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The loud crack and sizzle should tell Jimin something, but he squeezes his eyes shut even tighter and keeps reciting the spell, channeling the magic in his core to spread to his fingertips. He feels the warmth under his skin, trying to burst out, but nothing more comes. He waits, and waits.
Silence. He huffs and opens his eyes to the charred wood on his bedroom floor, surrounded by dried herbs and the salt he threw. The candles he lit are blown out, no longer helping aid his spell. At this point, he’s not surprised. He should’ve known there was no chance he’d land this one, even after practicing it for the past year and a half. There’s about a dozen other blackened divots in his floor from his previous (unsuccessful) attempts. When it first happened, he went out and bought a colorful rug to throw over the evidence. He quickly stopped doing that after rug number 3, half the ground no longer visible.
“I should’ve been a gardener instead,” Jimin mutters to himself, beginning to clean up his supplies. “Tending to plants with water and sunlight, no magic necessary. A green thumb is all I’d need.”
Yeonghon, his familiar, emerges from underneath his bed as he continues talking out loud. His orange fur is easily spotted, and Jimin directs his semi-rant to the cat. “Is it too late to switch majors? Wouldn’t it be so much better to tend to the community garden all day? We’d be unstoppable, you and me. That greenhouse is perfect for napping, Yeong. You could sunbathe while I work.”
The familiar tilts his head, as if asking, really? We’re doing this again? Jimin sighs and plops down at his desk, defeated. “I know. It’s silly. I worked so hard the past years, just to give up? No way. This is ridiculous. I want to join the wisefolk and elders, like Yoongi and Hoseok hyung. I want to help the community, make it a better place. I want to guide students that were just like me, but how can I do that if I can’t even cast this simple spell? What if I don’t make it in, because my magic keeps failing?”
Yeonghon slinks over, briefly rubbing against Jimin’s ankle before hopping up on his desk. He sits quietly, observing Jimin and his mental state. They’ve been together since Jimin came of age, entering his teenage years; so if anyone understands him, it’s Yeonghon.
The cat lowers his head and nudges Jimin’s arm in an action of comfort. Their bond runs deeper than that of pet and owner, so when Jimin feels sad, Yeonghon physically feels it as well. They’re connected in ways witches and wiccans who weren’t destined for a familiar can’t comprehend.
“With graduation next semester, I don’t know what I’ll do,” Jimin speaks quietly, petting behind Yeonghon’s ears. His ginger fur matches that of Jimin’s own hair; twin flames. “Should I schedule a meeting with the elders?”
The familiar nods in a way that Jimin understands he’s voicing his agreement. “What if they tell me something I don’t want to hear?”
But you have to hear it.
Jimin hates that Yeonghon’s right. He’s come this far, hasn’t he? There’s little to be debated on now. He will set up a meeting with the board and seek their guidance on his magic. There are dozens of spells he can perform just fine, smaller, low-stake magic seems to work alright for him. It’s when he attempts a new spell he doesn’t know, or when he tries something particularly difficult, that his magic acts up. It’s uncontrollable, almost. He feels it drifting through his core, unattached to anything, and he has to try so hard to bring it up for the simplest tasks.
As a fourth year approaching his life outside of university, his career field and reaching established adulthood, he should be in full control of his magic by now. Even his younger brother, who is leaving grade school this year, has a good grasp of his powers and doesn’t struggle conjuring up the energy for new spells. Yoongi and Hoseok hyung were almost experts when they graduated, and were handpicked by the elders to assist in their designated sectors of the coven.
Jimin stares at the burnt wood, the wobbly circle his magic seared into the surface, and resigns himself to meeting with the board first thing tomorrow morning.
⋆ 𖤓 ⋆˚࿔
There’s little where Jimin goes that he doesn’t have a book in his hand. Even now, trotting past the morning workers on his way to his meeting, he has to catch himself from stumbling on any mislaid pavers. If his nose were any closer as he read, he’d bump it along the handmade pages.
He’s currently taking a class that examines the intersection of witchcraft and gender, and he finds himself so wrapped up in the assigned book that he can’t put it down. He felt the same way about magical linguistics, and rune mastery, and spirituality in witchcraft. Fairly, he’s been ecstatic about every bit of knowledge he could get while in university.
“One of these days, you’re going to trip and fall,” A voice comes from up ahead, and Jimin flips the page, finishing his sentence as he gets closer. “And who is going to catch you?”
Finally, Jimin bookmarks his place, gently shutting his book and looking up. He pushes his glasses higher and smiles at the man leaning against the elder house. “Hyung will, of course.”
Min Yoongi blankly stares before a smile fights its way onto his face. He scoffs, shaking his head. “If you’re so positive.”
”I am,” Jimin says. He’s known Yoongi since he was a baby, his family residing in the house across the path. Yoongi took him under his wing as they grew older, and was always watching out for him. It would be no different into adulthood. “Is everyone inside already?”
“More or less. You’ve requested to speak to the board?”
Jimin nods in confirmation. He’s suddenly nervous, although he’s familiar with the elders and wisefolk of his community. He feels a great amount of respect for them, and has a small shred of self-doubt in asking for their guidance.
“Is this about your magic? Are you okay?”
“I’m okay. I was just working on that spell again- you know the one. Another burnt hole in the floor. Any more and eomma will make me rebuild the house myself. I just…” Jimin sighs, twisting the sleeves of his knit sweater between his fingertips. “I need guidance on what to do. I’m nowhere near prepared enough with my magic to graduate and serve the community. I want to be ready.”
”You’re so smart, Jimin. I don’t know anyone smarter than you,” Yoongi assures.
