ext_118080 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
goodbyelover.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
writetomyheart2015-09-27 12:36 am
goodbyelover.livejournal.com) wrote in writetomyheart2015-09-27 12:36 am
Entry tags:
[Team Sonic] Disconnect
Because I am so deep into BTS hell, it's not even funny. Fuck my life. Werewolf AU (which like, is supposed to be Vmin/sugakookie but like everyone's kind of OT7, so there's that)
Word from here
Door closing behind him, Jimin hung back from the rest of the pack as they poured into the lower living room, crowing victory as they danced around Yoongi.’s tiny wolf form Winning the Summer Solstice games was huge for the pack, but Jimin wasn’t quite ready to join in as he watched Yoongi’s tail wagging, struggling to reconcile it with the things he’d seen earlier.
The thing was, Jimin knew what Yoongi was like. Yoongi didn’t stand on ceremony, told it like it was, and had never held anything back from Jimin before. But there was still a jump from grumpy, from blunt, from reticent, to the absolute brutality Jimin had just witnessed.
“You were amazing, hyung,” Jungkook whooped, dropping to his knees so Yoongi could scoot closer and start lapping at his face, and the sight would have been precious, treasured – Jungkook in his oversized sweater, Yoongi so diminutive and adoring – if not for the fact that half of Yoongi’s fur was matted in blood, and Jimin knew that most if it wasn’t his.
Truth came to light as Yoongi shifted against Jungkook’s chest, still covered in blood as he let out a tired, happy huff. “Damn,” he said, eyes crinkling as he looked up at the pack surrounding him. “Didn’t think I was gonna make it for a minute there.”
Minor cuts and bruises litter his body, but compared to the gashing wounds some of his opponents had… The only noticeably injury was the ugly, harsh bruising that circled his neck, small punctures on the side from where Chanyeol had tried to shake him into submission – he was already healing.
They didn’t get it, Jimin realized as the six boys continued to screech and celebrate. They didn’t get what it was like for him, still human by nature, to watch these games (games, they called it all, as if it was no different than basketball or poker). They didn’t know what it was like for him to watch Yoongi.
He slipped away, missing the way Taehyung stopped dancing to watch him leave, mouth twisting unhappily.
---
Honestly, he should have known that Yoongi would seek him out. Cleaned and bandaged, Yoongi padded into Jimin and Jin’s room an hour later. Dressed in Jungkook’s clothes (Jimin could smell it) Yoongi sighed as he leaned against the doorframe.
“You gonna be scared of me now?” he asked, ever so forward as Jimin avoided his gaze. “Because this is how things work around here. We told you that.”
“… How could you actually do that?” Jimin asked, because it was hard to grasp. Sure, Yoongi was rough around the edges, but he was tiny and sweet and caring and Jimin had seen him nearly rip someone’s throat out. He finally looked up, meeting Yoongi’s eyes. He was clean now, hair still damp from the shower, drowning in a band t-shirt and barefoot.
(Yoongi looked exhausted. Jimin wondered why he wasn’t already asleep with Jungkook.)
“It helps the pack,” Yoongi said with a shrug, fingernails clicking as his fingers flicked to and fro. “The higher we climb, the better it is for everyone.”
“You nearly murdered someone!”
Jimin could see it, the way Yoongi rolled those words back and forth in his head, replaying them again just in case. “It takes more than that to kill us,” he offered. “Besides, we’d be outcasted if I actually killed someone.” But he stopped when he saw that Jimin was still agitated, taking a step forward, catching himself when Jimin pressed closer to the opposite wall, and finally stepped back.
They sat there in silence, Jimin a jittery mess of concern (for some stranger? For himself? For… for Yoongi?)
Yoongi sighed against, taking another step back so he was in the hallway, letting the quiet thicken between them, like a wall.
“Please don’t be scared of me,” Yoongi whispered, voice carrying across the divide before he retreated, back to his own room, to let Jungkook lick his wounds.
Word from here
Door closing behind him, Jimin hung back from the rest of the pack as they poured into the lower living room, crowing victory as they danced around Yoongi.’s tiny wolf form Winning the Summer Solstice games was huge for the pack, but Jimin wasn’t quite ready to join in as he watched Yoongi’s tail wagging, struggling to reconcile it with the things he’d seen earlier.
The thing was, Jimin knew what Yoongi was like. Yoongi didn’t stand on ceremony, told it like it was, and had never held anything back from Jimin before. But there was still a jump from grumpy, from blunt, from reticent, to the absolute brutality Jimin had just witnessed.
“You were amazing, hyung,” Jungkook whooped, dropping to his knees so Yoongi could scoot closer and start lapping at his face, and the sight would have been precious, treasured – Jungkook in his oversized sweater, Yoongi so diminutive and adoring – if not for the fact that half of Yoongi’s fur was matted in blood, and Jimin knew that most if it wasn’t his.
Truth came to light as Yoongi shifted against Jungkook’s chest, still covered in blood as he let out a tired, happy huff. “Damn,” he said, eyes crinkling as he looked up at the pack surrounding him. “Didn’t think I was gonna make it for a minute there.”
Minor cuts and bruises litter his body, but compared to the gashing wounds some of his opponents had… The only noticeably injury was the ugly, harsh bruising that circled his neck, small punctures on the side from where Chanyeol had tried to shake him into submission – he was already healing.
They didn’t get it, Jimin realized as the six boys continued to screech and celebrate. They didn’t get what it was like for him, still human by nature, to watch these games (games, they called it all, as if it was no different than basketball or poker). They didn’t know what it was like for him to watch Yoongi.
He slipped away, missing the way Taehyung stopped dancing to watch him leave, mouth twisting unhappily.
---
Honestly, he should have known that Yoongi would seek him out. Cleaned and bandaged, Yoongi padded into Jimin and Jin’s room an hour later. Dressed in Jungkook’s clothes (Jimin could smell it) Yoongi sighed as he leaned against the doorframe.
“You gonna be scared of me now?” he asked, ever so forward as Jimin avoided his gaze. “Because this is how things work around here. We told you that.”
“… How could you actually do that?” Jimin asked, because it was hard to grasp. Sure, Yoongi was rough around the edges, but he was tiny and sweet and caring and Jimin had seen him nearly rip someone’s throat out. He finally looked up, meeting Yoongi’s eyes. He was clean now, hair still damp from the shower, drowning in a band t-shirt and barefoot.
(Yoongi looked exhausted. Jimin wondered why he wasn’t already asleep with Jungkook.)
“It helps the pack,” Yoongi said with a shrug, fingernails clicking as his fingers flicked to and fro. “The higher we climb, the better it is for everyone.”
“You nearly murdered someone!”
Jimin could see it, the way Yoongi rolled those words back and forth in his head, replaying them again just in case. “It takes more than that to kill us,” he offered. “Besides, we’d be outcasted if I actually killed someone.” But he stopped when he saw that Jimin was still agitated, taking a step forward, catching himself when Jimin pressed closer to the opposite wall, and finally stepped back.
They sat there in silence, Jimin a jittery mess of concern (for some stranger? For himself? For… for Yoongi?)
Yoongi sighed against, taking another step back so he was in the hallway, letting the quiet thicken between them, like a wall.
“Please don’t be scared of me,” Yoongi whispered, voice carrying across the divide before he retreated, back to his own room, to let Jungkook lick his wounds.