#the piggyback passages masterlist | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spunky-89 · 4 years

Text

A Very Merry Christmas (Part Two)

A/N: So here is the next part. This is the part I was most excited about. I know that last one wasn’t that great, but I just had so many cute little snippets I didn’t want to leave them out. But I promise this part is much more cohesive.

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3000

The presents were wrapped, the lights on the tree twinkling, soft Christmas music played, the fireplace roaring, and Steve, Bucky, and (Y/N) were all gathered in their living room on Christmas morning. There was a gentle snowfall outside and it felt magical. For the first time in a while, the three felt as though nothing could ruin their happy bubble. It was picture perfect.

They decided to have some coffee while they opened presents, as (Y/N) was cold and tired, and Bucky was always grumpy till he had his caffeine in the mornings. Steve decided to prepare it for his two tired lovers. He knew how they both liked their coffees and what mugs they were to be put in. Though he didn’t put them in their normal mugs, as he decided to get them both a Christmas mug just for this reason. They were a little tacky, but they were all little kids when it came to Christmas.

Once Steve delivered the coffees and they cooed at the new mugs, he joined them on the floor in front of the tree. They all sat there for a minute. There was no rush, no hustle and bustle, just peace.

None of them wanted to break the bubble of peace, but they were excited to watch each other open their gifts, even more excited then they were to open their own.

“Okay, so I guess we should start on this massive pile.” You said. You then gave the boys a look and said, “Which by the way, you guys went way overboard.”

“Can we not spoil the love of our lives,” Steve said with a smile.

“Mhmm,” You said squinting at them, their matching mischievous looks worried you slightly.

“Here, open this one first,” Bucky said gently handing you a box.

“Why am I going first?”

“Becaaauuussseeee.” He whined.

“Okay, okay. Sheesh.”

You took a good look at the box. It was pretty big and you knew nothing you had put on your list was that big. The wrapping was also weird but you just figured they had trouble with it. You started slowly unwrapping it, trying not to jostle the box since the little Christmas label on the front said fragile. The paper gave way to a plain cardboard box. You were confused and shot the boys a look, but they were both smiling widely. You also noticed Bucky was filming you.

“Buccckkyyyyyy, no video or pictures.” You whined.

“Just this one doll, I promise.”

“Fine,” You grumbled as you started to peel the tape off the top.

As the two flaps came loose, the top pushed up a bit. You jumped from the shock, quickly looking to Steve and Bucky to make sure everything was fine, but they looked even more excited now. You looked back to the box as you watched a small head pop out.

Tears immediately came to your eyes as you took in the small white-furred head.

“Shut up,” You squeaked out, the tears starting to stream.

“Well you always say you wanted a friend to comfort you when we’re gone, so we got you one,” Steve said softly.

“Oh my god,” You sobbed. You lifted the flaps and gently grabbed the cat from the box. The cat instantly snuggled into you. You cried louder.

You saw a note on one of the flaps and grabbed it, the cat still heald to your chest with one hand. You flipped open the letter and started reading it aloud.

Dear mommy,

I have had a lot of names in my life, but you can give me a new one. I am 4 years old. My new daddies rescued me from the shelter. They say this is going to be my forever home, but I am nervous. I have been brought back to the shelter 5 times. The nice people at the shelter take good care of me, but it’s not the same as a home. The shelter people didn’t want to let my daddies bring me home, they wanted to keep me a foster kitty, but they promised you would love me unconditionally and never bring me back. I hope they’re right. I am a very gentle and calm cat. I actually enjoy cuddles, some times. I do enjoy playing, but I don’t mind just lying around either.

I think I kept getting brought back because I have a small disability and after my third failed home, I have trouble trusting new families. I am not a vocal cat, I tend to keep very quiet unless I am in pain or distress. I guess most families want a kitty that will talk to them. Also, since I am getting older, no one wants me. They all want babies. I don’t blame them. I was once one of the cute kittens everyone wanted.

I cannot wait to bond with you and love you for the rest of my life.

The tears just kept flowing as you finished reading.

“Oh, you poor baby. I promise to always love you. You’ll never have to go back.” You sobbed into the cat’s fur.

You looked up to your boyfriends and cried “Thank you!”

“You are so welcome sweetheart,” Steve smiled.