Jimin begins to shake his head in protest, but Yoongi holds his hand out and continues speaking. “Which is why I’m glad you decided to seek counsel. I know your magic doesn’t cooperate the way it should by now. We’re going to need your contributions when you graduate, and reaching mastery in your spellwork and magic is necessary.”
”We’ve already been discussing solutions amongst ourselves,” Yoongi informs him, which somehow calms Jimin down slightly. He feels a dash of pride that the elders and wisefolk have him on their radar. “Everyone should be waiting inside now. Do you need a moment?”
”No, I’m good,” Jimin says, running his hands along his sweater and fixing it of any creases. Right before they enter the ornate doors, he grabs onto Yoongi’s cloak. “Thank you, hyung.”
Yoongi smiles without hesitance this time, fondly rubbing Jimin’s shoulder as he leads them inside. “Hyung will always catch you.”
⋆ 𖤓 ⋆˚࿔
“Park Jimin,” Joonhyuk, one of the main council members, says when they enter.
Jimin bows at the waist in greeting, holding it for a beat longer in respect. He’s faced with the elders and a handful of wisefolk, all seated in their assigned chairs to discuss. They motion for him to take his own seat, joining the circle.
This room in the council house is cozy, and casual. There’s rugs thrown around and a fire burning in the brick hearth, the members' chairs all mismatched and sporadically placed. Yoongi sits beside him, and Jimin can spot Hoseok a few feet away. Some of his nerves leave him the longer he breathes in the scent of apple crisp and cinnamon.
“How are you doing, darling?” Boksoon asks, an elder woman that’s been old since Jimin was a child. Her sweet smile is still the same, and her presence alone can calm a crowd.
“Good. But, a little unsure,” Jimin admits. “About what I came here to seek guidance for.”
”Your magic?” Comes another soft voice from the room, one of the wisefolk. Jimin nods in response, and little murmurs erupt around the room.
“Well, show us, then, darling,” Boksoon prompts, encouraging. Jimin didn’t think they would ask him to perform, he didn’t prepare at all, he’s going to fail again-
“Jimin?” Hoseok’s voice breaks through his worries. “It’s okay, we just want to assess in which ways your magic malfunctions so we can come to a solution. No need to stress.”
His hyung always has a way of soothing his nerves, so he takes a deep breath and prepares to cast the spell. He can feel the energy inside him, knows it’s there, but channeling it properly feels like a lost cause.
The spell ricochets just like it has been for the past year, this time hitting a spot on the wooden wall and scorching it a charcoal black. Immediately, there’s a murmur over the group. Jimin feels the sizzling in his fingertips die down, nowhere to put all that thrumming pressure.
“That’s quite a malfunction,” Joonhyuk says with a lilt of teasing. “But we’ve seen this before.”
“You have?”
Boksoon speaks up, her hand in the air in a quick dismissive gesture. “Oh, darling, of course we have. You lack a grounding point.”
“A grounding point?” Jimin asks. He’s read about it, but only in theory.
“Hm, you can feel your magic, can you not? It’s warm under your skin, a ball of energy in your chest, makes your heart race?” Boksoon pries, still gentle as always.
Jimin nods the affirmative, mind racing a mile a minute trying to conjure up everything he’s ever learned about this sector of magical healing.
“Some people have so much power, they simply can’t harness it all themselves. You need a point at which your soul is connected, and that can ground all of that energy inside of you. Your magic, when given a chance to be channeled, will flourish.”
There’s never been a moment in his life in which Jimin felt he lacked love and connection. He had two beautiful, loving parents, he’s had his closest hyungs since he was young, and Yeonghon ever since he came of age. He’s one of the few incredibly lucky ones, in terms of community. To not already have a grounding point doesn’t make sense.
“But- what about Yeonghon, my familiar? Shouldn’t he already be grounding me?”
Joohyuck nods, as if prepared for that question. “In some circumstances, this is the case. The familiar acts as the connection between magic and the earthly, but not always is this a strong enough grounding point. Sometimes, they are just meant to be your spiritual companion through life, and you must seek out your soulmate. This person and the bond you form will be exactly what you need.”
Jimin hasn’t put much thought into soulmates. He’s read all about them, has listened to the shared tales about forever love from the storytellers of their town, but never once has he put himself in that position. Most of his life has been dedicated to his studies, and he always assumed the rest would come in due time.
“What if I can’t find this person? I’ll never be able to control my magic?”
Boksoon chuckles, the crow’s feet by her eyes deepening. “You’ll find them, honey. Just when you’re meant to, they’ll be there.”
“Have no doubts of this, Jimin. You’ll know when your magic does,” Joohyuck reassures, the other wisefolk nodding in agreeance behind him.
There is little left to say after this, so Jimin bows once again and expresses his gratitude, promising to play an active role in his progress so he can one day join the community leaders. When Yoongi and Hoseok offer to walk him home, he declines, wanting to spend the trek organizing his thoughts.
He doesn’t even reopen the book he brought, too lost in wondering about a future where he doesn’t find his soulmate. He knows they told him not to worry, especially about this musing, but he has to try with all his might to dismiss it.
He will find his grounding point. There is no doubt. He repeats this like a mantra in his head, all the way home.
⋆ 𖤓 ⋆˚࿔
The townspeople are out and about, all working together for the winter solstice preparations. There’s still weeks to go, but the community finds it easier to start tying up loose ends earlier, rather than later. Their town has grown quite a bit over the last decade, and has a bustling population to feed and house now.
“They’ll finish the last row of homes down Mireu-gil soon, and then we’ll be called to lay protections,” Hoseok makes conversation, his toolbelt of herb bottles, pouches, and his silver dagger rustling as they walk. Jimin is always sort of lulled when he hears it, can identify his hyung coming from a mile away.
Yoongi hums, “That’s the sort of work we’d like you’d to help with, Jimin. Some of the elders are getting old enough that long treks around the community aren’t beneficial. By the vernal equinox, we’ll need more hands.”
