Chapter Text
Outside the town of Falls Creek, down a gravel road called Willowbark Way, lives a witch and his familiar. Here autumn is dying, bowing his gold crowned head to his ice robed sister. The earth sings a song of slumber, of peace and rest. The wheel turns and brings with it cold days and colder nights, bare limbed trees and pale skies, the wheel turns and the world prepares to be born anew, carried on the backs of swans flying south, on the winds that blow from the north and carry portents of frost.
Jimin is curled up in a blanket, an old quilt that Hyun had made Jeongguk out of his baby clothes once he’d grown out of them. It smells of dried lavender and cedar, having been tucked away in a chest in the attic until Jimin had uncovered it one quiet September afternoon while exploring the space with the witch. He is watching the sun settle on the western horizon, the sky interlaced with a criss-cross of bare limbed oak and elm and dark pine. Streaks of delicate orange and gold clouds stretch across the pale sky, and to the east the very first hint of stars are beginning to emerge. It is silent, save for the sound of a late flying flock of geese, cutting across the sky in loose formation, their cries echoing through the gathering dusk. There is no wind to disturb the forest, it is cold, calm, and quiet.
Until the tell-tale sound of a motorcycle breaks the stillness, its distant rumble growing nearer with every passing moment. Jimin’s eyes light up at the sound, and he tosses the blanket aside in order to rush to the kitchen, pulling out a meal he had prepared earlier in anticipation for Jeongguk’s return. They had converted a corner of the kitchen into a little nook, just big enough for the two of them to share a meal, and it was a vast improvement over the dining room with its dark colors and imposing aura. He darts back and forth, setting out the food in covered dishes, arranging plates and silverware to his liking, humming happily to himself the entire time.
His smile grows into a grin when he hears the motorcycle's engine cut and the quiet returns, pleased with his little surprise and the fact that he gets to share it with Jeongguk.
Once everything is set up, Jimin slips out the front door and practically flies across the lawn to where Jeongguk is currently taking off his helmet. He has just enough time to set it aside before Jimin launches himself at him. Without hesitation Jeongguk catches him, laughing at how immediately Jimin starts to purr once he’s being held.
Jimin can’t help himself, tucks his face into Jeongguk’s neck to scent him, and is immediately surrounded by the witches own, unique scent of flower and herbs and warm, dry grass.
Jimin typically isn’t clingy, he’s a cat, after all, but the bond changed things and sometimes being apart from his witch is harder than he’d like to admit. Jeongguk gets it, feels the same way, even if neither of them directly address it. They don’t need to, not really, they just have an unspoken understanding now, a result of their bond, as well as how in tune they are with each other.
“Missed you too, Kitten,” Jeongguk presses a kiss into Jimin’s dark hair, then pulls back, “Where are your shoes?” he asks, faint reproach in his voice.
Jimin pulls back enough to look up into Jeongguk’s warm brown eyes, “What are shoes?”
“Gods above,” the witch mutters, “Just because you run around barefoot in cat form doesn’t mean you should do it all the time — it’s barely forty degrees out here!” Without waiting for a response, Jeongguk lifts Jimin off his feet and starts stomping back toward the front door, steadfastly ignoring Jimin’s attempts to wiggle free, “And you left the front door open? All the heat will get out!”
“I was excited!” Jimin protests, pushing at Jeongguk’s shoulders in a futile attempt to be put back down, “I missed you!”
“I was gone for what? Six hours?” Jeongguk says as he enters the house and kicks the door gently closed behind him. He slowly lowers Jimin to the floor, but doesn’t remove his hands from around his waist, instead keeping him close and looking down at him with fond amusement, “What am I going to do with you, huh?” he asks before leaning down to press a kiss to the tip of Jimin’s nose.
“Whatever you want?” Jimin asks with an innocent smile.
Jeongguk growls softly, “Whatever indeed, Kitten,” he says as he nuzzles into Jimin’s neck.
Jimin twists away from the witch, struggling to escape his hold as he protests, “Your face is so cold! Stop!” he dissolves into laughter, becoming boneless as he does, held up only by the strength of Jeongguk’s arms, “Come into the kitchen, I made you dinner,”
“It was my turn to cook,” Jeongguk says once he finally relents, a little frown on his face.
Jimin waves his protest away, “Yes, but you’ve been working all day, and I spent most of mine at home, it’s not a big deal,” he helps the witch take of his jacket and waits while he pulls off his boots before taking his hand and dragging him into the kitchen, “You can cook tomorrow to make up for it if you want.”
