#jimin supernatural au

[chimcess]

→ Chapter One: Blessed Under Moonlight 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: 13.7k+ 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: Cursing, panic attack, blood, self injuries, ritualistic scenes, pining, long haired jimin (this is a warning), mention of death, not much to say here A/N: Not me doing a complete overhaul of the series. Yes, it is a lot, and yes, there are a lot of changes happening, but I do think that they are good changes. This series has become more than I ever thought it would be and I wanted to make the changes I thought would line up with what I would have written back then with the knowledge that I have now- to the point that I have changed the name of the series itself. Don’t worry, nothing is changed too much. Thank you so much for reading, babes!

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The night was warm, the air thick and wet despite the gentle breeze that barely stirred the leaves around my home. Another howl echoed through the forest, sending a chill down my spine. Just a few more minutes, I thought. I felt the familiar itch at my ankle, scratched it quickly, and resumed my pacing. I had to make it in time. They promised they would wait. It was tradition, and traditions were sacred. But I knew their leader’s patience was thin. My steps quickened.

For a thousand years, my family had pledged allegiance to the Gods of the Moon. A desperate cry in the dead of night had turned into a curse. Each generation had to choose a sacrifice, a child who would replace the old. We were the Bridds, witches charged with guarding Lustra and its people. I was the chosen one, the only girl born since my mentor Aldara, and the youngest ever to wear the cold metal chain around my leg.

After Aldara's untimely death, I was thrust into the role of leading the blessing ritual in the wolves' village. It was a ceremonial occasion, marking the boys' transition into men. The pack was lost, and the Gods turned to me. I was thirteen, a child forced to take on this burden, blessing the wolves every year since. It was the only time I was allowed out of my cottage as a human.

Tonight was Kim Taehyung's eighteenth birthday, a significant age for the wolves, marking the day one could become a warrior. Yoongi, the kitchen witch deep in the forest, thought Taehyung would be like any other pack member. But I knew better. I had more contact with the wolves than any other witch. I was the only outsider permitted on pack land. I continued to pace. I could not be late.

Finally, I felt it. The thin, indestructible chain around my ankle began to tighten gently, glowing with an iridescent light. Pleasure washed over me, a cool sensation caressing my skin. The chain broke, and I stepped out. It would stay open until dawn. I grabbed my lantern, my pack of magical items, and slipped on my shoes. I whispered a spell to stop my cottage's magic, needing all my stamina for the night. Teleportation was too draining; I opted for meteor powder instead.

As I moved through the trees, the birds chattered. My friend Patto, a yellow-crowned night heron, perched on the bird bath the pack had gifted me. I knew I couldn't ignore him. Briefly, I stopped to exchange words.

“Human tonight?” he asked, hopping closer.

“It’s a man’s coming-of-age ceremony,” I explained, wrapping my shawl tighter.

“I won’t keep you then, Y/N,” Patto said, nuzzling my cheek before taking flight.

I pulled out my bag of meteor powder, a lavender-colored substance for quick travel. Drawing a detailed picture of the ritual site, I threw the powder onto the sheet. The page ignited in a bright purple flame. I spoke the destination's name clearly and hopped onto the flame.

When I opened my eyes, I was in the ritual cave. I thanked the Gods for allowing my magic to work and began setting up. The men and women required different candles and items. Betas were straightforward, omegas needed finely ground pearls mixed with paints, and alphas required more preparation. Jungkook, the only blessed child in a hundred years, needed sage during his ceremony.

In the Foxglove pack, there were three alphas. Jung Hoseok, who handled trading and pack affairs, Kim Namjoon, the voice of the people, and Park Jimin, the most mysterious of the three. As always, thinking of Jimin left a sour taste in my mouth.

After arranging my altar, I pricked my finger and drew a circle with my blood. The wolf would stand in the middle, trapped by salt and peonies. Unlike Aldara, who chained them, I found this method less cruel. Satisfied, I painted myself, adhering to the pack's customs. My colors were blue, red, and black, representing the raven.

I heard the wolves approaching, their scent filling the cave. My prey instincts urged me to run, but I stood my ground. I was a witch. Nothing scared me, not even predators. When it was silent, I knew it was time.

“Bless this child, Y/N,” came Ahn's voice, the pack’s Chief Elder.

Carefully, I sealed the circle and lit the candles, the orange glow illuminating the cave. Taehyung stood naked, as tradition required, his eyes filled with anticipation. I began the chant, feeling the tension in the room. They hoped for a fourth alpha, a status symbol in the wolf world.

Then, it hit me. The husky, woodsy scent of an alpha, stronger than any before. The pack's excitement was palpable. I continued the incantations, bracing for the struggle. Taehyung was becoming an alpha, and the pack's future hung in the balance.

Though I had done this three times already it never got easier. However, Jungkook had been the last wolf I guided through the change, and the sickeningly sweet scent that rolled off his young body made Taehyung’s feel like a gentle breeze. I could hear small exclamations of joy happening around us. The real party would be when this was over. I moved from one incantation into another seamlessly and braced myself for the fight to come.

I grabbed the bowl of white paint I had prepared and the bone knife, feeling the weight of the night pressing in on me. Silver was strictly forbidden in the village, no exceptions. As I continued to sing the incantation, I sliced the palm of my hand, letting my blood drip into the bowl. I walked over to Taehyung, bracing myself, and snatched his hand. This was why the circle was necessary; it held him in place, preventing him from breaking free and attacking me. I made a quick cut on his hand and placed the bowl under the wound. Taehyung howled in anger, too far gone to feel the pain. I backed away before he could shift, watching as the large, sandy wolf snapped and snarled at me.

I retrieved a new paintbrush and approached Taehyung again. Using magic, I forced him to shift back into a man and positioned him on all fours. My concentration didn't waver. I drew the pack’s symbol on his back: two large, parallel trapezoids. Then I traced the Aquila constellation on the back of his neck. My hands heated up as I chanted, calling for the Gods to bless the wolf through me. Taehyung screamed as the symbols branded into his skin, forever marking his transition into manhood. The scars turned from red to white within seconds, shining in the candlelight. The ceremony neared its end. I removed my hands and blew out the yellow candles, then lit the blue ones. 

Kneeling before the altar, I raised my arms and chanted, feeling a burning sensation in my back. My voice remained steady even as two large, metallic black wings tore through my flesh, the pain nearly unbearable. Blood pooled around my calves, but I couldn't stop singing.

The wings sprouted fully, and I reached with trembling hands to pluck a single black feather, placing it on the altar. I cupped the feather, continuing the chant. It lifted from the altar and began to spin. I moved my hands, lifting my arms straight up. The feather followed, glowing like my chain had earlier. My head felt like it was splitting in half as a blue jewel grew from my forehead and fell. I caught it before it hit the ground and placed it on the altar next to the feather. As I said the final words of the incantation, the jewel vanished. My wings retracted into my back, and the feather floated down. The cave fell silent.

Seconds later, cheers erupted around me. Exhausted, I smiled and leaned on a nearby rock. Despite my fatigue, I had one more task before I could leave. Using the rocks for support, I stood and grabbed the feather. It was tradition for the blessed wolf to keep the feather. Before the wolves came to Lustra during the Century War, they sacrificed birds for this occasion. Now, the Bridd took on the sacrificial aspects of the rituals, making such sacrifices unnecessary.

I approached the circle where Taehyung lay in his wolf form, horse-sized and yellow-furred. He looked smug, glancing at his younger siblings. Ignoring the pain in my back and the blood from my wounds, I forced myself to stand tall.

“Kim Taehyung,” I said, presenting the feather, “this represents your newfound freedom. I wish you the best in the future.”

Kneeling, I used magic to blow the salt away and placed the feather in front of me. Taehyung hesitated but finally took the feather in his teeth. I smiled at him, waving my hand to shift him back and clothe him in the robes Sol had laid out. The elders would award him his alpha sash at the feast. Taehyung smiled at me, his boxy grin innocent and sincere.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Thank the Gods, not me,” I replied, nodding. “Congratulations, Alpha Taehyung.”

Standing, I bowed to the new alpha before using magic to dismantle the altar and tools. Wolves, like witches, were unembarrassed by nakedness, so I felt no discomfort undressing. The bloody clothes stuck to me, and I was grateful to be out of them. Unlike wolves, I got cold easily and rarely left my cottage in winter except for ceremonies. 

Calling out to Luna Sol for permission, I packed my candles and prepared more meteor powder and another drawing, this time of my home. The few remaining wolves included the other three alphas. I ignored them, knowing it was best to stay out of wolf affairs. Even as a trusted ally, I was still an outsider.

“Excuse me, Bridd?” Hoseok’s voice stopped me. 

I turned, meeting the gazes of the alphas. Fighting the urge to glance at Jimin, I maintained eye contact with Hoseok, who was smiling.

“Alpha Hoseok,” I greeted, bowing. “Can I help you with something?”

“Namjoon and Jimin have lists of supplies they require,” he said.

I bowed to Namjoon, who had a calming warmth despite his intimidating mono-lid, and then to Jimin. His feline, sharp eyes were pitch black in the cave's darkness, his silver hair glowing. He was the palest member of the village, his silver wolf matching his hair. I forced my eyes away.

“Alpha Jimin.”

Hoseok handed me the lists. 

“Do you need new paper and ink? Your mate is still visiting family,” I said, glancing at the lists.

“You know everything,” Hoseok joked. “Yes, I’ll need more. Hyuna’s not back for three days. I’ve accounted for that.”

I nodded, placing the papers in my sack.

“I’ll need four days to prepare everything. I’ll be useless tomorrow and maybe the day after.”

“Of course, Bridd. In that case, disregard the extra paper and ink.”

Namjoon added, “Our pack is forever indebted to you. Please rest.”

“Thank you, alpha. I will.”

After bowing and saying my farewells, I returned to my drawing and powder. Saying I wanted to go to my cottage, I threw the powder and stepped into the flames. I ended up across the clearing from my cottage. Groaning, I threw the powder into my bag and cast a small spell to reach my front door. 

I still had two hours of freedom, and I intended to use them.

Inside, I slipped off my shoes and stowed my ceremonial gear on the small shelf by the door. Realizing I'd left my lantern in the cave, I quickly penned a letter to the pack, asking Hoseok to return it upon his next visit. I called out to Shiloh, my barn owl familiar who lived in the tree by the kitchen window. She delivered letters in exchange for treats or tips on where to find mice burrows. A bowl of crickets usually sufficed. I put the kettle on before changing into something more comfortable and washing off. This rare time without the need for magic was a luxury I savored.

As I tugged my shirt down, the kettle whistled. I returned to the kitchen, removed it from the flame, and fetched a cup from the cupboard. It wasn’t often I had this much time after a ceremony. Taehyung’s wolf hadn’t resisted, aside from the usual discomfort. Unlike the other alphas, whose ceremonies stretched until dusk, this had been relatively quick. The deep wounds on my back were just beginning to scab over. I’d never seen the scars, but I knew they’d turn purple before becoming a strange, almost-silver color. My body had learned to endure the abuse.

Shifters, blessed by the Gods, were seen by many as slaves, but I knew our abilities were gifts. The wolves were cursed to protect the land, their Gods ensuring their village remained plentiful and its people blessed with extended lifespans. Similarly, the role of the Bridd was a sacred gift, hand-picked by the Gods to serve for all days. In return, we received our magic and other blessings. The cottage would outlast me, serving future generations. I would become a bird, a spirit of the forest. This was my purpose.

I placed dandelions and a large tea bag into my cup, then went outside to enjoy the night air. I was never allowed outside during the day, confined to my home by the chain. I remembered frolicking in the clearing as a child, playing with the rabbits. Those were the years I was still Y/N, and the forest was my haven. Auntie had allowed me more freedom than previous Bridds, knowing my love for magic was strong. She’d told me I was special, that my connection would serve me well. The Gods would bless me for my love. But now, she was gone, and I was thrust into a world I was barely prepared for. The Gods had taken her from me, and one day they would take me from my student. It seemed too unfair to be a blessing, but I held out hope. Bitterness wouldn’t serve me well, even if it was all I felt.

The forest came alive at night, and I immersed myself in its glory. The sounds of crickets chirping relaxed me, and I took a deep breath. It felt nice to be free of blood and paint. Hoseok and the Luna were the only ones who had seen me without ceremonial gear. No one else visited, and my inability to wander the forest outside of bird form made it impossible for others to see me as a woman. This was the life of the Bridd—a quiet one filled with solitude and the honor of being a forest guardian. A lonely honor for only the best. I took a gulp of tea and sighed at its warmth. I loved it as much as I hated it.

A rustle in the bushes caught my attention. Two large white dots glowed in the darkness. I smiled, placing my cup down. It was a wolf, probably a young pup curious about me. Hoseok often spoke of how the children described me in town. I stood and reached out my hand.

The wolf hesitated before stepping into the light. Its color was hard to discern in the dark, but it was light-colored. In its mouth was my lantern. I gasped, moving toward the large animal. This was no pup; it was too large. I didn’t see the wolves often enough to tell them apart. They all smelled the same after the change. Its fur glowed in the moonlight.

“Thank you,” I said, taking the lantern.

The wolf touched its nose to my hand, a sign of understanding. I patted its nose gently, laughing when it nuzzled further. It might have been a teen like Jungkook, but the white fur set it apart from the prince. Jungkook was midnight black and less fluffy.

“I’m surprised they let you leave during such a joyous occasion.”

The wolf looked at the grass, and I laughed in disbelief.

“You snuck away, didn’t you? Bad wolf. What would your alphas think?”

The wolf made a chirping sound, laughing. Shocked, I stared at it. The wolf laughed harder, flopped onto the ground, and rolled onto its back.

“Alpha Jimin would be very displeased with you, pup,” I mocked, bending to rub its chest.

The wolf hummed in satisfaction.

“That’s not fair,” I mumbled. “He’s better to be around than Ahn.”

The wolf stared at me, and I snapped out of my trance. Wanting to forget my outburst, I grinned and scratched the wolf’s chest. It wiggled happily, its large tongue flapping out. When I scratched its ribs, its leg kicked.

“Aren’t you the sweetest thing?” I laughed.

Shiloh called from the tree beside my window. The sun would rise soon, and I should rest. I sighed, looking at the wolf. It seemed upset that I'd stopped.

“I have to go inside now,” I said.

The wolf whimpered, nuzzling its head into my lap.

“It’s my duty, little wolf.”

It finally moved, understanding duty. The pack thrived on duty and devotion to the Gods. I patted the wolf and stood. It followed me to the door, towering over me. I picked up my cup and used magic to open the door. The lantern went on its hook, and my cup floated to the sink, hopping in the air.

“It’s time to go, friend,” I said, hands on my hips.

The wolf nuzzled its head into my chest. I rubbed its neck and scratched behind its ear. Sadness filled me at the thought of it leaving. I laughed at my melodramatics. This wolf was a stranger, not my friend. I shouldn’t grow fond of it or cry about it leaving. I wasn’t that lonely.

“Go on,” I pushed its head lightly. “Before the pack realizes you’re gone. Alpha Jimin begins his rounds soon.”

The wolf nosed my hand once more before bounding off into the night, its white fur glowing under the moonlight. As I closed the door, the chain on the floor slithered toward me like a living thing. I walked toward it, and it wrapped itself around my ankle once more, a chilling sensation spreading through my body. I quickly performed my altar ritual before heading to my room. Sleep came easy, filled with dreams of brown eyes and the smell of smoke drifting through the air.

When I awoke, my shop was a cluttered mess of bottles, sacks, and labels. Hoseok’s request for supplies had never been this extensive. The volume of healing supplies and medicines I needed to prepare was overwhelming. I quickly labeled everything, feeling my sanity slipping with each passing minute. The monotonous process of making enough for all 200 wolves was draining. Slicing my finger, I hissed in pain and put the knife down. It was time for a break. I was running low on supplies anyway, so I sent Shiloh to Yoongi’s home to scrounge for extras.

Namjoon’s request for a new shipment of medicines had me restocking their entire inventory. Jimin’s order, though, was the real challenge: a convoluted and, frankly, unnecessary potion. I wrote to Enver, a young witch in the northern swamps, for the toads I needed. With Shiloh out, I relied on Delinah, a doe who helped me in exchange for fruits and vegetables.

Jimin’s order included a healing potion that wolves could take without shifting, portable heat suppressants, and a camouflaging potion. The healing potion was one of the most difficult recipes I’d ever made. With 15 wolves in Jimin’s party, I needed a surplus. The camouflage potion was even more challenging. For the first time in years, I had to reference Aldara’s grimoire.

Shiloh sang, signaling her return, and I rushed to her window to take the sack of supplies from Yoongi. He included a letter explaining the missing items—the sea witch coven had taken a lot for their rituals. I needed Shiloh to fetch the rest from Seokjin, a Solar witch.

“Alright, Lolo,” I said, running my hand through my hair. “Let me get you a new basket.”

“What now?” she deadpanned.

“You need to make a trip to Seokjin’s for the remaining supplies on the list.”

“The Solar witch?”

“Yes, Shiloh. What other Seokjin do we know?”

I began preparing another sack with a new list. Delinah was due back any minute with the toads, so I could begin the fifteenth, and hopefully last, trial of the camouflage potion.

“Why must you send me there?” she whined, flapping her wings in agitation.

“Because he always has a surplus of herbs and flowers, and I need them to complete my order for the pack,” I replied, securing the pouch around her neck.

“You know I enjoy Jin’s humor at the best of times,” Shiloh said, her voice already taking on a whine. She despised Jin’s familiar, a dog called Mannix, and I was throwing her into the deep end by sending her there. Unfortunately, I had no other choice.

“Shiloh,” I chuckled, putting the letter inside the bag. “Seokjin is one of the most brilliant witches in the land, and I know Mannix isn’t that horrible. It’ll be quick, and tonight I’ll be more inclined to go hunting with you.”

She agreed begrudgingly before flying away. I went back to the kitchen and started up the flame to my cauldron again. Using magic, I charmed all the completed potions to sort themselves and get into their bags before beginning to brew the camouflaging potion. The toads would be the last to go in this time. Delinah arrived, placing the jar of toads on my countertop.

“Stir this, please,” I asked.

The doe nodded, walking over to stir the potion with a wooden spoon held in her teeth. I put on gardening gloves, preparing myself. The potion required three whole toads, and despite trying alternatives, nothing worked as well. I placed the frogs to sleep with a spell and tossed them into the cauldron. Delinah and I switched places, and I saw the potion turn grass green. I began to chant, watching as it turned clear like water. I cheered, hugging the deer beside me. She nuzzled into my neck and gave me a lick.

“Good job, Y/N,” she said.

“Thank you, Dee,” I replied, retrieving a large sack filled with cabbage heads. “I’ll have apples next time.”

Delinah happily took the sack and left. I bottled the potion, confident it was correct this time. Shiloh hated testing potions for me, so I wanted to avoid another crisis. I turned to the packaged boxes of medications, curling the ribbons with my favorite bone knife. Like many forest witches, I collected bones and had a habit of foraging during my nights. Aldara always teased me about my “crow brain” and love for shiny things. My collection of gems and bottle caps was testament to that. Crafting was another love, and I enjoyed making my packages look neat and professional.

Aldara never stopped me from decorating boxes and collecting bones, even if she didn’t care for it. I spent hours making packaging boxes and pretty bows, but now I used magic to do the work for me. I matched the potions within, included a card explaining their use, and tossed in a magical card that would take anyone to my shop in case of emergency, except during my unavailable hours when it would send them to Yoongi’s instead. The stamper would stamp the box with a large bird, a brush would paint the Aquila constellation along both sides, and a ribbon would wrap itself around it. However, for Jimin’s packages, I opted out of decorations, keeping only the constellation.

As I placed the finishing touches on the orders, I heard the bell above my door ring and large, booming footsteps. Hoseok had arrived, and he wasn’t alone. I abandoned my ribbons, dusted off my apron, and went to greet him.

“Good afternoon, Hoseok,” I said, not paying much attention as I charmed the camouflage potion to begin packing. “My apologies for the orders not being ready. The things Alpha Jimin requested are time-consuming and challenging to make. Once my familiar returns with some herbs, it’ll be ready.”

I was a whirlwind in my cottage, curling ribbons one moment, writing cards the next. Hoseok was used to my informal address in my home, and I was sure whomever he brought along was informed of my rudeness. I was too busy to care if some wolf thought I was a poor host.

“I apologize for the strain I have caused you,” a sweet, melodic voice spoke up.

My body froze, as did everything else in the room, before it started up again. I turned to the two men and bowed deeply, my heart racing.

“I am so, deeply sorry for disrespecting you, Alpha,” my voice shook. “I had not realized who had come in.”

Hoseok laughed, clapping his hands together. He always enjoyed seeing me flustered and would have a field day talking to Namjoon about this later. It seemed like Jimin was the only pack alpha who paid me little mind. I forced myself to look up at the man.

Dressed casually, more casually than I’d ever seen, his silver hair braided down his back, Jimin’s small frame still towered over me. That menacing aura surrounding him was intact. Even in daylight, Park Jimin was untouchable. And yet, a familiar longing found its way into my heart, and I knew I needed to distract myself.

“How much longer will your owl be, Bridd?” Hoseok asked, unbothered.

“I’m not sure,” I admitted.

“Aren’t you lot meant to be infallible?” the alpha joked.

All Bridd were blessed with gifts. The first of us, the spirit, was responsible for selecting the ability, and those spirits became our companions as Shiloh had become mine. The Gods chose the gift that best served the forest. Aldara could only speak with owls and had a bit of foresight. The only other witch I knew with the same affinity was Enver, but his was more complex and accurate. I had my own limitations, unable to perform high-ranking spells due to the energy drain. My gift was both a blessing and a curse.

“That would be my aunt,” I joked back, unaware of the glare Jimin sent Hoseok’s way.

While Aldara’s gifts brimmed with power and the ability to foresee when to wield it, mine were rooted in the forest and its spirits. I could talk to any animal, regardless of my form. Yet, the most profound gift from Lilith was the power of mediumship. Auntie always said it was an intense gift, given only to those deemed worthy by the Gods. But I never fully believed that. As a child, weak and unable to grasp the gift's magnitude, spirits would possess me. I'd black out for hours and wake up somewhere random in the forest. They were trying to communicate, but I was oblivious. Though more attuned now, I still occasionally lost control.

Curling ribbons and assisting my charmed furniture with packaging, I half-listened to Hoseok rambling about Sol’s birthday. He wasn't interested, being mated for years, but was eager to see which of the three alphas Sol would choose. I made small talk, reminding him that the Gods made that choice. The Goddess of the Moon chose mates within the wolf packs. I found the idea of soulmates endearing. What would it feel like to be loved like that?

Every now and then, I stole glances at Jimin. He kept quiet, his eyes taking in my space with curiosity. I tried to recall if he'd been here before. Briefly, I remembered him helping me to bed after my first blessing ceremony with Namjoon. I was so battered afterward that I could no longer walk. Jimin, still a boy then, had assisted me with Hoseok, who was due for his own ceremony the following month.

“I am looking forward to the Luna's blessing ceremony,” I said, keeping the small talk lighthearted.

“I’m sure it will be an interesting experience,” Hoseok commented, touching every box of herbs he found. “How different is it from ours?”

The cottage hadn’t always been this cluttered. Auntie kept it neat and organized. She had just enough for the both of us, making it cozy in winter when we’d lay by the fire. Now, alone, I found it impossible to maintain the same structure. Where we used to lay was now a large table with herbs, flowers, crystals, and jars of specimens for potions. Beside it, a bookshelf filled with spell books. The rest of the Bridd grimoires were in the cellar. My little kitchen and potion-mixing station were overrun by bottles, boxes, and magical decorations. My bone collection sat in a display case by the front door, and my knives hung over the fireplace mantle.

“I’m sure Bridd does not want to answer that,” Jimin scolded Hoseok.