Jimin watches his boots skid over the brick path they’re walking, filled with both excitement and apprehension. The chatter of people and lay of materials becomes muffled by the ringing in his ears.
“Hyung, I know what the elders said, but I’m having trouble believing it. I’m on such a time constraint, and if I don’t find this person to ground my magic, what will I do?” Jimin asks, focused intently on his footsteps. “There’s so much room for failure, but I can’t give-“
“Jimin!”
He was so absorbed in his worries and putting one foot in front of the other that he didn’t look up to see the man barreling towards them, holding a sack of building powder. The man rammed into his shoulder, the combined weight pushing him hard enough to tumble. Jimin fell bottom-first onto the ground, thankfully teetering close enough to the edge of the path that the dirt and wild grass somewhat pillowed his fall.
The other man didn’t fare as well as him, with the tie of his sack coming undone in the commotion and blowing thin dust all over on his way down. Even through the white layer of dirt, Jimin could recognize that face anywhere.
”Jeon Jeongguk!” Jimin exclaimed without thinking, shaking his head as he stood up and dusted off his pants. “Where are you going so quickly?”
Jeongguk, a year below him but a head taller, is someone Jimin avoids like his life depends on it. Which is incredibly difficult to do when he always seems to be everywhere. In his classes, playing sports with their university, helping with the monthly hunt, tending to the community gardens, teaching children on their nature trips, and what looks now to be, building houses.
He’s so irritatingly perfect, his pretty face and his kind demeanor charming everyone within sight. Unfortunately for Jimin, he always has it out for him. From the time they were kids playing in the schoolyard, Jeongguk has been yanking on Jimin’s cloak. Over the years, he couldn’t count on two hands how many times Jeongguk has targeted him. He’s been tripped, had drinks spilled on him, and even got a lock of his hair singed off by Jeongguk once during a training session in grade school.
Jimin decided long ago that if Jeongguk hates him so much, he won’t engage with him if he doesn’t have to. He considers himself warm and forthgoing, has never held much of a grudge on anyone if they don’t deserve it. Jeongguk has given him nothing but a laundry list of reasons to turn the other way. The younger is passionate and helpful to the rest of the community, but has never been able to utter more than a bucket of words to Jimin, barely even an apology for anything he’s done.
Jimin condemned himself to watching him in silence years ago.
”Jimin, it’s alright,” Yoongi intervenes, looking between the pair. Jeongguk is still splayed out on the ground, shaking the dust out of his curled hair. “It was an accident.”
Jimin stays quiet, trying not to look at Jeongguk stand and collect his things, especially not at the way his leather pants hug his thighs, or how the buttons of his linen shirt have popped open on the top.
Once Jeongguk has his sack (or what’s left in it) clutched in his arms, he bends at the waist and makes his move to leave quickly. He doesn’t even speak, letting Jimin huff in annoyance at being knocked over once again.
“I don’t know what his issue with me is,” Jimin says, starting the walk with his friends again. He doesn’t look back at where Jeongguk ran off to, even though he kind of wanted to. He has at least a sliver of self-preservation.
Hoseok chuckles, hands on his belt as he walks. “Yeah, because that’s totally what he has with you.”
Yoongi elbows him, and they share a look. Jimin doesn’t pay them any mind, barely liking to bring the topic up in the first place. It just gets him riled up. He sees the way Jeongguk treats everyone else, how he smiles and is quick to lend a helping hand. He’s even gotten friendly with Yoongi and Hoseok at one of the community feasts, being the one to help carry in all of the seating.
”Don’t dwell on instances like that. Jeongguk means well,” Yoongi reassures.
Jimin finds that hard to believe.
⋆ 𖤓 ⋆˚࿔
“Now, pay close attention,” Professor Sora says loudly enough for the full room to hear as she bends to the cauldron in front of her. She throws in a few ingredients quickly before stirring everything counterclockwise. The bubbles begin to pop and disintegrate into the air, the concoction clearly going awry.
The liquid begins to turn into a sticky molasses, the bubbling slowing down and vanishing completely as it darkens in color. “We can all see that this potion failed, correct? Who can tell me why?”
The class sits in silence for a second too long, before Jimin bites the bullet. He raises his hand and is seen right away, having been sat in the first row. Professor Sora gestures for him to speak.
“I believe there are a couple of reasons it could have failed. The ratio of mineral seemed heavy and unmeasured, the heat too high, and the Quarterroot, while hard to tell, may have been harvested at the wrong moonphase.”
Professor Sora nods along, taking in Jimin’s answer. “Thank you. You are correct about the heat and the mineral salt, Jimin. In the Quarterroot is where you diverge. Can anyone explain why?”
Jimin writes down notes as she speaks, documenting what he got right, and waiting for anyone else in the class to speak up. He grinds his teeth the second he hears it, Jeongguk’s throat clearing and his low and smooth voice butting in to say the right answer.
“It wasn’t a Quarterroot at all. You threw in an Eclipse Root, which would have the opposite effect of balancing the spell out and bringing harmony. It’s brittle, and meant for curse-breaking.”
Jimin knows he’s right even while he explains, and he feels silly for not catching the weak ends of the roots added. They differ slightly in hue, as well, and he’s surprised Jeongguk was able to differentiate so well from a few rows back.
“Brilliant,” Professor Sora says, pleased. “It is imperative you pay attention to the smallest of details both when foraging, and when creating. Some of you will graduate and never brew a potion again in your lifetime, and some will spend hours over an open fire. Whatever career path you choose, you will fare well having the knowledge in your back pocket.”