You sniffled and tried to start calming the tears. You noticed your new cat was trying to reach the wrapping paper so you giggled and gave them a piece.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” You asked the boys after reading over the note again to be sure you didn’t miss that detail.

“Damn, knew we forgot something in the letter,” Bucky mumbled.

“It’s okay, I love it and will cherish it forever.” You said as you refolded the letter and put it on the coffee table behind you.

“It is a girl.”

“She’s so beautiful, I can’t imagine why anyone would want to give her up.” You said as you stroked her fur as she batted the wrapping paper around.

“Their loss is our gain,” Bucky said with a wide smile.

“Alright, let’s dig into the rest of these while you think of names,” Steve said as he started passing presents.

“I don’t need to think, her name is Minxy.”

“Minxy?” Bucky asked.

“Yup, and before you ask why, she just looks like a Minxy to me.”

“Okay then, Minxy it is.” Steve smiled.

In the end, they had given you everything you would need for the newest member of your family. This included bowls, food, a bed, a cat tower, some toys, and a collar (with the promise of a tag with her name). They also got a few small regular gifts for you such as a new frame collage for the living room, a pair of heels you’d been eyeing for a while, and a gift card to Sephora (they said they wanted to buy the actual items but they got scared when they entered so the clerk suggested a gift card).

Steve had gotten some new sketchbooks and pencils (he broke them so often it was a given for his birthday and Christmas), a nice watch, and a drawing tablet. He was skeptical but you were sure once he got the hang of it, he’d never put it down.

Bucky was gifted with some new colorful knitted fingerless gloves from a cute Etsy shop, a new journal, and some cologne.

“Okay boys, now I’m really happy I decided to do this after what you boys did, but I did something special for you both, well two things, but the one is kinda - well you’ll see when you open it.” You said as you grabbed your last two gifts for the boys.

You first handed them the smaller box, stealing your cat back from Bucky who was entertaining her with reflections from his hand.

“To remind us of this moment forever,” Steve read as he lifted the gift from the inside. It was a small white ornament, it was a thin circle with the words Our First Christmas.

“I know technically this isn’t our first Christmas, but it is our first official Christmas together since we were still figuring out our relationship last year as well as you guys had to go on assignment.” You explained.

“It’s perfect darlin, and very sweet and thoughtful,” Bucky said with a smile.

“Did you make this yourself?” Steve asked.

“Well I bought the ornament but yeah, I hand-painted it.”

“Woman, you will never cease to amaze me.” Bucky exhaled.

“It’s not a big deal, nothing even in the ballpark of what Steve can do.”

“But you are just as good in a lot of art forms I am not.” Steve pointed out.

“All right, stop. Just open the next gift.” You said thrusting the bigger box towards them.

After tearing through the paper, they were faced with a faux worn leather book, colorful letters spelling out Our Adventure Book. They gave you a look and Steve lifted it out. It was a large book, thick with pages crammed in. He flipped open the first page. There was a note on it.

For the adventures we have had in the past and the ones we will have in the future ♡

They turned the next page and they found a picture of Steve and (Y/N) dancing at one of Tony’s fancy parties, they had huge smiles on their faces as they laughed. Next to the picture was the date and a small blurb of what she remembered from that night. The next page had two pictures. They were also of Steve and (Y/N), this one was clearly from the paparazzi but it was cute. It was of the two of them in Coney Island. (Y/N) was riding piggyback on Steve as she held a cotton candy in one hand and a stuffed tiger in her other. One picture was from the back and one from the front. The picture where you could see their faces Steve was smiling wide as you laughed. There were a few more pictures of the years before Bucky. One stuck out. In bold letters at the top, When I Realized I Loved You. There was a small passage below it.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but I think this is the moment where I fell in love with you. Though I think it was a gradual thing, this moment really solidified it. I think I subconsciously pushed the idea of being in love with you away in fear of ruining what we had. But as I was putting this book together, I came across this picture and I realized that this was the moment I realized. I will forever be grateful for this moment, even if it was one of the worst days of my life, I think the outcome was pretty good.

The picture was one Friday had taken. The Avengers had been off on a mission that went south fast. There was radio silence and Friday could not get a beat on any of them. By this point, you and Steve had already been friends for over a year. You had seen him off on missions before, you’d seen them go bad. But never like this.