“I would,” Jeongguk replies, “I can’t have you outdoing me when it comes to how much we spoil each other.”
Jimin laughs as he slides into the nook, “This isn’t a competition, Kookie,” he chides gently, but Jeongguk just glares at him in mock disagreement.
“Says you,” he replies as Jimin uncovers their dinner. The witches eyes light up as he looks at what Jimin has prepared; he’s been learning Korean cooking from Hyun. As a third generation Korean American, Jimin hadn’t picked up a lot of traditional recipes from his own family, so he happily took lessons from Jeongguk’s mother (with Lark at their side through it all).
“Is that Kal-Guksu?” Jeongguk asks.
Jimin nods, “And there’s braised burdock root, too,” he says as he uncovers a second dish.
Jeongguk groans happily and begins to serve them both, a little angry frown on his face as he takes his first bite, “This is amazing, might even be better than my moms.”
“Oh gods, don’t tell her that,” Jimin says, “She’d be so offended.”
Jeongguk laughs, “I doubt it, she’d probably just gloat about what a fantastic teacher she is.”
They spend the rest of the meal catching up with each other, exchanging little stories about their day. Jeongguk spent his in town, helping Namjoon build a new display for the store, while Jimin started his off with baking and deliveries to Hobi’s, making red velvet cupcakes and crescent moon cookies dusted in powdered sugar and silver luster dust and a Buche de Noel decorated with little meringue mushrooms and sugared cranberries.
❄️ ❄️ ❄️
It’s full dark outside by the time they are finished eating, and they do the dishes side by side in soft silence, comfortable and happy in each other’s presence, before retiring to the living room. Jeongguk stretches out on the couch, making space between his legs for Jimin to lay down in, and they spend the rest of the evening reading, the television ignored in favor of their books and each other.
“Do you think it will snow soon?” Jimin asks after a while, his eyes trained on the window though he can only see darkness through the glass.
“It’s not supposed to,” Jeongguk replies, pushing his glasses a little higher up on his nose. Jimin turns away from his vigil to watch his witch fondly. He recalls the first time he saw Jeongguk wearing his glasses, and how he had been slightly embarrassed, until Jimin had kissed him breathless and dragged him to bed, insisting as they climbed the stairs that the glasses should stay on.
Jimin sighs, “But I want it,” he narrows his eyes and goes back to staring, as if his will alone can change the weather. After a while though he sighs again and gives up on his watch, rolls onto his stomach and presses his cheek against Jeongguk’s chest. He’s asleep within minutes, though every exhale is a breathy purr, all soft and rumbling and content, and if Jeongguk could purr he’s certain he would be doing the same. He reaches up and pulls a blanket from where it’s folded on the back of the couch, careful to not jostle Jimin as he uses a little brush of magic to spread it over them both. He then uses his power to keep his book aloft while he reads, so that both arms are free to wrap around his familiar in a loose hold.
They stay like that until the fire is near dead and the night is dark and deep, and Jeongguk is thanking his lucky stars — individually and by name, for the blessing he holds against his chest. He has never wanted for much, and there was a time where he would have claimed to have no interest in love or a familiar. But fate is funny, sometimes handing out things that are unasked for, as if to prove that it was what was needed all along.
Later, he carries Jimin to bed, cradled against his chest and pressing sleepy, languid kisses to his jaw as Jeongguk navigates the staircase. They settle in for the night, curled up around each other with no real beginning or end, a tangle of limbs and love and magic bonds, and endless knot of adoration and soft devotion.
Jeongguk has never been one for holidays, but his final thought as he drifts into the dreaming is that everything seems to shine a little brighter with Jimin at his side. And from the way the stars sparkle in the midnight sky, the heavens are in agreement.
❄️ ❄️ ❄️
The next morning dawns bright and cold, and Jimin has a terrible time coaxing Jeongguk out of bed. Gentle whispers and soft touches result in nothing, so he resorts to pressing kisses to his naked back, following the path of his spine, lingering on the muscles on his shoulders, nuzzling and purring until finally Jeongguk blinks awake, a tired frown on his face. Jimin tries to pull back, but strong arms come up to grab him before he can escape the mess of blankets and pillows that their bed becomes every night, and they don’t actually make it out of bed until nearly an hour later.