Jimin’s eye twitches as he smears ink on the page, feeling Jeongguk’s eyes on the back of his head. He’s normally not so irritable, but with the stress of his bond looming over his head and the fact that Jeongguk makes it his mission to let Jimin know he feels superior to him, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to fight back his annoyance.
This isn’t the first time that Jeongguk has shown him up in class, and he’s sure it won’t be the last before next spring. They always share at least one or two courses a quarter together, Jeongguk still a year away from graduating but far ahead in his studies. He’s always been naturally smart, the right answer coming to him without much trouble.
Jimin tries to pay attention the rest of the lecture, diligently taking notes like he always does, but his hand drifts to the side margins more than once, fingers tracing his pen in the shape of wispy waves. Nobody but Jimin would be able to recognize they share the pattern of Jeongguk’s chocolate brown hair.
⋆ 𖤓 ⋆˚࿔
“It’s getting to be chilly out, isn’t it, Yeong?” Jimin makes idle chatter as he walks side by side with his familiar. He needed a breather after his nighttime meal, his parents asking him questions he didn’t have the answers to just yet.
There’s a pebble path that treks along the forest of their community, leading to a big lake on the East side. The sun’s long since set, so Jimin is relying on the distant light of the houses and the town’s lit lanterns. He can just make out their shadows being cast onto the ground, navigating more with his sense of surroundings than anything else.
Yeonghon trods ahead, speeding up and hopping off the human-made path to sniff around along the tree's edge. Jimin lets him, pulling his sweater tighter around his body as he kicks a rock forward. The moon is in the third quarter, clouds slowly drifting underneath it. It’s always calm at this time and he wonders why he doesn’t come out more often, even if it’s cold.
Jimin is admiring the night sky when he feels it, more than hears it. Yeonghon yelps, a pained sound that he’s never heard leave the cat before. His body ignites with a sharp pain, and he’s darting towards the woods before he can think.
“Yeong!”
The cat stays in place, hunkering down just the slightest bit as he holds up his bloodied paw in protection. Jimin kneels right away, his hands softly reaching out to hold his familiar. It looks to be a bite, with what he can see in the moonlight. Being careful of his injured leg, he lifts him up and cradles him tight. He doesn’t care if his sweater gets dirtied by the blood, as long as he can feel Yeonghon’s heartbeat against his own.
He tries to scan the grass and forest boundary to see if whatever hurt Yeonghon is within sight, but it’s now too dark and his vision's too blurry to make anything out. Whatever it was must’ve gotten away by now anyway, and what's more important is getting Yeonghon to the animal healing house as soon as possible, his paw still bleeding enough to be concerned. He wraps the cat up in his sweater securely, making sure not to hurt him further, before he takes off in the direction of the clinic.
Jimin’s not sure if anyone is even still working at this time, but he chants a prayer the entire way there. He leans down to soothe Yeonghon every chance he gets, little whispers of reassurance that they’re almost there, that he’s going to be okay.
He breathes a sigh of relief when they finally skid to a stop outside of the healing house and he sees a fire lantern in the back still on, flickering as someone works. He knocks on the door somewhat roughly, his adrenaline still pumping. Yeonghon is weak in his arms and he can feel it through their bond, and the bite from the mystery creature is starting to turn a gruesome green, mixed with the crimson of the cat’s blood.
He’s just about to pound on the door again when it opens, and he comes face to face with a surprised Jeon Jeongguk.
“Jimin-ssi?”
Jimin shakes his head in shock, eyebrows furrowed as he wonders if he got the wrong house, but he’s not positive he didn’t. “What are you doing here?”
”I- I work here,” Jeongguk answers, tugging on his uniform, which has the healing symbol of their community sewn into the chest. He glances down at the cat that Jimin still holds tightly. “What happened? Is he okay?”
”Can you help him? Please?” Jimin asks, desperate, pulling his sweater back to reveal the injury. Never in his life did he think he’d be asking Jeon Jeongguk for help, of all people.
Jeongguk doesn’t hesitate when he sees Yeonghon, and Jimin honestly didn’t expect him to. He doesn’t think Jeongguk is heartless, even knows he isn’t. He’s just very aware that out of all the people in the village the man could want to help, Jimin is probably pretty low on his list. Despite that, he moves out of the way of the entrance within the blink of an eye, motioning for Jimin to come in quickly.
“Just- set him down there, I’ll just grab my cart,” Jeongguk says with urgency, stepping into the other room to pull his cart of tools and herbs into the main examination room.
Jimin doesn’t want to let go of Yeonghon, but he knows he has to lay him on the table for Jeongguk to work. The familiar looks ill, his signature orange color paling into a light tan as his fur gets matted with clotting blood. Out of all the years they’ve been together, he’s never witnessed Yeonghon so sickly.
“Can you tell me anything that happened?” Jeongguk questions, pulling up his sleeves as he reaches for Yeonghon, gently rolling him onto his side so he can see his front leg clearly. He handles him with such softness, like he’s delicate under his fingertips, and Jimin has to force himself to look away before he cries.
“We were just walking, over along the East forest edge. I-I let him out of my sight for less than a minute, and I think something bit him. I wasn’t able to see what it was, it was too dark and it got away,” Jimin tucks his hair behind his ear, and he’s almost positive the auburn color has faded now too, matching that of his familiar's.
Jeongguk hums, his brows furrowed in concentration as he dabs at the wound, cleaning it so he can see the bite mark better. As soon as the fur is cleared and the injury reveals itself, Jeongguk curses under his breath.
“What? What is it?” Jimin worriedly asks, getting so close that their elbows bump.
“A Geulimja pungdengi bit him, you can see from the distinct pincher marks. If I don’t act quickly, he’ll start to seize as the venom spreads.” Jeongguk starts grabbing different roots and herbs, and what looks suspiciously like a scale, adding them all to his mortar to crush up. He’s working fast, smashing his pestle down in swift movements, his eyes darting between his work and the cat that twitches every few seconds.