You were at the tower, having been escorted there for your safety. You had been watching the news, looking at the death and destruction that was occurring. Then, your heart dropped. You watched as Steve was launched through the air and off the side of a building. You couldn’t see where he landed, but it was a far drop into mass chaos. You had let out a piercing scream, collapsing to the ground.

Luckily, he came out the other side alive. He was beaten and bruised, but he was alive. The picture captured the moment when he stepped off the plane and you launched yourself into his arms. You were both holding each other tightly and crying, glad that you both were alive and together.

The tears were streaming down Steve’s face as he read the passage and looked at the picture, remembering vividly the day. You were crying as well, you knew which page he was on and it still hit you hard.

Once Steve was able to see properly again and took a deep breath, they kept flipping. There were more pictures of you and Steve, then the first pictures with Bucky were actually ones you had managed to scrounge up from the deep dark web (also known as bullying Tony until he helped). It was of Steve and Bucky back in the 40s. There were a few from before the war, childhood and teenage years, then pictures of them while they were at war. You had left space so they could fill in their thoughts and feelings about each picture.

The next two pictures were from the first day you met Bucky. Near the end of the day, Bucky had lightened up (). He was smiling and laughing with Steve. That was the first picture. Steve and Bucky on your old shitty couch laughing. They both looked so much younger. Then the picture next to it was of the three of you. Steve caught you taking pictures and dragged you onto his lap and you took a selfie of the three of you.

After that, there were more pictures of the fun times you had together and separately.

Bucky’s breathing stopped when he got to his page. When I Knew I Loved You.

It was much quicker with you then it was with Steve. Almost instant. You were still so sad and broken, but you swore I helped you feel whole again. It was sappy and you always said it in a joking tone, but the sincerity shone in your eyes each time. And it made me so glad that I could do something to help numb some of the pain that you had been harboring for decades. On this day, it was something so small, so insignificant, but it meant everything. This little gesture, though it ended in a bit of a disaster, made me freeze. I realized I loved you. At that time I had already been playing the game with myself of ‘I love Steve as a best friend’ so I started to do the same thing with you. Looking back, I was an idiot, but that is beside the point. Loving you came naturally, and it made me work twice as hard to make you believe that you deserve to be loved and cared for.

The memory spoken of was only about 5 or so months after you had first met Bucky. You had a horrible day and were feeling like crawling into bed and never emerging. Bucky had called to ask if you wanted to meet him and Steve for dinner, but you declined. You had done your best to mask the emotion in your voice, but clearly, you had failed.

20 minutes after your phone call, you heard a knock at the door but didn’t feel like answering. A moment later the lock clicked as the door was opened, you were worried for a minute before you heard his voice announce he was here. You heard him mulling around in the main area before approaching your bedroom. He gently knocked on the door. You let out some form of noise and he crept in. He told you he had brought some stuff and he was gonna make dinner. He picked you up and brought you into the kitchen where he sat you on a counter. You saw a beautiful bouquet of flowers on your table. When you questioned why he was doing this, he said he wanted you to feel the same support you always gave him when he was feeling down. He ended up burning the food. The pictures on the page were of that night. First was a picture of the bouquet, then him cooking, then the food burning, his flurry to try and put it out, then his pouting face at dinner while eating takeout.

Bucky laughed, though his eyes were misty. He looked up at you and said, “Thank you, this is so…”

“Don’t worry about it, every word in there is true. I love you both so much.” You said

“And we, you,” Steve replied.

They continued flipping through. There were more pictures, including the first day you decided to become more than friends, your first date night at home, your first date night out, and so many more. They were about halfway into the book. The flipped another page over and there was a small blurb on a sticky note and below it, three slips of paper taped to the page. The sticky note read The rest of the book is for our many adventures to come. These tickets are for the next one. They furrowed their eyebrows and looked closer at them. Their eyes went wide. They looked at you, looked at the page, you, page, you, page.

“You’re kidding me? Sweetheart,”

“I want to. I’ve been wanting to do this for a while, this year just seemed like the perfect time.” You smiled.

The pieces of paper were fake tickets you had made. They said ‘good for one 5 day Disney World tickets, flights, and lodging’.

“This is too much,” Bucky said.

“You got me a cat, I don’t see the difference.”

They both gave you looks. You just smiled. They both moved over closer to you and tackled you to the floor, showering you with kisses. You giggled as they did so. Even your new kitty joined in and started batting at your face.