Jeongguk makes them breakfast, bacon and eggs and toast (on honey oat bread, homemade, of course), while Jimin pads barefoot around the house. He’s usually barefoot, something Jeongguk chides him for on colder nights, but he really doesn’t like the feeling of socks, so he just smiles and tucks his feet under himself when they sit, in the hopes his witch says nothing about how cold his toes are probably getting. The fond look of exasperation Jeongguk gives him says he noticed, but Jimin just smiles and eats his breakfast, pleased with himself.
Afterwards they run errands, starting off with delivering the day’s baked goods to Hobi, who greets them with his usual happy smile, looking far too awake for a Wednesday morning. Taehyung is nowhere to be seen, but Yoongi is there, curled up at his favorite table near the little stove that warms the front of the restaurant. He greets Jeongguk with a sleepy wave and bumps noses with Jimin when he leans down to give the other hybrid a hug, but he’s not awake enough for actual conversation, so they leave him to enjoy the rest of his morning in peace.
He and Tae moved here not long ago, convinced by Jimin and Hoseok to abandon their lives in Philadelphia and relocate to Falls Creek, not that it had taken much arguing. They had visited many times since the fateful Halloween party two autumns ago, having managed to snag Hoseok’s attention enough to convince the Half Fae that giving a long distance relationship a try was a fantastic idea. Except that they had all fallen in love with each other and being apart became difficult — so difficult that Hobi had invited the other two to move in with him, and they had listened.
After dropping off the deliveries there, they continue on to The Archive and Apothecary, where Namjoon is putting the finishing touches on the display he and Jeongguk had spent the previous day building. They drop off their deliveries and help Joon around the shop before being interrupted by Seokjin, who appears with lunch and a devious glint in his eye as he flips the sign to “closed” and shoos them out the door with a wink and smirk before rounding on his boyfriend.
They head home, but their day is far from over; they make a quick lunch then bundle up before heading outside, little shears and thick gloves and baskets in hand. The woods are gray and muted brown, but there are flashes of color to be found in the branches as scarlet cardinals and yellow goldfinches move from tree to tree, their chattering cries the only sound other than that of their feet as they trudge through the leaf litter and into the forest.
“I hope it snows soon,” Jimin says, his voice a bit muffled by the scarf that is wrapped around his neck.
“Oh?” Jeongguk asks, “I thought you didn’t like the cold?”
“I hate it,” Jimin agrees, “But I love snow,”
Jeongguk shakes his head, a fond smile on his lips, “My little contradictory Kitten,” he says, hooking an arm around Jimin’s bundled waist and pressing a kiss to his temple, “Let’s get going, the day is already more than half over, and we might have to go far afield to find enough mistletoe.”
Everything around them seems to exist in a sort of limbo, the color of fall has been leached away by cold and frost, and the world is now painted in shades of muted browns and grays. Jimin finds himself missing spring, even with his hopes of snow; the world is so much more alive then, every inch of the forest vibrant and thrumming with energy, with change. Winter is a time for rest, for slumber and for dreaming.
They walk deep into the woods, following old trails they both know by heart. Past the creek that gave the town its name, past fallen logs dense with turkey tail mushrooms and shaggy moss, under half-fallen trees and through faded, sage green meadows that border little bogs. Jimin still marvels at how much the forest changes from day to day, let alone from season to season. Having spent so long in the city, far removed from nature and all its beauty, he had forgotten what it was like to wake up, look out the window, and have deer grazing in the yard, or to see birds building a nest.
Now, with Jeongguk, he is much more in tune with nature and the passing of the seasons. They spend almost all their free time in the warmer months outside, gardening, foraging, or sometimes just being still, soaking in the green light of the woodlands and basking in the presence of one another. Life is quiet and good, Jimin is happier than he’s ever been; and to think, it was only a few seasons ago that he had been convinced he’d never take a witch for a lover again.
Jeongguk had changed that, changed everything really. With his calm determination and his unfaltering love, with the way he was always gentle and patient, supportive and kind. Past-Jimin would have never felt comfortable enough to purr in the presence of another, would have been ashamed of his need to scent, to nest, would have suppressed the urge to tear around the house at two in the morning until he was breathlessly demanding to be carried back to bed.
Here, with his witch, Jimin is safe, he is loved, and most of all he is respected — as both cat and human.. Jeongguk never questioned his ability to do anything, if he voiced concern for Jimin it was always worded in a way that left no room for misunderstandings, and never hinted at being condescending. In return Jimin loved so fiercely and completely that sometimes it felt like a flame, blazing just below the ephemeral layers of his skin. He always thought he was jealous by nature, but he never felt that way with Jeongguk, and it occurred to him several months into their relationship that the only reason he had believed that about himself was because Hyoseop had fed his insecurities, had goaded him into it by bragging about being approached and hit on. Jealousy might be a natural part of human emotion, but it was unnecessary when trust was at play.