Jimin clutches at his own chest when he feels it, one hand tangled up in Yeonghon’s fur as the cat starts to convulse. “Jeongguk.”
“Shit, Jimin-ssi, listen to me, okay?” Jeongguk doesn’t stop working, but he commands Jimin’s attention. It hurts, his insides feel like they’re on fire, and he can’t imagine the pain Yeonghon feels right now. He’s seizing on the table and Jimin doesn’t know what to do, his heart thudding so fast he’s prepared for it to leap out of his chest. “You have to perform the spell to get him to stop seizing. He’s your familiar, you have to be the one to do it. Do you remember it? From our healing class in the spring?”
Jimin’s barely listening, but he feels a warm hand take hold of his nape, pulling his gaze to the man next to him. “I need you to listen, Jimin. Do you remember the spell?”
He racks his brain for it, digging up spell after spell, before he finds it. He hastily nods in confirmation that he remembers, hearing Jeongguk’s soft ‘good’.
Jimin takes a deep breath, reciting the spell in his head, feeling the magic spread to the tips of his fingers. He’s so scared it won’t work, he can’t deal with this again, not now, of all times. “Jeongguk, I can’t. You have to do it, I can’t, I’m not ready. I’m not-“
”You can,” Jeongguk reassures, his hand tightening its grip on the back of Jimin’s neck. “It has to be you. You can do this, I promise.”
Jimin stutters out a breath, sucking another one in directly after, and starts to say it. Whatever it is about this feeling, Jeongguk’s presence next to him, compels him to try. He mumbles the lines out loud at first, before his words get stronger and he reaches out to hold tight to the string connecting him with Yeonghon. He can feel the magic permeating throughout his body, can especially feel the warm hand gliding back and forth over his shoulder now, grounding him.
Grounding him.
Jeongguk’s grounding him, supporting his magic as it flows through him. He can feel Yeonghon’s body slowly stop convulsing, the rapid heartbeat in his chest descending back to a regular rhythm. The blood is rushing in his ears, but he finishes off the spell, his voice unshaken. He’s never before channeled so much energy, and certainly never completed such a complex spell on the first try.
Jeongguk’s whispering reassuring comments as he comes down from it, and his other hand is uncapping a vial of essence and pouring it into the fine powder. He whisks it into a thick liquid and pours it into a jar, careful not to let any spill. “He has to drink this.”
Jimin steps back just enough to let Jeongguk come forward, insistently gentle when he opens Yeonghon’s mouth, tipping the antidote down his throat and hoping he has enough strength to swallow. Yeonghon’s eyes flutter open and closed, exhausted. He starts to choke a little on the thick substance and Jimin doesn’t even realize he has a death grip around Jeongguk’s forearm as he watches his familiar struggle with the remedy until he finally starts to swallow it all down.
Jimin doesn’t let go until Yeonghon’s finished the jar, his breathing evening out and his color slowly starting to brighten again. He’s never felt such relief in his life as he physically feels the squeeze of his chest ease up, the bond between familiar and witch strong.
“He’s okay,” Jeongguk breathes out softly, stepping back to let Jimin bury his face in Yeonghon’s stomach.
“Yeonghon,” Jimin whimpers, finally letting it hit him. He doesn’t know what he would’ve done if Jeongguk wasn’t working late. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
Yeonghon weakly purrs, and Jimin understands him. He strokes his fur, something he’s done a million times before but this time feels even more special. He’s going to be scarred from nighttime walks for the foreseeable future.
When he finally takes his eyes away from the tired cat, he finds Jeongguk watching them. He doesn’t wear that condescending grimace he usually does, as if he’s smelled something foul. Instead, his features are soft, but still alert. He must be shaken up as well, not expecting such a complicated first-time case. Jimin admires him head to toe, from his curly brown hair, tanned skin from outside work, and his black healing uniform.
Jimin’s magic worked. His magic was grounded because of Jeon Jeongguk, the one man in the community he swore hated him. His magic worked.
“Thank you,” Jimin says quietly. He doesn’t know what else to say, without freaking out inside.
“Of course,” Jeongguk whispers back. “You did the heavy lifting.”
Jimin shakes his head, not wanting to let Jeongguk deflect. “No, I couldn’t have saved him without you. You’ve done me a service I can’t properly express.”
It could be the lighting, but Jeongguk’s ears go pink, the flush spreading down his cheeks and neck. Jimin stares hard as Jeongguk starts fiddling around with his materials, glasses clinking together. “Okay. Thank you. I mean- You’re welcome.”
“Hm,” Jimin bites his lip, trying to contain a small, amused smile. He turns away from the man, petting Yeonghon some more. “Should he stay here tonight, do you think?”
“Oh, yeah, I think he should. I’m on overnight shift here, so I can watch over him.”
“Okay, I’ll come right at dawn to get him,” Jimin reassures, feeling empty at the idea of having to be separated from Yeonghon, even just for a night. “Jeongguk?”
Jeongguk spins from his cart, alert. “Yes?”
“You’ll take care of him?”
“Of course. I’d do anything to keep him safe,” Jeongguk promises, and he’s so earnest that Jimin can’t wrap his head around the change. He’s never been on the receiving end of Jeongguk’s doe eyes, not like this. “He’ll be okay, Jimin-ssi.”
“I believe you.”
With the phantom trickle of magic flowing over his body, he realizes he really does.
⋆ 𖤓 ⋆˚࿔
“I’m telling you, it worked,” Jimin gulps now in unease, hanging upside down on his bed. Hoseok and Yoongi sit on the floor and at his desk chair, respectively.