I forced myself to keep moving, though my body burned at the implication. Park Jimin defending me? It was almost too much to handle. I had a small flame for the alpha, but I knew better than to believe anything could happen between us. It would be too complicated, and we hardly knew one another. Still, it didn’t stop my skin from heating under his gaze.

“It’s alright,” I whispered. “It’s very different, but I’m not completely sure how. I still have a month to figure it out.”

“I wonder who the alpha will be,” Hoseok mused, grimacing at the bookshelf of grimoires before digging through the boxes again.

“Who knows,” Jimin answered before I could.

Shiloh returned then, angrily shouting about the “stupid dog” and his “even dumber owner.” I rushed to tend to my familiar. She looked disheveled, her normally cream-colored face caked in dirt. I could imagine her run-in with Mannix had gone as badly as she thought.

Fighting back a laugh, I took the basket from the owl before taking her into my arms.

“Whatever happened?”

As usual, Shiloh dramatically squawked and screeched about how much she disliked going to Jin’s house. She was on fire with anger and wanted to rip out the eyes of the “stupid, barbaric mutt.” I suspected she was trying to get more than a mouse hunting trip out of this. Knowing Shiloh, she’d complain until I agreed to visit Morla with her. For a spirit guide, Shiloh was surprisingly catty.

“Seokjin. Oh, that monster!” She placed a wing across her forehead. “He let his godforsaken, loudmouth, drooling mutt out on me!”

“Mannix,” I smirked, placing a hand over my heart. “Is a puppy. He’s not much bigger than you.”

She screeched in protest. “That dog is a giant, Y/N! At least fifty pounds and growing!”

“Oh, Shiloh, I’m so sorry,” I chuckled.

Mannix was just a baby the last time I saw him. Jin had gotten him from the market in Clarcton and called him a St. Bernard. They weren’t native to Lustra, so I knew little about the breed. Apparently, they grew much bigger than I thought. I’d have to write Jin and let him know his familiar was too big and rowdy to play well with mine.

“It was so embarrassing,” Shiloh grumbled, finally snapping out of her dramatic performance.

“And then the bees! I had to ask them for help. Me! Shiloh, the Bridd’s one and only familiar, asking those mongrels for help. Never send me back there again, Y/N. I beg of you!”

I rolled my eyes, walked her to our room, and helped her squeeze into her nesting box. While she usually slept in her large, cone-shaped nest outside, I let her sleep in my room when she stayed awake during the day to help me. I had built it as a child, gathering the wood while Aldara helped with the cutting, screwing, and other dangerous tasks. It was a nice size, 4x4, solid wood with a hole large enough for her to squeeze through. The inside was filled with dirt and sticks, just as she liked, along with a stuffed animal I’d given her when we became connected. The owl sighed and rushed to the dark side of the nest.

Chuckling, I went back to the kitchen and called out to Delinah from the window. She was still eating the cabbage I’d given her. The fawn looked at me.

“Whenever you’re finished, would you mind asking Nixie, one of the sea witches, if she could spare a vole or two? Shiloh is being dramatic again.”

Delinah laughed. Animals did it too, though not many were easy to detect. I had known the deer since she was a small fawn, so I knew her laughter well. Behind me, I heard Hoseok’s loud footsteps and remembered who I had in my house.

“Of course,” she replied.

“Great!”

I quickly spun back around and began to fix my hair. I hadn’t grown it back yet, but the nervous tick was still in full force. Hoseok was still looking around, unbothered, while Jimin remained rooted in the same spot. I worried I had annoyed him with our antics. While Hoseok was fond of the shenanigans in my home, Jimin was not. I’d always heard he was stern and serious with little patience for nonsense, but his stoic expression gave nothing away. I began to stack boxes and watch as they found their way into bags.

“Sorry,” I awkwardly laughed. “My familiar is a bit of a drama queen.”

“How is Shiloh?” Hoseok wondered, finally breaking away from the hundreds of items around him.

“Spunky,” I replied with a small smile.

I returned to the counter and started pulling out the items Seokjin had spared me. Just as I thought, he included everything I’d asked for and more, along with a note. With the boxes of medicine packed and ready to go, I decided to read the letter before diving back into work.

Y/N,  

How splendid of “you” to drop by. I know Shiloh came in your absence, but I’ll expect you tonight. I’ll brew your favorite tea. Here are the ingredients you requested:  

- 2 sunflower stems  

- 12 sunflower seeds  

- 3 baby’s breath bundles  

- A small comb of honey  

- 10 sprigs of vervain 

I’ve added some extras for the gardening tools you made me this year. I know you use a lot of mint and sage, so expect plenty. I’ve also started growing lavender to balance out the sea coven’s needs for Yoongi.  

Tea:  

- 2-3 cups honeysuckle flowers (whole)  

- 2 cups water  

- Wild honey to taste  

Much love,  

Seokjin  

I quickly put my cauldron on the flame and began to write back.

Jin,  

Thank you for the supplies. The mint is lovely, and I’m glad to hear about the lavender. Remember, full sun and well-drained soil are best. Yoongi would be a better source for tips. The tools were a gift for being such a wonderful person and friend. Pass my thanks to Mannix. Shiloh came home with her dramatics again. Haven’t I told you to stop picking on her?  

Tea sounds lovely, but I prefer the honeysuckle crushed. No honey—you know my diet.  

May the Gods bring you joy,  

Y/N  

“As dramatic as always,” I said, folding the paper and stamping it with a wax seal. “Auferetur,” I commanded, and the paper incinerated.

“Sometimes I forget she’s not a person,” Hoseok joked, coming to the counter to watch me work.

The alpha enjoyed seeing the process of potion-making, though he didn’t pay much attention to the details. I used to explain what I was doing until I realized he just thought the cauldron was cool. I used to be the same as a child, but things change quickly in this life.

“Well, she’s technically a spirit, but I understand what you mean,” I said, throwing in the vervain sprigs.

Healing potions were the strangest to make. As soon as they were done, they had to be taken off the heat and placed into jars. Then, suspicious stones were added to preserve them. Without the opal, the potions only lasted two days before losing potency. Next was the baby’s breath.

“Is everything in your world a spirit?” Hoseok cocked an eyebrow.

“Hoseok,” Jimin warned.

He did it again. Of course, I didn’t need Jimin to save me from Hoseok. They were both at my mercy here, and it was impossible to imagine Hoseok ever harming me. He reminded me of Mannix more than any wolf, and his heart-shaped smile only added to his puppy-like nature. Still, I was touched by the gesture. I was reminded of how poorly I’d spoken of him last night and felt ashamed. Stealing another look, I appreciated how his waist tapered to a pair of long, straight legs.

"Just about," I murmured, using my magic to get the bottles to scoop up the potion themselves, leaving them hovering above the kitchen island, ready for action.

"Isn't it hard to do all of that at once?"

"Hoseok," I slipped, my irritation showing, "I'm the Bridd. Do you truly believe that little of me?"

He laughed, a sound that somehow felt like an embrace, "Well, no. I've just never seen any other witch do it before."

"Do you see other witches often?" I teased, a smile playing on my lips.

Jung Hoseok, a master charmer and one of the politest gentlemen in Lustra, grinned back at me. His mate, a woman I scarcely knew, was lucky to have him. It was rare for an alpha to mate with anyone other than an omega, but they had grown up together and fallen in love despite her beta status. Their wolves had always gravitated toward each other, but the true depth of their bond only became apparent after they both went through the change. She would have come to help Hoseok today, but she was taking care of her ill mother back in her hometown of Viridi Gramine.

"Only the grumpy man who lives near the pixie coves." I snorted.

"Yoongi?" I confirmed, amused. "The kitchen witch?"

Min Yoongi was another close friend of mine. While not as personable as Seokjin or the sea witch coven, he was reliable and ready to help at a moment's notice. Of course, he complained more than anyone else I knew and loathed uninvited guests, but I knew it was because he hadn't had proper time to make them a meal. He became reserved so he wouldn't let on how much he enjoyed company since it was so rare on his edge of the forest. It made me happy to know that Hoseok’s visits weren't limited to me and that the kitchen witch fed off his great energy.

“He’s a kitchen witch? Could’ve fooled me.”

“He’s unorthodox, that’s for sure.” The potion was finally complete, and I quickly began lifting portions and filling the molds. “However, he is not a very sought-after host, so he can be clueless about manners or formalities. I’m afraid you’ll have to pardon him on my behalf.”

The entire house smelled of vervain, and I knew I would never hear the end of it. Shiloh was very particular, but I had grown used to her babbling. She hardly ever listened to any of my warnings until I reminded her that her reincarnation as a mortal relied on her being a good familiar. And yet, she always found a way to make my life harder. Still, I couldn't deny that the owl was my best friend. Or that I would be devastated if she didn’t get her wish granted. I wanted more than anything for her to become the beautiful red-headed woman she had always dreamed of, even if she liked to fly in like a bat out of hell and moan about bees attempting to make friends with her.

“What makes him a kitchen witch?” Hoseok always asked questions he never cared to learn the answer to. Anything to fill the silence.

It was a common question for non-magical people. While I would never consider a pack member a mortal, I knew better than to lump them in with us. Guardians, but all of their mysticism came from their shifting abilities, and since most wolves thought they were untouchable, they never did learn about magic regarding others. Witches, however, were expected to know everything there was to know about it. At least, that was my job, and as someone who did both, it was a tiring existence regardless.

“Well, all witches have the same base knowledge, but we can also have specialties,” I explained.

“And his is cooking?” Hoseok’s eyebrows knitted together.

I shook my head. “Something like that. It’s how he goes about cooking. There’s a fine art to kitchen witchery,” I tried to explain.

I was never considered a kitchen witch and knew only what I did because of our friendship. Growing up together, Yoongi, Seokjin, and Wendy, a girl from the sea coven, had been as thick as thieves. Our families were close, and our small group of four had gotten into enough trouble to last multiple lifetimes. Still, I knew the bare bones of each of their chosen magic. I was a forest witch like the other Bridd, but it had never bothered me. Generational magic was a common occurrence within covens.

Hoseok hummed in acknowledgment. Again, I looked at Jimin but couldn't pick anything out of his cool expression. He was no longer looking around the cottage and instead took to looking out of the large, rectangular window that took up the entire left side of the living room wall. He looked so ethereal in the sunlight. Agitated with myself, I again went back to pretending he wasn't here. I couldn't remember when these feelings began, but it had to have been years ago at this point. I could recall the warmth surrounding me during his presentation ceremony and how his wolf went frantic to get close to me. Of course, that was normal, and I paid it no mind, but I still allowed myself to wonder. My infatuation had only grown since then, a fact he had to be aware of, and I was grateful he never commented on it. Even the custos of Bangtan was a gentleman. Another wave of shame overcame me.

“What kind of witch are you?”

“I’m a forest witch,” I replied curtly, making sure to keep my eyes away from Jimin.

Hoseok didn't ask about my magic, but I assumed he thought it was too self-explanatory. Once all the bottles were filled and on the counter, I began to quickly place the stones in the center of the liquid. Soon it would become a jelly-like consistency that tasted like strawberries. It would be a week before the stones were dissolved, and they wouldn't be usable within that time frame. I moved swiftly, aware that they had been here far longer than they should have been. Hoseok never minded the longer visits, but I would feel guilty if I held Jimin up any longer than I already had.

“Are they ready to be used?”

My concentration slipped momentarily, causing the bottles to drop slightly. Quickly regaining control, I lifted them back up and continued putting the stones into the bottles. I hadn't expected Jimin to speak, and his silky voice threw me off. He was so soft-spoken, and the tone of his voice was sweet and smooth that it was difficult to imagine him as the war leader. His cherub face only made it more difficult. Jimin was too beautiful to fight.

“No,” I replied with great effort to keep my voice even. “They will need a week to be fully effective. Don’t open them until the stones are dissolved, or they’ll spoil and be useless.”

“Is everything else ready now?” Hoseok chimed in.

While I was pleasantly surprised he had been listening, I didn't let it show. He would most likely close his ears the second he grew bored. Boredom and silence were Hoseok’s worst enemies, and his mind drifted even more when Hyuna wasn't around. She was one of the few people that could make him hang on their every word. The only others I had seen the same restraint with were the other alphas and his older sister.

“Yes.”

Just as I had thought, Hoseok was back to touching things and wondering out loud. I never minded. He was unusually quiet today, and I guessed that Jimin had something to do with that. He always said the younger man was far too serious and concerned about unimportant things. However, I found that hard to believe. If he were so strict, he would have demanded I move quickly and would at the very least look annoyed with how slow I was moving. Instead, Jimin seemed comfortable waiting however long I needed. Still, I didn't want to push my luck.

“How do you even make these?”

The stones were all in the bottles, and I charmed the corks to cork themselves. That was the worst part of potion making, and I refused to make myself do that. Aldara had done it all by hand. Looking at what Hoseok was talking about, I smiled brightly.

“Bones, sandpaper, and a lot of patience.”

My knife collection was my most prized possession, only beat out by the cellar. All of them were made with bones I found while foraging and various types of leaves to make the handles. None of them were the beautiful steel that the people of Northorn used, but I adored them nonetheless. My favorite, by far, was the small one on the very far right. It was the first knife I ever made, and while the unsightliness of the bunch, it held a special place in my heart.

It had been made after a deer I was fond of passed on. His name had been Davian, and he was an older buck filled with fun facts and information. I was heartbroken when he stopped showing up to our playdates, and Aldara agreed to look for him after a few weeks. We ended up finding his bones, and Aldara comforted me with the idea of keeping a piece of him the way she had with a bird friend she had as a child. I took his scapula, and we came up with the idea of a knife. He quickly became my new favorite hobby. I had an entire wall in the cellar dedicated to my knives and hoped my future student would get great use out of them in the future.

“They’re beautiful,” Jimin complimented in his soft, angel-like voice.

The enchanted items made quick work of the boxing, and I took my time writing the note card. Since these suppressants worked differently than the liquid version, I needed to be highly detailed in my instructions. Unlike normal alphas, Jimin couldn’t drink his medicine since his wolf had a habit of rejecting it.

“You can take them now if you’d like.” I turned my attention back to the two alphas once the note was secured in the final box.

The air shifted slightly as Jimin joined me at the island. He was taller than me by several inches and had a sturdier frame. Unlike Hoseok, Jimin’s scent was faint. Almost nonexistent, really. It was normal for higher-ranking alphas and how they kept those below them in line. Jimin’s pack smelled like lavender and dandelions, while he smelled of nothing. It always piqued my curiosity. I always wondered what he smelled like to those he cared about and if it was just as intoxicating. 

Jimin reached out to one of the bottles. He moved slowly and cautiously as if afraid he’d spook me. It was rare for people to see witches practice magic, but he didn’t need to handle me like I was prey. Still, the closer he got, the drier my mouth became, and I couldn’t bear to look at him. I was sure he was getting some sort of enjoyment from how flustered he made me.

His hand brushed against mine. Just a light touch, but it sent shivers down my spine. I turned my head to see him looking directly at me. His expression was soft and his gaze was warm. He was aware of the effect he had on me, and I felt the embarrassment rise within me again.

"Thank you, Bridd," he said softly, his voice as gentle as a caress.

I managed a nod, my heart pounding. "You're welcome, Jimin."

With that, he took the bottle and stepped back. Hoseok, oblivious to the tension, clapped his hands together. "Well, that’s that! Let's get these to the pack."

They gathered up the boxes, and I walked them to the door. Hoseok gave me a playful wink. "Don't be a stranger, Bridd. We like having you around."

Jimin nodded in agreement. "Yes, please visit us sometime. The pack would be honored."

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me. "I'll consider it. Safe travels, both of you."

As they left, I watched them disappear into the woods. The cottage felt empty and quiet without their presence. Sighing, I went back inside, already missing the brief company. Shiloh swooped down from her perch, landing gracefully on the counter.

"They're quite something, aren't they?" she commented, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

I couldn't help but smile. "Yes, they are. Quite something indeed."

With the potion complete and the cottage returning to its usual stillness, I allowed myself a moment to reflect. Life as the Bridd was often solitary, but it had its moments of connection and warmth, reminding me that even in the depths of the forest, I was never truly alone.

The sun was setting when I finally woke, and I was thankful the change hadn't woken me up. Transforming had not always been so painful for my family, but legend says that once Rosette became the first Brigg, her natural ability to shift had become the most painful experience in her life. Aldara told me it was a sacrifice she made to protect her sister, but I always thought it was a cruel and unusual punishment. The sun was almost completely set, and Shiloh was nowhere to be seen. She must have left already. I would have to fulfill my promise another day.

Stretching, I decided to head into the kitchen and put down some towels. Blood was a nightmare to get out of fabric, but I’d take that over scrubbing the hardwood floors. There was already enough staining on the dark wood, and I didn't like adding to it. After setting my towels down, I sat and waited for the sun to set.

Suddenly, I felt the metal around my leg loosen slightly and knew it was time. I stood up, and instant, contorting pain took over. The world began to get bigger as I shrank down, and I cried out as the first feathers burst from my legs. Having seen Bridd’s transformation with my own eyes, I knew how horrifying it was to witness, and I was glad Shiloh and I were the only ones to see me like this. More feathers ripped through my skin, blood staining the floors, the sensation akin to a hot branding iron pressed against my flesh.

My body burned and twisted in agony. Falling to my knees, I screamed as my beak began to break through my skin. Even after all this time, shifting never got easier. Aldara had said it was the only true pain a Bridd could feel. If I could, I would tell her she was wrong. Flashes of fire invaded my vision, and I fell to the ground, a loud caw echoing off the walls.

It didn’t take long to get out of the pile of tattered clothes surrounding me. I was glad I was wearing something I wasn’t overly fond of. I’d use the scraps as tea towels and sew something new. Still, I should have considered taking off my clothes. I really was out of sorts today.

Flapping my wings, I felt light and energetic in this form, a stark contrast to my weighed-down human body. There were pros and cons to being a raven, but I always wished I could be like this more often—or at least whenever I chose. I resented my sun and moon routine, but this was the life of my kind. There was nothing I could do to change that.

I took flight and set off toward the trees. Shiloh would be with Morla now since the mice usually didn’t come out until the moon was higher. For her, I could sit and waste away my nights listening to overdramatic and hyperbolized stories and then eat mice that never tasted very good. I hoped this would ease her mind about this afternoon.

A few days later, I found myself sitting at my dining table. It was freakishly large, round, and stained a disgusting teal color, but Aldara had loved it, and so I did as well. None of the chairs matched, but I think it added to its charm. I hoped all the windows in the house would let in the fresh spring air. Beltane was a week away, and I was happy to celebrate the return of summer. I would write Jin and ask if he could bring me some wood for my fireplace so I could have my own little bonfire.

The morning sun was soft, and I smiled at the smell of rain that clung to the air. My meadow rarely saw the fog that covered the rest of Bangtan, but I adored the way dew smelled on the grass. Everything sparkled and shined, made more magnificent by the sprouting wildflowers slowly making their way through the ground. Sights like this made me even more excited for the return of summer. This year, I would try to host a Summer Solstice gathering for Litha, but I’d likely forget about it.

I made a mental note to write it down, but I also knew I was likely to forget that as well. Then, I told myself not to forget. I scoffed at my internal dialogue. Taking another sip of my tea, I sighed as I stared out the window. My favorite seat in the cottage gave me the perfect view of the flower fields, and I began to reminisce about playing in the grass as a child. Most of the memories I had were with Yoongi, but Jin and Wendy made their way into our little duo eventually. We were older when everyone got close enough to be considered best friends. I frowned, thinking about how complicated things got once we all reached our late teens. It saddened me to think that we would never be as close as we were as pre-teens.

“I’m going to sleep for a while,” Shiloh’s soft voice reached my ears. She was in her nest; I could make out the sounds of her talons against the wood, and I knew she was exhausted. She had spent the entire night out with Morla and Patto. “Wake me if you need something.”

“You should sleep outside,” I whispered back. “I will need to use the kitchen in a little while and might wake you.”

Shiloh shuffled around some more, and I heard her fly out the window. The faint rustling of tree leaves made me grin. My hearing was not as good as Shiloh’s or any of the wolves, but I was pleased with what I could make out. All my friends found it impressive when we were kids, but after Jin said I was a showoff when we turned twelve and made me cry, the conversation surrounding my slightly enhanced senses dropped.

I went through two more cups of tea before I saw the flash of white from the other side of the tree line. Squinting, I tried to make out the shape but couldn’t see enough of whatever it was to be useful. However, its size gave me a few hints. It was a wolf, and if the gentle whimpers were anything to go by, it was hurt. Putting down my cup, I called out to the wolf.

“Are you injured?” I asked, knowing the wolf could hear me once the whining stopped. “If so, then I can help you. I have enough supplies to get you back to the forest in a few minutes.”

The wolf seemed to consider this for a moment, as it didn’t move toward me. I suspected this was the same wolf from the other night, but I couldn’t say with certainty. White wolves were not a rare occurrence—Jimin was a beautiful white-silver color, as was Ahn. I scowled at the comparison. That was where the similarities ended. While I was busy with my thoughts, I hadn’t noticed the wolf getting closer until it was almost at my window.

“Come around the other side. You might need to shift back to fit through the door.”

The wolf seemed uncomfortable by this. I saw red stains on his hind legs, but I would need him to let me help if he wanted them to heal nicely. Wolves could heal scars and injuries like anyone else, but magic sped up the process and ensured a good recovery. This wolf would know that, but perhaps he felt self-conscious about someone knowing him as weak. Wolves were too prideful.

“Or,” I sighed when I realized the wolf wouldn’t shift, “I could teleport you inside and back outside. It feels a bit strange at first but it’s harmless.”

The wolf’s tail wagged happily, so I took that as my answer. I began to sing an incantation while picturing the spot in my living room. I thought about the red and white patterned rug as well as my sewing chair. I counted every stone that made up my fireplace and the knives that hung above it. I began to think about my small kitchen with its black cabinets, too large dining table, and mismatched chairs. My altar sat in front of the large windows at the front of the house, with beautiful, scented candles on it. All of it combined into one perfect picture of the cottage with a complete rendition of the rug I wanted the wolf to walk on. Feeling confident about my image, I began to draw the shape of a door with my fingertips and pushed it open with my hands.

The wolf looked excited by the magic show, and his tail began to wave frantically. I frowned when I noticed the slight limp he walked with, but he was already walking through the door I drew outside. In the next second, the door opened into my living room, and the wolf walked inside. I gawked at the sheer size of the white wolf and hoped he wouldn’t break my things. I might have to shrink him down to size after all. I asked the wolf if that would be alright, and he sat down like an obedient dog. A picture of Mannix came to mind, and I hid a giggle with a hand.

The wolf was now only twice the size of a coyote. A far better size to move around in my tiny space, the wolf limped off the rug and onto the wood floors. I stopped him from going any further and asked him to lay down so I could look over him.

I approached the wolf with little caution. I was glad to see my anxiety from the other day was gone, and I could touch the wolf’s wounds with ease. I could faintly feel my breathing get heavier but not uncomfortably so. I could help this wolf, who I was now certain was the same one from before. He had the same bright eyes and fluffy hair. Touching the bloodied fur, I scowled. These were teeth and claw marks, and I was angry at whoever had done this to my little friend.

“You’re really something, aren’t you?” I teased, trying to cut through the gloom that had settled between us. “Sneaking out of the village and now brawling with who knows what. What would your mother say?”

The wolf huffed, though his eyes sparkled with a touch of amusement. They were warm and rich, like polished mahogany, but with a glimmer of amber. It was an odd mix, but somehow it reminded me of Jimin’s eyes, though I’d never seen them quite so alive with emotion. 

I chuckled, rising to fetch the healing salves I kept scattered around. After all the times I’d sliced my fingers and burned my hands, I’d learned to keep remedies at the ready. This particular cream was the best I’d ever concocted and would be one of the first things I taught my successor. Simple but effective. The wolf remained still on the floor, watching me intently.