He admits to himself that he is a little possessive of Jeongguk, but he keeps it to himself and chalks it up to his feline instincts and their need to let everyone know, proudly, that this is his witch, his love, and no one else's.
Jeongguk lets go of his hand long enough to climb over a log, and turns to help Jimin do the same, only to have him clear it with easy grace, a little smile on his face when he reaches out and takes his hand again, “Thank you,” he says.
“But you didn’t need my help,” the witch replies.
“Maybe not right then,” Jimin says as they continue their walk, “But that doesn’t mean I’m not grateful to you for offering,”
They walk for a good ten minutes before they are deep enough in the woods to find what they are looking for. Holly is a common plant, and Jeongguk has plenty of it growing in his yard, as it acts as an anchor to the warding spells that encircle his house. But mistletoe is a little harder to come by, especially since Jeongguk has been culling it from the woods every winter for several years.
They find it eventually, crowning the tops of bare limbed oaks in dark green clusters, little bursts of white berries all nestled within. There’s nothing closer to ground level, so they press onward, but every tree they come to is the same, until finally Jimin tugs Jeongguk’s hand, indicating they should stop.
“What if I just shifted and climbed up there?” he asks, peering up at the branches with narrowed eyes.
Jeongguk raises an eyebrow, “Do you want to?”
Jimin shrugs, “I don’t mind.”
“That’s not what I asked,” Jeongguk says, his eyes sincere, “It’s a matter of want, and if you’d rather not, then you don’t have to.”
Jimin rises up on the tips of his toes, pressing a kiss to Jeongguk’s cold cheek, “Love,” he says, “I want to.”
Jeongguk looks down at him with his dark gaze, all soft and fond, and reaches out to push Jimin’s black hair from his face, his palms warm despite the chill in the air, “Okay, Kitten, shift quick though, it’s so cold.”
Jimin nods and takes a half step back, not bothering to get undressed. A moment later and where a man once stood there is instead a wriggling mass of clothes that Jimin emerges from with the help of his witch, little head popping out from the folds of his scarf to blink up at Jeongguk, who smiles down at him and gives his ears a gentle tug, “Too cute,” he says with a fond chuckle.
“ Yes,” Jimin meows, “I am.”
Jeongguk laughs as Jimin trots over to the tree and launches himself at its trunk, scaling it with practiced ease. When he’d first begun to shift, trees were an insurmountable obstacle, but determination and the occasional all-consuming need to scale vertical surfaces were both excellent tutors, and Jimin was a swift and sharp learner. A half a moment later, he is among the bare limbs of the oak, padding along the length of a limb towards the dark clusters of mistletoe.
He can feel his witch’s worry through their bond, but Jimin is too confident for concern. He carefully hooks his claws into where the mistletoe clings to the wood, pulling until it gives up its hold and falls to the ground. Several more bundles of it are culled before he is satisfied, but he feels Jeongguk’s concern grow sharper, and he perhaps might be up a little higher than is wise. So Jimin begins to descend, pouring his little body from limb to lower limb, until he has returned to the lowest branch.
“ Catch me ,” Jimin meows down at his witch, who looks up at him, all wide eyed with worry, and before he can protest, Jimin jumps, knowing with his whole heart that Jeongguk will catch him every time, no matter what.
He lands safely in his outstretched arms, claws sheathed and already purring, “Gods, but you’ll give me a heart attack one of these days,” Jeongguk murmurs as he brings Jimin closer to his face and presses a kiss to the tip of his nose, “I truly had no idea what I was signing up for with you.”
“ No one ever does with cats, ” Jimin assures him, “ It is part of our charm .” Jeongguk laughs and settles him on his back in the crook of one arm and Jimin blinks up at him, “ Can I stay like this ?” he asks, “ Carry me in your coat ?”
“I’m not sure I know how to say no to you, in whatever form you’re in,” Jeongguk admits as Jimin nestles into the confines of his jacket until only his face peeks out, and that’s where he stays for the rest of their sojourn, occasionally scaling trees for more mistletoe, but mostly observing, watching the woods with keen eyes, warm and safe and nestled near his witches heart. They keep each other warm, they keep each other safe.