“Merry Christmas sweetheart,” Steve said.

“Merry Christmas my loves,”

“Merry Christmas! And if I do say so myself, I’d say it was a very merry Christmas.”

“Shut up dork/punk!” You and Steve spoke at nearly the same time.

It was a very Merry Christmas indeed.

A/N: I am sure it is obvious, but full disclaimer, I know nothing about cats. My whole family is allergic and so I can’t get one. Please, please, please, let me know if there is anything major I am describing wrong or characterizing wrong and I will adjust in future installations with Minxy. Also, for those who want to know, I picked a snow lynx bengal cat (also known as a white bengal). And if you recognize the name as a name for a different white striped cat (though my minxy is much smaller then her namesake), let me know. I’d be curious to know if anyone knows where I got the name from :)

31 notes · View notes

perpetually-jungshook · 7 years

Text

Without You: Bloodstone (Part 17)

Genre: AU, bts!werewolf, fantasy, angst

Warnings: language, violence, suggestive content

Word Count: 3.3k

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

Link to: Storyboard (reference pictures) | General lore post Prologue | Previous | Masterlist | Next

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

Chapter 17:

I stare at Jimin’s closed door, coming to a crossroad in my mind. I could give up on him. It would be so easy to start treating him like everyone else, ignoring Jimin except when absolutely necessary. It would be easy, yes, but it’s not something I want. Even if he’s rude to me, he deserves to be treated with the respect of a human being… in the metaphorical sense. Because he’s a werewolf, not a human.

With a reluctant sigh, I return to Jungkook’s room.

The next few days are uneventful. My raven haired friend is busy with training and the rest of the pack, often accompanied by Munhee and sans Jimin, spend time outside the bunker with him. I see the outcast boy with the coffee colored hair once every twelve hours or so when he asks if I’ve eaten or humorlessly if I feel like I’m dying, the answers to which are usually yes, then no. Halsahm remains silent.

I have no time or lack the opportunity to pull Namjoon aside and ask him about the second type of bonding Taehyung had mentioned, but there’s no rush on pure curiosity. My attention is elsewhere, namely on getting someone to take me to the Hepatica field.

I would ask Jungkook, but he seems to be getting more and more exhausted with each passing day and if I were to get in trouble, I wouldn’t want it to effect him (especially with his hypersensitive nature). I would ask Taehyung, but he (along with the rest of the pack) would likely side with Munhee, the person I’m hoping to gain information on while performing the divination. Well, it’s not so much “information” as it is seeing whether or not she’s lying to me or hiding something, which might be a concept that’s hard to swallow for the wolves that have imprinted on her.

This leaves Jimin, who is less than willing to cooperate.

“How many times are you going to ask me?” he whispers harshly as soon as he answers his door. I don’t like badgering him, but with each day that passes, the innate fear increases in my mind. Could Munhee be indoctrinating Jungkook? Controlling our minds? It sounds stupid, but we’re dealing with real magic. I need to know we’re safe.

I shrug, unable to meet his gaze, “How many times will it take for you to say yes?”

Jimin groans, jaw jutting forward as he stares at the ceiling, “So you’ll leave me alone if I take you to this stupid flower field?”

I nod fervently.

“Fine. I’ll come get you as soon as everyone else is asleep.”

I have to suppress the urge to cheer. I’d tried to appeal to logic, sympathy, and was on the verge of resorting to outright begging. Who knew Jimin would be motivated by the selfish drive to be left alone? Whatever works. I won’t complain.

“Do you want to know-?”

“No, I don’t care about what you think you’re doing. Just don’t die and get me in trouble.”

“I promise I’ll try not to.”

“Good. Now stop pestering me.”

Jimin closes the door in my face. Again. At least this time I definitely have his help. With a small sigh, I go to Jungkook’s room a little relieved, but also a little nervous. I’ve secured the means, but what about the end? I hope I’m being suspicious for no reason, but what if my fears are validated? Or worse, what if I can’t perform a divination?

It’s only worked once out of the few times I’ve tried. What if I can’t…?

I shake my head and push it to the back of my mind. I’ll have to cross that bridge when I get to it. For now, I need to focus on getting there first.

“Eun?” Jungkook pokes his head out from behind the bathroom curtain.

I give him a soft smile, “Right here, Kookie.”