“Well, little wolf,” I said, my smile softening as I kneeled beside him. “Let’s get acquainted. I’ll start, and the next time we meet, it’ll be your turn.”

I began applying the salve to the jagged wounds on his flank. The healing was already underway, but I hoped to prevent any lingering scars. The salve clung to his fur, and I knew it would aid in the healing process. Nothing a good bath couldn’t fix later.

“People call me Bridd,” I said, concentrating on the application of the salve. “But if you’re going to hang around here, call me Y/N. Bridd sounds too formal for friends.”

“Y/N was the name my aunt gave me when I arrived. No one really knows how we ended up here, but we all agree the Gods had a hand in it. Aldara saw me and knew immediately it was the right name.”

I rifled through the tin, quickly discovering how much of it was sticking to his fur. I had to do the other side, so I went in search of more containers. I returned with four more and resumed my work. The wolf raised an eyebrow at me, clearly amused, and I laughed at my own absent-mindedness.

“I wish I knew your name,” I muttered. “Or your gender. Calling you ‘wolf’ seems rather impolite.”

The wolf let out a strange laugh, and I was taken aback. I’d always thought deer had the oddest laughs, but I was wrong. Wolves took the cake. Perhaps it was just this one. I grinned, contemplating a game.

“Shake your head yes or no,” I said. The wolf lifted his head from his paws. “Are you a woman?”

He shook his head.

“Fluid?” I asked, aware of the existence of wolves who didn’t conform to traditional gender roles. The wolf shook his head again. “So, you’re a man?”

The wolf nodded, his eyes twinkling with humor. I smiled and gestured for him to turn over. This side was more battered, and I scolded him for making me wait. He huffed and rolled his eyes, clearly not a fan of being fussed over.

I paid closer attention now. The bites and claw marks were deeper here, reaching the underside of his ribcage. I worked in silence, pushing fur out of the way to see the wounds better. The white fur tickled my wrists as I worked, and I struggled to keep it aside.

I cleaned off the bloodstains, revealing more bite marks. After applying more salve, I double-checked his body and hips. Once satisfied, I rewashed his fur. The wolf’s leg kicked when I scrubbed his right side, and I laughed.

“You’re good to go,” I said, patting his side.

The wolf’s ears pulled back, and he seemed reluctant to leave. We both knew he needed to get back to the village before they sent out a search party. As much as I wanted him to stay, I knew he’d be uncomfortable if they found him here. He shuffled closer and placed his head in my lap. I played with his ears, reluctant to let him go. It was nice to be around someone who simply enjoyed my company without any strings attached.

“Don’t worry, little wolf,” I whispered, burying my hand in the fur on his head. “You’re always welcome here.”

A week and a half after Hoseok’s visit, I had reignited the cauldron to tackle an order. Yoongi had back orders, and the sea coven was growing impatient. The potions were straightforward, and Delinah had gone to secure the necessary supplies. I’d sent Yoongi a letter to let him know I was back on my feet. He had sent bowl after bowl of soup laced with the finest healing magic and enough drinks to stock a small bar. I had to beg him to stop before my fridge was overflowing. He would be relieved to know I was back to magic and foraging.

I planned to visit Foxglove after sundown. Sol had asked me to come when I was well enough, and I figured now was as good a time as any. I’d finish my daily tasks, then prepare to see Sol. A shower was in order—I smelled terrible. After the meeting, I’d fly to Foxglove to hand-deliver a couple of apology letters to Jimin and Hoseok for my outburst. I knew they weren’t strictly necessary, but I’d feel better once I’d done it.

“You have a letter,” Shiloh called as she entered the kitchen, a small blue envelope clasped in her beak. Probably Yoongi again.

“Thanks, darling,” I said, reaching for the envelope.

Y/N,

I hope this letter finds you in good spirits. Since Shiloh’s been by, I’m guessing you’re on the mend and well enough for her to make the journey across Bangtan. Do write back and let me know how you’re faring. Can I drop by tonight? Just want to make sure you’re still kicking.

Yoongi

I chuckled, shaking my head. It wasn’t like Yoongi to ask for permission to come over. We were close in age—he was two years my senior—and his mother had been a close friend of Aldara’s when she was alive. Back then, we’d run wild in flower fields until I got possessed, and Yoongi had to undertake the daunting task of finding me. My power had been far more volatile and frightening back then, but he still thought I was the most incredible witch around. Even if he couldn’t say it outright now, I knew that sentiment lingered. I prepared some paper and ink to write back.

The night was windy, my feathers ruffling with the breeze. I’d just finished meeting with Sol. We had to meet in shifted form; my bird could only speak with wolves who were fully shifted. As a human, I had no such luck. It was a limitation of my abilities, but it didn’t trouble anyone too much. The elders were also present to ensure Luna’s safety. I caught Ahn’s gaze, which was full of barely concealed disdain, and had to bite back the sharp retorts bubbling in my throat.

“I’m glad to see you’re recovering,” Sol greeted me.

“Thank you, Luna. I’m afraid I’ve caused quite a stir in Foxglove. For that, I apologize.”

Sol laughed and gave a lazy swat with her paw. “Please, Bridd. No need to apologize. You were already exhausted when the alphas arrived. It’s no wonder your instincts took over. We are predators, after all.”

After exchanging pleasantries and assuring everyone I would be present for Luna’s presentation ceremony next week, they bid me goodnight. Sol sent me home with a small gift—a wolf pendant adorned with pearls. When I asked what it signified, she merely smiled before shifting back into a human. Her silence left my curiosity hanging, but it was quickly overshadowed by my second task for the night.

Hyuna had returned less than a week earlier, so I avoided interrupting their reunion. I slipped the letter into their mailbox but felt it was a bit impersonal. Still, I knew they would understand and appreciate it. I could almost picture Hyuna’s face turning bright red when she realized why I had kept my distance. The thought made me smile, lifting my spirits as I flew toward Jimin’s home.

Finding the alpha’s residence was straightforward. He lived in the barracks with the copiae, the village warriors, in the largest bungalow. Unlike the other homes, which boasted furniture and decor, Jimin’s place was stark and barren, giving no hint of its occupant. His mailbox was a small, black box with a slit at the top. I couldn’t find a way to alert him to my presence, and knocking was out of the question. Seeing the lights on, I decided to find him.

I took a deep breath and began circling the house until I spotted the alpha. He was awake, sitting at his desk. His hair was pulled up into a messy bun, strands sticking out in every direction. He wore a white tank top that clung to his well-defined muscles like a second skin. The tribal tattoo of the copiae, an Aquila emblazoned on his creamy neck, was partially covered by his shirt. I took a moment to enjoy the sight, wondering how long it would take him to notice me. In the moonlight and candle glow, Jimin was a vision.

A strong gust of wind threatened to give me away. Aldara had said my scent could be detected from a mile away. Jimin lifted his head, sniffed the air, and then turned sharply toward the trees. Our eyes met, and I hopped onto his windowsill. It took him a moment to grasp what was happening, but soon he was opening the window, a small smile playing on his lips. He looked so young and approachable, and I lost myself in his scent as the window creaked open.

“Good evening, Bridd,” he said, his voice smooth like silk. I inclined my head in response.

“Oh,” he chuckled, “I forgot we can’t speak like this.”

I nodded and shook the bag from my neck. Jimin’s eyes lit up as he picked it up. My heart raced. He had always been a figure I both admired and feared, but right now, he was simply a man I cared for deeply. I often felt foolish for desiring someone I could never truly have, and guilt for even considering a relationship. But in this moment, with the moonlight dancing on his face and the warm glow of candles behind him, those thoughts felt distant.

“Is this for me?” he asked, and I nodded.

Jimin extended his hand, and though it felt strange, I hopped onto his waiting palm. We’d never been this familiar, but perhaps seeing me in a state of panic had stirred some pity in him. That thought bothered me more than it should have, but it was easier to think of it as him extending an olive branch, wanting me to feel at ease. That was a far more pleasant notion.

“I’m glad to see you flying around again. I heard you were bedridden the past few days.”

I tilted my head, and he understood the unspoken question. “Morla,” he confirmed. It made sense.

Jimin placed me gently on his bed, and I took in the room’s warm ambiance. The stark contrast to the outside was striking. His room was softly illuminated by candles, with a rich vanilla scent wafting through the air. Sage burned in a corner, and various pieces of armor decorated the walls. A large scroll with his name and two small paw prints hung prominently. It was a tradition for wolves to display such symbols after their presentation ceremony. Above the scroll hung his family’s sword, alongside drawings of his family. Jimin settled beside me and began unpacking the bag. He opened my letter first.

My Dearest Alpha,

I’m writing to offer my sincerest apologies for the outburst that transpired. I’m at a loss to explain what overtook me—one moment I was calm, and the next, I could barely breathe. Panic is a frequent visitor, though it’s usually not triggered by wolves. I hope you can forgive me. To make amends, I’ve included a small gift.

I trust you’ll find the knife to your liking. It’s one of my older creations, made from an elk’s scapula and shaped into an arrow-like blade. I wrapped the handle in twine, tree sap, and moss to give it a sturdier grip, though it was too cumbersome for my use. I hope it finds a better home with you rather than gathering dust in my cellar. There’s also a tin of tea leaves included. Would you care for a cup?

Bridd

Jimin’s face lit up with a bright smile as he examined the items I’d packed. I turned away, feeling a tinge of shyness. The knife, crafted with care from an elk’s scapula, had been a labor of love. Its handle, thick and wrapped in twine, tree sap, and moss, had been designed to be sturdy, though it had always felt too unwieldy for my own use. Seeing Jimin’s appreciation for it, as though it were forged from the finest steel, swelled my chest with pride.

“Tea sounds lovely, amica. I’ll prepare my favorite.”

The term “amica” was unfamiliar to me, though it sounded endearing. Wolves had their own array of nicknames; Hoseok and Hyuna used “caritate,” meaning love. This new word could mean friend or something akin. I’d have to ask Hoseok about it when next we met.

Jimin, though short for a wolf, was still towering over me. At two feet taller than I, his lean, muscular frame was devoid of excess fat. His physique was as agile as it was strong. I couldn’t recall ever seeing him stumble or hearing the faintest sound of his footsteps. As I admired his form, a fresh wave of heat coursed through me—he was nothing short of divine.

“Come,” he said, extending his hand once more. “I’d like to enjoy a cup of tea with you while we chat.”

I hopped into his hand without hesitation, savoring the warmth radiating from him. Wolves, much like vampires, were unaffected by the chill of the night. Where vampires were icy to the touch, wolves maintained a comforting warmth even in a blizzard. Jimin’s skin was a soothing contrast to the windy night.

His home mirrored the coziness of his bedroom. Personal artifacts adorned the walls, and warm light bathed the space. The living room featured a large sofa, a table, and a fireplace, with a glass display case on the mantle showcasing significant mementos, including the feather from his ceremony. I spotted his alpha sash tucked away in a corner. A large bay window, previously unnoticed, was lined with blankets and pillows, with a slender bookcase nearby. An open book rested atop the fabric mountain, its title hidden from view.

The kitchen was modest, akin to my own, with only the essentials. I marveled at his stove—a sleek, black, cast-iron model with a firewood compartment. It far surpassed the one at my cottage. The only personal touches were two towels draped over the oven handle and a bottle of red wine on the counter. The label indicated it was from Virdi Gramine. Though not as prestigious as a Northorn vintage, I’d heard eastern wines were delightful.

Jimin placed me on the counter and set about boiling water for the tea. He examined the tin of lemon balm tea I’d brought—a favorite of mine, sent by Thelma whenever I was running low. While I usually drank black tea, hot and unsweetened, lemon balm was a robust change of pace. I hoped Jimin would find it to his liking.

“Are you feeling better?” Jimin asked with a chuckle, clearly forgetting my current form made conversation challenging.

I squawked in acknowledgment, wishing for the ease of silent company like I had with Seokjin. Jimin held up a finger and disappeared into his bedroom, reemerging with ink and paper. I was touched by his effort; it was rare for someone to accommodate my avian form so thoughtfully. Dipping my talon into the ink, I scrawled, “I’m feeling better” in my clumsy bird-like script, my usual handwriting much neater.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Jimin said, his smile bright. “I hope you’ve been getting some rest. I apologize for rushing you so soon after Taehyung’s blessing. It won’t happen again.”

He retrieved a bowl of blueberries and a lemon from his cooler. Curious, I leaned in as he zest the lemon and added it to the blueberries, then poured everything into the kettle. It was a new trick for enhancing tea, and I was eager to learn from it.

After sealing the kettle, Jimin poured the tea I’d brought into it and retrieved five other containers from the cupboard. I chuckled softly—never had I witnessed such a convoluted tea-making process. It reminded me of Seokjin, who would relish such complexity. I watched with renewed interest as Jimin began his elaborate preparation.

“Is this too much?” He laughed, scratching his neck nervously.

I dipped my talon into the ink and began to write, a task I’d grown accustomed to. When urgent messages needed sending in the dead of night, I had to be swift and clear. Jimin’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he waited for me to finish.

Not if it’s something you like. My friends would probably enjoy this tea, and I’m curious.

Jimin’s smile widened, shy and warm. “This is something my sister-in-law taught me.”

She must be quite particular to use all these blends. I assume you’re fond of blueberries.

“Clever girl,” he teased, and I blushed at his gentle ribbing. “Do you not like them? I can make something else.”

I love blueberries.

He hummed thoughtfully. As the kettle began to whistle, Jimin swiftly removed it from the heat and prepared our cups. I admired him again—my previous impression of him as big and intimidating was shifting. Seeing him now, meticulously blending chamomile flowers, peppermint leaves, and hibiscus into his tea, I realized how little I truly knew about him. Outside of his duties, Jimin was a kind soul.

“Now we steep,” he said, extracting empty tea bags and another kettle. He placed the mixture into two bags and filled the kettle with water. I tapped the counter to get his attention and began writing again.

Do you add sugar?

He shook his head, removing the tea bags and adding blueberries to the mix. He gestured for me to relax in his living room while he brought over the tea. I flew to the sink, turned on the water, and rinsed off the ink to avoid leaving a mess. Shaking myself dry, I found Jimin watching me with a soft smile. I settled at the table as he carried our cups to the sofa.

The tea was sweeter than I preferred, but I sipped it slowly, lifting my head and opening and closing my mouth to get it down. Even though the process wasn’t the most relaxing, I found no reason to complain in Jimin’s company. He drank deeply, seemingly unaffected by the heat. He glanced at me with curiosity, his eyes holding a hint of wonder.

“You didn’t have to apologize.”

I knew I didn’t, but I needed him to understand. Something inside me had urged me to make amends, despite my instincts telling me he wouldn’t hold a grudge. I had to show him how much I’d been thinking about him, how deeply I cared.

“Did you do the same for Hoseok?”

I nodded and started to write again. Jimin stood and retrieved a towel from a small closet by the bedroom door. I finished writing and hovered so he could place the towel underneath me.

Hoseok was busy when I flew by. I left him a note with a plate of muffins. He quite likes strawberries.

Jimin hummed in approval, seeming pleased with my response. I felt a flush of shyness; Hoseok would have dismissed my gesture. Jimin, however, remained an enigma. His shifting moods were bewildering, but it was becoming clearer he was trying to connect with me. He even apologized for any fright he may have caused.

“Well, while I’m grateful for everything, it wasn’t necessary.”

I didn’t know how to respond. Jimin was right; I had overdone it. I should have simply dropped off the items and left. He would have discovered them on his own. Even if a curious wolf had found the tea, it would have been less disruptive than making him feel guilty. Feeling like I’d made another misstep, I stopped drinking my tea and prepared to leave.

“Though I must admit, I’m enjoying spending time with you. You’re close with the other alphas—except Taehyung. I’m a bit envious.”

My heart skipped a beat. Jealous? Of the others? It was impossible to keep my heart from soaring. Was he truly fond of me? Why only now? The part of me that worried about his mate tried to surface, but I pushed it aside. My feelings for him blossomed into something beautiful, though I knew it could never be reciprocated.

“I should only blame myself for that,” he continued, placing his cup down. “I wasn’t very good at making you feel comfortable talking with me, and for that, I apologize.”

I hesitated but hopped closer, hoping he could see my gesture of forgiveness. He didn’t quite grasp it and continued to murmur apologies for his supposed “rudeness.” Frustrated, I tapped the table again and began to write. Jimin grew silent, leaning in to read.

You did nothing wrong, Alpha. I promise.

“I’m happy to say we’re friends now,” Jimin said with a bright grin. “Hopefully, I can brag about our closeness like Sol does.”

His kind words and affectionate tone confused me. Jimin had always seemed distant, reserved even. Now, his gentleness was a revelation. This moment was ours alone, and I knew I’d keep it close, away from the prying eyes of others, particularly Jin, who had long known of my quiet admiration.

“It’s very late, amica. You should head home. Dawn is approaching.”

I squawked and gave a quick bow. I heard the soft call of “ten” and realized I needed to leave immediately. I had to fly swiftly to make it home before dawn. I mentally thanked the spirits for their guidance, took one last look at Jimin—his smile gentle, eyes heavy with exhaustion—and squawked once more before taking to the night sky.

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

So, this is very different. After rereading the first two chapters I felt like they could have been handled so much better, and I set out to remedy this as quickly as possible. We have a new title, new banner, and even a new nickname for our MC. I hope you guy enjoy this new-ish journey we are about to embark on and I, for one, am super stoked for the future. Love you.

© chimcess, 2023. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[7ndipity]

Fae Jimin AU Headcanons

Fae!Jimin x Reader

Summary: Catching you before you fall away, he decides that you could help him with his work as an overviewer of the Sidh, helping make sure that the balance between worlds stays even, falling for your humanity as he tries to show the wonder in your own world.

Warnings: Swearing, lil angst, supernatural elements, only partially proofread

A/N: This is an idea I’ve been obsessed with for a while(cause I’m a folklore nerd), but could never figure out an overarching plot to make it into a series, so I present for your consideration: Jimin, the emotional support Fae roommate lol.

(reminder that if there’s any points you want to be made into further HCs, blurbs, etc, send me an ask!)

Masterlist Non-Linear m.list

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

How you met:

He stopped you from falling into a fairy ring in the woods. You’d happened across it while on a walk to clear your head while upset about something and ending up standing there studying it for several minutes, contemplating how nice it must be to just be able to fall into a different world where no one knew you and you could start over. Shaking out of your revere, you had turned to leave, only for your damn ankle to twist and send you off balance.

“Careful!” A pair of gentle hands came out of nowhere, grabbing your wrists and pulling you into him. You looked up and were met with his soft eyes on you.

“You should be careful.” He warned. “You know what they say if you step in those, you might end up in the fairy realm and not get to come back.” “What if that’s what I want?” You replied. He looked back at you, suddenly serious. “You don’t want that, trust me.”

After that, you keep running into him everywhere(partially due to his newfound fascination with you), eventually figuring out what he is.

He explains that he’s a type of Fae called the Sidh(pronounced shee) which are basically a type of overviewer of the Fae, their role being to keep balance and make sure that the others don’t cause too much trouble.

“There’s a lot of different doorways to and from this world, and not all of them are nice.” He explains to you, visibly tense. “Sometimes just going through the wrong door can kill you.”

Teaches you how to spot Fae.

Points out a couple walking along on the other side of the road. “See them?” He asked, leaning close as he whispers to you.

“One of them is a Sidh?”

He shakes his head, motioning to the child you hadn’t noticed trailing behind them, bouncing about, overly hyper.

“The kid?!” You exclaim, turning to him, suddenly realizing how close he was to you.

“Wait.” He leaned in, gently placing his hands over your eyes for a moment, a tingling sensation washing over your skin before pulling away. “Now look.”

You blinked, slightly dazed before you turned back, letting out a gasp as your eyes found the family again.

While the couple were the same, the child’s appearance had shifted drastically; limbs slightly too long and thin, large, glassy black eyes, their skin now a pale, almost grayish color, they almost looked like an alien.

“What the-?”

“A changeling.” He said lowly.

Teaches you about some of his magic, but warns that some of it can have ‘adverse’ effects on humans

“Wait! What about my eyes then?!” You asked suddenly.

He looked back at you slyly. “Don’t worry, it’s only temporary, this time. It should wear off in a few hours.”

He turned to walk away. “See you at home!”

Winds up just moving in with you in your little house on the edge of town that runs along the woods at the back.

“You’re a Witch!” He realized loudly as he surveyed your house, taking in the crystals and new-age items littered around(he’s not exactly right about this, but you’ll explain that to him later). You can’t tell if he’s excited or upset by this discovery at first.

(it’s both because, as he explains, his ‘charms’ don’t work as well on other magical beings, hence the constant bickering between the two of you. The fact that he can’t just ‘make’ you agree with him irritates him to no end)

Ends up revealing(probably during a fight) that he might be stuck in this world.

“I can’t go back!” “Can’t or won’t?!” “Both!” He yells. “I don’t know if I can, and if I could, I don’t want to! I like it here, with you.” His voice falters, shaking with emotions. “I want to stay with you.”

About him:

His eyes change color; sometimes they’re gray, sometimes blue, one time you could’ve sworn they were purple, but most of the time, they’re a varying shade of brown.

Fangs(you’d be surprised how often fae have them in old stories): His are small and rather feline looking, but he only shows them if he’s really angry or frightened.

Age: Not entirely sure. He says he’s been around awhile, but time moves differently for them. They still age similar to humans, just slower. They might live for longer too, but you can’t tell if he was joking or not about that one.

The biggest sweet tooth, holy shit. You once caught him in the middle of the night eating nothing but pure sugar with a spoon, he literally can’t get enough of the stuff.

The first time you gave him cotton candy, his eyes got so big, you’re pretty sure he ascended to another plane.

As well as a sweet tooth, he loves alcohol and has a very high tolerance. He can get drunk, but it takes A LOT.

Surprisingly good at lying for a Fae.

He? Perches? Everywhere?

Like, he can’t just sit on the couch? Nope, he’s on your desk, the kitchen table, the bathroom counter. It’s like living with a giant cat.

Which reminds me, he has ABSOLUTELY NO CONCEPT OF PERSONAL SPACE.

You’re trying to cook? He’s there. Going to bed? He’s there. Open the curtain to get out of the shower and yep, he’s there, just chilling.

Literally the “Hey, I was- why are you screaming? Anyway, are we out of oreos?” meme.

Walks super close to you, intentionally bumping your shoulders.(can’t tell if this is him being affectionate or annoying)

Very noseyinquisitive. Goes through all your shit, asking questions and throwing judgy looks at you, but for the oddest, most random things, like the color of your toothbrush.

Trying to explain ‘human things’ to him and how people normally act and behave. “But you’re not like that?” He commented curiously, watching you. “That’s because I’m… weird.” You said, without looking up. “I like weird.” He mumbles.

Some nights when it’s quiet, you find him out in the back garden, just sitting, sometimes with his eyes closed, almost as if he’s meditating, other times just staring off into the trees. You’ve wondered about what he’s thinking of when he’s out there, but he doesn’t tell you much.

The first time you got sick with him there, he was an absolute wreck, hardly leaving your side for more than a moment, even watching over you when you slept. Did everything he could think of to make you feel better, even considered magic, but you shut that one quick, so he just suffices with loads of tea and soup.

Likes to believe he can be somewhat intimidating or scary, but to you he's a literal ball of marshmallow fluff.

“You think I can’t be scary?” He asked in a low voice, looming over you with a dark glint in his eyes.

“Nope.” You boop him on the nose, making him pout.

“You didn’t even let me try!” He whined loudly.

“There’s no point, you don’t scare me!” You laughed.

“I should though! I am an ominous, fearsome creature from the otherworld!” He proclaimed dramatically, making you laugh harder. “I will drain your lifeforce for my own power!”

“That’s for vampires!” You giggled.