❄️ ❄️ ❄️
Harry Gregson-Williams: From Western Woods to Beaversdam
Jeongguk keeps a close eye on the woods as they walk home. It’s been a long day and they are both tired, he can feel Jimin’s weariness through their bond, but he knows that Jimin is awake too, eyes trained on the growing shadows around them. They’ve gone farther afield than they typically do on their rambling walks, far enough that the forest is denser, darker, full of wilder things than fox or bear or badger. He knows there are eyes unseen watching them as they return, so he sticks to the narrow paths and game trails, and doesn’t linger overlong in any one place.
A rustling in the bushes up ahead, however, gives him pause. He comes to a stop at the edge of a small clearing, and though his vision is good even in the dark, he can’t discern what it is that’s making the noise. Jimin has gone very still in his makeshift carrier, peering from between the v of his jacket with wide green eyes, “Do you see anything?” Jeongguk whispers and at first Jimin does not reply, but then he heaves a heavy sigh and flops back against Jeongguk’s chest.
“It’s the fox ,” he says, with a glance heavenward as if asking for patience.
Jeongguk frowns, “The one that tried to eat you?”
“Yes. That one .” Jimin replies. There’s a quiet yip from the bushes and he sticks his head back out in order to reply, “ Only one time is still one too many ,” he says, “ All it takes is one eating, no one returns from being dinner. ”
A pair of bright yellow eyes blink up at them from the shadows, then the fox steps forward. It’s fluffier now that winter is truly here, its coat thick and gray, its tail swishing like a fencer's blade behind it. It sits down on the path in front of them and looks to the left and to the right, before looking back at Jimin and giving another small yip.
“ Of course there are darkling things in the forest ,” Jimin says, “ There always are. ”
The fox cocks its head to the side, a slow smile curling the edges of its lips. Jimin sniffs disdainfully, “ I have been scared a total of four times in my life, I will not start being afraid more just because a fox that tried to murder me has decided to lurk and be cryptic .”
“Jimin, what is it saying?” Jeongguk asks, wishing not for the first time that their bond allowed him to understand animals the same way Jimin does.
Jimin heaves a little sigh and looks up at him, “ Vaguely threatening things that it will not elaborate on when asked, ” he looks back down at the fox, “ Am I wrong ?”
The fox makes a sound similar to a laugh, and nods, “ I am not surprised ,” Jimin mutters, and if it weren’t for the late hour and the mildly distressing tone of the conversation, Jeongguk would be amused. Jimin shifts his weight until his forepaws are braced against the zipper of the jacket and looks down his nose at the fox, “ We are going home now, good job not trying to eat me, my witch would be upset ,”
“Yes,” Jeongguk agrees quickly, “Though upset isn’t quite the right word.”
The fox yips again and turns its back on them, but it’s not until the woods are quiet again that Jimin fully relaxes. “It is a very rude fox,” he sniffs, “ I wonder if they are all rude, or if that one was just raised poorly.”
“Jimin, what did it say, is there something we need to worry about?” Jeongguk asks as he shifts his hold on the baskets so that both of them are clutched in one hand.
“ No ,” Jimin says as he settles back down, Jeongguk waits for him to elaborate, but the little shifter does no such thing, just curls up so only his eyes are visible, and continues to watch the woods. He forgets sometimes how ambiguous Jimin can be in cat form, which shouldn’t be surprising, as no feline is ever forthcoming with things they feel are unimportant, which Jeongguk has realized after being with the hybrid for so long, is nearly everything. Jimin in his human form is bubbly, bright, full of caring and concern for those around him. Jimin in cat form is blunt, honest, fierce, and concerned only about Jeongguk.
The witch finds that he likes both sides of his familiar, so he never complains. Jimin will tell him if he feels it’s necessary, though Jeongguk will most likely have to wait until he is human once more before he finds out the details of the conversation.
The sun is nearly below the horizon by the time they see the back porch light glowing through a tangle of tree limbs. There is a wind rising, barely there, indecisive and cold, coming from several directions at once, as though it has yet to choose where it wishes to go. The fading day leaves streaks of brilliant orange behind the tangle of elm and oak and pine, and the smell of woodsmoke from their own dwindling hearth is sharp in the crisp air.
Jimin pours himself out from the confines of Jeongguk’s jacket, landing with light feet to lead the way through the back yard and onto the porch, where he turns to blink up at Jeongguk with his wise green gaze. It occurs to Jeongguk, not for the first time, how much he likes the life they lead, and how he hopes that nothing will try to come between it and them.
“ I feel your worry, ” Jimin says, tail lashing, “ but we are strong, stronger now that we are bonded ,” he stretches languidly, little spine arching low, claws reaching out, white and fierce, “T here is nothing to worry about when we have each other .”
