. Feeling a pang of guilt, I decided to go for it and face the consequences later.

“I know you’re hurting,” I said, trying to soften my tone, unsure if it worked. “I can’t even imagine what you’re going through. When you and Taehyung were gone, the guilt nearly ate me alive. It must be worse for you.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he started to protest, but I brushed it off.

“I think I do. No one else seems to be,” I said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We’re in deep trouble right now, Park. We need you.”

Jimin shook his head. “I wouldn’t be much help right now, Joon.”

“I don’t believe that,” I replied. “Honestly, anything you do would be better than the mess you’ve got going on. And by the way, your girl’s on my side. She’d be furious if she knew how much you’ve been slacking.”

That made him chuckle softly.

“That’s fair,” he said, a wan smile spreading across his flushed face. “She’s such a little firecracker, isn’t she?”

I nodded. “She once tried to set me on fire.”

We shared a laugh, remembering that day. Truth was, she scared the hell out of me. If she had really wanted to hurt me, she could’ve. I’d barely escaped with just a few scratches and bruises. Jimin had beaten me senseless when she got hurt, but I had a lifetime of memories that made me untouchable. Bridd, however, was another story.

“What if I made you a deal?” I asked, catching his attention.

He perked up. “What kind of deal?”

“If we make it through the next wave on top, I’ll help you find her.”

His eyes sharpened, a flicker of hope lighting up. “Really?”

Guilt twisted in my gut. I didn’t truly believe we’d reach that point. The elves were everywhere, their grip tightening on Northorn with each passing day. We were far from ready, and with traitors in our midst, the situation was dire. The alliance with the quietus was fragile, and the witch problem was something only Jimin could fix. It could be weeks or even months before we could search for Bridd. Still, I had to use her as leverage. We needed strong leadership, and the witch was the best motivation I could offer.

“I’ll go with you,” I said, doubling down. “We can take a small group. I’ve got connections with a quietus who knows the lay of the land. Finding her could be straightforward.”

“You’d do that for me?” He looked genuinely surprised.

I nodded. “If we’re in a position to do it, why not?”

I watched as he mulled it over, the distant look in his eyes dissolving into something clear, almost serene. He was on board. Hope unfurled in my chest like a fragile flower reaching for the sun. With Jimin on my side, dealing with Taehyung would be a breeze. The older alpha’s desire for redemption would give us a leverage, and if Jimin and Taehyung could join forces, we’d have Hoseok back in the mix too.

Things were starting to tilt in our favor. Soon, the elementals and witches would be joining our discussions, the elder council would be edged out by a new generation of leaders, and the war would start to feel like something we could actually manage. I might even be able to recruit a fresh wave of warriors to the copiae once the village saw Jimin’s renewed determination.

“Stay here as long as you need,” Jimin finally said, and I was doing a mental victory dance. “You can crash on the couch.”

I sprang up, ready to hit the sack, and gave his head a playful shove. He chuckled, swatting my hand away. We used to mess around like this all the time as kids—Jimin always had a knack for winning our wrestling matches. He was slippery as an eel.

“Let’s go, kid,” I said, stretching my arms above my head. “We’ve got an early start tomorrow. Council meeting.”

He nodded, reaching out for my help to stand. He must have imbibed more than I realized; it took a lot for alcohol to hit us this hard.

“Hopefully, Taehyung will deal with the two ancient relics in the Temple,” he slurred, stumbling inside and mumbling about how his bed felt like it had swallowed him whole.

A/N: So Joon pov??? How do we like? He's not the only pov switch we're going to have, but we will be seeing a lot of our favorite (to hate) alpha joining our main squad. I thought he would be a good outside mind to get inside of since he's not as emotionally connected to Bridd as the others. Any guesses as to who our other switches might be?

p.s. These pov chapters will be a bit shorter than our normal, reader pov ones, but not by much.

Taglist: @greezenini@adventures-in-bookland@kthstrawberryshortcake-main@zae007live@jimin-neverout@nikkiordonez12@canarystwin@yamekomz @chimthicc@michiiedreamer@amorieus@mima795@yunki-yunki-yunki

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interesting-interludes · 2 years ago

Text

the comforts of creatures (3)

creature comforts:

↳ material/bodily comforts, such as food, warmth, or special accommodations, that contribute to physical ease and well-being

→ pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

→ genre: fantasy!au, soulmate!au, angst with a happy ending, fluff, hurt + comfort + recovery, eventual smut

→ word count: 4.7k

→ summary: after you wake up in a strange place with strange men, you begin to experience kindness for the first time in months, as the boys begin to realize that you aren’t the person that they used to know.

→ trigger/content warnings: effects of isolation, sensory overload, effects of memory loss, low self-worth, jin is a goddamn sweetheart, mentions of torture, mentions of starvation, angst lol, over-complicated plot cause it’s fanfiction lol, the boys trying their best

→ a/n: also lil disclaimer i am obviously not a doctor so kindly disregard any medical impracticalities that may arise thanks loves :)

past part ← series masterlist → next part

part 3: when you forget me

“Who did this to you?”

Staring up into the eyes of the man leaning over you, a shiver runs through your body at the deep, even tone of his voice. For a long moment, you can’t speak, too distracted by the fact that his attention is directed entirely at you.

The dark piercing eyes, the delicate curve of his mouth, the black curly hair hanging over his forehead. It all shocks you still with something you can’t name. Not quite familiarity, but a sense that whoever this man is, it’s a good idea to listen to him.

You sit there choking on your own words as his eyes search your face.

“Are you afraid?” he simply asks.

You nod, tongue dry in your mouth.

His eyebrows furrow slightly. He seems to be staring even deeper into your eyes than before, searching for something.

“Joon,” the man calls, a touch of urgency in his voice.

One of the taller ones, the man with short brown hair, approaches you. And you can’t help but notice his build.

He’s broad with long, thick limbs, no doubt bulked with muscle beneath his many layers. It would be easy for him to overpower you. Hurt you.

Instinctively, you flinch back as he gets closer.

He drops to one knee to meet your eye level, softening his expression when you meet his gaze.

“Hey, hey,” he begins in a calming tone, seemingly sensing your rising anxiety at being confronted. “None of us are going to hurt you. It’s all going to be okay. I promise.”

You don’t believe him. Of course you don’t. But something about his warm eyes, the deep sincerity that lies behind them, makes you release a breath and nod anyway. Or maybe it’s the way that strange feeling in your chest quivers at the sound of his voice.

Offering a slight smile, he then holds up his hands cautiously.

“May I touch your forehead?” he asks.

As if the rhythm of your brain skips a beat, you reel at the question. He's...asking for permission?

You manage a slight nod, watching him closely as he lifts his hands and places one flat against your forehead and the other at the back of your neck.

The others are watching intently, making the air prickle.

Heat blooms under the man’s large hands, spreading down your spine and into your very bones.