“Vampires are a type of Sidh.”

“Wait really?!” You perked up in interest, making him roll his eyes and walk away. “Are they really? Jimin?!”

[btsydtrash]

Euphoric Endeavors [20]

vampire bts, poly ot7 x uni student yn

Through a series of curious happenstances, the Boys of Bangtan - your campus’ most popular and most handsome group of individuals - set their sights on you, a regular student with a stubborn streak and a wayward mouth.

Strangely enough, the mere sight of them sets your instincts off, red-lights flashing in your brain - danger, danger, danger, danger.

It’s too bad that they can’t seem to leave you alone, though. They like you too much.

(angst / smut / yandere / fluff / gore)

Masterlist / i dont have a tag list / find me on twitter  /  word count: 5.06k

(AN: Hi, all! This story is actually already posted on AO3. But, I decided to post it on here. I have almost 50 chapters of this story up over there, so I’ll slowly be adding them onto here too)

tw: mentions of physical abuse, abandonment issues, allusions to masturbation, anger issues

Waking up the next morning, the last thing you expect to see is a wall of honeyed skin bracketing you in place.

Hoseok’s sleep-slack face is above you. The older man is laying on his stomach, one arm bent so his cheek can rest on it, the other stiff by his side. You notice, idly, that he looks infinitely younger when he’s asleep. There’s no bravado here, just him, resting, relaxed – at peace – and you wish you could see the sight every day, considering how beautiful he is.

Unconsciously, you catalogue his features, burning the slightly pointed tip of his nose in your brain. His high cheekbones and sleep-swollen lips imprint themselves in your head, and you couldn’t forget this sight even if you tried. His lashes are dark and long, and his hair is a mess of curls atop his head, exposing his forehead. He had put a headband in, apparently to keep the strands from his eyes.

Entranced, you reach up, barely touching his skin, to trace from the corner of his eye to his jaw, reverence practically shining in your eyes. He sniffs in his sleep, burrowing deeper into the safety of his arms

“Are you awake now?” A rough voice asks from behind you, making you jump out of your skin. Yoongi is staring at you from where he had been laying, content to just watch you sleep. When you had woken up, you had twisted away from him, making him pout childishly. Now, though, your attention was back on him, his lips quirk up in a private smile as he remarks, playfully, “You look like you had a good night.”

“My head hurts,” you complain, pathetically, wanting to cover your eyes with your hands. You ask, frowning slightly in confusion, “How did I get here? Why am I in bed with you guys?”

You don’t feel even remotely unsafe, but the fact that the last thing you remember is jumping onto Jungkook’s back in the back yard is disconcerting.

“You’re awfully clingy when you get drunk,” Yoongi remarks, light-heartedly. He sits up, the sheets pooling at his waist, and you notice that his shirt is too big, showing off the pale expanse of his collarbone and shoulder. It makes your mouth feel drier than before. “You wouldn’t let Hobi go to sleep on the couch, so he spent the night in bed with you.”

With burning ears, you feel yourself frown. You really ought to stop drinking so much.

Still… something about the set up of the bed makes you snicker.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re in bed with us too,” you remark.

He shrugs, expression passive. “It looked comfortable.”

“And, was it?” You enquire, rolling onto your side to glance up at him. “Comfortable, I mean.”

He glances at you, meaning imbued heavily in his gaze, and he nods. “Very.”

Cheeks pinking quickly, you drop your eyes to his shirt and you finger the smooth material, to distract yourself. “Is this Joonie’s shirt?”

He looks down at it, pulling it away from his body, before sleepily nodding. His eyes are puffy, almost half-way closed, but he seems well-rested, still floating contentedly in the vestiges of slumber. He explains, “We always wear each other’s stuff. No big.”

Feeling somewhat envious, you simply nod and move to sit up too. Hoseok’s grip tightens on your waist and he makes a noise of dissent in his sleep, brow instantly furrowing.

“He’s just as clingy as you are,” Yoongi says, a rough chuckle tumbling from his lips. He slides out of bed, scratching his scalp, messing up his already chaotic blond nest and mumbles, “I’ll go get you something to eat.”

“You don’t have to, Yoon,” you reply, cosying up to Hobi. You feel like being lazy and being so close to the dancer’s warmth makes your stomach-ache feel more manageable. “I feel like I’m taking advantage of you.”

The blond snorts, giving you an uninterested look that has you shutting up with an audible clack of your jaw. He rests his knee on the bed to press a finger to your nose, mischievously, before he comments, lightly, “I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t want to, sweetheart.”

And then he’s gone, backing out of your space and disappearing to the kitchen to whip up a quick breakfast for you to eat in bed.

Hoseok makes a soft noise in his sleep, like a mix between a sigh and a groan, before he snuggles up closer to you, so your back is flush with his chest, arm tossed over your middle. You relax into his hold, letting the soft puffs of his breath against your ear lull you back under the fuzzy blanket of exhaustion. You feel yourself succumbing to the urge to fall into your own dreams once more…

That is, until you tense up all over when you feel something hard and hot poke in your lower back.

Jerking away from the throbbing heat, you feel your face flood, instantly, in embarrassment. You curse yourself for being so skittish, but you aren’t used to being in such an intimate setting with another body, used to a quick and mostly unsatisfying romp in the sheets, followed by a swift exit and an awkward Uber ride back to your dorm room. This, however, feels intimate.

You think, mind whirring, it’s just the morning, he can’t help it. It’s perfectly natural. You’re the one making it weird. Just get up normally and he’ll let you g-

“Don’t move so much,” Hoseok grumbles, voice thick and rough and so deep with sleep that you feel tingles break out all over your body. His grip only tightens fractionally around your middle and you feel him pull himself closer to you, if that’s even possible. “You’re so warm, sunshine.”

“Mphm, Hobi,” you grumble, struggling to worm your way out of his steel-like grip. For someone who’s half-asleep, he sure likes to hold on tight. You feel bad for the plushies that Joon says he steals off his bed. You say, quickly, trying to avoid rubbing against his arousal, “I need to pee!”

“Liar,” he whispers against the skin of your shoulder, dry lips pressing briefly against your skin, so light that it feels as if he’s kissing you. He still sounds out of it, disorientated even. “You just want to leave me.”

Huffing, you wiggle harder, actively pulling yourself away from him, but he only lets out a growl of disapproval. You say, “When you wake up properly, you’re going to be so embarrassed.”

“Nothin’ to be ‘barrassed about,” he sulks, nosing into your neck, as if burrowing for more warmth. “’s normal for me to hold you like this.”

That’s where you snap, nails gripping into the meat of his forearm and shake him.

“Pressing your hard dick into my back is the antithesis of normal, Hobi,” you snap.

At that, he lets you go as if your body had just spontaneously combusted, nearly throwing himself away from you, a wall of cold air replacing the blanket of warmth that you had just been swaddled in. You barely have time to miss the feeling before you see his face crack into something you could only liken to horror.

“’m sorry!” He stammers, sitting up but covering himself with a pillow, cheeks so ruddy that you are sure that if you touched them, they would be burning with warmth. He mutters, twisting his fingers in the deep green covers, “It’s morning and I- I wasn’t thinking.”

Feeling guilty over his embarrassed appearance, you say, “It’s fine. No harm, no foul.”

He slides out of bed, shivering a little at the cold of the bedroom, before jerking his thumb to the bathroom, awkwardly. He avoids your eyes as he mumbles, “I’ll go, uh, take care of this.”

If you didn’t think your cheeks could burn any hotter, you were wrong.

“Jerk!” You toss the plushie at his head, which he ducks out of and, giggling, disappears into the bathroom.

The shower flicks on in the distance and you drown out the potential sounds of the bathroom by getting out of bed and exploring the house. Your head aches, but there’s two tablets and a bottle of water on the bedside table that you neck down instantly.

“Thanks for the medication, Yoon,” you say, softly, as you walk into the kitchen. The blond had been standing at the sink, his slender back facing you, draped in a mass of material and his narrow waist hidden from your sight, as he chewed listlessly on some of Taehyung’s mango chips.

He offers you the bag with a small smile and the two of you giggle, remembering the time Tae almost killed you in the backseat because you ate them all without asking. Well, Yoongi took most of the blame, but you definitely enjoyed more than your fair share.

“Sit with me while I cook,” he declares, and even though it should sound like a question, you wouldn’t be able to deny him even if you tried.

You hop onto the sideboard and kick your feet as you watch him expertly flit around the kitchen, snapping off the yellow washing up gloves after he had finished hand-washing the mess from last night and moving to the oven. Open flames burst from the hob and within minutes, he has a mass of bubbling hobs on the go, without issue.

“There’s a reason why I’m not allowed in the kitchen by myself,” you joke. “I would have burned myself to high hell already.”

He glances your way, briefly. “You don’t cook at all?”

“I try,” you say, before tossing another mango chip into your mouth. “My Mom says I’m hopeless with anything domestic.”

“That’s okay,” he answers, unbothered. “I’ll teach you. And anything I can’t teach you, I’ll do for you. There – no problem.”

You don’t know why but his words make your stomach feel as if a medley of butterflies had just been released and you can barely hide your smile before you ask, “Can you sew?”

“For that, you’ll have to ask Jiminie,” he says, begrudgingly. “He’s always been the one to adjust our clothes since we were kids.”

You inquire, curiosity piqued – the idea of a mini-Jimin sewing up holes in the knees of Joon’s scruffy jeans, or the split seams of Jin’s shirts when he started growing too big for his clothes, making you coo internally. “Who taught him?”

“My Mom did,” a voice calls from the hallway. Jimin saunters into the room, already dressed, hair still damp and a towel draped around his shoulders. He looks at you, eyes bright with concern. “Are you feeling better? I heard our baby got too drunk last night.”

The nickname doesn’t even give you pause anymore, considering the medley of monikers they’ve given you against your will. Despite the fact that you’re actually older than Taehyung and Jungkook, and therefore the furthest from the baby of the group, you feel warmed by the pet name.

Pouting, you nod. “I feel much better. Yoon made sure I got tablets, and he cuddled me last night. Hobi, too. It was nice.”

“And I missed out on that?” He asks, quirking his brow as he approaches you. He nudges your knees apart in a surprisingly daring act, and wraps his arms around your middle, pressing his nose to your collar. “You smell like hyung.”

“I did sleep in his bed,” you mutter, shyly. Unable to stop yourself, you grab the tail end of the damp towel and sop up the trails of water that have dripped from his hair and lead down the neck of his shirt. You complain, “You’re going to catch a cold.”

“You’ll keep me warm,” he murmurs against your skin. “Sleep with me tonight, won’t you, YN?”

Yoongi snorts from where he’s frying some kimchi pancakes in the small pan. “Now that you’ve started this tradition, I hope you don’t plan on sleeping alone any time soon, YN.”

Jimin huffs at him. “Don’t start, hyung. You got to sleep with her, so did Hobi-hyung. And Joonie got to sleep in her room. I haven’t even been in her room. You guys are being so unfair.”

He’s practically stamping his bare feet on the linoleum before you let out a light giggle at his childish, bratty antics. “Fine, fine. I’ll sleep with you tonight. I hope you don’t mind that I talk in my sleep.”

He looks at you, skin glistening and smelling faintly of aloe and eucalyptus, directly into your eyes, holding your gaze for a beat. “As long as you’re with me, honey, I won’t mind if you do anything.”

////

After breakfast in bed with Jimin, Hoseok and Yoongi all piled around you like a pack of baby bears, watching one of Hoseok’s shows on Netflix (“Shut up, Jimin! If I miss any more of this because of your infernal mouth-breathing, I’m going to shave your eyebrows off. Again!”), you find yourself being whisked away by a well-dressed Jin.

“I’ve got a meeting with my father,” he says, once you make a face at his expensive suit and tie, even though it’s definitely Saturday and it isn’t even noon. “Do I meet your expectations, petal?”

You roll your eyes at his smug expression, but you nod, excitedly. “You really do look like an idol.”

“God didn’t give me this face for no reason,” he says, gesturing to his puffy lips with a wink. “Isn’t that Jungkook’s shirt?”

You look down at the button up that you had been handed by a sleepy Taehyung (really, he’d shoved it into your hands before he fell back asleep in your lap, dribbling into the crease of your thigh), and nod, vaguely. “Maybe?”

“It smells like him,” he comments, lips turning down. “I should have given you my shirt. Quick, YN. Get changed into mine.”

“Why?” You ask, laughing at his conspiratorial look. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I just- I want you to smell like me, is all,” he replies, pouting. “You spend so much time with the others… I don’t get to be with you as much.”

You move to deny his statement, but honestly, you can’t. You say, reaching for the sleeve of his blazer, “How about… After your meeting, how about we go for some food together? Just us?”

The way his eyes glitter at your words makes it all worth it. Despite the rolling of your stomach, the brilliance of his smile makes you feel as if you had somehow saved the nation.

“Let’s go, YN,” he says, grabbing your hand and leading you out of the apartment. He doesn’t let go of your hand the whole drive to his Dad’s building, holding it over the console, running his thumb along the seam of your index finger, only letting you go to change gears, before swiftly knitting your fingers back together, as if it had always belonged there.

Arriving at his father’s building, you feel significantly out of your depth.

“It’s huge, right?” The tall man says, staring up at the skyrise with barely concealed repugnance in his eyes. “Just being here brings my mood down. Knowing it exists makes me feel sick.”

You let out a soft sigh, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. He looks down at you, as if realising you’re still by his side. “I’ll be here for you, you do know that, right?”

He lets out a barely-there smile before setting his jaw. “I’ll be back out in an hour or so. You can sleep in the backseat, if you want.”

“I’m not coming in?”

He looks over at you, surprise raising his brows to nearly his hairline. “You want to meet my father?”

“I mean… I’m not opposed to it,” you mumble, feeling strangely put out. “You don’t want me to meet him?”

His smile dims slightly. “I want a lot of things, petal. I can’t get all of them.”

Then, he’s off, jaw hard and his expression so distant that it makes your heart clench in your chest.

You grab your phone and fire off a text to the only person you can think to ask.

Joonie… Jin and his dad have a bad relationship, right?

He replies within moments. Is he with him now?

He just left for the meeting.

Shit… Okay, after the meeting, he might be a little scary to you, or distant. But he doesn’t mean it, okay? His Dad brings out the worst in him.

Can I ask why?

Jin-hyung is the only one who can tell you that, baby girl.

Okay. Thank you for being honest.

Anything for you.

Deciding to sleep rather than stress out over the occurrences in the room hundreds of meters in the air, you slide off your shoes and curl up, using your coat as a blanket. You don’t think Jin will be back for a while, so with that thought in mind, you end up drifting off, the image of a happier, content Seokjin being the last thing you see.

/

The door slams open and closed with such force, the car shakes, waking you with a start. You look over, eyes still bleary with sleep, to see a murderous-looking Jin, eyes black with rage and his jaw wound so taut, you’re sure it hurts.

“Jin-”

“Not now,” he growls, tone clipped and ice-cold.

The sight and sound of him makes your jaw snap closed, shoulders stiffened with discomfort and, honestly, a small bit of fear. You care for Jin, a lot more than you feel is normal, but this side of him, you aren’t used to.

He glances at you, briefly, before letting out a soft sigh, wincing at the sight of you – withdrawing from him. He reaches across the console, and with a quick squeeze of your hand, he says, quieter, “Please, YN. I don’t want to take it out on you, so just… give me some time, okay?”

You nod. “Okay.”

His eyes plead with you to understand. “Petal…”

“I’m giving you space, Jin,” you say, removing your hand from his and curling it in your lap, the skin burning.

He sighs, returning his hand to the steering wheel and pulling away from the building. Although you are moving away from the cause of his stress, it feels as if the stiffness in the air only grows the longer you are both in the car. Rather than moving towards the dorm, you realise that Jin is driving you in a direction that you’ve never been before.

“What-” You catch yourself before you make another mistake by bothering him, crossing your arms over your chest and glaring, obstinately, out of the front window. You drive and drive and drive, until you start to feel sleepy again. And it’s only when you actually do drift off that he puts the car into park and you hear him shift his body to face you. You glance around – you’re in a fairly empty car park atop a hill, overlooking the Seoul mid-afternoon skyline. You can imagine that it would be awfully beautiful at night.

“Can you look at me, petal?”

You refuse, staring straight ahead.

He lets out a frustrated sigh. “Please, YN.”

A small part of your anger melts at the way he says your name.

He twists his hands in his lap, nervously, and shifts in his seat. “I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“Then, you shouldn’t have spoken to me like that,” you reply, simply. “I didn’t realise me being here would have put you in such a bad mood. I wouldn’t have come if I knew.”

“Don’t say that,” he implores, weakly. “I always want you around.”

“Sure, you do,” you sass back.

He reaches, limply, for your wrist, and you against your better judgement and bruised ego, you let him take it.

“You’re so precious to me, to all of us. I just-” He lets out a disappointed noise in the back of his throat, holding onto you like a lifeline. “Sometimes, I wish I had never been born.”

This piques your interest, having never experienced this side of him. “What do you mean?”

He doesn’t meet your eyes, simply choosing to focus on the veins beneath your skin, tracking them obsessively with his eyes. Not in hunger, but as a reminder that you are here, that you are present and with him in the moment.

He continues, “I’ve always been the oldest of our cluster, meaning I had a lot of responsibilities from a young age, like most hyungs do. I did what I had to do, I loved my little brothers and cared for my cluster, following Namjoon’s orders and being the best I can be. But… Why is it never enough, YN?”

You turn to him now, brow puckering as his eyes lose focus and he becomes consumed with his thoughts.

“Why is it never enough for him? Nothing I do, nothing I say. It’s always nothing but shit to him. He looks at me like he wishes I were dead,” he says, and the honesty in his expression blows a hole in your chest. You feel as if he’s ripped your heart out with his bare hands. You knit your fingers with his, shuffling forward slightly so your knees are touching.

“I told you my brother is supposed to be CEO of the company in my father’s stead, right? Well, that’s unlikely to happen, considering he’s busy fucking through half of Europe, blowing our Dad’s money on hookers and expensive blood stimulant drugs. He won’t have to take that responsibility until he’s ready, just because he’s the oldest. But me? I’m forced to go to a university I hate, study a degree I despise for a man I would much rather never see again.”

“Jinnie…”

“He never sees my brother as in the wrong, no matter what he does,” he complains, grip tight on your hand. “But me, if I get anything less than a hundred on a test, or if I miss class because I have to work because I would rather starve than take his fucking money, I won’t hear the end of it for days.”

“He tears me down until there’s nothing left,” he growls. “He makes me so angry, and then I do the same thing that he always does. I get distant. I feel nothing inside, because that’s better than feeling everything and breaking down so pathetically like this.”

“You aren’t pathetic, Jin,” you tell him, pushing some of his dark hair out of his watery eyes. “You’re so strong and so important to me. To all of us.”

He lets out a shaky breath, hands trembling. “Just living in that apartment, knowing that he’ll willingly throw it back in my face, makes me so angry. But I do it. Because the boys need somewhere to live. And I wouldn’t forgive myself if I let them suffer because of my stupid pride.”

He cards a hand through his hair, forehead damp with sweat. He’s overwhelming himself into a panic.

“I hate him, YN. I hate how he never acknowledges anything that I do. I hate how he always takes my brother’s side,” he says, and when he finally looks at you again, his eyes are laced with pain and you practically feel his soul crying out for you. You grab his hand tighter when he chokes out a sob. “I hate that I keep wanting him to be proud of me.”

“It’s okay, Jin,” you soothe, crawling over and opening your arms for him to wrap himself around you. Patting his back, gently, you rub your hand in small, rhythmic circles, and whisper sweet nothings into his ear. “It’s okay to want his approval. He’s your father, this successful mogul, and the person who you have been looking up to for your whole life. You don’t have to feel stupid for wanting him to say he’s proud of you.”

He lets out a broken whine at your words, pulling your hand to his lips as he breathes against the skin. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

You pull him in close, pressing dry kisses to his temple and letting him rest his face in the crook of your neck. The angle is awkward because he’s so much bigger than you, but he seems to need it regardless.

“You’re okay.”

“You’re safe.”

“I’m proud of you.”

“You aren’t alone.”

“We care for you.”

“You’re so strong.”

You keep the one thing you can feel bursting from behind your lips to yourself, too scared to ruin the atmosphere of trust that he had given you. You feel his tears stain your shirt, but you pay it little mind. This is about Seokjin – the one person who you had always looked at as a pillar of strength and playfulness. Little did you know, there was a maelstrom of pain and anguish hidden behind his bright smile.

Once his breathing calms and the tears have dried on his cheeks, you take a good look at him, watery eyes, pink cheeks, red-raw lips from where he’d bitten them to keep the sobs at bay, and you feel your earlier displeasure dissolve into nothingness. How stupid must you have been to have held something so petty over his head when he had needed comforting so much.

“Honey…”

He scoffs, lightly, scrubbing at his face with his sleeve, staring down at his large hands. “You and Jimin are the same, only using that nickname when you feel sorry for me. Or, when you want something.”

“I’ll call you honey all the time from now on,” you promise, reaching for his hand. He looks at where your hands are joined, sniffing a little more, and your heart aches at how much of a pathetic figure he seems, all scrunched up in the corner of his car. “You can talk to me, honey.”

He groans, staring at the roof of the car. “My brother isn’t exactly business-friendly. He’d wreck my Dad’s company in a year, tops, but my father has a very traditional mindset. He thinks because hyung is older, he deserves to run the company, no matter how bad his personality is. Unfortunately, that means I’m the one who has to pick up the slack, as his younger brother.”

He turns your hands over, playing with the ring on his finger, idly. “I didn’t want to do business, you know.”

“I can tell,” you say, softly, stroking his fingers in a gesture of comfort. “What did you want to do?”

He lets out a humourless laugh. “I wanted to act.”

And, honestly. It makes sense. Jin’s personality favours the ostentatious, the bright and the loud, the melodramatics of theatre fit his persona perfectly.

You ask, “Wanted, as in past tense?”

He glances at you. “It’s not like there aren’t supernatural actors. Lee Minho is a selkie.” His eyes widen, slightly, and he murmurs, contritely, “Oh, I shouldn’t have told you that. Well, you won’t tell anyone. I trust you.”

It doesn’t even surprise you anymore, so you simply smile at his admission and continue to draw soft shapes on the back of his hand.

“The first time I saw my father laugh was the day I told him I wanted to act,” he says, resentfully. “He said that there was no way someone as uninteresting as me could entertain anyone. He said that I should only focus on what I was good at – studies – and that I should throw my stupid dreams of acting out of my mind before he beat some sense into me.”

You decide, instantly, that you hated his Dad more than you’ve hated anyone else in your life.

Cautiously, you ask, brow puckering, “He didn’t ever… you know, hit you, did he?”

“Sometimes,” Jin replies. “Nothing I couldn’t handle. It wasn’t like I didn’t deserve it. I was a flighty kid, even more than I am now, so… Yeah.”

“Nobody deserves to get hit, Jin,” you tell him, eyes shining with unshed tears. “I’m really… I’m just sorry this happened to you.”

He smiles, softly, and wipes his thumb across your cheek, catching a stray tear and flicking it away. “Don’t cry for me, YN. I’m made of tougher stuff.”

“I’m not,” you grumble, holding his hand a little tighter. “I’m upset for you.”

He chuckles, wetly, at your scowl, bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a quick kiss there. “You’re so cute.”

His smile slowly disappears as he stares out at the city in front of the two of you, hands intertwined over the console in the car, before he sits up a little straighter. “Once I graduate, I’m leaving.”

The bottom of your stomach falls out at his words, instantly, at his words.

Drawing away, slightly, you ask, “W-What do you mean ‘leaving’?”

“I don’t want to stay here anymore,” he admits, quietly. “I’ve already talked to Joonie about it, and he’s willing to let me go.”

“Seokjin.”