His expression brightens in relief and it hurts me to think that if he wakes up at any point tonight and finds me missing, he’d go into a blind panic. I’ll just have to be quick…

Pushing my fingers through Jungkook’s damp raven black hair to get it away from his eyes, I press a light kiss to his forehead and even in his sleep, a smile pulls at his lips. With the utmost care, one small movement at a time, I untangle our legs and shift to perch on the edge of the bed, waiting for Jimin.

How will he know when everyone’s asleep? Better question, will Jimin even remember to show up? Ideally, he would appear right when I ask this question. But he takes his sweet time and I’m sore from sitting still when he opens the door an hour later.

“About time,” are the words I want to say, but I keep them to myself, instead giving him a grateful nod.

Slipping on my shoes and picking up my backpack, I follow Jimin to the main mistletoe doors, opening them for him. My companion doesn’t wait for me, ascending the stairs without looking back. I have to jog to catch up with him, afraid he’ll leave me behind for some strange reason, but I find the boy with the coffee colored hair waiting just outside the shack.

“Where are we going?” he asks, already sounding annoyed.

“It’s a Hepatica field-”

“Yeah but where is it?”

I take a deep breath, knowing he’s about to get angry with me, “I don’t know. I was hoping you could… smell it or something.”

Jimin’s eyes bug, “It’s not magic. I can’t just sniff the air and tell you where some stupid Hydrangea-”

“Hepatica.”

“Who cares? That’s not the point. I can’t just lead you to some random spot in the middle of the forest without at least knowing what the scent is.”

He has a point.

My voice gets small, “It was by a stream.”

“Congratulations. There are dozens of streams.”

I suddenly wish I had paid more attention to my surroundings or at least had some sort of inkling of a direction, even vaguely.

“It was the first place we met the pack- Jungkook and I,” I offer.

“I wasn’t there.” He can’t even help me a little bit? But then: “Wait, are the flowers purple?”

“Y-yes,” I stutter as Jimin suddenly starts forward.

“I know where it is.”

“Sunbae, you’re walking too fast,” I stumble to keep up, eyes widening as his muscles ripple.

Jimin pauses and pulls off his sweater, tossing it to me and transforming in the blink of an eye. One moment, he appears as human as Munhee and me. The next, he’s a massive lupine creature, features like a wolf, stance almost like a gorilla but a tad more bipedal, probably looming over eight feet tall on its hind limbs with long, shiny coffee brown fur. Its legs stretch the elastic of the shorts it still wears, tail peeking awkwardly out of one of the leg holes. The juxtaposition of images is almost humorous.

The wolf’s head swivels back, eyes narrowing in an emotion reminiscent of distaste. Is it waiting for another piggyback ride? I can do that. Stuffing the sweater into my backpack, I climb on and wrap my arms around the creature’s thick neck.

I’m better prepared this time, at least in terms of knowing what to expect. Hanging on for dear life, I bury my nose in the wolf’s fur and squeeze my eyes closed, trusting it- no, trusting Jimin. The thought of asking why he abruptly figured out where the field was crosses my mind in only a fleeting thought as its powerful claws dig into the gravely earth and propel us forward, but once we’re moving, I can only concentrate on holding on while the wolf’s muscles flex semi-rhythmically beneath me.

I count the passage of time in forcibly even breaths, my heartbeat and the creature’s movements too sporadic to be reliable. Still, my waning strength is the only markable progression with my eyelids clamped shut.

Eventually we slow to a walk and I allow myself to take a look around. I have no idea where we are, but I do know we’re not in a field of Hepaticas.

“Sunbae?” I look at the back of the wolf’s head with concern. I don’t know much about wolf mannerisms, but whenever an animal has its ears pinned back against its head, I’m under the impression that it’s distressed.

It takes a hesitant step forward, sniffing audibly, as my eyes scan the trees around us. I can’t find anything, but that doesn’t say much. About to tighten my grip around the creature’s neck, I’m surprised to find my toes meeting the ground as Jimin returns to his human form. I let go and step back, legs wobbly and arms achy, but able to keep my balance.

“Do you smell it?” Jimin asks, voice raspy as he breathes heavily.

“It?”

“The sulfur.”

I inhale deeply, but can’t pick up anything beyond the rich scents of the forest.