Wisps of smoke dance along the edge of your vision. It seems to be coming from him, seeping from his hands, from his mouth, his eyes, which are now clouded over with a milky white film.

A tickling feeling, like the sensation of a string creeping down your throat, seizes your whole body and mind. It’s hot and cool at the same time, singeing your nerve endings yet soothing them as the sensation travels.

Too invasive, it’s too invasive.

It only lasts for a few seconds before you’re jerking out of his grasp. You huff smoke out of your own lungs, desperately trying to expel the strange force that’s permeated your whole body.

Several of the others flinch too. They all seem to be honed in on your every reaction, twitching when you twitch, breath hitching along with yours.

The man withdraws his hands with a placating expression, rising to his feet and backing away to give you some space.

You barely hear it, but he leans over and whispers in Yoongi’s ear.

“We all need to talk. Now.”

You see the smaller man’s jaw clench. His hands ball into fists at his sides, his entire face darkens.

One blink later, and it’s gone, replaced by an expression so heavy, so broken that it nearly brings a sting to your eye.

The only other person Yoongi can bring himself to make eye contact with is Jin.

His hyung understands immediately, letting his eyelids slowly close as all his suspicions are confirmed. He had an inkling, when he found you in that prison cell and you looked at him like he was a stranger. He supposes that now, he essentially is one to you.

It feels like a hit to the gut. He feels the deep ache in the pit of his chest, raw with the knowledge that what’s done can’t be undone. And it hurts like hell.

But he can’t break down now, not in front of the boys, and certainly not in front of you. Your understanding of the situation is extremely fragile right now, and he knows that he needs to lead by example so you can be as comfortable as possible, so you know that you’re safe here with them.

So Jin inhales a clear breath, swallows down his sorrow, and musters up the most composed expression he can manage.

“Alright,” he begins, the whole room looking at him after he breaks the silence, looking for guidance.

“Let’s get you fixed up, hmm?”

You don’t realize that he’s talking to you until he takes a step forward and gestures in your direction.

“Will you follow me?”

You’re realizing that no one is punishing you for making eye contact without permission, so you meet his gaze with a little less hesitation.

The man waits patiently, nothing but gentle concern in his eyes.

Your skin tingles with the feeling of everyone’s gaze on you again, and after your brain slowly processes the question, you rise shakily to your feet and follow him through a nearby doorway.

It’s only after Jin exits the room, after his back is turned, that he lets a few silent tears fall into his sleeve, quick to wipe them away. Because now he needs to do what he does best: heal his clan.

Exhaustion, hunger, and fizzling adrenaline buzz through your veins, your body burned out from running even a short distance. It’s a laborious task to just put one foot in front of the other, but you focus hard to keep up with the man leading you down the hall.

Every step makes your vision blurrier. You can hear your own struggled breathing, feel the burning in your limbs, but the only thing you know how to do is push on and mask how it feels.

Don’t express emotions. Don’t show your pain. It always makes it worse.

Jin pretends not to notice. He has to fight the urge to offer you his arm to lean on, knowing it probably wouldn’t do any good.

You have no idea how long you were asleep or how long you’ve been here, wherever here is. These men don’t seem like a severe threat, at least not now. They haven’t hit you, called you names, spit on you for making noise. But they could be putting on a front, trying to establish a false sense of security.

You’re not letting your guard down anytime soon.

The two of you come to a large, clean room. It’s well-lit, making you squint your eyes against the brightness.

It’s so bright here. And spacious too. Every room seems as wide as a football field.

The man directs you to a bed lined with paper, and you flinch as you sit down, making much more noise than you wanted.

But he doesn’t seem angered by it, he only turns to one of the many cabinets lining the walls.

The familiar squeak and snap of medical gloves. It puts a heavy pit in your stomach. Clenching your teeth, you try to ignore the swell of nausea.

You hear some shuffling, the clink of glass, and then the man is sitting down in a rolling chair next to the bed.

“Do you recognize me?” he asks, slipping a pair of black glasses out of his shirt pocket and putting them on.

A flash of the ashen, vein-mapped face ignites in your memory.

“Yes,” you reply softly, almost flinching at the sound of your own voice in the quiet room.

“Who am I?” He’s looking at you patiently, but there’s a hint of desperation behind it.

“You were in my cell. You’re a—”

Cutting yourself off immediately, you can’t help but recall all the names your captors used to refer to them.

Parasites. Bloodsuckers. Demon spawn.

The man seems to read your mind, but his eyes stay nothing but patient and kind.

“I’m vampiric, yes.”

He busies himself opening a gauze pad and dousing it with disinfectant. When he looks back up at you, it’s with a questioning gaze.

“May I clean your cuts?”

You sit there dumbstruck for a moment. You can’t remember the last time someone cleaned anything for you, let alone asked for permission to do it as if you have some kind of agency. Or spoke to you so...gently.

After a few seconds of silence, you manage a nod.

He offers a slight smile and starts with the shallow cuts and scrapes on your hands. They are overlapped with scars, dirt and dried blood caked under your fingernails.

His touch is warm. It almost makes you jump, the way his skin feels like human skin. You were always told that they were cold creatures, more dead than alive.

Then there’s the alcoholic sting of the disinfectant. That makes you actually jump, but you fight the urge to pull away in case it ends in more pain.

“I’m sorry, it’s going to sting,” he says.

Why is he apologizing? Why is he treating you like this? Like you’re a human and not a creature?

He moves up to the more deep gashes on your arms, applying cream to the worst of them and bandaging them up.

“My name’s Jin. It’s nice to be formally introduced,” the man says, smiling a little painfully.

It hurts him to say it, to admit that he needs to re-introduce himself to you. But at least you’re letting him tend to your wounds. Right now, that’s all he can ask for.

You sit there silently as he moves all the way up to your shoulders, avoiding putting pressure on the deep purple bruises that litter your skin.

“What’s your name?” He knows it, of course he does. And again it hurts to ask, but he knows that this is the best way to go about it, rather than overloading you with the fact that you’ve been here before, that you already know them all.

The question stumps you. You’ve been called many names. Mutt, beast, savage, monster. You don’t remember ever being called anything else.

The man—Jin—seems to sense your inner struggle.

“Can you remember it?” he asks.

With your eyes trained down at the floor, you shake your head.

“Hmm,” he replies, thinking. “Well that just won’t do. What would you like to be called?”

That stumps you even more. Your mind goes as blank as your memory.

Several minutes of silence pass as he tends to the wounds on your neck and face.

The more he looks, the more his blood boils. Your neck is badly bruised, with painful-looking red rub marks all the way around, as if it’s been abused with a number of different things. A tight fist, a ring of rope, a collar.

Your face is covered in scars and yellowing black bruises. Chunks of hair have been ripped from your skull, not to mention that fact that most of your hair has been sloppily cut.