He looks over at you, surprised by the hard tone of your voice, and his eyes widen even more at the sight of the tears in your eyes. “What’s wrong, petal?”

“You can’t leave us,” you tell him, gripping his sleeve, as if he’s getting ready to go away now. “W-What are we supposed to do?”

“I’m not leaving forever, petal,” he says, softly, reaching to tuck some hair behind your ear. “Just a year or so. To find myself, you know? It’ll be good for me.”

You still can’t make sense of the agony rushing through your system. The idea of not seeing Jin, of not hearing his loud laugh or seeing the mop of dark hair poking out of the burrito of blankets in the living room at 3am when both of you can’t sleep. Or, holding his hand in the dark under those same sheets and feeling his slow heartbeat pulse against your ear, lulling you to sleep.

You can’t say anything, not wanting to guilt him for wanting to explore, but also being unable to force yourself to support him either.

You simply can’t imagine him being absent from your life, it just doesn’t make sense.

- end -

(1), (2), (3), (4), (5), (6), (7), (8), (9), (10), (11), (12), (13), (14), (15), (16), (17), (18), (19), (20)

[kittyscupcakeandbunny]

My BFF is a Vampire

18+

BLOOD SUCKERS

Characters: ot7 x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, described sex scenes, death, consumption of alcohol and blood, threesome, male and male intercourse, explicit sexual interactions, sharp objects, knife play, wax play, blood play, and more.

Genre: supernatural, fantasy, vampire, angst, reversed harem, best friends to lovers.

🩸My Master List🩸

Intro;

I knew something was wrong in the small city I’ve been living ever since I was born here and after I graduated from high school I was sure it had nothing to do with the fact that the whole year this small hell of a city called Spring Villa always rained every day.

Every god damn day.

Not that i was complaining, one summer during a high school trip to California was enough for me to realize hot weather was not for me. One day to be more specific, it was my first time and everything seemed so more alive and colorful. But all come to an end since i had to spend the rest of the trip at the hospital with an IV inside my arm due to being exposed to the sun for too long, just one afternoon which was the same as everyone else did but i was the only one who almost died that day for burning on the sun and end up looking like a hot Cheeto. After that i even started to enjoy the cold humid air hitting my face every day when i left to work, the only thing it didn’t change was my hatred for the rain every morning. Getting wet before work was not very enjoyable, everyone could agree on that note.

But the beautiful weather of the city was not the most uncanny thing about it, it has been almost ten years since a serial killer was circling around the Spring Villa. I was only a teen when everything became known to everyone in the city that something wasn’t right, so many bodies were found around Spring Villa along the years people began to stay at home locked away from everything. Some left the city for once and never came back, those who stayed were people who had nowhere else to go, like me.

My father was terrified of the accidents involving the serial killer in town and he too left before anyone else, leaving me and my mother behind. I couldn’t blame him especially after my brother ended up becoming one of the victims, when the police officer called for my parents to identify the body it didn’t felt real to me. I was not allowed to go since at the time i was underage but, I didn’t even got a chance to say goodbye either. My parents didn’t do a funeral for him, it was all too much to bear so instead he was cremated and thrown on a river on the west side of Spring Villa his favorite place to hide with his friends. Ever since that happened my parents have not been the same, I knew that sooner or later this was bound to happen. When father left it was the last straw of sanity of my mother, she became an alcoholic and well… not good.

I’ve been working at the Spring Grill ever since I graduated high school, apart from so many people leaving the city many others came from cities around the town to get a bit of incloser about the serial killer of Spring Villa, he was never caught and that mystery seemed to amaze many tourists around town.

People from all over came to my stupid silly little city to make videos about the killer of my brother, at first I was so angry at them I wished they just didn’t came at all but, over the years it became dull and empty inside my heart. I had more to worry about then that and since I needed money to pay the rent I was more then happy so many tourist came to Spring Villa.

After all I meet my best friend like that.

Notes: Hello readers! Here’s a new story for all of you I truly hope you guys enjoy this work as much as you all been enjoying my old works. This story has been going around my mind a lot and I thought what better time to write then now? So here it is! Taglist is open so leave your request in the comments and I’ll add you! Love all of you, Author. 🩵

[interesting-interludes]

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!! 💖

[writingforsimps]

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

——————————

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.

[sopejinsunflower]

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!

[iceprincessviviane]

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 💖

[justimajin]

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.”

[mxckiemxn]

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.

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

[chimcess]

→ Chapter Three: Harboring a Fugitive 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: 10.3k+ 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: Long haired Jimin, Strong language, blood, main character injured, main character beaten (not explicit), fighting, argument, near death experience, angst, fluff, backstory time, flashbacks, I’m putting PTSD on all of these because poor reader is suffering, I love Taehyung so much, I forgot how much I missed his playful attitude, brooding Jimin as always, crying, hurt/comfort, I hate Ahn, let me know if I missed anything A/N: This rewriting has been more fun than I thought it would be. I think the next chapter will have the most changes thus far, but I am still trying to keep everything as close as possible. Thanks for reading!

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I was jolted awake by a frantic pounding on the front door. My eyes cracked open, and the sting of exhaustion made them burn like hot coals. As I surveyed the room, I realized I’d been changed and cleaned, but Yoongi’s presence was conspicuously absent. Jimin, too, seemed to have vanished, though I couldn’t recall when Yoongi had arrived. Sleep was already slipping through my fingers, the relentless knocking dragging me back to wakefulness.

With a groan of protest from every muscle, I limped to the living room. Shiloh’s gentle breathing from her nest was the only sound beside the incessant banging. It struck me that she must have been utterly spent to have slept through it all. At last, I reached the door and threw it open, only to be greeted by one of the most heart-wrenching sights I’d seen in ages.

Kim Taehyung stood there, a broken mess. His hair was a tangle of knots and his body was a bruised and battered mosaic of purples and blues. I forced myself to straighten up, though my exhaustion made it a struggle. As I guided him inside, my heart shattered at the sound of his sobs.

Ahn had clearly done a number on him, and the rage that simmered beneath my surface was nearly overwhelming. But Taehyung was in no state to handle my fury. His suffering was both physical and emotional, and I needed to tend to him first. As he choked out the details of his ordeal, I listened with clenched teeth.

After we left, Ahn had dragged Taehyung into a secluded room at the palace, where the beating began. It was as if the old man believed he could pummel the boy into submission. The thought nearly made me scream. Soon, three others from the council joined in, and though some had protested, none had the courage to stand against it. Sol had been taken from him, her screams echoing in his ears.

“I’ve got your face,” I muttered, dipping back into a jar of salve. I’d already applied two jars to his face and neck. “Strip down. I need to check for infections.”

Taehyung nodded through his tears. I didn’t let myself stare too long, though it was impossible not to see the condition of his battered body. I focused on his stomach, my hands working with a rough, frustrated rhythm.

“I can’t believe this,” I grunted. “Why did you let them do this to you?”

Taehyung winced as I pressed too hard on a tender spot. “I didn’t want to fight,” he said. “I don’t want to rule with violence. Fighting and shouting… it’s uncivilized.”

I laughed, though it was devoid of humor. “So, you let them do whatever they want with you? You’d let them kill you?”

He was silent, unable to answer. 

“If you want to be taken seriously,” I said, opening another jar of salve and rubbing it into his chest, “you have to stand up for yourself. Your idea of civility doesn’t align with the old guard.”

Taehyung’s expression darkened, and he looked genuinely troubled. His naivety struck me hard, and I felt a surge of anger. If Ahn were here, I’d deal with him myself. How dare he orchestrate such cruelty? The thought of him parading around while a child suffered made my blood boil.

While I agreed with Taehyung’s ideals, the others would never accept them easily. He needed to fight if he wanted respect. Chief Ahn would never allow a different kind of leadership. My anger flared again—Kim Taehyung was far more worthy of leadership than that miserable excuse for a man. An epiphany hit me: no one else was as suited to rule Foxglove as Taehyung, with his diplomacy and kindness.

“I understand,” I said, wincing as Taehyung flinched away from my touch. “But you can’t let them push you around. Their views of manhood are archaic, and though your village knows it, fear makes people cling to the familiar. Ahn exploits that fear to boost his own ego.”

Taehyung’s gaze was inscrutable, his eyes following my every movement but revealing nothing. He seemed to be weighing my words carefully.

“I wanted to fight,” he confessed, his voice a whisper of shame. “I wanted to kill them all, but then they’d win. I’d become the man they wanted me to be, but the village would fear and resent me like they fear Ahn.”

His introspection was unexpected but not unwelcome. I’d never heard him speak with such depth before. His voice, deep and smooth like molasses, carried a melancholy tune. It was a stark contrast to his youthful charm, making me remember he’d only turned eighteen a month ago.

“Isn’t running away also letting them win?” I asked gently.

Taehyung sighed. “I had no choice. Ahn was trying to stir up enough trouble to force someone to challenge me for Sol. No one took the bait, so I managed to slip away. Jong-gyu helped me get out, and Eun-jin told our mother I was leaving.”

Taehyung’s siblings always seemed to feature in his stories, and their importance to him was clear. Jong-gyu, only eleven, and Eun-jin, just six, were his little anchors. The thought of them plotting an escape for their eldest brother was heartbreaking.

I wiped my hands on my nightgown and stood up. Taehyung was smeared in salve, and the bruises were already fading. His ribs would need more time, so I headed to the kitchen, searching for a healing potion. I didn’t have the energy to make one from scratch at this hour.

“Why did you come here?” I asked softly.

Taehyung sighed. “Because I knew you’d help me.”

The pity I felt for him returned with a vengeance. Imagining him hurt and abandoned, unable to trust anyone else, made my heart ache. I found an old potion in the back of a cupboard, checked its scent, and decided it was still good.

“You can stay as long as you need,” I said, handing him the potion. “Sol is my friend, and I’ll do my best to keep you safe.”

Taehyung seemed relieved. He drank the potion, curled up on the couch, and was asleep almost immediately. The sight of him, so utterly exhausted, made me stifle a laugh. I began extinguishing the candles and tidying up the used salves. I’d need to prepare more soon.

Exhausted and still recovering from the ceremony, I dragged myself back to bed. Shiloh was waiting for me, her feathers ruffled in disapproval.

“How many times do I have to tell you to take your bedrest seriously?” she chided.

I groaned and collapsed into my bed. It was warm and inviting. Shiloh flapped to her nest, feathers drifting onto my sheets, but I ignored them. I was used to the constant cleaning by now.

“It was Taehyung,” I protested weakly.

“I don’t care if it was Fenrir himself at the door, you need to stay in bed—”

“Shiloh,” I warned, “Swîgian âstillian.”

The owl grumbled, but I was too far gone to listen.

The pounding at my front door was relentless, dragging me from a restless sleep. Groggy and stiff, I rolled over with a groan, my body protesting every move. Outside, a cacophony of angry voices pierced the morning quiet, and among them, someone was calling for Taehyung. That was the spark that ignited my fury. Furious and aching, I summoned my magic to lift myself out of bed and threw on my robe.

Taehyung was curled up in a tight ball in front of the sofa, barely stirring as I stormed past him to the door. Shiloh’s frantic screeches filled the air, demanding I retreat back to bed and let the wolves handle their own mess. But when their politics come knocking at my door, I had every right to give them a piece of my mind.

With a deep breath to steady my rage, I squared my shoulders and thrust my arms forward. The front door exploded off its hinges and crashed into whoever was standing behind it. Namjoon barely flinched as he shoved the door aside with a practiced swipe, his eyes wide with shock. But I wasn’t finished. I began to sing, a storm of objects swirling around the room in a chaotic dance. Namjoon staggered back, but this only fueled my anger further. Shiloh’s voice cut through the chaos as a fierce blue flame erupted from my palm and hurtled towards the wolf.

“Hwæt−hwugu ðrîstian êow?” I roared, the magic dissipating as my singing ceased. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

Hoseok and Jimin flanked their brother, their expressions a mix of concern and annoyance. I knew I’d regret attacking them eventually, probably the moment they left, but in this moment, I couldn’t bring myself to back down. No one was going to come here and intimidate me. The rational part of my brain screamed for me to stop, breathe, and listen, but the louder, angrier voice wanted to shatter them all. Taehyung had been battered and bleeding last night, and yet none of these so-called protectors had lifted a finger to help.

“Bridd—” Hoseok began.

I cut him off, my gaze locked on Namjoon. He stared at the ashen spot where the flames had struck, his face a mask of conflicted emotions. My anger burned hotter, and I felt a fresh wave of pain in my back—clearly, I had overextended myself with the magic. My body was struggling to heal, blood seeping from old wounds.

“Sê ðafian êower m¯ægð teohhian êower weorðfulnes?” I roared, my eyes blazing. “Sol chose him. The Gods chose him! Do you think you’re somehow superior to them now? Are you so blinded by your precious Chief’s biases that you’d let this happen?”

Namjoon swallowed hard, his eyes finally meeting mine. “Of course not. I—”

“You listen to me,” I sneered, cutting him off. “If you ever have the audacity to come banging on my door again, I swear, I will not show you the same mercy.”

Namjoon stammered, unable to form a coherent response. I could feel my strength waning, the red haze in my vision receding. Shiloh’s persistent shouts to come inside and let Taehyung handle things himself were drowned out by my determination. No one else was here to protect him if things turned violent, and I’d never forgive myself for leaving him exposed. I stood tall, though my stance was more relaxed now, my anger still simmering beneath the surface.

“We’re here to speak with Taehyung,” Hoseok pleaded. “We have no intention of fighting with you or him. Namjoon needs to deliver a message.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but Taehyung’s voice cut through the din. 

“I’m fine, Bridd,” he said, his tone calm but wary. He stayed behind me, peering cautiously at the intruders. “What’s the word?”

“Don’t be angry with me, cousin,” Namjoon began, stepping forward.

I instinctively moved to defend Taehyung, taking up a protective stance. Namjoon halted, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender while Hoseok stood beside him, and Jimin remained still, his gaze fixed on me with an unreadable expression. If I was thinking clearly, I might understand his wary posture, but in my agitated state, it only stung.

“I have challenged you,” Namjoon said, and all thoughts of Jimin vanished.

“Quare?” Taehyung’s voice was thick with disbelief and hurt. “What have I ever done to you?”

Namjoon’s expression softened, but I readied myself to protect Taehyung at all costs. No one was going to harm him—not while I had breath in my body. Sol was my friend, and I wouldn’t let anyone, especially not someone like Ahn, destroy their lives. I knew Namjoon well enough to anticipate his attempts to play both sides for peace, a trait I despised.

“So no one else would,” Namjoon said, trying to convince Taehyung. “We’re trying to buy time to come up with a plan. I swear, I have no intention of fighting you.”

“Putasne me stultum esse?” Taehyung hissed, his body radiating heat. “You’re trying to take Sol from me!”

Namjoon’s face went pale. I felt a surge of pride for Taehyung, agreeing with his rage. Namjoon’s arrogance, coupled with his obsession with Sol, made it hard to believe that the challenge was solely for Taehyung’s benefit. The other two wolves’ skeptical expressions confirmed my doubts.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Taehyung,” Namjoon pleaded, his agitation growing. “I mean what I say, even if you’re too dense to understand it.”

Taehyung growled, and I had to steady my racing heart. I needed to shield him inside. Namjoon could leave, and I would be exposed to the sun if he chose to exploit that. Still, I held my defensive posture. Taehyung was done talking, and both Hoseok and Namjoon waited for his next move.

Suddenly, Shiloh burst out of the house with a loud screech. The chaos unfolded in a flash. Shiloh lunged at Namjoon, who transformed into a wolf mid-air. Taehyung’s massive frame surged forward, and before I could react, I was thrust into the sunlight. My face slammed against the front steps, and the sun’s rays seared my back. Pain shot through my ankle as metal cut into my skin.

My skin felt like it was on fire. Screams erupted uncontrollably from my throat as I struggled to focus on Shiloh. I saw her turning towards me just as a large, russet wolf nudged her aside. Hands grabbed me, pulling me back inside. My body trembled with pain, my vision filled with white as I screamed. All around me, voices clashed, but the pain consumed me.

“Quid irrumabo facimus?” Hoseok shouted.

“Nescio,” Taehyung’s voice sounded choked with tears.

My eyes rolled back, the agony overwhelming my senses. The ceiling came into view as I raised a trembling hand. Black feathers had pierced through my skin, and I cried out in fresh distress.

“Recedite ab ea!” someone screamed, but the words were indistinguishable.

“Licuitne futura est?”

Something was happening nearby, but all I could focus on was the searing fire inside me. I knew the pain would eventually subside, but I needed something to help ease it. My mouth opened to speak, but only screams escaped.

“It burns,” I managed to grunt through the convulsions.

Hands touched me, but my vision blurred. Sleep was impossible, and my body was in its worst state yet. Between the ceremony, the magic use, and the sun exposure, I’d be out of commission for a week—or more.

“Move,” Shiloh’s voice cut through the chaos.

Through my half-opened eyes, I saw not an owl but a radiant woman standing before me. Her fiery hair shimmered like it was underwater, and her skin glowed with a diamond-like brilliance. She looked like an ethereal vision, and I reached out to her. Her tears sparkled as she gently touched my hand.

“Slêpte,” she whispered, her fingers brushing my arm.

A wave of relief washed over me, and I sighed deeply. I closed my eyes, curling up next to Shiloh. Exhaustion hit me all at once, and I could hear growls and frantic voices, but they were far away. Someone was crying, but I was too tired to identify who it was.

“I’m going to put you to bed,” the woman whispered softly. “Where you belong.”

When I finally dragged myself back to consciousness, the smell of cooking food was like a beacon in a fog of confusion. I was back in my bed, with memories of the night before slipping through my fingers like sand. Shiloh had been there in her spirit form—so ethereal, so beautiful I imagined her future self would be just as mesmerizing. With a groan, I forced myself upright, my body protesting with every movement. No one would harm Taehyung while I still drew breath, and I clung to the hope that he was safe and sound somewhere in my house.

Stumbling into the kitchen, I grabbed the door frame for support. The stove was ablaze, a pot bubbling away on top, filling the room with the rich, smoky aroma of applewood. The kitchen sparkled, cleaner than it had ever been, as if someone had swept away not just dirt but the very chaos of my life. The scent of lemon mingled with the sharp tang of onions, a strange comfort in the midst of this turmoil.

“You should be in bed.”

The voice, coming out of nowhere, made me jump. I whipped around to find Jimin sprawled in my recliner, looking unusually somber. Taehyung stood by the fireplace, his gaze fixed on me with a mix of concern and something else I couldn’t quite place. Hoseok and Namjoon were absent, and my heart sank at the lack of familiar presence.

“Where’s Shiloh?” I demanded, stumbling forward and clutching the kitchen island.

Taehyung was at my side in an instant, his touch gentle but insistent. “Please, don’t push yourself, Bridd,” he said softly, guiding me to the small loveseat.

Jimin, ever the thoughtful one, draped a blanket over me as if I were a child. He must have been busy while I slept, rummaging through my things. Glancing at my hands, I saw the feathers had been replaced by jagged scars, a cruel reminder of the price I’d paid. My heart sank at the sight, a pang of sorrow tightening in my chest. Jimin’s hand covered mine, offering a silent comfort.

“She stepped out for a while,” Jimin said, his voice rough, like he’d been yelling. 

I remembered my anger towards him and Namjoon, but now it seemed distant, irrelevant. Seeing Jimin’s weary face, I knew he’d been affected deeply by the events. He was no longer the faceless alpha from my anger-fueled memories but someone I felt genuine empathy for. Taehyung’s presence, however, still rankled. Namjoon’s arrogance had hurt him deeply, and no matter his intentions, the challenge he issued had only made things worse.

“Is everyone alright?” I asked, trying to focus on the present.

Jimin shrugged, “Everyone but you. Namjoon and I had a disagreement before he left, but he’ll be fine.”

I scowled at Jimin. “I don’t like the idea of you fighting.”

Jimin’s grin was faint but reassuring. “Don’t worry, amica. I won.”

“Doesn’t change my feelings.” I grumbled, turning to look at Taehyung. His face was a mask of confusion, his eyes betraying an inner turmoil. The fleeting glances he shot between Jimin and me hinted at a struggle to make sense of it all. He winked at me, and I looked away, wondering if he’d caught onto my feelings.

Was it possible he had seen more than I intended? I knew Taehyung was perceptive, his mischievous nature hiding a sharp awareness. But right now, I was too exhausted to dwell on it. Jimin’s presence was a balm to my troubled mind.

“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to stay here until Taehyung decides what to do,” Jimin said, surprising me.

“What for?” I asked.

“I’m sorry for pushing you,” Taehyung interjected. “I didn’t realize you were so close, and I was overwhelmed.”

I shook my head, dismissing his apology. “It’s not your fault, Taehyung.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung scoffed. “You’re covered in scars because of my actions, and now my cousin is angry with all of us because of the fight. Hoseok said it’s best if we stay away from the village for a while. We can’t go back home.”

This news didn’t surprise me. I had no intention of letting Taehyung leave my cottage anytime soon, but Jimin’s exile was either a self-imposed punishment or Hoseok’s attempt to cool Namjoon’s temper. It made sense—challenging Taehyung was hardly a diplomatic move. 

Jimin suddenly produced a letter from his pocket, catching me off guard. “I found the letter your friend sent you.”

A spark of recognition flickered. “Wendy!” I exclaimed.

Jimin looked almost bashful, his discomfort evident. I tugged my arm free and hurried to my coat rack, desperate to retrieve the letter. But before I could make it, Taehyung’s arms encircled me.

“Taehyung, let me go,” I demanded, struggling against his hold.

“Sit. You’re hurt,” he pleaded, guiding me back to the sofa.

Frustrated, I bit his arm, causing him to yelp and release me. I landed on the floor with a thud, glaring up at him.

“This is ridiculous,” I complained. “You come into my home, rifle through my belongings, and now you won’t let me read my own letter? She’s my friend! If it’s important, I need to know.”

Jimin sighed, frustration etched into his features. “If you’d had a bit more patience, I could have handed it to you. It’s in my pocket.”

“If you’d just said that instead of staring at me like I’m an idiot—” I retorted, hobbling back to the sofa and grabbing the letter from his hands. “—I wouldn’t have gotten up.”

Jimin’s glare was sharp but silent. I settled into my spot, Taehyung’s weary gaze fixed on me. The need to apologize for my earlier actions was there, but I fought it. He had overstepped, and I had reacted. Still, the urge to make amends lingered.

The letter from Wendy was a balm to my troubled thoughts. Her words painted a picture of her own struggles, and as I read, my heart sank. She was thinking about not coming back hom after her sister’s wedding. She didn’t think Jin would take her back and that she had ruined his and Yoongi’s friendship. Shiloh must have gone to find her after reading the letter. I mentally thanked her and began to draft a reply.

Wendy, darling,

I’m relieved to hear from you. The events here in Bangtan have been tumultuous, and I’ve hardly had a moment to breathe. The ceremony has left me weary, and I hope you can help me unwind once you return. 

Forget the fools who have caused you distress. Remember the things that truly matter: your mother, the sisterhood, the coven, and the forest. No one else can tame a magindara or purify the sea like you. Don’t let trivial matters deter you from enjoying life. I’m thrilled about Nixie’s engagement and wish I could be there with her.

But life has charted a different course for both of us. I’m scared, Wendy—every day brings new fears—but I embrace it all, the sunshine, the flowers, the wind. As Aldara said, “Fear reminds us that we’re alive.” So, don’t give up just yet. Keep swimming and return home. Talk to Seokjin; he will understand. Yoongi holds no ill will. Release your fantasies and root yourself in reality.

We’ve all made mistakes, but we can mend our friendships if nothing else. If you truly wish to be with Jin, then go for it. He has long pursued you while you focused elsewhere. I want our circle whole again, with everyone finding their happiness. So go ahead. Even if I’m afraid, you need not be.