“It’s faint. Old,” he observes, looking around carefully and explaining before I can ask, probably anticipating my question and not wanting to be annoyed. “Sulfur means a demon was here… incorporeally. It doesn’t have a host body yet.”

“Should we leave and go tell the others?”

Jimin shakes his head, “It’s gone already. No point. The field is just up ahead.”

I resume walking, my companion falling into step behind me. The chorus of crickets and the light breeze are reassuring, but I sneak a look at Yoongi’s watch nevertheless. It ticks along normally. I start to relax. No demons. Between the leaves in the trees, I occasionally catch sight of the moon. It’s not full, but I still can’t help glancing over my shoulder at Jimin, who meets my gaze with an unabashed coldness.

The odd thing is, despite throwing around mistrust for everyone who has only been kind and helpful, I feel no suspicion toward Jimin. He could give me a cliched “You fool, you ventured into the middle of the forest with me alone” and I still wouldn’t necessarily be as scared of him as I am of Munhee. At least I know where I stand with Jimin. He’s rude, but he’s fairly transparent. He also has full control of his werewolf form.

“Sunbae, can I ask you a question?”

“Will you continue bothering me if I say no?”

I decide to be honest, “Probably.”

He scoffs, “Then ask away.”

I can’t tell if he’s finally growing fond enough of me to open up or if he’s just irritated enough to crack, though I’d place my bet on the latter option. I clear my throat quietly, “Why do you stay with the pack if you hate them?”

I don’t know what makes me ask this. Curiosity maybe. But every time I’m alone with Jimin I guess I tend to inadvertently want to solve the puzzle that’s his backstory. If only he’d tell me right out. If only he’d stop closing himself off…

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Didn't you just say something about answering me on the principle that I'd just keep asking so you might as well save yourself the trouble?”

Jimin lets out a huff, “It’s just complicated.”

“I’m a good listener,” I offer quietly, hoping he can hear the reassuring smile in my voice.

There's a small pause as he either rolls his eyes or contemplates his answer. Jimin’s reply comes just as the trees part, revealing the Hepatica field, “I guess I don't know. That's the problem.”

His words are startlingly genuine and almost soft. This encourages me and I match his tone as I walk into the small clearing, feeling the flowers and their stems crunch under my feet, “Maybe it's because you know being with people you dislike is better than being with no one at all.”

I take extra effort to make sure there's nothing aggressive or derisive about my comment and he seems to pick this up, grunting a quiet, “Maybe.”

A soft warmth spreads through my chest. Progress.

But with that, Jimin’s mood predictably freezes over again, his eyes narrowing, “Well, do whatever you need to do so I can go home and sleep.”

“Okay, just give me thirty minutes.”

“You have fifteen.”

I don't know if I can push that time limit or if he will literally just leave me behind at the fifteen minute mark, so I immediately set to work. It takes me five minutes to find the instructions and set up, leaving me ten to get the information I need. My leather bound book said divination could come in the form of spirits, whispers, weather anomalies, or visions. This seems like a ridiculously wide variety with no rhyme or reason. But I'm not about to question it.

I stare at the bloodstone, specifically at the slight shine on its naturally polished surface from the moon.

Okay. Time for a vision.

Now.

N…now?

Maybe not a vision, maybe a whisper. So I need to ask a question? I can do that.

Where is Hal-?

Something shimmers in the crimson speckles of the bloodstone, but it’s not like the doors in the hallway. This isn’t a matter of existence or perception. The changing patterns seem to reach into my mind, playing with my thoughts.

I’m staring at the stone and yet… I can see something else. Light flickers in my eyes and it’s almost like I’m seeing double, but not really. There are not two bloodstones, not four hands holding it, but rather two completely different settings vying for control of my attention. I’m seeing what I know is in front of me, but also the hallway to Munhee’s workshop? At the very edge of my relatively limited line of sight, I can just make out the sigil on the door.

Excitement rushes through my veins and causes the vision to ebb, so I take a deep breath and reign in my emotions, trying to concentrate.

Okay, I’m in front of the door, but the book said nothing about how to actually navigate these intangible settings. Do I step forward? Do I just think about stepping forward? The one other occasion I’d been able to successfully perform a divination, it had been a brief, vague vision. The image of a cluster of small red berries had flashed behind my eyelids. I still have no idea what it means or if my brain had just conjured it up because I had wanted to see something so badly.