Jeongguk was on his way out of the animal healing house when he arrived that morning, the healer elder taking over for the day. Yeonghon was wrapped up in a soft cloth blanket, looking miles better than he did the night before. His color has fully returned, and the wound under his bandages has already closed up, thanks to the aid Jeongguk performed on him.
”You don’t think it had anything to do with the adrenaline?” Hoseok asks, and rightfully so. Jimin thought it over too, barely able to sleep as he tossed and turned.
He shakes his head as much as he can in this position. “I don’t think so. I can’t describe it, hyung. My magic has never felt like that, even at times of high-pressure. And where he touched me…” Jimin’s own hand reaches up to smooth over the junction of his nape and shoulder. “It was him. He grounded my magic.”
Yoongi looks contemplative, much like he always does. “You need to be sure, Jimin. Just the other day, you couldn’t stand Jeongguk. Now you’re saying he’s your soulmate?”
Jimin sputters at the word, not having thought of it in that way. “What do you mean, I couldn’t stand him?”
Hoseok chuckles at that, like Jimin is being silly. “You’re joking, right?”
When Jimin doesn’t respond, sitting up to look at them genuinely confused, Yoongi and Hoseok share a look. They’re always doing that, and Jimin suspects maybe they’re the ones that need to admit they have a soul-bond.
“Jimin, you’ve hated Jeongguk since we were kids.”
It’s so incredulous that Jimin scoffs. “Me? It’s Jeongguk that has made it his mission to outwardly despise and taunt me. I’ve only just accepted his dislike.”
Both of his hyungs grace him with an expression that reads, ‘you are so smart, but so wrong.’
Jimin thinks it over. Tries to compare the Jeongguk he saw last night with the one he’s known most of his life. All of his misconceptions go out the window with just a single encounter. Jeongguk is so nice, always has been. In fact, Jimin can’t think of a single person in the entire community that has ever had an ill thing to say about the man. He’s sure he doesn’t have a mean bone in his body.
“Jeongguk doesn’t hate me, does he?” Jimin asks, feeling sheepish.
Hoseok shakes his head, tiny smile creeping onto his face. “Not at all, my Jiminie. Not even a little bit.”
”Oh!” Jimin throws himself back onto his bed, covering his face with his pillow. “I feel so stupid!”
“Hey, none of that,” Yoongi interjects, coming to sit on the edge of the mattress. He pats Jimin’s leg in reassurance. “It was a normal conclusion to come to, seeing as he’s always knocking you over and can’t form a sentence when he’s within 5 feet of you.”
”But he’s just nervous!” Jimin shouts. “I make him nervous, don’t I?”
”More than nervous. I’m pretty sure you scare him shitless,” Hoseok laughs again from the floor, and Jimin’s glad at least someone finds entertainment in the situation.
Yoongi can’t even hold in his snicker either. “Always yelling at the poor witch. He can’t even attempt to impress you, you’ll roll your eyes before he can open his mouth.”
Jimin flushes in embarrassment, because he knows it's true. He’s running through every memory he has of interacting with Jeongguk, all of their classes they’ve shared, every time they’ve run into each other in town. It always seemed like Jeongguk had something on the tip of his tongue to say, but Jimin never stayed around long enough to listen.
“This is a disaster. How could I possibly find out if Jeongguk’s my anchor when I’ve been so rude to him?”
”Talk to him. That’s all there is to it,” Hoseok supplies, shrugging. “He’s reasonable. He’ll listen to you. He’s probably been dying for the chance to.”
Jimin bites his lip, thinking about how many doodles in his notebook he has of wavy hair, strong hands, and big noses that look all too familiar.
He vows to approach Jeongguk in the next class they share together, and he’s sure he’ll spend every waking moment until then thinking about it.
⋆ 𖤓 ⋆˚࿔
It’s not until the end of class that Jimin gets the chance to talk to Jeongguk. Their professor has waxed on for what felt like forever, but in reality was their usual hour lecture.
“I trust your ability to choose a suitable partner for the final assignment. You should begin working right away, with only a few weeks left until final assessments,” Professor Sora projects her voice to the class as she packs away her things. “Feel free to come to me with any questions. Good luck.”
Jimin stuffs his supplies in his bag, throwing it over his shoulder as he turns and looks for Jeongguk. He always sits a couple rows behind him, towards the middle. It’s not hard to spot him, with quite a few people surrounding him in waiting. It seems like they’re going to ask him to be their partner, which isn’t surprising, considering Jeongguk is one of the most intelligent students in the class.
Jimin hurries over, mumbling excuses as he pushes past people. When he’s close enough, he raises his voice a little to be heard. “Jeongguk!”
Jeongguk whips his head in his direction, doe eyes getting impossibly big when he spots Jimin.
“Jimin-ssi?”
Jimin slides up to his seat, barely being taller than Jeongguk sitting down. “I wanted to know if you’d like to be my partner? For the final project?”
Jeongguk’s mouth drops open, and he seems to catch himself staring because he quickly shakes his head to clear it. “Partners? Yeah. Yes, I’d love to.”
“Great.” Jimin grips his bag strap closer to his body, swaying on his feet. “Are you free right now? If you’re not busy, we could go somewhere, to start brainstorming…”
”No. I mean, yes! I’m free, I’m not busy,” Jeongguk stutters out, collecting the rest of his things and hastily shoving them in his bag to stand up. He gestures for Jimin to lead the way out of class, not even paying any attention to those that were waiting to talk to him. Jimin should feel bad, but he’s too occupied with the pink tinge that graces Jeongguk’s features.
They don’t speak as they walk side by side, going who knows where. Jimin gravitates towards the community gardens, like he often does. Jeongguk seems content to follow his lead, stealing glances at him as the winter air brings in a chill breeze.