It all makes him want to tear the throats of everyone even associated with that facility. Looking at your face, at the poorly hidden terror that resides in it, Jin tries his hardest to mask his anger so you aren’t frightened by it.

Jin checks for signs of infection while he dabs at the lesions. He notices that you barely flinch, even when it’s clear that you want to. He wonders, feeling sick to his stomach, what happened in that horrifying place.

“You’ve been through a lot of pain,” he says, and you can hear deep sympathy in his voice.

It’s unusual to you, hearing someone sound sorry for you.

You don’t reply, looking down at the floor again.

A few minutes pass, with him continuing to patch up your wounds while you sit there motionless. After Jin finishes the last bandage, he hesitates, looking at you with another question in his eyes.

“Wound you mind removing your shirt?”

It makes you turn cold, arms unconsciously wrapping protectively around yourself.

“No? Okay, we don’t have to do that,” he says almost immediately, shifting his attention to your legs instead.

“Any internal pain or other symptoms?”

You only answer with a dull shake of your head when he looks up at you expectantly.

He raises an eyebrow like he doesn’t believe you for a second.

“It’s okay to tell me. I’m a doctor.”

You still don’t say anything, despite the sharp pain in your stomach and the incessant pounding in your head. Too many times you’ve encountered doctors that did nothing but use their knowledge of your body against you.

The last thing you want to do is admit weakness.

For a very brief moment, Jin’s face flashes with disappointment, and you feel your gut lurch with guilt. The next second he’s gathering more equipment from the cart next to the bed.

“Would you mind if I did a few more basic checks?” he asks.

This time you indulge him with a slight nod, and you’re rewarded with a smile that plumps up his cheeks and makes that something in your chest jump.

He checks your heartbeat, your temperature, your blood pressure, among other things that you don’t recognize.

You accept it all with quiet compliance, still fighting the urge to flinch away with every touch. Because every time he touches you, your heartbeat stalls against your will, heat blazing across the spot where his skin met yours.

He always treats you softly and with compassion, making your eyes burn with the urge to cry.

He removes his gloves after he’s done, tossing them, along with the used gauze, into a bin.

“I’m going to give you some antibiotics to fight infection, and something for your pain,” he informs you.

Again, all you do is sit there silently, head tilted down towards the ground.

Jin fights off a sad frown as he turns to one of the cabinets and shuffles through the many pill bottles. Finding the ones he’s looking for, he empties a few into his hand, grabbing a stray water bottle from the counter.

When he hands them to you, you take them very hesitantly. Your heart rate picks up considerably when he continues to stand there, clearly intent on watching you take them.

Slowly, you take a swig from the bottle and raise your cupped hand to your lips. You feign tilting the contents of your palm into your mouth, swallowing as little of the water as possible in case it too is laced with something. You’ve gotten quite good at pretending to take pills, so he easily believes you.

When he turns around, you spit the water back into the bottle as quietly as you can and tuck the pills into your makeshift pants pocket.

“Alright,” Jin says as he turns back to face you. “Now let’s get you something to eat.”

The air is heavy, sucked dry from the words out of Yoongi’s mouth. The six of them stand there silently, feeling gutted.

Hoseok is the first to string together a comprehensible sentence.

“I...I can’t believe it.”

None of them can. Almost ten years, gone. The years spent living with them, loving them, getting to know them better than anyone else in the world, all wiped away.

You can’t remember essentially growing up with the maknaes. You can’t remember studying spells with Yoongi, nearly surpassing him in knowledge and skill. You can’t remember all the times Jin nursed you back to health after protecting the others in a fight, or when you would explode laughing at one of Hobi’s jokes while still in recovery, Jin snapping at him to knock it off because you’d broken your ribs again.

And all the years spent earning your trust, earning their trust, building your confidence, carving your place in their souls, all gone from your mind.

“How?” Jungkook asks, voice thick with hopelessness.

“A riamemors spell,” Yoongi replies. His arms are crossed as he leans back on the counter, eyes trained on the ground. His expression is unreadable, but they all know that he’s been hit just as hard.

None of them know as much about casting as Yoongi does, not even Namjoon, but almost every Northerner knows what that spell does. It means “death of memories,” and it cannot be reversed.

The F&F has been abusing it for decades. First using it in weak doses on humanic people to keep them ignorant about the realities of atypicals, then using it full potency on atypicals to make them mindless slaves.

They don’t know what that facility was planning on using you for, but clearly they didn’t want you to have your memories to do it.

“How strong?” Taehyung asks. His eyes are glassy, chin wobbling despite his efforts to fight it.

They all look to Namjoon for the answer. One of the abilities of wraiths is delving into a person’s mind through touch, including their memories.

Namjoon’s face holds a deep sorrow. Your head is a very dark place.

“Nearly full strength,” he replies. “We aren’t there. Not at all.”

Half of them feel sick to their stomachs, the other half burn with rage.

“What does she remember?” Jimin asks, eyes glassy.

Namjoon’s jaw clenches.

“A bit from childhood, her parents, and...the facility.”

It looks like it physically hurts him to say it. A long, weighted moment of silence.

“Joon?” Yoongi says, looking up for the first time since they entered the kitchen.

The younger man meets his elder’s gaze, waiting in anticipation for what he will say next. The redness in Yoongi’s eyes makes Namjoon want to hug him.

“What happened there?” Yoongi finally brings himself to ask.

Namjoon’s throat bobs as everyone looks at him once again. It all comes back to him, the pain, the torture, the loneliness felt through your skin. The shadow of it, at least. The memory of it. The real thing must’ve felt much worse.

“Let us see,” Jimin suddenly says, taking an eager step forward.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jimin,” Namjoon replies, gravely serious.

“It would help us get inside her head, see what she’s dealing with,” he argues, looking around for support.

Taehyung and Jungkook look just as eager, while Hoseok looks tempted by morbid curiosity. Yoongi’s trying not to make eye contact, worried that it might give away the fact that he secretly agrees with Jimin.

Seeing that he’s clearly outnumbered, Namjoon lets out a defeated sigh.

“Alright, but just a glimpse,” he says.

They begin to gather closely around Namjoon, until he holds a hand up.

“Not you, Jimin,” he says sternly.

“Why?” the shorter man whines, upset at being the only one left out.

“I really don’t think you should see this. For your own good.”

Everyone knows that Jimin was briefly imprisoned at a one of the same facilities, and every so often he gets triggered and descends into a rapid downward spiral plagued with nightmares and flashbacks.

He looks around and finds the rest of them looking at him imploringly. When he looks at Hoseok and Yoongi, they both give him a silent nod.

Jimin sighs and lets his shoulders sag. Despite the itch of not knowing, he trusts his partners to take care of him.

“Okay, hyung,” he says, stepping away to stand at the edge of the room.