“I know,” Jeongguk replies, “I know.”
Jimin nods, “ Good, now please open the door, it is cold .”
Jeongguk shakes his head fondly, sets their baskets aside and does as he is asked. Jimin shoots inside, stopping so suddenly that Jeongguk trips a little to avoid stepping on him, then promptly rolls onto his back, wriggling on the rug they keep in front of the door. The witch watches, amused, as he lays there with all four paws in the air; his eyes are closed and he’s purring loudly, but just as suddenly as it began, it stops. Jimin flips back over onto his feet and races off toward the stairs, “ See you in the shower ,” he yowls before the sound of him bounding up the stairs to the second floor carries back down to Jeongguk, who shakes his head again and begins to unlace his boots, a fond smile on his face.
He really is the luckiest witch in the world, he thinks to himself before he locks the back door and goes to follow his familiar upstairs.
Outside, there are things in the wood that are waiting, watching, planning, plotting.
It is not time yet.
The veil must be thin.
But there is no need to hurry such things, there will be many sunrises and sunsets before the time is right. There will be the passing of seasons and the changing of the stars, there will be time.
There will be time.
❄️ ❄️ ❄️
Loreena McKennit: In the Bleak Midwinter
Jimin wakes up to gray morning light hidden behind clouds. He peers out their bedroom window, squinting his sleep blurred eyes as he tries to discern whether or not snow has begun to fall.
“It rained for about an hour or so,” Jeongguk says from behind him, “and it was icy, close to snow, but not quite,”
Jimin sighs and rolls onto his back, he flings an arm over his eyes and sighs dramatically, “I just want to have a snowball fight and make snow angels and a snowman, is that too much to ask?”
“You’re my snow angel,” Jeongguk says before leaning down to leave a trail of kisses on Jimin’s arm.
He lifts it slightly so he can raise an eyebrow at Jeongguk, “Biblically accurate angels were terrifying.”
“And you’re not?” Jeongguk asks.
“Hmm… good point,” Jimin uncovers his eyes and smothers a massive yawn, “What’s on the schedule today?”
“We’re making wreaths and talismans for the shop, then we’ve got a potion order to fill, after that the day is ours,” Jeongguk sits up and the blankets fall away from his chest, a little red and criss crossed from creases in the sheets, but still mouthwateringly attractive. Jimin fights the urge to bite it by biting his own lip, dragging his gaze from navel to neck, but Jeongguk just chuckles and pats his cheek gently, “Come on Kitten, there’s work to be done.”
“Yeah, but like… what if we postpone it?” Jimin asks, even as he swings his lower half out of bed and drags a hand through his dark hair, “What if we just stay in bed?”
“Then we’d have to deal with Namjoon calling us around one, wondering why the potion that was ordered hasn’t been delivered, which would then entail us explaining that the potion had in fact, never been made,” Jeongguk throws a shirt at Jimin, who snatches it out of the air and holds it aloft.
“This is one of yours, right?” he asks, when Jeongguk nods Jimin grins and pulls it over his head, “Thank you,”
Jeongguk smiles before pulling a shirt of his own on. He knows Jimin likes to wear his things, especially if they had already been worn previously. They head downstairs and into the kitchen, going about their morning routine in comfortable quiet, only occasionally talking out of necessity. Jeongguk isn’t one for idle chatter, and Jimin isn’t much of a morning person, their two personalities combining well as the sun clears the horizon and bathes the world in cold December light.
The lawn is frozen and glitters beneath the growing light, all rainbow crystals and twinkling lights. There’s a small herd of deer at the edge of the property, foraging slowly, their breath coming out in billows of fog as they move from one patch of grass to the next.
It’s a far cry from the city, and Jimin finds himself endlessly glad that he moved, for more reasons than one.
“So, about last night,” Jeongguk says as he sets down his cup of coffee and settles in across from Jimin, having made a simple breakfast for them both of eggs, toast, and sausage.
“What about last night?” Jimin asks, wracking his memory for what might have happened, “Oh!” he says when realization hits him, “You mean the fox?”
“Yes, what did it say?”
Jimin resists the urge to make a joke, well aware that it would most likely go right over his witch’s head, and shrugs, “Cryptic nonsense really;- that there are things in the woods watching us, which like, we already knew? That they’re waiting for the turn of the season, which yes — everything in the forest is waiting for spring except me because I’m waiting for snow, I honestly can’t tell if it was being an obtuse jerk for the sake of it, or if it really thought it’s vague yet ominous threats would make an impression on me.