They’re walking the aisles of the greenhouse when Jeongguk finally speaks. “So… I was thinking. Do you know dalbich-ui yong-gi? We could make the potion for that. The moon phases will line up perfectly if we start now.”
Jimin hums in confirmation, because he does know that one. It’s one of his favorites to see, even if he’s never made it on his own. The end result is a luck elixir that shines the most beautiful iridescent purple color.
“I think that would be a great idea,” Jimin says. “We can get most of the ingredients here in town. I believe I saw some burdock growing on the North side, close to the lake. It won’t be ready for a couple weeks more, but we could forage it last.”
Jeongguk doesn’t take his eyes off of him as he talks, and it’s a little flustering. Jimin’s never spent so much time in the younger’s presence without thinking he hates him before. He can’t believe he didn’t pick up on any of the signs, resigning himself to think Jeongguk was being mean, rather than intimidated.
“That sounds really good, hyun- Jimin-ssi,” Jeongguk catches himself with the honorific, and Jimin can’t hold in his smile.
“We’ve known each other since adolescence, Jeongguk,” Jimin teases. “Hyung is okay.”
Jeongguk breathes out a sigh of relief, his own small smile gracing his lips. “Okay.” He adds on as an afterthought, “Hyung.”
”Hmm.” Jimin is pleased to hear it, looking up at the glass roof.
“How is Yeonghon doing?” Jeongguk asks, carrying on the conversation. He fiddles with the plants in front of him, and Jimin realizes he does that a lot. His fingers are always tinkering with something.
“He’s faring well, basically back to normal,” Jimin answers. “Thank you, again. I was so scared, but you were really good at helping us both.”
That same blush once again makes its way to Jeongguk’s cheeks. “I’m just happy to hear he’s okay. And that you’re okay.”
”How’d you come to work at the healing house, anyway? Every time I see you around the community, you’re doing something else.” Jimin goes to sit on the wooden bench in the corner, patting the spot next to him for Jeongguk to get the hint and sit down as well. “I don’t know how you find time for it all.”
Jeongguk accepts the invitation, their thighs barely brushing on the small seat. “Well, my dream is to become a primary healer at the clinic after graduation. I want to focus on familiar and witch magic, because there isn’t much concrete research out there about it, much less familiar-focused healers. I believe we have to approach familiars in a unique way when it comes to injury and health, one that also takes their bonded humans into consideration.”
Jimin listens intently, his heart growing in size. He’s never thought too deeply about such matters, but Jeongguk’s right. Even in their rather robust community, he can’t think of a healer that focuses specifically on familiars and their witches. He’s always had to make do with the general care provided.
”I like to help. I think I was born to help,” Jeongguk goes on. “So I build, and hunt, and teach. I do what I can with my time. I don’t like sitting still.”
Just as he says it, Jimin notices how his knee is softly swaying, and his fingers are playing with the fabric of his sweater.
“I can see that,” Jimin says, reaching over to pull Jeongguk’s hand from stretching the yarn stitches apart. His skin is warmer than Jimin’s own, and he deduces he must run hot. The palm on his bare neck that night was hot, too.
Jeongguk lets his hand be led away, hesitantly curling his fingers around Jimin’s much smaller ones. Butterflies erupt in Jimin’s stomach, and for the first time in his life, he can feel his magic start to heat up in his body without trying.
It’s a surreal experience, to conjure up so much magical strength with a simple touch. His presumptions about Jeongguk being his grounding point are solidified for him, right then and there. He can hear Elder Joohyuk’s words echo in his head.
“Have no doubts of this, Jimin. You’ll know when your magic does.”
His magic knows, and it's reaching out from his chest, letting free in ways he’s never had the chance to before.
“Hyung?”
Jimin is shaken out of his headspace, looking down to see that he’s fully holding Jeongguk’s hand now, fingers intertwined. They look good together, his smaller one held safely in Jeongguk’s grip.
“Sorry, you were just going to mess up your clothing,” Jimin comes up with what was not originally a lie. He doesn’t really want to let go of Jeongguk’s hand, but he loosens his hold as an excuse to fix his own attire. “You know the jaebongsa work hard to make those.”
Jeongguk is sheepish, looking down at his sweater and rubbing his nape. “Yeah, they do. I made this when I helped out at the textile house over the summer.”
Jimin looks at him in awe, but he can’t help but stutter out a laugh. Of course Jeongguk’s made his own clothes, of course he’s taken the time to learn and appreciate the craftsmanship of the jaebongsa’s work. “You’re unreal, Jeon Jeongguk.”
Jeongguk giggles, nodding because he knows he is. Nobody else in the entire community could measure up to Jeongguk’s care for his people.
“We should get home before it gets too late.” Jimin rises, shouldering his bag again.
”Let me walk you,” Jeongguk offers. Jimin won’t turn him down now. Not after years of secretly wanting his attention.
They make simple talk the whole way, and Jeongguk seems to be getting more comfortable the more questions Jimin asks. He asks about Jimin in return, but seems to already know most of the answers. More than once, he admits to having watched Jimin over the years, hoarding away tidbits about his likes and dislikes.
It’s so easy to talk to Jeongguk, and Jimin honestly doesn’t want to part ways when they finally walk up the stone path to his front door.
“We should meet tomorrow,” Jimin says quickly, spinning around and leaning back against the door. Jeongguk is a couple inches taller than him, so he has to look up to meet his eyes at this proximity. ”You know, to work on the project…”
Jeongguk nods hastily. “We really should.”
”And, uhm, the next day too,” Jimin sniffs, his cheeks hurting from trying desperately to keep his smile at bay.
The younger picks up on it, his goofy grin spreading just as much. “Maybe the next one after that? Our project requires a lot of work…”
It doesn’t, in all honesty. They’ve done most of the work already, just by figuring out a relevant potion to make. But Jimin won’t pass up the excuse to spend more time with him.