Namjoon takes a deep inhale when they’ve all huddled in a semi-circle around him. Smoke begins to unfurl from his hands, his eyes clouding over. When he opens his mouth, a thick stream of gray vapor pours from his lips.

Everyone leans over to breath it in while Jimin covers his mouth and pinches his nose.

They feel it burn down their throats and warm their lungs, singeing all along their veins until it reaches the depths of their minds.

Then their vision goes dark, eyes clouding over just like Namjoon’s. Cold fear crawls up their spines, the ghost of hunger sitting in their bellies.

A thousand images, feelings, and sensations flash through them.

Countless miserable nights sleeping on hard, wet stone. Being wakened with a bucket of freezing water. Gagging on rotten food scraps to soothe the never ending ache of starvation.

A slap to the face every time you looked at an overseer without permission. Because you are beneath them, not even worthy to see the color of their eyes.

A kick to the ribs every time you made a single sound, every time you even breathed too loud.

The sting of needles, the heat of an iron brand. Electric shocks right to the nerve endings when you fell asleep without permission. Cigarettes stubbed out on your skin.

A spit in the face. Spit in your food, then being forced to eat it because it’s all you have. Having to lick water droplets off the rusted pipes.

Open wounds, tender bruises. An ache so deep it feels like you were born with it. Chained in awkward, uncomfortable positions for hours on end.

Disgusting thing. You are nothing. You will never leave this place. You disgrace the ground you walk on. I wish I could kill you myself.

Jungkook rips away first. He heaves the smoke out with violent, forceful breaths, stumbling back like it will distance him from what he’s seen.

Hoseok and Taehyung follow soon after, jerking away as they try to cough the memories out.

Yoongi lingers the longest. When he finally pulls away, his eyes are brimming with moisture.

None of them can hold it in any longer. Taehyung bursts into tears, face scrunching up with the weight of it all. He turns to the one closest to him, which is Jungkook, and lets his head fall on his on shoulder.

Jungkook automatically puts a comforting hand on his head, fighting back tears himself.

Seeing someone they love go through all that, seeing them get treated like dirt, it hurts it hurts it hurts.

Hoseok nearly bites through his tongue. All he can think about is revenge, making the ones who did this to you regret it more than they’ve ever regretted anything in their lives.

Jimin feels like he might throw up. Not because he’s in pain, but because he’s seeing his mates in pain, so much pain. And their pain pales in comparison to yours.

He’s grateful to Namjoon, grateful that he didn’t let him see inside your head.

Jungkook’s chest hiccups with sobs, and Jimin takes hold of Taehyung so Jungkook can fold up against Hoseok.

Tae buries his head in the fold of Jimin’s neck. Hoseok wraps Jungkook in a bear hug to soothe his hitching breaths.

Yoongi, who’s held strong up until this point, finally succumbs and lets himself go limp in Namjoon’s hold, who was right behind him in case he should need him.

For several minutes, the air is filled with nothing but heart-wrenching cries and quiet snivels.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, she’s safe now,” Namjoon says to no one in particular, still supporting Yoongi’s weight.

Jungkook’s gaze has gone foggy. The hell of that place won’t get out of his head. All he can think of is how he wasn’t there, he wasn’t there to take the pain instead. It should’ve been him.

Taehyung’s balling like a baby, he couldn’t speak if he tried to. His chest is close to bursting, swollen with so many emotions that he can’t decide which ones hurt the most. The pain of knowing what you went through, the rage towards the ones responsible, the guilt of not being there to protect you, the sorrow of knowing that he’s a stranger to you now.

Jimin is torn between breaking down himself and being strong for his mates. He feels the pressure behind his eyes, but he blinks it away and holds Taehyung tighter, rubbing soothing circles on his back.

“Why?” Tae asks in a broken voice, finally saying what they’re all thinking.

Why would anyone do this?

“They must’ve not wanted her to know what she was capable of,” Namjoon answers.

It makes sense. You were a skilled caster along with Yoongi, the spells you and him collaborated on were some of the most powerful they’d ever seen. You were incredibly knowledgeable after spending years studying alongside Namjoon, partnering with him during many of his research projects.

You were always sharp, strong, and absolutely deadly in your final form.

“What are we going to do?” Jungkook asks, barely above a whisper.

“What we’ve always done,” Yoongi replies almost instantly, shifting to fully support his own weight. “We’re gong to do what’s best for her.”

Seeing him regain his quiet composure gives the rest of them the strength to wipe the last of their tears away.

“She’s been kept in isolation, starved...tortured.”

They all hear the catch in Yoongi’s voice at the word.

“Her trust in people has been completely broken. It will take some time before she feels safe again, before she can handle a normal diet, before she’s comfortable with being touched.”

That part is going to be difficult for most of them. After all the years of hand holding, cuddling, all the comforting embraces, it’s going to be hard to refrain from trying to soothe you with physical touch.

“No doubt she’s overwhelmed and confused as it is,” Yoongi says, then he pauses like he’s gearing up to say something difficult.

“So I think it’s best if we don’t overwhelm her further by telling her who we are. At least not now.”

Silence. Uncomfortable, choking silence.

“Just...pretend we haven’t met before?” Hoseok says, disbelieving.

“Not pretend, just...don’t acknowledge it,” Yoongi says. “Right now, we’re just a group of strangers that whisked her away from everything she ever knew.”

“We don’t even know how much she knows about what we are. Everyone knows standard protocol for those places is extended brainwashing,” Namjoon adds.

That makes them stop and think. What does she know about atypicals? Did they make you despise them like Southerners do? Do you even know about the soul bond? Do you even know what you are?

“Won’t that make her feel lied to?” Jimin asks.

“I assume she’d feel more lied to if we tried to convince her that she’s known us for years. It might make her feel like we’re trying to trick her into trusting us,” Namjoon explains.

“It might pressure her into trying to remember things she can’t, to be the person she used to be,” Jungkook says, eyes still glazed over.

And all of them know that you’ll never be the person you used to be.

“She has to trust us on her own, not because we tell her that she should,” Yoongi asserts.

Another stretch of silence.

“For how long?” Tae asks.

“Not for long, just until she feels safe here. Until she decides that she want to stay here, Yoongi continues.

“I don’t know,” Taehyung says. He doesn’t know if he can pretend that you’re not his mate, like you aren’t a vital piece of him.

“We’ll just take it day by day,” Hoseok begins, seeming more convinced by the whole idea. “Right now, our biggest priority should be making her feel safe.”

Nods all around.

“What...” Jimin starts, voice trailing off with uncertainty. “What if she wants to leave?”

None of them can think of a reply to that.

The next second, footsteps sound from the hallway. The shifters can smell you coming, and you no longer stink of dried blood.

Jin rounds the corner, closely followed by your sluggish form, looking exhausted and shaky.