Missing you dearly,

B

I watched as the letter dried, my body easing into a more bearable state. With renewed energy, I rummaged for an envelope. Shiloh would usually handle sending things, but I was alone in this. Grabbing my ceremonial bag, I sifted through it until I found my meteor powder. Taking a deep breath, I began sketching Wendy’s face. My hand moved with practiced ease, though my heart pounded with anxiety. 

With a final incantation, I threw the powder onto the parchment. The paper vanished in an instant. I mumbled a hope that it reached her safely.

“That was so cool!” Taehyung’s voice broke my reverie.

I chuckled. “Not as cool as my own magic, but it will have to do. I can hardly feel anything in my body.”

Returning to the couch, I curled up beside Jimin. He looked worried, a sentiment I hadn’t expected from him. I had probably done more harm than good with my earlier actions, but for now, I would let it be. 

“She seemed upset,” Jimin said, his voice laced with concern. “I hadn’t realized your friends were involved in this way.”

I was taken aback by his empathy. “It’s been a thing since we were children. Don’t worry too much; she’ll come back, and they’ll figure it out.”

“Why aren’t they together now?” Taehyung asked.

“Because,” I sighed, “they don’t truly know what they want.”

Jimin served us a bowl of cabbage stew, plain but comforting. As I ate, I drifted into a restless sleep on the small couch, the unsettling dream I woke from fading as Jimin gently returned me to bed. I didn’t wake again until after sunset, finding solace in the quiet as the world outside continued its chaotic spin.

Taehyung was a surprising guest. He took care of the space, cleaned up after himself, and was generally a delight to have around. He was like a new breed of house guest, one who didn’t leave a trail of destruction in his wake. The supplies I had been sending to Foxglove had stopped—something Taehyung and Jimin didn't quite agree with, but that was their problem. They didn’t deserve my help if they were going to squander it. No one had come for anything lately, leading me to believe they were either boycotting my services or simply too intimidated by the presence of the wolves to make an appearance.

Wendy’s letter arrived the next morning, confirming she was on her way back. She’d even written to Jin, though I could only guess what she had said. Seokjin was notorious for spilling secrets, so I expected to hear all about it sooner or later.

I took a deep breath, opening my eyes to the sight of my altar. My magic had returned a few days ago, but I’d let it rest. Today was the first time I’d performed a ritual spell in days. I glanced over my shoulder, offering a soft smile to Jimin, who was napping on my sofa.

Our conversations since that night had been sparse, but Jimin was doing his best to help Taehyung devise a plan to win over the town. I thought it was a foolish endeavor, but I supported it nonetheless. Jimin’s reputation in the community was invaluable, and having him on Taehyung’s side significantly boosted his chances. I knew the pack missed both of them, and I hoped Namjoon would make an appearance soon. We had much to discuss, and I wanted to apologize for my loud outburst. No matter what anyone else said, I took much of the blame for that disastrous encounter.

“What’s a cah-dee-jo?” Taehyung’s voice cut through my thoughts, loud and inquisitive.

“A cadejo,” I corrected, rolling my eyes, “are spirits that guide worthy travelers.”

Taehyung raised an eyebrow. “And if they’re not worthy?”

“They’ll eat them,” I replied with an ease that bordered on nonchalance.

Taehyung had taken a keen interest in my books after discovering something I’d written about the magindara as a child. He devoured them so quickly that I found myself fetching more from the cellar just to keep up. Despite his naivety, Taehyung was a bright young man with an insatiable curiosity. He never settled for a single answer and listened with rapt attention.

“Why?” he asked.

“Why not?”

Taehyung fell silent, returning to his reading. I found myself growing fond of him, wishing he could go back home. The way his eyes lit up when he spoke of his siblings tugged at my heart. His parents must be in a constant state of worry.

After spending most of the morning sitting, I decided to make lunch. Shiloh was due back later that day. Wendy had mentioned that my familiar had arrived at her inn just before sending the letter, so I knew Shiloh was safe. Thinking about her stirred a mix of emotions in me. Exposing her spirit form was a dangerous risk, one I’d never have asked of her, but she had done it anyway.

I approached the kitchen window, whistling loudly as I began pulling out a pot and pan. Tomato soup seemed like the perfect choice, and I could whip up a quick loaf of bread to go with it. Moments later, Delinah appeared at my window. I glanced up from dicing onions, smiling at the deer.

“Morning, Dee,” I greeted.

She dipped her head. “Glad to see you up and about. You gave us all quite a scare.”

I hummed in response, tossing the onions into the pot along with three heads of garlic, some fresh herbs, and a splash of oil. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jimin stirring on the sofa.

“I’m as good as new,” I joked, using a spell to light the stove. “Would you mind fetching some tomatoes from Seokjin’s garden? I’d ask Shiloh, but she’s out of the forest for the day.”

“Where did she go?” Delinah asked, tugging the cloth tote from the windowsill with her mouth.

“Northorn,” I replied.

“Northorn? What’s so important in that dreadful place?”

I laughed, helping her secure the tote around her neck. Delinah nuzzled my hands, and I promised her carrots upon her return.

“To answer your question,” I said, returning to the counter, “Wendy’s trying to run away, so Shiloh’s bringing her back.”

Delinah laughed, “Oh, that Wendy Byrd. She’s a wild card, that one.”

“But we love her.”

Jimin got up as soon as Delinah left, and Taehyung remained engrossed in my book about magical beasts. I took over the task of roasting onions and garlic, letting them caramelize over the open flame. The tomatoes would soon follow. I could hear the two men conversing quietly, but I chose to ignore them. Privacy in this house was a rare luxury.

Delinah returned swiftly, and I sent her off with a bundle of carrots. After roasting the tomatoes, I used my pestle and mortar to blend everything into a smooth puree before adding it to the pot.

“Bridd,” Taehyung called out. “Can I get your opinion on something?”

I nodded. “Ask away.”

“I want to write a letter to Namjoon, but I’m unsure how he’d take it.”

I paused, contemplating. A letter might not help much. Ahn and his tricks made it unlikely that any letter would reach Namjoon. With people actively looking for him, showing his face might only stir up more trouble. Namjoon’s challenge was official, and only revoking it would end the conflict. I had faith in Taehyung’s ability to defend himself if necessary, though his reluctance to fight was apparent. Namjoon’s determination was formidable, but I doubted it would come to a lethal confrontation.

“I don’t think it would help much,” I said. “You know Ahn’s methods. A letter might not even get through.”

Taehyung sighed in defeat, and I felt a pang of sympathy. I understood his predicament all too well. I remembered Aldara’s lessons in defensive magic, though I had never been able to strike her. It wasn’t until that fateful night that I realized my potential for harm. I shuddered at the thought, wishing no one, especially Taehyung, had to face such a fate.

“I’m sorry it has to be this way,” I said, mixing the soup.

“Me too,” Taehyung replied.

We ate lunch in silence. Jimin was unusually quiet, his mind clearly occupied. Being away from his pack for three days must have been weighing on him. Wolves were creatures of family, and the silence must have been particularly hard for him.

Taehyung didn’t ask anything more after that. He spent the rest of the day sprawled on the floor by the fireplace, devouring book after book, while Jimin gazed out of the windows and scribbled in a journal. They stayed inside, avoiding the outdoors. I managed to complete a few chores, practice some new spells, and jot down notes in my grimoire. The atmosphere was stifling, and it wasn’t until Shiloh returned at sunset that the house stirred with activity.

In a flurry of feathers and screeches, the barn owl flew through my bedroom window, her voice echoing off the walls. I hastily threw my pen onto my grimoire, the black ink smearing across the pages in a ruinous streak. I didn’t care; Shiloh was back, and that was enough.

“Between those wolves and you witches,” she complained, “I’ll never catch a break.”

“Oh, Shiloh,” I cooed, opening my arms to her.

My familiar dove into my embrace, letting herself be fussed over. I petted her head, smoothing down her feathers. She leaned into my touches, and I couldn’t recall the last time I had smiled so broadly.

“You’re so strong and mighty, little one. I missed you dearly.”

She laughed, “I’m glad to see you up and moving again.”

“Where’s Wendy?” I asked, releasing her from my hug.

Shiloh flew into the kitchen, and I followed. She pecked at the leftover bread from lunch and took note of the wolves still lounging in the living room. She seemed pleased they were still there and gave a nod of approval to Taehyung. I chuckled at her antics.

“She’ll be back after her sister’s wedding.”

“Oh, wonderful!” I clapped my hands together in delight.

“Another pain in my ass,” Shiloh muttered.

And I laughed. I laughed and laughed and laughed.

Transformation was always an adjustment. Even now, after all this time, I still felt disoriented by the process. On Taehyung’s first night here, he nearly broke down my bedroom door in his panic to check on me. If Jimin hadn’t reassured him, I was sure Taehyung would have been deeply traumatized. Tonight was the fourth night, and Taehyung slept soundly through my night terrors. Shiloh had gone to bed early, leaving Jimin as the only one awake when I flew in through the kitchen window.

He wore the same clothes he had for days—something I had hand-washed twice but he refused to part with. I had made clothes for Taehyung, but Jimin’s

 rejection of them stung. I never brought it up again, simply washing and magically drying them. Tonight, Jimin had removed his usual long cape, his socks and shoes were missing, and his belt was nowhere to be seen. His hair fell loose, cascading to his waist, and a simple headband kept his bangs out of his eyes. He sat at the kitchen island, engrossed in whatever he was writing.

“Hello,” he greeted, offering a tired smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

He looked worn out, more so than usual, and Taehyung snored loudly on the floor, rolling over without a care. Jimin continued to scribble on the papers, unperturbed. I hopped closer and peered at the writing, recognizing the familiar scrawl.

It was the paper I had used during my visit a few weeks ago. Seeing it brought a wave of emotions, my heart swelling with affection. The fact that he had kept it, carried it around, left me breathless.

I’m feeling better.

Not if it’s something you like.

I love blueberries.

You did nothing wrong, Alpha. I promise.

“It brings me comfort,” Jimin whispered, his voice trembling in the dim moonlight. “Knowing that you’re out there.”

I turned toward him and saw the tears streaming down his face, illuminated by the pale, ethereal glow of the moon. For the first time since I’d known him, there was a clarity in my own heart. I fluttered my wings and landed softly in his lap, pressing my face against his stomach. The warmth within me radiated, and I could feel the tension in his body slowly dissolve.

He clutched me tightly, his sobs coming in ragged gasps. What sorrow gnawed at him, I wasn’t entirely sure, but it was clear it had something to do with the turmoil around us. I melted into his embrace, his openness a balm to my weary spirit. I found myself yearning for him to hold me as a lover would, but I pushed the thought aside. Greed felt like a bitter pill to swallow, especially when it came to the emotional exchange I saw before me.

“I don’t know what to do,” he whimpered, his voice breaking. “I understand them both, know that neither of them are happy with the way they left things, but I can’t do anything about it. I don’t want to leave Taehyung, but I don’t want to watch my friends tear each other apart over a misunderstanding.”

And oh, how angry I was with Namjoon, how much I wanted to slam him against a wall and scream until my lungs bled. But the truth was, I didn’t wish him dead. We were friends, after all, even if it was a strained, bloody friendship. The alpha allowed himself only two minutes of tears before he wiped his face and set me gently back on the island. He apologized profusely, his voice hoarse and filled with regret before he left the cottage, seeking the solace of the night.

I wanted to follow him, but I knew he needed his space. I glanced at the letter at my feet, feeling a shift in my resolve. What if a letter was considered offensive? They had beaten Taehyung senseless, exiled him, and made his family think he needed to be challenged to keep the pack in line. If a simple letter was the spark that ignited their fury, then I was ready to be the villain. I knew the chances of someone else intercepting Namjoon’s letter were high, but I had to try. I couldn’t bear to see Jimin’s tears again. 

Resolute, I gathered paper and ink, and began to write.

“Y/N,” Auntie whispered, her fingers tangling gently in my hair.

The sun was just a whisper on the horizon, the sky still a deep shade of purple. I struggled to pry my eyes open, moaning as I rubbed my face. Another yawn escaped me, my eyes fluttering shut once more.

Aldara chuckled softly, “Wake up, sleepyhead. Let’s make breakfast together.”

I shook my head, flipping over the pancake on the stove. In the dining room, Taehyung, Jimin, and the witches discussed the best fishing spots in Bangtan. Seokjin and Yoongi had dropped by unannounced, and while I was puzzled by their sudden visit, I assumed it had something to do with Wendy. Jin looked surprised by the presence of the wolves and asked to speak with me privately once breakfast was over. I heard Taehyung questioning whether vegan pancakes could taste good, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

I had adopted a vegetarian diet after Aldara passed. With the inability to leave my home, meat became a distant memory. Four years ago, after growing closer with the critters around me, I’d eliminated animal products entirely. It felt wrong to consume a creature I could have known.

“They’re not that different from ‘normal’ ones,” I explained, plating the fresh pancake. “I just use oat flour, bananas, and flaxseeds mixed with water. Everything else is the same.”

I could imagine Taehyung’s disgusted face, though it was hidden from view. His expressions of confusion, disgust, and anger were all shades of the same emotion. Yoongi laughed, and it brought a smile to my face. Yoongi and I shared similar lifestyle choices, though he indulged in fish with Seokjin from time to time.

“Why mix flaxseeds and water?” Taehyung asked, his bewilderment dripping from every word.

I handed him a plate, “It replaces the egg. You mix it with the banana and let it sit to thicken. A boy named Enver taught me. He lives in Moland and doesn’t have regular market access.”

Jimin’s curiosity perked up, “How do you get your supplies?”

“I go often,” Seokjin answered. “I always pick up things for Yoongi and Y/N when I go. Yoongi does the same.”

I nodded, “I have great friends.”

After breakfast, Yoongi invited Taehyung and Jimin for a walk in the forest. Taehyung’s newfound fascination with the local beings had piqued Yoongi’s interest, and he offered to show him a jackalope borough nearby. Jimin chose to join them to keep an eye on Taehyung. I could tell he was giving Seokjin and me the space to talk. As they left, I began clearing the dishes with Jin’s help.

We worked in silence, the rhythm of our tasks speaking volumes. Jin’s hesitation was palpable, a strange thing for someone so usually forthright. His mouth opened and closed as if he was trying to find the right words, but I remained patient. Wendy had a knack for throwing him off balance, and it was evident in his struggle to articulate his thoughts. 

Once the dishes were done, I wiped down the table and put away the toppings. Jin lingered, focusing on the dishes while I finished. Finally, he spoke, breaking the silence.

“Wendy wrote to me,” he said quietly.

I hummed, not quite ready to delve into the contents of her letter. Privacy was paramount, and I kept many things to myself. We were all too intertwined, and Wendy’s tendency to overshare made things complicated. Seokjin’s habit of spilling secrets didn’t help either. 

“She said she wants to be with me,” he continued.

I sighed, “How do you feel about that?”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking lost. “It’s… complicated.”

I perched on the kitchen island, nodding, “I’m sure I can keep up.”

“For as long as I’ve known her, I’ve liked her in some way,” Jin said, his voice tinged with regret. “She’s never really felt the same about me, at least not as much as I liked her.”

Wendy had always looked away, said one thing and done another, never fully opening her heart to Jin. She admitted liking him, but her gaze often wandered to Yoongi. Initially, I thought Seokjin was reading too much into it, but the pattern was clear. Wendy’s infatuation with Yoongi had always overshadowed her relationships with others, including Jin. 

“I knew she meant it when she said she liked me,” he said. “But how can I be sure she’s serious this time? She’s been away, hasn’t seen anyone in months, and now she says she’s in love with me. What happens when she sees Yoongi again? Will her feelings still hold?”

I felt a pang of sympathy for Seokjin. His heart was true, but his seclusion had left him vulnerable. The world outside Bangtan was vast and filled with possibilities. Telling him there were other options wouldn’t help, though. 

“I don’t want to get hurt again,” he whispered.

“I know,” I replied, holding him gently. “I wouldn’t want that either.”

“How can I trust her words?”

I shook my head, “I’ve always seen you two as stubborn. You care deeply, but the toxicity is unbearable. If you want to try, see what happens. Maybe her time away or seeing her sister’s wedding changed her. Think about what she said and how it resonates with your own feelings.”

“She said she loves me,” he murmured, a hint of relief in his voice. “She said that after talking to you, she felt more confident to speak to me. It was the first time I felt her apology was genuine.”

Silence enveloped us as Seokjin looked down, deep in thought. After a moment, he asked to borrow paper and a pen. I obliged, hoping for a resolution that would bring him some peace. 

He sent off his letter soon after. I resumed sweeping and planning the day, knowing I had to address the supply chain blockage to the sea coven. With Shiloh still recovering from her trip, I would need to wake her for the delivery. Seokjin agreed to write to Cordelia to see if anyone could pick up the supplies. 

In the rare moment of quiet, I could sense Seokjin’s anxiety. I feared the worst but gave him the space he needed. When he finally spoke, his voice cracked.

“I rejected her,” he said.

“Oh, Jinnie,” I cooed, embracing him. “That was a hard choice, but I’m proud of you. You did what was right for yourself.”

“I can’t do it again,” he sobbed. “I just can’t.”

I understood his pain. Wendy’s emotions would simmer, and I’d deal with her later. Seokjin had alluded to remaining friends, but I knew it was a fragile hope. The past had carved deep scars, and I wasn’t naïve enough to believe things could return to how they once were. Still, I hoped for growth and reconciliation, even if it seemed unlikely. 

“I know. I know,” I whispered, soothing him. “We’ll get through this.”

Seokjin clung to me, crying as if his heart would break.

For the next three days, Jimin and Taehyung began to drift further from the confines of the house, venturing into the outside world with an almost frantic urgency. I hadn't heard a word from Wendy or Seokjin, but Yoongi made sure to check in daily. He was obsessed with the idea that I might be facing another unexpected encounter with the wolves, a notion I couldn't entirely dismiss but was resolutely prepared for. It felt as if Hoseok was staying clear to maintain some uneasy peace, though Jimin hinted that he was trying to sway Namjoon. So far, that attempt had fizzled, with Namjoon remaining as grumpy and resentful as ever. Taehyung, on the other hand, was steeling himself for a potential clash, spending his evenings in intense sparring sessions with Jimin.

Shiloh's waking hours had been creeping earlier each day. It wasn't the ungodly hours I was accustomed to, but noon was a far cry from eleven at night. Taehyung and Jimin were still grappling with my late risings. My magic, potent yet taxing, was stretching my limits, and I could sense my body struggling to keep up. My childhood had taught me that magic was a draining force, especially defensive spells. The incident with Namjoon had thrown me off balance, making it difficult to regain my footing.

Aldara used to fret over my fainting spells after our lessons. She said it was unnatural for a witch to be so overwhelmed by their own power, but over the years, I’d come to understand that my magic was an endless well, ever-flowing and never entirely under my control. Unlike other witches, who could regulate their magic output, I was left perpetually vulnerable and weakened. The constant possession and lack of control were the harsh trade-offs of my power. Still, a small outburst no longer left me as depleted as it once did. The last time I’d fainted from magic was the night I discovered the cottage on fire.

As I thumbed through my grimoire, searching for the potion I’d made to reduce anxiety, frustration gnawed at me. Wendy was due back tomorrow, and Cordelia had asked if I could send some to Syrena. I’d only brewed this particular potion twice, and it was still too fresh in my memory for me to recall the exact details. Wendy’s luck would have it that I’d send a shifting potion instead of a mood stabilizer, but I trusted Griselda’s recipe.

My worry for Wendy was growing. Though it was normal to go weeks without communication, I feared she might be upset over the situation with Jin. She must have suspected we’d talked and perhaps thought I’d instructed him on what to do. Or worse, she might have convinced herself that Yoongi had something to do with it. Wendy had a tendency to skew reality, and while I empathized with her, I refused to choose sides between my friends. I loved and respected them both and wished desperately to extricate myself from this web of conflict. After all, Wendy was the one who’d divulged our conversation to Jin in the first place.

My search for the potion left me exasperated. The cluttered chaos of my notes and haphazard scrawl made me wish for a clean slate. Whoever would inherit this mess of a grimoire would need a Rosetta Stone just to decipher half of it. In frustration, I slammed the book shut and decided to write to Enver. He was the only witch I knew who might have such a potion on hand. Rolling the paper carefully, I chanted a spell I’d learned from Pippa’s grimoire and watched as the paper turned to ash and vanished.

Pippa was a true oddball, her methods unorthodox to the point of absurdity. Her spellbooks, filled with incomprehensible diagrams and bizarre ingredients, were a testament to her brilliance. Aldara had always teased me about my fascination with Pippa, calling me the next “nutcase” and mocking my own disorganized grimoire. Still, no one could deny Pippa’s talent. The spell I’d used was a favorite of mine—simple, minimal energy expenditure, and highly effective. I was grateful to be done with meteor powder, even if I had invented that one myself.

The front door slammed open, jolting me upright and sending my heart into a racing frenzy. For a split second, my vision swam in black and white, but I quickly regained my composure. I shot a venomous glare at Taehyung as he swaggered into the cottage, followed closely by Jimin, who offered a sheepish bow before entering.

“It’s such a beautiful day!” Taehyung announced, flopping onto the couch with a dramatic flourish.

My eye twitched.

“Try that again,” I said with icy detachment.

Taehyung’s confusion was palpable. Jimin stood in the doorway, an amused smirk playing on his lips. He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, his gaze lingering on me. I struggled to keep my eyes from lingering on his toned back and refocused on Taehyung.

“Try what again?” Taehyung asked, genuinely bewildered.

“Walking into my house like a civilized person,” I retorted. “You act as if you’ve never been taught manners. First, you put your filthy, muddy boots on my counter, and now this? Thin ice, Tae. Thin ice.”

Taehyung scratched his head sheepishly and made the necessary adjustments, gently opening and closing the door. Satisfied, I hummed and returned to my grimoire, mentally cursing the disorganized mess it had become. I longed to slap the younger version of myself who had thought this system would work. Groaning, I stood up and decided to relocate my work to the cellar.

“What are you looking for?” Taehyung asked, his face lighting up with curiosity.

The wolf enjoyed accompanying me and peering over my shoulder, even if he barely understood the Latin script. Jimin hadn’t asked to join but I suspected his silence was his way of being considerate. I wished he would just speak up.

“I need to find a spell for a friend,” I said. “One I wrote when I was twelve. It’s hardly legible now, a testament to my childish carelessness.”

Taehyung laughed and followed me without hesitation. His curiosity was endearing, a stark contrast to Jimin’s restrained demeanor. I wondered about their own childhoods—Jimin had been brave and reserved when we first met, his innocence a distant memory now. Seeing him again, after all these years, was like rediscovering a forgotten chapter of my own life.

“May I join you?”

I paused and looked up at Jimin, who had already begun descending the stairs behind Taehyung. I nodded. The connection we had shared the other night was still fresh, unspoken but undeniable. Jimin’s presence felt like a gentle thawing of the ice that had previously encased him.

After lighting the sconces in the cellar, I found Taehyung curled up in a corner, absorbed in one of Aldara’s monster books. She had been a legend in her own right— the first to defeat a Quietus, the monster slayer of yore. Her stories had become folklore, tales of bravery and struggle. The book Taehyung was engrossed in was one of her own, a collection of short stories about her adventures.

“It’s bigger than I thought,” Jimin whispered.

“It grows whenever we need a new bookcase,” I replied.

Jimin didn’t press for more details, his restraint a byproduct of the alpha etiquette he’d been taught. Taehyung, however, was a novice in those lessons, having barely started them before his exile. I sighed, thinking of Namjoon and my unanswered letter.

“Who was the first Bridd?” Jimin asked.

I smiled as I recalled the tale. “Her name was Rosette.”

“How did this family tradition even start?” Taehyung asked, his voice tinged with genuine curiosity.