But this? I’m in new territory. I try for the literal step forward first, but my body does not move. Alright, a mental step forward it is. Nothing happens. Frustration prickles at my nerves, and the sigil on the door becomes blurry. Focus, Eun.

I try to clear my mind. To keep the green fire going, I’d had to concentrate, pour my attention onto the flame in my palm. Could this be similar? The door. I just have to see what’s behind it.

The world moves. Not my feet, not the floor, the entire ground seems to shift beneath me and it takes every ounce of willpower I have to not panic, which might increase the disorientation or pull me out of the vision altogether. I pass through the barrier like walking through mist. The edges of my vision are dark. I can’t see the walls and the shapes in the room are vague, ghostly, not that there’s much to look at. Superimposed like a papery film over the flowers at my feet and the bloodstone in my hand is a strange, circular symbol drawn onto the concrete floor of the room- no, the prison cell. The little girl sits directly over this symbol.

Her legs are pulled to her chest, face buried against her knees, a curtain of bedraggled, knotted hair hiding her expression. She sits completely, eerily still.

So Munhee was telling the truth. Halsahm is being kept in the bunker. But-

The girl twitches. A chill crawls up my spine.

Eun? Is that you?

That voice.

Her curtain of hair shifts slightly. My thoughts swim, getting murky.

You’ve come to see me.

“Get out,” I whisper, registering but unable to comprehend why my own voice sounds like it’s simultaneously muffled, yet coming through a tunnel.

But Eun, you’re the one who’s in my room.

Her head snaps up. Crimson eyes. A piercing scream fills my ears. I’m not sure if it’s mine or hers or just a side effect of whatever is going on and me collapsing, but I hit the ground hard, the bloodstone dropping into the sea of purple flowers.

“Hey. You alive down there?”

My eyelids flutter open to find Jimin bent over me, looking more annoyed than concerned.

I sit up slowly, the trees at the edge of the clearing blurring in and out of focus. The skin beneath my nose feels wet and I reach up to wipe at it, puling my hand back to find blood. My voice wavers, “Why do I feel like I got hit by a car?”

“I punched you.”

“You what?”

“You were whispering nonsense and your eyes rolled back. Then you started chanting some crap like ‘Halsham,’ which is never really good. So I punched you.”

I tap the length of my finger against the bottom of my nose again, “There wasn’t a better way to get my attention?”

Jimin shrugs, crossing his arms, “Probably. But it’s been seventeen minutes and I want to sleep.”

There’s a part of me that wants to hit him back, punch him hard enough that all my frustration at his brashness and coldness could finally have an outlet. Yet I would never do it. Not because I’m afraid of retaliation, but because I couldn’t. I refuse to be that type of person.

He doesn’t offer to help me up, but I don’t expect him to. I get to my feet and wobble for a moment, the ground tilting, making me shake my head to clear it. My shoulder aches. Sliding the collar of my shirt a bit to the side, I notice the deep red mark of a fist sized bruise.

Jimin had punched my shoulder. Smart. There will be less questions that way. But what about the nose bleed? Maybe a side effect of divination? Or… the image of those vividly red eyes crawls to the front of my mind.

How real was that interaction? I hadn’t actually been in that hallway or that room. Jimin and I are (dare I guess) miles from the bunker. And yet. I stare at the drying blood on my hand.

“Okay, get your stuff. Let’s go.”

I don’t complain, following his instructions, picking up my bag and scouring the Hepaticas for the bloodstone. As soon as I find it, I drop it into my backpack and walk over to Jimin, climbing onto his back.

He doesn’t transform.

His skin feels pleasantly warm, even through the material of my sweater, and he smells of the forest and slightly of sweat.

“Why Hepaticas?”

I barely hear the question, but don’t waste his time by asking him to repeat it, “I don’t know really… strong smells help me concentrate and I just like them I guess.”

Jimin grunts in acknowledgement and starts walking, the telltale cracking of expanding bones permeating through the trees. I close my eyes and try not to focus on the strange sensation of rapidly growing muscle and hair brushing against me. As we make the journey back to the bunker, I can only hope that Jungkook didn’t wake up while I was gone.

✩✩✩♔✩✩✩

EOPQ 21: More of a curious question this time... why did you start reading this series?? 😊

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

Support me/Donate and get some super rad 😎 rewards

Much love ~🐰 xx

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

100 notes · View notes