A jolt of fear in your chest from being confronted by all of them again, and the rest of them feel it in the pit of their hearts. The fact that their own mate feels endangered by them, in your own home, elicits a fresh sting.

There’s moment of dull quiet where nobody moves, too afraid to make a wrong move.

Yet again, their leader guides them in the right direction.

Namjoon steps forward with a warm smile on his face, slouching his shoulders to look less tall and threatening in your eyes.

“You must be hungry.”

a/n: thank you for reading til the end! comment any thoughts or reactions i love to hear them :) sorry if i forgot anyone on the taglist!

taglist: @jeepersjiminie @scuzmunkie @anchovyinajar @btsiguess-kpop @btspurplesky @emu007 @goldeneclipsedragon @serendididy @namjoons-bug @angryperfectionpersona @wittyreader @ariavaana @crazy-person @kyrah-williams @leehaechanlee @jinkajous @dolliecat @reallysparklychaos @xmochiloverx @queen-in-the-shadows @astrids-pandora @kapten-xouk @anonynim @massiekurrb @tito-the-mermaid @bangtannie7 @veronawrites @karlalands @gooooomz @iceprincessviviane @mugiwaraelly @iwuzhere @fl0r4f4wn @welcometomyworld13 @chatsgotmytongue @uarmyhore @djodjom1 @singukieee @ee101abc @effielumiere @slinekyu @azalea-nyx @jcrml @schokoshaker @tirouxdreemurr @blancflms @lovelysneer @blackravena @illnevertrustmyselfagain @mirahuyooo @blank-et-noir @sld88

#bts ot7 #bts x reader #bts #bts ot7 fanfic #bts angst #bts fluff #bts hurt/comfort #bts soulmate au #bts supernatural au #bts x female reader #BTS jin #bts yoongi #bts hosoek #bts namjoon #BTS jimin #bts taehyung #BTS jungkook #bts fanfction #bts fantasy au

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writingforsimps · 1 year ago

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Midnight Fang - Poly BTS x Reader (Chapter 0.5)

Summary: The werewolves thought they found all their mates. They never imaged they’d met another, let alone that she’d be a vampire.

Warning: Blood, Alcohol, Mate Au Supernatural AU, Poly Au, Unrequited Love, Rejection, angst (Specific Warnings not mentioned will be made in each chapter this is just a small none specific overview)

[Series Masterlist] -> [Prev] - [Next]

Hungry…

You liked the forest. Trees make only 28% of the oxygen you breathed when you were alive, but the plants and flowers gave a certain life the ocean just couldn’t. The bunny nibbling on bitter lettuce was proof of just how much life these plants brought with them.

The food chain, without those plants a bunny couldn’t eat, and without the bunny a fox couldn’t and so on till the biggest predator dies.

You’ve liked the forest since you were human. Your friend use to call you a forest hippy, going on hikes with you once in a while. The two of you didn’t have the slightest clue anything about nature. All you knew was you loved it, and she tagged along because of that reason. It just felt right. The sun in your face and the dirt in your nails.

Hungry…

Now the sun of your face burns hot even in cold weather and the dirt in your nails feels too odd, to new. The feeling lost to the habit and need to keep your hands clean. So you sit, with muddy white cloth gloves on, a white lacy sun dress that was covered in mud and tears, and torn shoes tied by their laces together on your wrist in a mock, heavy bracelet.

White, light, flow-y, breathable.

Stained, dirtied, cold, exposed.

You were cold, dirtied and your legs were exposed to the elements. The pristine angelic color assigned to you long ruined by the brown mud and dirt. Your dignity falling low, but never low enough to hide behind a trash can. What if a human found you? No, instead you’d die in the woods.

Hungry…

When was the last time you’ve eaten? Three weeks… A person can bleed to death in just five minutes. You knew that. Vampires feed on people’s blood because they cannot supply their own. So while the blood running through your veins and in your cheeks aren’t your own, you try and preserve it. Try not to run out of it.

A person can bleed out in just five minutes, but it took two months to die without food. For you, it’s like a small mixture of the two. Blood leaving your body, you were burning it like it was the energy food was to humans.

You sweat, panting heavily and leaning against a tree. The confusion and anxiety getting to you as you felt your more important organs finally start to shut down.

You knew you wouldn’t survive without a Nest… but that didn’t make it less painful to die.

No.

You couldn’t die. Not with your life like this. Not when you gave up so much to live in the first place. So, in a finally last ditch effort to live.

You screamed.

Jimin heard the screech before any of the his mate did. His ears just worked better then there’s, it was a curse. A curse he thanked every full moon for because that’s how he met his mates. The scream was primal, life or death. Jimin’s head immediately flung in the direction and it was like his body moved on its own when he started running.

Namjoon ran after him, tripping over his own paws at the suddenness of the boys new behavior. He just… took off! It was seconds later he heard the scream as well. A second wave before the quiet. But… why did the quiet make his heart squeeze more then the screams did?

They both raced to the voice. It was odd, usually when you hear screaming you run away but it was like their instincts took over.

_______________

Hi! So I made this chapter as chapter 1! Then I realized I didn’t want it to be chapter one (reasons). And I also couldn’ add it to the prologue! So I’m making it chapter 0.5! Or a teased kind of thing. It’s cannon to the storyline placed in the middle of chapter 1 and the prologue…. Do with that what you will!

It’s really short because it’s half a chapter, real chapters will be longer. dw

#bts x reader #bts x fem!reader #bts x you #hoseok #jimin #junkook #namjoon #poly bts x reader #taehyung #werewolf! bts #supernatural au #vampire reader #vampire #mates #fated mates #short #teaser?#poly bts #bts fanfic

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sopejinsunflower · 5 months ago

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2024.001.020: From Embers to Flames

Go to Series Masterlist!

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Hoseok is restless.

He had tossed and turned so much in his bed that the sheet was all crumpled up and his blanket had somehow ended up on the floor in a pile. He’s staring at a spot on the ceiling, one arm resting across his forehead. He can’t sleep. Everytime he closed his eyes, it felt like he was sinking into the mattress straight down into a void he might never be able to climb back out of. So he kept his eyes open, blinking emptily.

That’s when the door is gently pushed open and Hoseok barely turns to look, confident that it’s Karma - the cat has more free reign of the house than any of them. Only when he felt the bed dipped from the weight did he finally raise his head (and eyebrows). The curtain is opened and the moonlight shines in through the window so it didn’t take long for him to see it’s you.

“Can’t sleep?” you ask in a voice barely a whisper.

Hoseok sits up, criss-crossing his legs under him. “I’d say the feeling is mutual since you’re here.” He smiles, patting the empty spot next to him. You crawl your way over to mirror the way he sits, knee to knee, staring straight ahead out the window. He watches silently the way your chest softly moves up and down and how your eyelashes barely graze the top of your cheeks each time you blink. It has always been something you’ve been insecure about, those short lashes, but Hoseok won’t trade them for anything else. It’s funny to Hoseok how you might change bodies and even gender for each cycle but all these little things would somehow remain similar.