“Nothing makes an impression on me, I’m a cat,” he concludes as he pours a splash of milk in his coffee.
He glances up and see Jeongguk watching him with the fondest expression, his chin propped up in his hands as he smiles, “You’re amazing, you know that?” he asks, and Jimin can’t help but start purring, though it’s very faint, he just likes being complimented, and praise from Jeongguk is the best praise of all.
He has come far in accepting himself and what it means to be a hybrid. There were so many years where he tried to suppress his instincts, and he almost never shifted, only doing it when the urge became too strong to ignore. Now he shifts whenever he feels like it, urge or no, and he trusts his instincts to guide him, when previously he’d shut them down and ignored them.
He knows his brain works differently in feline form, how could it not? But just because it’s different doesn’t mean it’s bad, or wrong.
They finish their breakfast, clean up the kitchen, and head into the work room, where they pass the morning crafting wreaths and garlands and little talismans with what they had harvested the day before. The air is heavy with the scent of pine and holly that Jeongguk brings in from the yard, shot through with the earthy scent of mistletoe, highlighted by a medley of other smells that are soaked into the very walls of the room itself. Quiet conversation makes the time go by faster, both of them waking up enough to talk at length about whatever comes to mind. It’s comfortable, it’s easy, it’s everything Jimin needed, but hadn’t known until it was his.
❄️ ❄️ ❄️
Alan Shoesmith: Snow and Stars Align
Once the garlands are complete they get to work on the potion; an order from a concerned mother whose child was suffering from sleeplessness due to chronic nightmares.
“Once it’s cool enough we’ll get it bottled and I’ll head into town,” Jeongguk says as he carefully measures out powdered lavender, “Do you want to come with me?”
“I want to, but…” Jimin trails off, looking outside at the cold gray woods. An involuntary shiver ran down his spine, he could practically sense how cold it was out there.
“You don’t have to,” Jeongguk reminds him, “It’s not like it will be a very exciting trip…” his eyes light up as an idea comes to him suddenly, “What if you come with me in cat form? I can keep you in my jacket and you’d stay warm,”
“Oh,” Jimin replies, the idea is very tempting, mostly because he enjoys being very small and tucked away in a general sense, and he likes it even more if it means being carried around by Jeongguk, but they typically only do it when it’s just the two of them, “Won’t everyone think it’s weird?”
Jeongguk cocks his head to the side, like he’s never once thought about what other people might think. The chances of that being the case are high, since Jeongguk is very self assured and at ease with who he is. It encourages Jimin to be the same, but sometimes he still falters slightly when it comes to how other people view him.
And of course Hyoseop would have never made an offer like this.
Jimin counts out seven valerian blossoms and tips them into the cauldron.
“If anyone thinks it’s strange for a witch and his familiar to be out together, they must live under a rock… or in Utah,” Jeongguk replies, he taps out a small amount of amethyst dust onto the scales, going slowly until he reaches the exact amount he needs, “Can you hand me the butterfly wings?” he asks, holding out a large hand. Jimin passes him the little blue glass jar full of colorful wings and Jeongguk takes out two, choosing them carefully. He bypasses the darker shades, picking out one that is pale green, the other white with just the faintest hint of dove gray. He drops them into the cauldron, and immediately it begins to change colors, the muddled mix of browns and greens swirling together and lightening before their eyes. Jimin focuses on sending his energy into Jeongguk as the witch stirs the potion, the faintest of purrs beginning because it feels so right to be here, to be doing this. The concoction grows paler by the moment as they pour their power and intention into it, until it is a light shade of delicate lavender, the steam unfurling from it opalescent and shimmering.
“Oh, that’s lovely,” Jimin says as he leans forward and looks down at it, only to have a tendril of steam curl up and directly into his face. Even the small amount was enough to have him swaying on his feet, a little yawn escaping his lips as Jeongguk wrapped a steadying arm around his waist and held him close.
“Careful, Kitten, or do you want to sleep the day away?”
“Mmm…” Jimin says, blinking past the wave of weariness that had settled over him, “No, I’d miss you,” he says without really thinking, then blushes and looks down, still not wholly used to how naturally he can admit to his attachment to his witch, nor accustomed to how accepting of it Jeongguk is.