Settling into my small desk, I gestured for them to sit. I remembered Aldara’s stories vividly, her hands large and comforting as she spoke of Rosette, the legendary Bridd. Rosette was a figure of beauty and resilience, her story a foundation for our lineage.

“Rosette came from the Foxglove Village, a place once teeming with shifters. She was the daughter of a merchant, loved and admired by all. Life was harsh in Bangtan, but relatively peaceful until the Quietus stories began spreading south.”

Quietus, those ancient air elementals, were the first settlers of Lustra, driven out by the Sarkans over a millennium ago. The attack on Bangtan was retribution for not aiding them, though they had soon reclaimed their territory.

“After the Century War with Etelin, the Quietus were reduced to living in swamps, their numbers dwindling. The few that ventured into the forest were either vengeful survivors or driven mad by starvation.”

Jimin’s expression showed recognition, while Taehyung remained enraptured. I continued, my voice carrying the weight of history.

“These creatures were unknown to the shifters, whose people had only arrived in Lustra after their island was destroyed. Their treaties were new, their numbers sparse. They had no knowledge of the siege until their village was ablaze.”

“The Quietus queen, Nerezza, had lost her youngest child to the Sarkan invasion. Her grief drove her to attack, wrongly believing the Reikans were complicit. In truth, the Reikans were skittish, lacking the courage for true conflict.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” Taehyung interrupted, defensive of his ancestors.

“Yes,” I said, “your ancestors were strong, surviving the loss of their homeland and finding refuge here. But the Reikans were different, their settlers blending into your cultures, while the Quietus were formidable. Only one emerged as significant.”

“Rosette,” Jimin murmured.

“Yes, Rosette. A beautiful girl, her blonde hair and green eyes striking. She was a bird shifter in love with a fox. At just sixteen, she and a few others escaped the village’s destruction. Rosette, familiar with military strategies, directed them to safety.”

“She found herself in this very clearing, calling to the gods for aid. Despite the blizzard, she was enveloped in warmth. The gods offered her help in exchange for a solemn promise. She vowed to protect her sister’s life and, in return, her bloodline would become guardians of the forest.”

“And that’s when we lost our freedom,” I continued. “She woke up in this cottage, chained and imbued with new magic. After a century of solitude, she was given Jordana. We’re assigned a pupil and have sixteen years to train them before our transition to the spirit world.”

“Why can’t you shift freely, then?” Taehyung asked, curiosity piqued. Jimin smacked his arm, but I waved off the gesture.

No harm in asking.

“Our transformations are tied to the cycles of the sun and moon. The gods have a special fondness for watching us dance across the skies, like wayward comets caught in their eternal dance. We’re fortunate we managed to keep that part of ourselves as part of the bargain. Magic and shifting? They’re practically myths beyond these woods.”

Taehyung’s eyes glinted with curiosity. “Is it the same for real werewolves? The sun and moon stuff?”

I let out a laugh, sharp and dismissive. “No, silly. Werewolves are shackled to the full moon. Their first transformation turns them into mindless beasts. They’re as good as dead within three months. Nothing like what you and I are.”

Taehyung seemed mollified by this explanation. He often referred to himself as a werewolf, much to Jimin’s annoyance. I understood why Jimin would bristle at that. Real werewolves were born into their condition, their bloodlines ancient and unbroken. Werewolves, on the other hand, were made, not born, and their kind was dwindling in the Ozryn Mountains, starved out and hunted down. The last outbreak had been decades ago, swiftly contained by the dwarves of Idris.

When the story ended, Taehyung returned to his reverie with Aldara’s book, and I resumed my fruitless search for that infuriating potion. I hadn’t heard back from Enver; his response times were always abysmal.

Jimin wandered the cellar, tracing the spines of the books. The sheer volume was staggering. Aldara had penned over forty grimoires in her lifetime, each a testament to her expertise in defensive magic. Rosette had authored 120, Jordana had 205, and Griselda held the record with 223. I could hardly fathom such productivity. I’d managed only three grimoires so far, and was plodding along on a fourth. My youthful exuberance for magic seemed a distant memory now, replaced by a more somber approach. Overwhelmed by self-doubt, I decided to take a break.

“Your aunt was pretty amazing,” Taehyung remarked.

“Yeah, she was,” I replied, the word "was" hanging in the air like a specter.

As the evening darkened, we had spent hours in the cellar. Jimin skimmed through books with the quiet diligence of a scholar, while Taehyung absorbed stories from Aldara’s collection. I flipped through Pippa’s spell books, making small talk with Taehyung. His constant chatter was a refreshing distraction from the oppressive silence of the house.

Taehyung had gone up for a nap over an hour ago, leaving Jimin and me alone. He was huddled over a book, his brow furrowed in concentration, his tongue sticking out slightly. I couldn’t help but steal glances at him, though he remained silent about my furtive glances. It was a rare sight to see him so relaxed, so unguarded. Shiloh had mentioned she was visiting Morla to update her on Wendy’s situation. Mumbling to myself, I let the pen and ink I’d brought down write in my spell book. Sometimes it was easier to let magic handle the tedious parts.

Amid the grimoires and dusty tomes, I made notes of potential experiments. They might not be as thrilling as Pippa’s wild concoctions or as direct as Griselda’s precise spells, but they were my own. I was rediscovering the joy of magic, a pleasure Aldara would have appreciated.

“Bridd?” Jimin’s voice broke the silence, soft and inviting.

I looked up, noticing how his hair caught the candlelight, turning dark gray with stray wisps floating around. I wanted to smooth them down, but restrained myself. Jimin’s expression was a carefully maintained mask, a necessity for someone in his position. Yet, I glimpsed a fleeting smile, a rare crack in his stoic facade.

“Why don’t you have anything here?” he asked.

“Everything I own is upstairs,” I answered. “It’s too much trouble to haul it all down here every time I need to work.”

He chuckled. “So, you do have a diary?”

I flushed. “All of us do. It’s the best way to keep track for our successors.”

I wouldn’t let him read mine. It was filled with thoughts I’d long preferred to forget. During my more turbulent years, I’d penned five separate volumes of angst and sorrow. The idea of anyone reading them—especially Jimin—was mortifying. They were raw, unfiltered, a record of my darkest fears and desires. Thankfully, they had gone unnoticed until now.

“Yours must be very interesting,” Jimin mused.

I shook my head. “Not really. Mostly just teenage angst. Nothing worth reading.”

I tried to sound convincing, but Jimin’s probing gaze made me uneasy. I began tidying up, stacking grimoires, knowing it was nearing sunset. I needed to get back to my room soon.

As I turned, Jimin’s arms encircled my waist, surprising me. My heart leaped into my throat. He was so close I could count the freckles on his nose, see the length of his eyelashes, feel his warm, heavy scent envelop me. His proximity was overwhelming. I gripped the desk, struggling to speak.

“Jimin?” I managed, my voice trembling.

“Can I tell you something?” he whispered, his breath warm against my ear.

Our bodies pressed together, his hands behind my back, though his grip remained on the table. I glanced at his hands, one resting on the other. Shaking with nervous energy, I forced myself to meet his gaze.

“Can I?” His eyes were as dark and intense as a stormy night.

A shiver crawled up my spine. I nodded, breath catching in my throat. Jimin’s smile was tender, almost ethereal.

“I enjoy your company.”

I could only manage another nod, my heart pounding, my throat dry. Jimin’s face inched closer to mine. I held my breath, searching for meaning in his eyes. This was not the man who had been absorbed in reading moments before. This was something different, something potent and unsettling.

“I like being close to you. Is that alright?”

“Yes,” I whispered, barely audible.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his breath barely brushing my lips.

I knew I should have resisted, should have acknowledged the impossibility of our situation. Our lives were too tangled, our paths too divergent. He had a mate somewhere, and he’d forget me soon. Yet, despite all that, I shook my head.

“No.”

The kiss was unlike anything I’d ever known. Jimin’s lips were warm and insistent, igniting a fire within me. The heat was searing, electrifying, igniting every nerve ending. I clung to him, his embrace all-consuming. Everything I had feared, everything I had regretted, melted away. It didn’t matter anymore. Jimin was here, and he was mine.

When he finally pulled away, his gaze was soft, full of warmth and care. He nuzzled into my hairline, his touch a balm against the chaos. 

“Thank you,” he whispered.

I was dazed but managed to nod. As if drawn by an invisible force, I sought his lips again. Jimin’s hands cradled my face, pulling me closer. Any gentleness evaporated when my tongue brushed his bottom lip. A low growl rumbled from him as he hungrily explored my mouth. His grip tightened, his leg gently prying mine apart, lifting me onto the desk. My fingers dug into his shirt.

A sudden chill shot through me, yanking me out of the haze of passion. I pulled away, and Jimin stepped back, understanding dawning in his eyes. I choked out a “go” and stood up from the desk. The first feather burst through my skin as Jimin fled the cellar, leaving me alone with my searing heart and the cold void of my own fear.

Translations:

Swîgian âstillian. - Be quiet.

Hwæt−hwugu ðrîstian êow? - How dare you?

Sê ðafian êower m¯ægð teohhian êower weorðfulnes? - Who do you people think you are?

Yfel am sorig. - I am so sorry.

Thither is êower hygd? - Where is your mind?

Belāda mē - Sorry.

Quare? - Why?

Putasne me stultum esse? - Do you think I'm stupid?

Sol a me auferre conaris! - You are trying to take Sol from me!

Quid irrumabo facimus? - What the fuck do we do?

Nescio. - I don’t know.

Recedite ab ea! - Get away from her!

Licuitne futura est? - Is she going to be alright?

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

© chimcess, 2023. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[magini0]

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. 

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." 

[soft-bellied-tannies]

The Magic of Modeling

How is it already the second to last day of Chubtober!? I can’t believe it’s almost over.

Today’s prompt is Enchanted from fatguarddog’s list and there is a little cameo from my favorite gal.

Read here or on AO3!

—-

Taehyung wasn’t even sure how it was brought up. They were all talking about Jimin’s latest fashion show and then somehow, they were talking about Taehyung’s modeling ability.

While he was incredibly handsome and his partners never failed to tell him that, Taehyung knew he was not the model type.

He had been chubby his entire life and he really enjoyed that about himself. Taehyung loved food, loved his soft belly, and loved his wide thighs. He was the perfect cuddler and his lap was the best seat for his partners.

Taehyung knew it was partially a lie as he said it, but it didn’t stop him from setting up what eventually would become a months long endeavor.

“I could definitely model.”

His partners seemed to fall silent, figuring out how to respond to him lightly until Yoongi took the burden on himself.

“Tae, you know I’m saying this with all my love and respect for you with no judgment, but we both know that’s not really true. The industry sucks and you would have to lose weight to be taken seriously.”

Taehyung knew Yoongi was right, unfortunate as the truth was, but he also didn’t want that to stop him. It somehow became a challenge for himself - a fixation to figure out how he could pull it off.

He didn’t feel that he needed to prove them wrong necessarily because they loved and supported him, enjoying his body and hyping up his look, but it almost was like proving the industry as a whole wrong. An unknown sleight of his own hand.

It started with a lot of research for Taehyung to figure out how he could be chubby…maybe fat if he were to be honest with himself and enter the modeling world.

That is when Taehyung remembered Hwasa, the granddaughter of his grandmother’s best friend.

They had been childhood friends and he trusted her to come up with a solution considering that she descended from a long line of witches.

Taehyung certainly wasn’t going to attempt losing the weight first because he would never give into the toxic industry and he honestly just didn’t have the willpower to do it.

After looking up types of charms and spells, Taehyung found a variation on a Cinderella-esque magical effect that could allow him to have the best of both worlds.

It would allow Taehyung’s true form to be as fat and happy as he wanted while also shifting into the “ideal” frame for male modeling.

He could maintain the perfect model image during certain hours of the day before returning home to indulge in his favorite meals and couch cuddles.

After meeting up at Hwasa’s shop and explaining his findings, she looked at him with a mix of amusement and disbelief.

“You’re serious about this?”

“Of course, I told you, I need to make this point. I have to prove them wrong.”

“But they aren’t discouraging you, it’s just realistic.”

“Fine, then I need to prove the industry wrong.”

“By finding a loophole to still have the body type they require and no one knowing.”

“I will know! That’s the point!”

“God, you are so dumb…”

“So, you’re not going to do it?”

“What? Of course I’m going to do it, sit down.”

In a matter of hours, Taehyung was looking a completely different version of himself in the mirror. He couldn’t remember a time that his jaw had such a sharp line or ever having definition on his abdomen.

Honestly, Taehyung hated it. It felt and looked wrong, like everything that made him Taehyung was gone - way too small and cold.

“Man, you look hot as hell, models should consider themselves lucky that you love food so much, but it also just looks so off. You sure about this?”

Hwasa’s voice startled Taehyung and he nodded. He couldn’t agree more that it was not the look for him, however, he knew that he could easily sell the model look long enough to make his point.

“Yeah, I just need to do this until I can book a project and then be done with it.”

“Let me help with that. I’ve got some contacts in the industry. You aren’t the only one who uses magic to cut corners.”

Taehyung managed to hide his little secret from his partners, not utilizing Hwasa’s perfect charm until she sent him the details for a shoot.

Showing up to the set gave him a lot of insight to Jin and Jimin’s experiences, Taehyung making a mental note to check in on them both considering how uptight and brutally honest everyone was.

He truly had a terrible time and was happy that he hadn’t changed his life and body to work toward this. Although, he did accept a few more shoots since Hwasa went through so much to help him.

However, Taehyung did draw the line at a certain point.

“Maybe we can get you a partner shoot with someone. One last project because we call it.”

“Woah, I’m trying to prove myself, not get in trouble. No partners besides my own.”

“I don’t understand you, Tae, but somehow, I respect you.”

What Hwasa didn’t tell him was that she did find him a partner shoot that did follow his rules.

When Taehyung showed up the following week on set looking trim and toned, the last person he expected to see was Park Jimin.

It took everything for him not to run in the other direction, wanting his plan to be a big reveal once his photos were published.

Jimin turns to greet his model counterpart, eyes widening as he immediately recognizes a version of his partner that he’s never seen before.

“T-Tae…”

“Minnie, I can explain.”

“You better fucking explain! What did you do to yourself? Did you hurt yourself? Why-“

“Jimin-ah, please, let’s talk in private.”

After explaining his entire plan and the fact that it wasn’t permanent, Taehyung saw the relief form on Jimin’s face.

Showering him in kisses and gentle touches, Jimin explained how scared he was that Taehyung did something dangerous and how happy he was to know that his soft and warm Tae was still underneath the magic.

They did the shoot together perfectly, chemistry and intimacy flowing naturally between loving partners.

Jimin stole a few shots from his team to take home as proof, changing his tune as soon as they were in the car together.

Taehyung knew he was in for it based on Jimin’s adamance that he told the entire story to their partners that night.

He could barely get the words out before the scolding began, telling him it was a reckless decision for such a silly reason.

Also, Namjoon and Hoseok both lectured him, frustrated and concerned that he would look elsewhere for magic knowing that he had two perfectly capable magic users in the house.

Taehyung reasoned that it would ruin the surprise and used his photos with Jimin as proof, finding that the impressive shots silenced his berating partners who could see the appeal.

What Taehyung had not expected was for his popularity as a model to take off. His shoot with Jimin went viral and he was getting offers for more and more work.

Tae tried so hard not to be smug about it because he knows he's hot shit and in his mind, this was proving to everyone that he could have both - being fat and a top model.

Part of him was discouraged that he couldn’t just be himself though. The only reason he was not on the front page of Vogue as his true self was because the industry decisions makers were cowards.

With Jimin becoming his never ending hypeman, complimenting his modeling but never shutting about how hot he was at his actual size, Taehyung found it easier to continue.

He introduced Namjoon, Hoseok, and Hwasa who were able to maintain his secret charm, allowing him to have the best of both worlds throughout his career.

His partners would admit to having a weird satisfaction watching him grow to his normal size as Taehyung was completely transparent with them on his arrangement now.

However, they weren’t the only ones who couldn’t keep their eyes off Taehyung. He became an enigma of the modeling industry.

The man landing covers and centerfolds with Park Jimin and Kim Seokjin on his arms that also had a cheeseburger and a milkshake for lunch on set while the other models ate their salads and drank their green juice.

Taehyung never told anyone aside from his loving partners and closest friend ever learned of his perfectly enchanted weight - the key to his happiness and success.

And maybe his happiness grew a little more knowing that Taehyung had convinced Jin and Jimin to loosen up and relax, maybe sharing the love of his little charm and big appetite with his partners over the years.

No one had to know that the most successful trio of models in Korea looked much softer behind closed doors.

[writersrealmbts]

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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[honey-boyyoongi]

Pairing ➪ Yoonji x Y/n | Jimin x Y/n | Yoonji x Jimin x Seokjin

Word count ➪ 6k Words

Warnings ➪ cursing through out; authors horrible attempt at humor; mentions of blood; mentions of anxiety attack; description of an anxiety attack;

Summary ➪ Y/n needs a place to stay as of yesterday. Her roommate bailed on her, she’s too far from her grandmother, and her boyfriend lives in a box with his best friend. The place she seems to find has everything; space, low rent, a short commute to her job, and seemingly nice roommates. But there are some things that are kinda weird. Like how her female roommate is up at all hours, and her male roommate mumbling about his plants yelling at him in the middle of the night. She can get through this, right?

A/n: Heyyyyyyyyyyy. Damn it took me months to update this one huh. Sorry for being so quiet lately, I’ll update my Yoongi au soon. I hope yall enjoy this update. As always feedback is appreciated and if you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know 💕

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Yoonji runs towards the front door; Seokjin’s eyes are wild and dilated, his usually pristine white blouse is stained deep red. His mouth is covered in blood, his cheeks stained with tears and dirt. His usually styled hair is messy and unkempt. “Oh, my god, Jinnie what happened,” she pleads, “Who did this? Was it Choi? I swear to the gods I will drag him out in the sun myself if he-,’ Yoonji stops when she looks over Seokjin’s shoulder, “Jin, what the fuck did you do?”

Seokjin shudders, “I didn’t mean to, I was- fuck. I haven’t fed since I gave you blood. The council refused to let me into the donor wing, even though it's my side of the Kim clan that created it in the first place. To punish my gluttony they said. I asked Jaeyoung for bags, but he never got back to me. I was walking home, taking my way through the park. I smelled blood, coming from the bushes. I thought it was an animal, but the smell got stronger and sweeter, it was fresh human blood. I couldn’t help it, Yoonie. I’m sorry.” Seokjin struggled to hold in his sob. Yoonji needed to figure out a plan and fast, but it seemed the universe had other plans. 

Yoonji turned at the gasps that echoed in between Seokjin’s harsh breaths. Y/n stood wide eyed, frightened. She knew.

-

“Oh, shit,” Yoonji mumbled. “Y/n.. I need you to breathe slowly. Please.” The older woman walked slowly towards her younger roommate, hoping that she didn't do anything irrational. 

Y/n evades her, running towards Seokjin, “Holy shit, Jin, what happened?” 

Seokjin sobbed harder into the tile, struggling to find his voice, “I-fuck! I..I was walking..and.” Yoonji could feel her friend’s desperation, she rubbed Jin’s back in an attempt to soothe him.  “I didn’t know.. I swear I didn’t, kitty.” 

Y/n stopped in front of Jin, taking in the chaos that he had brought with him. “Fuck, “she grumbled. She joined Jin on the floor, scanning him for any potentially fatal wounds, “Jin, were you stabbed? Shot? You’re covered in blood, fuck.” Seokjin stared at her, shocked that she would get so close. Their roommate scooted closer to a still Jin, Yoonji watched, frozen. She didn’t want to scare Y/n by trying to pull her away, but she also doesn’t know in what state of mind her best friend would be. There was a large chance Seokin could attack her, if he saw her as a threat. 

“Jimin,” Yoonji hissed, “Jimin, hurry, Y/n is getting too close to Jinnie.” 

Jimin cursed, he hurried from his pantry with their first aid kit, “I’m trying, I have delicate jars in this thing.” 

Yoonji could see Seokjin’s figure tense, his pupils were dilating with every centimeter Y/n crawled closer. “Jimin, please,” she begged. With the wave of a finger and a grunted curse, Y/n fell to her side, they were able to narrowly avoid another incident in their home. The elder was able to catch her roommate, preventing any injuries. 

Jimin anxiously made his way towards Seokjin, “Yoon, take her to her room. The spell I used should keep her asleep for a while, let's hope she doesn't have to work a shift tomorrow. We can’t have more people involved.” He carefully lays the aid kit on the ground, hastily trying to find what he needs. 

Yoonji takes Y/n into her arms, working fast to get her out of the upside down living room. Once Yoonji settled their sleeping roommate on her bed, she skimmed for any bumps or bruises. The female vampire released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, nothing seemed bruised or in need of attention, thankfully one less thing to worry about tonight. 

-

Yoonji finds her roommates, and a stranger, still stationed in their living room. Seokjin was lying on the couch, his blood-soiled shirt on the floor next to him, dried blood in sporadic places, sweat glistening on his brow. Jimin had finished checking over Seokjin, deeming him free of any detrimental injuries. He was happy to confirm his friend was healthy, but there was still the matter of the man on the carpet. He was tall, and had dark hair. Yoonji was sure he was tan, but the lack of blood is causing him to look sickly. The man was wearing a dark blue matching t-shirt and pants set, with detailing on the hems. 

She makes her way to the middle of the room to help Min out. The elder looks around trying to find something to clean up the dirt and blood stuck on her best friend. Yoonji spots and picks the wet wipes Jimin stashes in their first aid kit. While she hastily wipes down every visible stain of blood, Seokjin doesn't move. He’s silent, attempting to control his breathing. 

“Jinnie what happened, “she whispered. Jin grumbled, slightly shaking his head, “Mmph.. kitty… I’m tired.” 

“I gave him a sedative,” Jimin said, “It’s catered to vampires, so he’ll sleep for a couple of hours.”

“Was that necessary, “Yoonji asks worriedly.

“He was bordering on a feral state; he hadn't been feeding. The overwhelming emotions of fear, guilt, confusion and panic were pushing him to a frenzy,”  he answered. “The last thing he needed was to go into a frenzy, hurt anyone else, and turn feral from the grief. Along with a sedative, I gave him something to keep him settled emotionally after he wakes up. Hopefully his body doesn’t purge it.” Jimin organized the items back into his kit tensely, “Please take the man on the carpet to my work room. I still need to treat him, plus, the smell of blood could set off Jin.” Jimin urgently rose from the floor, speed walking deeper into the house.

Yoonji finished the last of her clean up of Seokjin. Her stomach was less twisted seeing her longest friend safe. She fixed his hair back into place, and makes sure he’s comfortable for his rest. 

-

Jimin was fixing a variety of creams and tonics when Yoonji came in with the living room stranger. She lays him on the futon Jimin keeps in his work room, for the days he has too many commissions. She closes the door, wanting to keep any noise from reaching Y/n down the hall. Jimin stripped the stranger down to his underwear, wiping him down with a warm cloth to rid him of any grime and blood. Yoonji takes the remaining cloth, assisting Jimin with cleaning the stranger. They work in silence, neither too sure what to say. 

“Namjoon.”

“Excuse me?”

“Namjoon, “Jimin mumbles, “That’s his name.”

The elder stared at her younger friend with surprise. “Did you find a wallet with his ID in it, “Yoonji asked.

“I know him,” Jimin whispered. Yoonji stood shell shocked, “Jimin.. Oh gods, I’m sorry.” They continue to clean Namjoon in uncomfortable silence, until he is free of any grime. “He’s the friend I go on the trails with. He’s always at a park, or working at the plant nursery he co-owns with his roommate. I know Jin didn’t mean to, but I’m so angry.”