The both of you sit there in silence, Hoseok patiently waiting for you to speak first. The sinking feeling he had earlier is gone and he wonders if it’s because you’re here. Of course it is. He’s just happy to finally be at ease. He leans back against the headboard, watching your side profile.

But what came out of your mouth next felt like a punch to the gut: “I feel like we’ve met before. In another life.”

Hoseok sucks in a breath.

~~~

I turn around to look at him, squinting in the semi darkness to read his face. I didn’t have to look too hard; the answer on his face was clear as day.

He remains silent, looking pale even in the moonlight. I purse my lips and turn away, remembering the promise I made: no questions until Sunday. I nodded to myself before turning back to him. “Forget I said that,” I say, automatically reaching out to touch his knee. “It’s fine, Hoseok.”

I watch his eyes flit over to the knee I’m touching and I quickly remove my hand but Hoseok is faster, covering my hand with his own, warm palm resting fully over my fingers and knuckles, gripping ever so slightly. He scoots closer, eyes downcast, trained on his hand enveloping mine, forehead furrowed. When he looks back up again, there’s a softness in his gaze as he exhales slowly and rests his head back against the headboard.

“Stay here tonight?”

I stare at his hand covering mine, contemplating for a moment whether the answer on the tip of my tongue is the right one. Sighing, I look back up to him. “Not tonight, maybe.” I pull away and climb off the bed. “Goodnight, Hoseok.”

I avoid looking at him in fear that the disappointed look on his face might make me change my mind, hurrying out of the room without another backward glance. It’s only until I cross the threshold of my own bedroom when I realised not looking back had been the wrong thing to do because the hand that wrapped around my upper arm came as such a surprise I let out a yelp loud enough for Karma to jump on all fours from his perch on the new cat tree.

“Hoseok!” I gasp, my heart hammering. “You scared me.”

To his credit, he does look guilty but the smile that spreads on his lips tells me that he found my reaction funny. I swat at his chest, pushing him away. “It’s not funny,” I grumble.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled. “I thought you knew I was right behind you.”

I glare at him, pouting. “What do you want?”

“Nothing,” Hoseok replies, slightly offended. “I just-”

He pauses and I arch an eyebrow, waiting.

He licks his lips before trying again, pupils shaking with nervousness as he stares right back at me. “I just…want you close. Tonight.”

~~~

Hoseok can hear the air that you suck in, can somehow even hear the way your heart doubled its pace as the both of you stand there in the middle of the room, staring at each other in a sort of stalemate of who breaks the silence first.

To be honest, now that he’s said it, he thinks he might throw up if you reject him for the second time that night. His heart is literally in his throat right now and he thinks if he shifts his weight wrong, the whole world might just come crashing down. The ball is in your court now so it’s only right to wait until you make the first move, come what may. Like a child who just wants to cover his ears and squeeze his eyes shut, Hoseok grits his teeth at the strong urge to run out of here.

Words of “No, I told you not tonight” and “seriously, Hoseok?” run through his mind and he half wishes he hadn’t said anything or even chased you back to your room. What an idiot. A desperate idiot. A desperate idiot that couldn’t even take the first subtle no as a complete answer. What did he think would happen? He should just go back to his room now before he makes things worse. Just apologise and leave, Hoseok, he thinks. Just-

Soft lips on his immediately banish the self-deprecating thoughts from his mind. His eyes go wide for a second as his brain catches up with what’s happening before he finally melts into you, catching your lips in between his. His arms silently wind around your waist, pulling you closer ever so slightly, pressing your body up against his so he can feel every soft edge and delicious curves, so he can memorise this body just as he had memorised the other ones, the other you’s - all different yet had felt just as familiar.

His. Theirs. Whatever you want to call it, this is it. This is what it feels like to be away for a long time and finally coming home. This is the same feeling of being lost in a crowd, frantic, until you see a familiar face once more. It’s the same as when you’ve spent an entire day out doing either fun activities or running errands and being able to finally sink into the comfort of your mattress at the end of the day. It's a relief, it’s content. It’s every little comfort in life that he has come to associate with you.

You, who had been so close yet so far away. You, who had been sitting right in front of his eyes these past few months yet going to bed missing you. He had been patient, he had followed the rules. Surely he deserves this, no? A little piece of the heaven he’s been promised if he plays the game right.

When Hoseok feels his feet moving, it’s not him that’s taking the lead. You guide him, mouths still connected, tongue still tangled, towards the bed in clumsy footsteps and he finds himself toppling onto his back. Neither of you break the kiss, not even as you straddle him, leaning chest to chest as you card your fingers through his hair, feeling his fingers dig into your side, probably leaving half-moon shapes on your skin. Neither of you seems to think that breathing is important right now, not when you both can drink in each other, taking it lungful of gulps of whatever that’s flowing through your connected mouths.

In the distant far back of Hoseok’s mind, he thinks there’s a hint of unfairness to this. How would he even explain this to the others? They wouldn’t be jealous per se, but more annoyed that he had, once again, been the first to get a full taste of you. All of them understood it well enough that there’s a ritual to the cycle, a pattern of sorts that forces itself even when they do their damndest to change things. Would that be enough of an excuse once the others find out (because they will find out)?

You pull away from the kiss, forehead remaining flushed against his. “Where are you off to?” You sound curious albeit a little sad and he cranes his neck to smush his lips back on yours, speaking in between kisses, “Sorry. I hope everyone’s really asleep, is all.”

You giggle, sitting back just slightly out of his reach. “We can always stop,” you tease, biting your already swollen lower lip.

“Fuck no,” Hoseok growls as he snakes his fingers on the back of your head and pulls you back in. This time, he’s wise enough to flip you both over, the control finally in his hands. A light bulb goes off in his head as an idea strikes him and with one rough swipe, he pulls your shirt up and over your chest. Shoving the bunched hem in between your teeth, he says, “Now try and stay quiet for me, baby.”

***

Jin picks out a card from Yoongi’s fanned out deck in his hands, smirks, then places a pair of aces into the middle pile.

He turns to Jungkook for his turn to draw. “Do you reckon they know we can hear them?” Jungkook asks nonchalantly as he turns towards Jimin, unable to find a matching pair.

The game of Old Maid had been going on for as long as the muffled ruckus started up in your room, right across from where they are, a method to keep them occupied as well as from bursting in there to catch Hoseok red-handed. But Jin thought that would’ve been too crass and since no one would be able to sleep anyway, they decided on a game of cards.

Jin snorts. “Doubt it.”

Yoongi just shrugs as he pulls out a card from Jimin’s hand. He pauses for a moment, tilting his head. “Is the cat inside?”