“I’d miss you too,” Jeongguk replies so easily, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to admit to, as if there’s no shame in how much they like each other. Jimin blinks down at the blackberry brambles and rose vines that twist around Jeongguk’s wrists and up his arms, the little bees and butterflies that are hidden among the leaves and berries and rosehips, and he wonders how he got here. Black cats and the number thirteen — both considered unlucky by some, and yet here Jimin is, living a life he would have never dreamed of only a couple of years ago. He’s pulled from his thoughts by his witch pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Should we head into town together then, since we’d miss each other too much to be separated?”
The potion now complete, Jeongguk douses the flame beneath the cauldron and the two of them clean up the workroom, before heading into the kitchen for lunch.
Jimin nods, “Yeah…” he trails off, chewing on his lower lip in trepidation. He’s been putting off asking Jeongguk something that he’s been thinking about for weeks now, ever since Thanksgiving and the small but joyous dinner they had with Hyun and Lark. “Kookie?” he begins, a little uncertain and well aware that the witch will feel it through their bond.
“What’s up, Kitten?” Jeongguk asks from where he’s bent over in front of the open fridge.
“Okay, so… I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and it’s totally okay for you to say no because I know these sorts of things aren’t really, like… you? And I get that, so please don’t feel pressured, but I wanted to ask you because I think it would be really nice and fun and I’ve always wanted to do it, but I never had the chance-“
Jeongguk interrupts him as he crosses the room and takes Jimin by the shoulders, “Deep breath, you’re rambling,”
“I’m nervous!” Jimin says, though he takes the deep breath as commanded.
“Why are you nervous?” Jeongguk asks, fingertips brushing under his chin, “Have I ever given you reason to be?”
Jimin shakes his head, because the witch truly never has, but other people have, and it’s hard to forget what it’s like to have every question replied to with a weary sigh, to have every request treated like a bad idea and a burden, “No,” he says finally, then with another fortifying breath, “Would it be okay if we threw a Yule party… here? It wouldn’t have to be large… just Hobi and Yoongi, Tae, Joon, Seokjin, Hyun and Lark?”
Jeongguk smiles, “Is that all?”
“Um, yes?”
“Why don’t we invite Mark and Soobin, too?” Jeongguk replies, “And they can bring their girlfriends if they want,”
Jimin looks up from where he’d been staring at Jeongguk’s chest, eyes wide, “Wait —so you’re okay with it?”
“Of course I’m okay with it,” Jeongguk says, “What better way to celebrate the season than in good company?” he asks.
“I…” Jimin trails off, a little overwhelmed and a lot in love. Words fail him, so he just throws himself into Jeongguk’s arms instead, scenting him and purring happily until they are both breathless with laughter, “Okay, okay! Wow!” he says, pulling back in order to pepper the witches face with kisses, “Then we’ll start asking the others while we’re in town, then we can swing by the grocery store to pick up a few things for dinner and cookies.”
“And cookies?” Jeongguk asks.
“Yeah, I was thinking it might be nice to do gift boxes of baked goods,”
“People will love it,” Jeongguk says, then he grabs Jimin’s face, kisses him fiercely, and pulls back once they’re both a little breathless, “You still want to shift or would you rather stay in this form?”
Jimin would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit to a certain nervousness at the thought of being in cat form, exposed to the townsfolk and the idle gossip that went with them, but it’s not like his hybrid nature was a secret, if people knew him at all then they knew he was a shifter. He felt torn, but his indecision was what drove him to agree.
“I’ll shift and go with you,” he says after a moment's hesitation, but any doubt he might feel is wiped away in the face of Jeongguk’s glowing smile.
“It will be great,” the witch says, “You are so judgmental of others in your cat form, and your filter is almost nonexistent, I can’t wait to hear what you have to say about everyone.”
“Oh my god, I take it back,” Jimin drops his head in his hands and groans.
“I am my mother’s child,” Jeongguk says with a laugh and a shrug, “We should learn more Korean so we can talk trash about people like she and Lark do.”
Jimin shakes his head and smiles, endeared in spite of himself. He likes that Jeongguk likes every part of him, that he doesn’t seem to have a preference on which form Jimin spends his time in. He’s asked about it in the past, and Jeongguk had said that he appreciates the differences in Jimin’s demeanor, and enjoys his company no matter what. Both forms have their merits, he had pointed out, and Jimin deserved to be in whatever form he was most comfortable in at the time.
“It’s you,” Jeongguk had said, “It’s always you,” and he had pressed a kiss to Jimin’s forehead and went about his business as if he hadn’t changed Jimin’s world completely.
Like he wouldn’t keep changing it, every day, for the rest of their lives.