Yoonji didn’t know how to comfort her younger friend. She understands why he would be upset, Namjoon was a victim of ‘wrong place, wrong time’. “I know Min, I’m sorry. I understand why you would be upset. Jin didn’t mean it. He must’ve been more blood deprived than we realized, but he would never attack a human on purpose.”

“I know Yoonie. It’s just frustrating to see an innocent person getting caught in the crossfire, especially one that you’re close to, “Jimin sighs. “He’s not hurt, at least from what I can tell. No stabs, claw marks, cuts, or bullet wounds, but that’s not our biggest worry.”

“What is it then? He’s not a werewolf, is he, or a demon?”

“No, since Seokjin was starving, and went into some form of bloodlust. He injected Namjoon with venom,“ Jimin explained. Yoonji cursed, “Fuck! Are you sure?”

Jimin ushered Yoonji to the left side of Namjoon, he carefully tilted his head to the side, exposing his neck. He pointed to the very prominent bite marks, “When I was cleaning around his neck, the blood had a cloudy look to it. I knew he wasn’t sick; if Joon was a werewolf, Seokjin would’ve died within minutes. Namjoon’s body would kill itself trying to purge the vampire venom, if he was a wolf. If he was a demon, Jin would be sick, at worst he would have a stomach ache that would last for a few days, and Namjoon wouldn’t have been affected.”

“So he’s human, “Yoonji says. 

“Was, “Jimin answers, “Jin released enough venom when he bit him to start the transformation. If I’m correct, the transition should be finished within 48 hours, maybe less.”

“Less,” Yoonji croaked, “How?”

“Born vampires are the only ones that can turn humans into vampires, correct,” she nodded, “Well, Seokjin is part of an aristocratic family, he’s also ancient. If I'm not mistaken all of that would make his venom more potent. Namjoon is a healthy human, add a potent venom, and boom you have a newborn.”

Yoonji’s mind was going into overdrive, what were they going to do? They had never sired a vampire. From a very young age they’re taught about how serious sire and fledgling relationships are. Sires can be parental figures to their fledgling, if they weren’t romantically involved before being reborn. Fledglings can easily go feral if they’re not guided correctly, or worse their sire’s reject the bond. Things can go to shit so easily. They’ve heard about newborns going feral hours after their finished transition. Seokjin has had to unfortunately, get rid of a fair amount of feral fledglings in his time in the council. It never gets easier.  

“Yoonie,” Jimin whispered.

“Yeah,” she whispers back. 

“Jin, won’t abandon him will he, “he asked. “Yoon, I know to you two he’s the human that got caught in the crossfire, but he’s my friend. Joonie has been a constant presence in my life for the last year. I don’t want to lose him to this. It might sound selfish, but it feels nice to be treated as normal, or at least be perceived as human. I don’t get envious looks for being the grandson of Park Hyejin. I can talk about plants, and not be told ‘I didn’t ask’. I’m not asked about spells, potions, or favors. I’m not asked about how granny and momma are so powerful, and why I’m not like them even though I’m the first born. I don’t have to take inventory of my greenhouse, or my workroom when he comes over. I’ve never had to use charms around him to keep myself safe. I’ve never had to scour myself, or gifts from him for peeping spells. It’s nice not having to watch my back.”

“Jimin.. I’m sorry. I didn’t know things were getting that bad. I’m sorry you’ve been dealing with this by yourself. I know nothing I say will make it okay. Seokjin will be responsible for Namjoon. Our families have taught us to guide, protect, and love those that we sire. If, for some reason, Seokjin decides to not take responsibility, I’ll become his sire. Namjoon shouldn’t be allowed to go feral, for his mistakes.”

“Will you really, “Jimin asked.

“Yes, I will,” Yoonji said matter of factly. “I might not know him like you do, but I can see you care about him. Like I said he’s innocent in all of this.”

They quietly finished cleaning Namjoon up. Yoonji is beginning to see subtle changes; he’s losing color, his claws are starting to grow out, he’s starting to become free of any blemishes. Namjoon is also starting to breathe more raggedly, she knows soon he’ll stop. The transformation always started physically, while the venom slowly killed the body. Young vamplings were always told the transformation was painful. She’s heard stories of sires sedating their fledglings with all types of concoctions. Most burned through the drugs or alcohol during their transition, or any concussion given to knock them out, was healed. Yoonji doesn’t know how Jimin’s friend will react once he’s woken up after the last breath, but she hopes he’s at least grateful that Jimin sedated him with a spell. 

Being a newborn is hell, she’s seen it. Her favorite auntie was turned by one of her father’s younger brothers when she had just turned 14. She remembers the hunger, the sensitivity, the mood swings her auntie experienced. They were lucky to have had resources back then to ensure her auntie hadn’t gone on a rampage.  There weren’t blood banks back then, and donors were a new concept that few clans had taken up. Yoonji still remembers her auntie complaining about her new fangs aching months after the transformation, and the sunlight sensitivity. It’s not all bad, at least from what she remembers. Her auntie was happy she didn’t have to ask for help with carrying heavy loads, she would spend hours gardening with no complaints of being tired, and surprisingly took on lumbering. Of course being immune to every human disease imaginable was also a plus. 

They finish off the last of the grime on Namjoon’s legs, double checking on his bite wound, to make sure it's healing properly during the transition. Everything is looking good, well as good as the transition from human to vampire can be. Jimin struggles to put some clothes on Namjoon that look a bit small, but it will have to work. Jimin likes tight clothes, and Seokjin would be horrified if anyone caught him in anything less than his finest. Yoonji is significantly smaller than everyone in the house, even her largest garments would fit like doll clothes on her roommate's friend. They wouldn’t even dare going through Y/n’s closet to find anything worthy of his size or any stray pieces from Jungwoo. 

Yoonji helps Jimin clean up the towels they used, putting away the different jars that belong in the first aid kit, and collecting the remnants of Namjoon’s clothes. They continue to work around each other, Yoonji ensuring she stays out of Jimin’s way as he reorganizes to stay calm.

“Min, “Yoonji whispers, “You said Namjoon had a roommate, what are we going to do about that?”

“Fuck, you’re right,” Jimin grumbled. “Hoseok will be worried if Namjoon isn’t home. He’s probably worried sick right now, they make a habit of trying to eat dinner every night. I don’t even know what to do, or what I’ll say to him. As long as I’ve known Namjoon he’s never been gone for more than a few days on his own. Him, and Hoseok always travel together.”

“What should we do, “Yoonji asked.

“I’ll text him from Joon’s phone. I don’t want to, but I’ll just say that I invited him on a last minute camping trip, “he responded. “We’ve been talking about going to the Black Bear Lake campsite for some mushrooms that I’m hoping are in season.”

“Will that work? Do you think he’ll believe it?”

“I’m hoping it will, we’ve been talking about it for a couple of weeks since I gave Joon some samples of my mushroom seasoning, and dried mushroom medley. Hoseok isn’t much of a camper, so we had planned it with only the both of us in mind. Hobi knew we’d leave at any moment, “her roommate explained. 

Yoonji nodded, pleading to the gods that his friend wouldn’t come looking for the fledgling. 

-

Namjoon

19:49

Hobi, Jiminie and I went ahead to the campsite.

We’ll be back by the weekend.

Hoseok

19:53

Okay! Be careful and don’t bring back anything that can make us burn or itch.

Or is poisonous. 

Namjoon

19:57

No promises

-

Three hours later Seokjin woke up less filthy from what he remembered. He’s free of any grime, and caked blood. The elder assumes Yoonji was the one to freshen him up. Jin didn’t remember much past trying to find his way home with the park stranger. 

The stranger…

Fuck..

Seokjin knows he bit the stranger, being withheld from feeding caused him more stress than he anticipated. Checking his surroundings, there’s a lack of blood. He cannot smell, nor see a trace of it. The vampire takes a deep breath to ensure everyone in his home is safe; he can smell Y/n, as well as Yoonji and Jimin, but the slight stench of death is sticking to them. Seokjin frantically makes his way to Jimin’s work room, forgoing any form of cover up. 

Seokjin bursts into the room, frightening the duo. The elder vampire sighs in relief. Yoonji runs up to him, embracing tightly, “Jinnie, oh my gods.” Jimin joins next to them, whispering that he’s grateful Seokjin is okay. 

Seokjin can hear Yoonji struggling to keep it together. He knows he worried her into an early grave. “Kitty it’s okay, I’m fine I promise,“ Jin coos. Yoonji lets out the small sob that had been stuck in her throat. “Don’t ever do that again, “she demanded. “Fuck the council, and fuck their donors. I can ask my dad to send us blood packs or have donors come to the house. Don’t ever go that long without blood.” Jin soothed Yoonji, he feels terrible for frightening her, and Jimin. The last time he was in this much of a distressed state was a century ago, but Yoonji wasn’t around to witness it. 

Jimin guided them to a small loveseat at the corner of the room. It’s a tight fit, but Seokjin will make it work. They pile onto the couch; Jimin on his right, and Yoonji on his left. One has their head on his shoulder while the other is on his chest. Seokjin enjoys the warmth Jimin exudes, and Yoonji draws soft patterns on his stomach with her fingers. He further relaxes by humming a small tune, a lullaby his mother used to sing to him in his youth. 

Jimin is the first to speak up, “What happened tonight Jin?””

Seokjin sighed deeply, “I didn’t realize how much time had passed. One day I’m helping Yoonji out of the brink of starvation, the next I’m being sent to Mongolia to aid with a territory dispute.” He paused momentarily. “They had humans.. But they weren’t donors.” Yoonji whipped her head up towards him, “The Mongolians are still taking humans?”

Jin shrugged, “This particular clan did. The Ganbolds are the oldest clan in Mongolia, as well as the most secluded. They’re.. Traditional, at least they claim to be. Anyway, they were fighting with a small vampire village on the border of their shared territory. It took a few days to get there, and even longer to mediate a compromise. I couldn’t even get a decent amount of animal blood.” 

Yoonji furrowed her eyebrows, “Were the Ganbolds not sharing blood? Did none of the other elders have any blood to spare? I know for a fact that Na and Suh have a stash they bring everywhere with them.”

“Please, Na and Suh have made it well known how much they dislike my side of the Kim clan,” he answers. “The Gandbolds were not having the best season, to say the least. They had to ration whatever supply they had. I could survive with a little bit of blood. Also I’d set myself on fire before I asked any of those old bats for any form of help. When we came back I booked a couple donors, but when I had showed up they refused to let me in. Apparently Choi, Suh, and Lee have banned me from the donor wing because of the little binge I had.” 

“How much is a little binge,” Jimin asked.

“It was three,” Seokjin answered. “It wasn’t even a lot. I’ve heard of Lee drinking from at least five donors at times when he feeds, just because he can. They said ‘Kim, your gluttony is unbecoming of a council member. You are now banned for a fortnight.’” The elder vampire could feel his tension returning, he took a couple of calming breaths, just like Jimin taught him. “I texted Jaeyoung to have a case ready for me. I knew I needed blood for the both of us. He didn’t answer me within the hour like he usually does. So, I decided to walk for a bit while I waited for him to respond. I was taking the long way, cutting through the trail by the park. All of the sudden I got the smell of blood. I ignored it at first, but it got sweeter the farther I walked up the trail. I thought it was a deer, or a fox… but it was him. The man had fallen… scraped his knee. He looked up at me, and he smiled.” 

Seokjin swallowed the lump that was growing in his throat. Jimin scooted closer to him, molding himself to fit onto Jin’s side, Yoonji followed his lead. Jin readjusted himself, he pulled Jimin’s legs onto his right leg, and Yoonji onto his left leg. They were practically sitting on him, and the pressure felt relieving. “I was just trying to help him up. But the smell of blood… was too much. I blacked out for a second, when I came to we were full of blood. I freaked out. I couldn’t leave him there, so I brought him home and now we’re here. I didn’t mean to feed on him. I didn’t mean to attack him. I..” The vampire let out the sob that he was holding, “I never wanted to hurt him. I felt disgusted by how much his blood affected me.” 

Yoonji reached up and dried his tears with the cuff of her soft cardigan, “I know Jinnie, you’d never hurt anyone.” She gently caressed the side of his face to comfort him, taking in how much regret he was feeling. Jimin stood up hastily, Jin furrowed his brow in worry. “Min, what’s wrong?” The young witch began to pace, murmuring to himself, “Breathe, two, three. Out, two, three.” He repeated this four times. 

Seokjin gently removed Yoonji’s lower body from their current position, and he approached his younger roommate. “Hey, Min, I know you’re worried and I-” Jimin paused, visibly collecting himself, “I- fuck. Jin, I knew him.”

The vampire visibly tensed, “You knew him. Fuck, Min, I’m sorry. I.. I didn’t mean it. I swear. It was an accident, I swear Min.” Seokjin could feel a tingling sensation on his nose, he started to feel his face heat up as well as his ears. His breaths became shorter and he was struggling to take deep breaths. Jin could feel his chest tightening, and his head got lighter. He could barely hear Yoonji and Jimin trying to calm him down. Seokjin could hear the witch searching through his jars for anything that could help him calm down. 

“Jinnie,” Yoonji whispered, “Tell me five things you see.”

“What,” he mumbled.

“Tell me five things you see,” she repeated. 

“Uh, Jimin’s vine plant.”

“Good, what else?”

“Your fuzzy red polka dot socks.”

“Good job Jinnie, what else, “his friend asked.

“Jimin’s sunset lamp, my black hoodie that I’ve been looking for, and Min’s overflowing bookcase,” he answered. 

“Okay, tell me four things you smell,” Yoonji said.

“I..uh..smell,” he paused and took deep breaths. “I smell your Eucalyptus body wash, Min’s peach deep conditioner, Y/n’s chocoflan, and burnt candles.”

“Three things you can hear,” Yoonji continued.

“I can hear Y/n’s heartbeat on the other side of the hall, I hear the ‘Alexa’ speaker still playing in the kitchen, and I hear Jimin’s boots,” he responds. 

“Two things you can feel.”

“I can feel… my black trousers, and Min’s wooden floor.”

“One thing you can taste.”

“I can taste lavender, from the calming candy Jimin gives me,” Seokjin mumbles. 

Jimin comes back to Jin, lavender gummy in hand. “Hey,” the witch said, “Jinnie I’m not mad at you. Eat the gummy, once you’re calm we’ll talk.” The elder vampire nodded, chewing the gummy quickly. 

Yoonji guides them back onto the loveseat, arranging him and their roommate back to their prior positions. She fixes Jimin’s legs to go across Jin’s lap, and adjusts herself across both of them. The younger vampire tucks herself under his chin, quietly humming Mrs. Kim’s lullaby. 

When Seokjin wakes up again, his roommates are clinged to him. Jimin is humming a tune of his own, and Yoonji is tracing the tattoo on the witch’s arm. He closes his eyes, enjoying feeling cared for by his friends. The older vampire tries to stall talking about their predicament, but he knows Jimin is aware that he’s conscious. 

“Jin,” Jimin says, “I’m not mad.” He sits up, looking straight at him. Seokjin actively avoids meeting his friend’s eyes, he refuses to see how much he’s hurt him. The witch sighs, “I’m not mad Jinnie, I was scared. Terrified.” Yoonji gestures for him to listen to what their younger roommate was saying.  He nods for Jimin to continue, “Do you know how horrifying it was to see two of my friends covered in blood? I thought someone attacked you both.” 

Jimin paused, taking a moment to find the right words to say. “When I saw the bite marks.. I knew that it was yours. I know that you didn’t mean to. I know that you’d never attack a human on purpose, but..,” he sighed. “But I was still angry. I know that to you, and Yoonji, he’s a stranger, but to me he’s Joonie. I meet him every Wednesday without fail. I’ve met his roommate. I’ve eaten dinner with them multiple times. His roommate, Hoseok, has commissioned work from me for personal use. I’ve been a part of his life for the last year. I’ve never told him about the magic, and spells, and all that supernatural part of my life. It was nice not having to worry about keeping myself protected from any form of hexes, peeping bugs, or befriending him without second thoughts that he was trying to learn about my family magic. I was just Jimin. When I saw him all bloodied and pale, it felt like my bubble burst.” 

Their younger roommate hesitated, “I’m sorry for thinking that you would purposefully hurt anyone unprompted. I was so worried when you were growing closer to being feral.” Jimin sniffled, struggling to keep his tears in. Jin reached out to his friend. He takes a hold of Min’s smaller hand, intertwining his longer digits with his shorter ones. The gesture brings comfort to the witch, and he continues. “It’s one thing to have strangers come up to me with different afflictions, but it's another to see your loved ones in trouble. All I kept thinking about was, ‘What if Joon isn’t human?’ ‘What if Jinnie’s body doesn’t react well to the blood? What if a hunter saw you?’ I thought about a lot of ‘what if’s’. But seeing you hysterical with regret, and grief, I couldn’t stay upset at you. I’m sorry Jinnie.” 

Seokjin pulls Jimin with a gentle hug, swaying just a bit as he rubs his back in comforting motions. Jin knows his younger friend is trying his hardest to keep it together. This evening hasn’t been the kindest to them, and he’ll hold no grudges towards the high emotions that ran. The elder vampire gives Jimin one final squeeze. As they’re pulling apart, without thinking, he leans in and plants a kiss on the crown of his friend's head. “It's okay Min, I understand.”

Jimin pulls the elder back into a hug, hiding his face on Jin’s chest. He can hear Min’s soft sobs, and feel the fresh tears falling on his skin. Jin pulls him in for a tighter hug, laying his head on top of his to further comfort his friend. They stayed wrapped in each other until Jimin had cried himself exhausted. The elder guided Jimin back onto the loveseat, tucking him into the corner with one of the many blankets the witch has stashed. 

The elder vampires decide to take turns monitoring their roommates. Jimin and Y/n were still asleep, while Min’s friend was in the midst of the transition. Yoonji had to be the one to tell Seokjin about Joon’s condition. Jin was nothing short of horrified, not even when he was a young vampling had he accidentally released venom into a human. Animals, maybe, but it paralyzes them. He felt ashamed, completely unworthy of his family’s trust to represent them in the council. Jin knew how important it was to not only be a dutiful sire, but full consent of the transformation was something that was repeatedly brought up. Forever is a long time, no one knew that more than them. 

Seokjin felt horrible taking away Namjoon’s choice. He knew he’d have to tell the man about their world; how they live, the council, who to avoid regarding blood, the sensitivity to everything around them. It would be overwhelming to the new fledgling, but he was determined to be the best sire he could be. 

It’s around the early AM’s when the vampires decide they want to rest. Namjoon’s breathing had evened out, and he was no longer struggling, they felt they could step away to drink some O positive coffee. Yoonji had convinced Jin to change into his most comfortable clothes, dark joggers and the black hoodie in Min’s workroom. They worked together to get a small breakfast going. Jin made their coffees, while Yoonji made them toast; Jin’s with nutella and strawberries, Yoonji’s with butter and mixed berry jam. They make extra coffee in case Jimin wakes up soon, or gods forbid, Y/n wakes up. 

The older roommates stood by their kitchen island, enjoying the quiet in their home. Seokjin took a long sip of his cup, “Did Jimin say how long it would be until his friend finished the transition?” Yoonji nodded as she chewed a large bite of toast, “He said it would take 48 hours, give or take.”

“That soon,” Seokjin murmured, “It usually takes a few days.”

“True, but Jimin said that since not only are you old as shit-”

“Hey!”

Yoonji chuckled, “You’re also an aristocratic born vampire, according to him that all factors into the potency of the venom.” Seokjin grimaced, “Who knew my amazing pedigree would be my downfall.” His best friend giggled a bit at that one, “Right, here I thought your lack of filter would be the one to take you out.”  Jin guffawed at his younger friend, but joined in with her laughter. 

In the midst of their carefree moment, they hear the clanking of bottles in Jimin’s workroom. Seokjin gestures for Yoonji to stay in the kitchen. If the new fledgling has finished his transformation he has to ensure his home, and the people in it are safe. The elder vampire carefully made his way into the hallway; he can hear three heart beats, and that instantly lowers his defenses. Jin knocks lightly on the door, opening it slightly, “Min, are you up?”

Seokjin was able to hear the rustling of a blanket being folded, and pillows being arranged. He hears Jimin’s steps being muffled by his piggy slippers, slightly sliding once he’s walking on the hardwood floor. The smell of Dragons Blood incense, and something muskier bleed out from the cracks. Jimin hurriedly squeezed himself out, carefully closing the door to his room. “Sorry, sorry, I had to clean up.” Min gestures for Jin to follow him towards the kitchen, waving at Yoonji as he walks in with Seokjin. She visibly released a sigh she was holding in, relieved it was their younger roommate making a ruckus so early in the morning. 

The roommates finished the rest of their breakfast in silence. No one wanted to pop their little bubble of normalcy. They share their small spread, Jin refilling their drinks. For a moment he can pretend that he doesn’t have a fledgling in the other room. He can pretend that Y/n is sleeping in from how often she turns off her work alarms. They can pretend it’s a slow morning, but reality is never that forgiving. Yoonji is the first one to slightly perk up, she tells them she heard Y/n’s alarm go off and be turned off. Seokjin heard the muffled ‘fuck’ from their roommate’s room, he could also hear the slamming of drawers and the creaks of the closet door hinges. The three of them sat still as Y/n walked out of her room, carefully closing her door and entering the hallway bathroom. 

Yoonji waited until they heard the shower start to say anything. “Min, I thought you said she would be passed out for the next day,” she hissed. Jimin looked at his roommates with just as much confusion, “She should’ve been knocked out until tomorrow, at the least. I already texted her boss that she had been sick all night. What are we going to do?”

The elder vampire vampire was scared shitless, to say the least. “What spell did you use,” Yoonji asked. Jimin furrowed his eyebrows, “It was the spell I use on Jungkook when he’s having one of his energy bursts. He’s a werewolf so it only lasts so long on him. Y/n is human, she should’ve stayed asleep for days.” Yoonji visibly grew tense, “She must be one of us. Maybe she has a charm or some form of glamor. I mean you used a spell for a fucking werewolf, she should’ve been sleeping like the dead.”

“That’s impossible,” Jimin answered. “I have powerful spells that remove any form of glamor; spells, potions, or charms. Y/n wouldn’t have been able to take a step across our doorstep if she had done any of that.”

As his roommates were trying to solve their current conundrum, Seokjin tried to go through the list of their kind that could have possibly bypassed the witch’s protection barriers. Every humanoid he thought of could easily be detected by Jimin’s spells, even the weakest of witches. “Have there been any humans that are probably immune to that form of magic,” the vampire asked. 

“I’ve personally never seen it, maybe my granny or mom have, but they’ve never told me about it,” Jimin answered. 

Seokjin thought back to his mother telling him stories about different creatures and humanoids. The only other of their kind that it could possibly be was a magic sensitive, but as far as his mother told him no one in their world considered them supernatural. “What about a magic sensitive?”

“Huh,” his roommates exclaimed. 

“A magic sensitive, “Jin repeated, “It makes sense. Think about it, she’s easily bonded to Kookie, Y/n hasn’t had any form of reaction to Tae, and we all know how hard that is for humans.” Both his roommates nodded in agreement. “She’s mentioned seeing sprites around Jimin’s greenhouse, but he was able to make her think they looked like flies.”

“I remember that,” Jimin says, “I had to say they were fruit flies from my compost.” 

Yoonji crosses her arms in thought, “Y/n is always able to find anything I lose, comes in handy when I essentially lose my house keys on the regular.” 

“I think she has premonitions,” the witch adds. “She’s talked to me about some heavy deja-vu she’s had since moving here.”

Seokjin took in all the information, “Then she’s a magic sensitive. That’s the only logical explanation. She doesn’t have any form of power like Jimin does, and if she was some form of creature she wouldn’t be able to walk into our home unscathed.” 

“What should we do,” the female vampire wondered aloud. Their normalcy was falling apart, and there was no way to stop it.

Fic Masterlist

[writingforsimps]

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