They all stop in their tracks, exchanging glances at each other in the silence (somewhat silence - they can hear the creaking of your bed) as they think about the possibility. Jimin shakes his head pitifully. “Poor, poor kitty.”

The game resumes.

Down the hall, as opposed to Taehyung lightly snoring, oblivious to what’s happening close by, Namjoon stands by the opened window, half his body hanging outside, hands pressed against the ledges. He thought that by doing this, he can somewhat distract himself with the nighttime nature but he can hear the quiet moans of your voice and wonders if you had your windows cracked open, too.

Aaagghh!

He wants to scream so bad but the sliver of self control he has has him scrunching up his face like he had tasted something sour, gripping to the window ledge so tight the wood creaks threateningly. Namjoon has no idea of the card game going on in Jin’s room. All he thinks is he wishes he was fast asleep instead, like the others because they seemed unbothered. He had expected for one or even two of them to burst into his room, wide-eyed and in between panic and excitement at the knowledge of you and Hoseok making love so painfully obvious.

Namjoon won’t deny the slight twinge of jealousy in his chest but feeling jealous of each other is as pointless as urging a flower to grow faster just because another one has already bloomed - everything is in due time; he just has to be patient. He does wonder if Hoseok’s true nature peeks out with you now, that dominance lurking under that bright, head-thrown-back laughter heard everyday around the house. What would you think of it? Or is Hoseok holding himself back, keeping things soft and vanilla for this first time with you? First time in this lifetime, of course.

As he sighs in defeat, retreating back into his room and closing the window tightly but almost begrudgingly, another thought comes to mind: How does he face you in the morning? Namjoon pauses on his way to the bathroom, blinking as he thinks, mouth downturned. What if he can’t hide the fact that he heard you? Fuck!

He stomps his way to the bathroom to splash cold water into his face, determined to forget everything and go to sleep. But sleep isn’t a good friend tonight as he lays there in bed, an obvious tent in his pyjama bottoms now, chewing on the insides of his cheeks. The harder he tries to push filthy thoughts out of his head, the more his mind wanders down to times when he had had you by his side almost every night, squished up against him, someone else’s arms around your middle, a human sandwich of sorts.

The first time Namjoon had laid with you, he had mistakenly thought you as shy, needing him to take the lead, nudging you in the right direction. He’d tease you with little orders like, “Take of your top for me, my love” and “That’s my girl” or “You’re as radiant as the stars in the sky, my darling, so let me see you more”, words that you blushed at, hiding your happy smiles behind your hair as you kept your head down low, doing everything he told you like a good puppy.

But Namjoon had been too naive. The moment you flipped him over, one palm pushing against his chest for balance as you pushed up on the balls of your feet moving perfectly over his shaft, mounting him like a cat in heat, head thrown back, mouth agape, breathing in shallow breaths as he watched your breasts bounce almost mesmerised. Namjoon had been speechless, his usually intelligent mind rendered blank and dumb. Ah, he had thought to himself, I must have died and reached heaven.

The more Namjoon entertained those memories swirling in his head, the more uncomfortable his lower half gets. He goes back into bed, pulling the covers over himself as his left hand sneaks into his pants. He closes his eyes, conjuring the memories of you in bed forward, almost smelling your skin on his clean sheet. His morals can go to hell for tonight.

~~~

Hoseok’s breathing is even, soft slow breaths that keep my eyes on the way his chest moves up and down.

But he’s not sleeping, I can tell. He slowly turns his head over to me, eyelids fluttering open to look at me. Rustling alerts me to his hand moving over to touch mine under the blanket, intertwining our fingers together in between us, bringing them up to his mouth. He places a kiss on each one of my knuckles before resting our connected hands on his bare chest.

“Hi,” I whisper lamely.

“Hi,” he whispers back with an amused smile.

I turn slightly sideways, lips connecting with his shoulder, mouthing at it a little, making him smile wider. The sun is only just rising, the soft glow of the slowly waking world outside holds off behind a curtain closed shut. Soon, the birds will start their activity, Mrs Oliviera will be thumping around on the first floor to start the day and it will be time to wake up and break this sacred, quiet moment between Hoseok and I.

“I should go back to-”

“Stay.”

Hoseok regards me for a moment. “But the others will be awake soon.”

“And?”

“They’ll ask questions,” he answers, turning onto his side and leaning on one elbow, looking down on me.

I hum, feeling his finger caressing my side. “You don’t have to answer.”

“They’ll know,” he says.

“Then they don’t have to ask.”

Hoseok chuckles softly. He leans down and connects our lips, fingers digging into my flesh. He deepens the kiss, pushing me over on my back as he looms over me, his weight creaking the bed. He moves to my cheek, nosing down to my neck, lightly brushing his lips on the sensitive skin there. He starts to move downward, pecking kisses down to my chest. I can feel his tongue poking out, feel it-

“Mreooowww!”

We both jump apart, him more than me that he almost falls off the edge of the bed.

“Karma!” I exclaimed, staring in disbelief at the cat that had just jumped onto the bed. He gives me a disapproving look as he curls up in what was just minutes ago Hoseok’s spot, laying his head on the pillow as if reclaiming it.

I turn back to Hoseok and give him an apologetic shrug. He laughs lightly, slipping off the bed and kneeling by the side of it. “I think that’s my cue, love,” he says. He leans over and kisses my forehead. “Sleep some more.”

I watch him get dressed and leave the bedroom, gently closing the door behind him. I lay back on my pillow, staring at the ceiling. I turn to Karma, purring contentedly. He opens his eyes in slits to look at me before closing them again, almost smugly.

“You’re such a brat, you know that?”

He ignores me, as expected.

I roll my eyes and turn the other way.

***

“Karma!”

The quiet yelling doesn’t bother the cat as I watch him bound up the stairs towards the third floor. I let out a groan and climb over the makeshift barrier, tiptoeing up the stairs as quickly as I can to go after him before the housekeeper sends us both to think about our actions in a corner. The stupid cat is fast and I try to be as quiet as possible, trailing after him.

“Get back here,” I hiss, bending low with my arms outstretched as I approach him close enough for the tip of his twin tails to brush my fingers. He had stopped to sniff at a closed door but then changed his mind, darting away and escaping me. He hurries down the hallway and I slow my pace, eyes trailing upwards to that same old door in the ceiling. I don’t come up here often and for some reason, the sight of it triggers a nostalgic feeling of sorts.

I stop right underneath it, neck starting to ache a little from how long I’ve been staring at the Anam Cara etched on the wooden surface. That specific celtic knot represents eternal love but what most people tend to ignore is the fact that Anam Cara literally translates to ‘soul friend’. I wonder why my grandaunt was so fascinated by Gaelic culture. Do we have some Irish bloodline in us? Or Vikings, maybe?

The sound of scratching pulls my attention down towards Karma again who is now long and extended halfway across one wall, paws stretched to reveal the razor claws beneath sunk into the wallpaper.

“Nononononono,” I mutter, leaping forward to remove him from making more damage but Karma is a cat. He lithely jumps out of the way but it’s too late for me to pull the brakes, ramming my shoulder straight into the wall he was leaning against, but instead of bouncing off of it, I sink into it.

~~~

The thud isn’t what made Jin finally curious enough to go up the third floor; it’s the strange cat that casually slinks between his legs heading downstairs, but not before giving him a look that confirms it wasn’t him making the noise.

Jin isn’t the bravest man out there. The only good thing about having a pet, he thinks, is that he can blame it for any weird creaky, spooky noise he can’t explain that happens throughout this old house. But it’s the afternoon and the house doesn't look so haunted with the sun shining through every window so he decided to be adventurous. His plan was to peek around the corner and then run like hell downstairs again.

He cranes his neck as far out as he can, one foot on the edge of the stairs, ready to bolt. His eyes scan the hallway hurriedly and when he doesn’t see anything, his heart starts thudding faster. Jin hears a pop in his neck from whipping his head around too fast but then he hears your voice.

“Ow…”

He pauses, heart finally calming down. “Y/n?”

No reply. Did he imagine it? He takes a tentative step forward and then another, eyes rapidly scanning the area. But it’s a long hallway that stops at a window. Are you in one of the rooms? Did you fall? Did something fall onto you? Oh god, no.

Jin bursts through each door one by one without bothering to close the one before, his senses heightened to the point there’s a ringing in his ears. Each door he goes through he’s met with ceiling-high stacked old items he doesn’t focus on for too long, items he had long put behind him; some made him think more about you which sends him into more of a panic. By the fourth door, Jin is half-convinced he imagined your voice and had half a mind to just go back downstairs to find you.

He exits the door and for some reason, he looks up towards the trapdoor that he had been living above off just a few months ago. He’s too far to see it but his eyes zone in on the Anam Cara. He remembers the night that he had taken a knife to the wood, giggling with you as he carved the shape, carefully not to nick himself with the blade as his vision sort of blurred together from how much wine he had drunk.

“Yoongi is going to be so- hic- mad,” you had slurred. “He was going to- hic- use this panel for a cupboard- hic.”

“I’m making it prettier,” he replied with a grin. “He’ll love it.”

No, he didn’t. Yoongi had been annoyed but not angry enough to do anything more than just roll his eyes when he had caught the two of you in his workshed. He did, however, throw the tangerine he was holding at Jin’s head before confiscating the knife from Jin and shepherding you both to bed, mumbling about soulmate symbols and how the Anam Cara wasn’t actually one (Jin had justified that it was his expression of eternal love for you which earned him that free lecture from Yoongi). And that’s the origin story of the trapdoor in the ceiling.

“Help!”

Jin snaps out of his reverie. He follows the muffled sound of the voice and finds himself face to face with the revolving secret wall. If he hadn’t been ten feet away from it, he definitely would not have heard it. A sense of deja vu washes over him, only this time he’s not a floating ghost.

~~~

“Help!”

I called out a second time but judging from how compact my voice sounds in this space, I knew no one would be able to hear me. My chest starts to wind up tight, my throat constricting as panic rises up to a crescendo. I can feel pressure in my ears but my mouth is clamped shut, unable to make any more noise. It’s so, so dark.

I’ve been here before, I remember. A while back when I had first found this place. How could I have forgotten that? That’s the funny thing about your brain; it tends to push down all the bad stuff so you can function somewhat properly. A monster in the dark. There’s a monster in the dark. A ghost. With eyes so familiar it hurts.

These thoughts go around and around in my head, bouncing off the walls of my mind as I try my hardest to not start hyperventilating. My breaths are coming out in short bursts and my hands are fisted, pressed together against my stomach. When your whole existence is crushing inward against you, your senses become sharper than usual, albeit narrowed to your own self. That’s how I’m hyper aware of how cold my own fingers are and how loud the thud, thud, thud is of my heart against my ribcage.

~~~

Jin picks random spots on the wall to pound against with the side of his fists, alternating between the right and left side as he’s confident the axis is somewhere in the centre. Thud, thud, thud! And yet the wall resists.

You no longer make any sound from within and although Jin knows that you could have made your way downstairs, his panic button is still turned on. He remembers your panic-stricken face the first time you stumbled across the hidden space, the way you had gone completely out of his reach even when he had been screaming in your face to try to snap you out of it. That triggered the other memory, of him dragging your limp body out of the water. Jin shivers, both to shake the bad memory away as well as in anger because. The wall. Just. Won’t-

The wall finally swings open and Jin’s eyes are quick to lock in on you the same time yours find him. He doesn’t waste another moment.

~~~

Jin. Jin’s eyes.

A ghost with eyes so familiar it hurts.

Jin. Seokjin. My Seokjin.

He’s crushing me so hard the wind is knocked out of me. Ironically, I can breathe again, taking in huge gulps of air like a diver resurfacing.

Murky waters.

Jin is talking to me but I can’t quite hear him. He’s holding my face in between both hands, forcing me to look up at him, into those eyes. Those eyes that look so worried, like I had died. My chest feels tight and my throat is suddenly ticklish, like I got something stuck there. I cough and it stings, like when you accidentally swallowed water into the wrong pipe.

Murky water. Mud.

~~~

“Are you okay?!”

You’re looking at Jin but not really seeing him, he can tell. Your eyes look far away, almost lifeless and it scares him so much his hands are shaking as he holds your face. He wants to call out to the others but something keeps him focused on you, unable to pull away even for a second lest he might lose you. It doesn’t make sense but the fear in his heart is real.

“Talk to me, please.”

You take a deep breath but Jin’s not convinced that you’re fully there yet. You start coughing and his panic goes back up to ten. Did you choke on something? He tries to keep your body straight so he can look, make sure you’re okay but you’re doubling over, grasping at your chest, coughing like you’re suffocating.

“-water.”

Jin bends down. “Okay, let’s get you some water. We need to get out-”

“You pulled me out of the water.”

The coughing stops as abruptly as it started. You look up at him, chest still heaving. Jin is at a loss for words, staring at you as he tries to make sense of the sentence. I did, he thinks, once upon a time ago.

Flashbacks to that dreadful day play like an old film reel in Jin’s mind, each scene starker than the next. Standing there in the secret space built so many years ago, he’s convinced that water is dripping down his forehead; water from that pond miles behind the property. He can even smell it on him. He doesn’t notice it yet but his heart is in his throat, ready to be vomited out once he opens his mouth to respond to you. “Jin,” you say, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him close, “did I die?”

a/n: at this rate, it looks like I'm posting once a year to this fic and they're shorter than I like too T_T i'm doing my best! I'll try harder, I promise! T_T

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