“I think we’ll be seeing each other a lot, then,” Jimin proposes.
”Sounds good to me.”
Jimin keeps eye contact, slowly nodding. “Me too.”
Jeongguk dips his head down, coming back up looking elated. “See you tomorrow, hyung.”
”See you, Jeongguk.”
Jimin sits in the foyer of his home for longer than necessary, running through the entire day. It’s not until Yeonghon slinks down the stairs that he moves, his familiar tilting his head in that way he only does when Jimin is being insanely obvious.
“I know, Yeong. Trust me, I know.”
⋆ 𖤓 ⋆˚࿔
As far as taking things slow is concerned, Jimin and Jeongguk do nothing of the sort. They do end up meeting the next day, and they spend no less than five hours walking around the town talking, snacking, and collecting materials they know they’ll need. It’s one of the best afternoons Jimin has had all year.
If someone would have told him that Jeongguk would laugh at all of his jokes, hold his hand when they cross over unsteady ground, and smile with stars in his eyes when Jimin explains the difference between lavender mugwort and hyssop in a potion, he simply wouldn’t believe it.
But he does, and he looks so beautiful while doing it. Jimin finds it hard to take his eyes off the younger when they’re together. They click in every way a person possibly could. Seeing the way Jeongguk reacts to his small touches and comments, the way he gets nervous and starts to stumble, Jimin feels ridiculous that he could’ve ever assumed this meant hatred.
It’s obvious now what it is, and Jimin could feel upset that he wasted so much time in his head, but he doesn’t dwell on it. He savors the here and now, doing his best to show Jeongguk that he’s sorry for the way he used to react.
The days pass by like that, and Jimin has stopped going home after class at all, instead waiting for Jeongguk outside so they can walk together. Oftentimes, they end up spending time together until the nightly meal. There’s days where they crack open their books at the archive house, hours spent studying with their shoes pressed together under the tables.
Other days, Jeongguk takes Jimin into his room, explaining and showing off all of the tools and supplies he’s gathered over the years, experimenting on spells and potions in his free time. They’ll sit on his bed, knees bumping and shoulders pressed tightly together while Jeongguk teaches Jimin how to knit, or Jimin reads a novel out loud, or they just talk about everything and anything.
Jeongguk let Jimin take the knitting needles home with him, and he’s vowed to knit Jeongguk a beanie for the upcoming winter, as cheesy as it is. He spends all of his time not with Jeongguk working on it, staying up late under candlelight counting stitches.
He thinks about telling Jeongguk about his grounding point all the time, and is really just waiting for the right moment. Jimin’s positive he’ll take it well, after all of the time they’ve spent together. Yoongi and Hoseok joke that they never even see him anymore, and when they do, it’s like they can see Jeongguk’s reflection in his eyes. Jimin’s not mad about it. This is honestly the most content he’s ever felt in his life, and while his magic finally functioning properly is one reason, he thinks bonding with Jeongguk as a person is an even bigger one.
They’re only a week away from having to harvest the burdock when Jimin decides that’s when he’ll tell him. By the lake, in the small clearing where the plant grows and the deer like to mingle. For some reason, he’s not even all that nervous.
⋆ 𖤓 ⋆˚࿔
Early on that Sunday morning, after the Full moon has passed and the burdock is ready to harvest, they bundle up and trudge out to the lake. Even Yeonghon joins them, his own sweater and makeshift boots on to protect him from the cold. It’s quiet and peaceful, not many people out and about just yet. Jimin finds the slow winter dawn romantic beyond measure, their breath mingling in the air.
“I used to come out here with my Appa in the summer, and tend to the landscape. We’d spend all day checking what was growing and cataloging it for the healers,” Jeongguk shares on their walk. The tips of his ears are red, and Jimin thinks of the dark green hat tucked away in his bag that he intends to give him. “I remember one day I stepped on a bug that had been resting on a blade of wild grass. I cried the whole way home, and my Appa had to give me a sleep potion that night because I felt so guilty.”
”Aww,” Jimin coos, endlessly endeared. “You have a heart of gold, Jeongguk-ah. I think you’re going to be the perfect healer.”
Jeongguk graces him with a meaningful and sweet smile, bumping their elbows together. “And you’ll be the most helpful to the elder house, taking care of our community.”
“We make a good power team, don’t you think?” Jimin asks.
“We really do.”
It doesn’t take them long to find the burdock. Jimin digs through his satchel while Jeongguk kneels in front of the plants. He bypasses the clippers and jars they brought to transport it and pulls out the beanie he knit instead. He hides it behind his back as he walks closer to Jeongguk.
“Jeongguk,” Jimin calls, gearing himself up to say what he needs to.
Jeongguk looks up at him, his cheeks and the tip of his nose rosy from the wind. “Yes, hyung?”
”I have something to tell you.” Jimin takes a deep breath in, letting it out before he explains from the beginning. “All my life, I’ve struggled with my magic. Anytime I tried to do spells, they backfired. They’d ricochet, or fizzle out entirely. I could never get a good enough grip on my energy, and my magic always slipped through the cracks. I was never connected enough.”
“I was scared that I was too behind to join the wisefolk after graduation, so I seeked council with the elders at the beginning of fall,” Jimin goes on. Jeongguk is listening patiently, taking in all of the details. “They told me I needed a grounding point.”
Here is where Jeongguk’s expression changes, surprise, and a hint of hope, taking over. “I needed to find someone who could be my grounding point, who my magic reacts to, and reaches out for. Someone that bonds me to the earthly world. My soulmate.”
”Jeongguk-ah, the night you helped heal Yeonghon… You held onto me, and for the first time in my life, my magic worked.” Jimin fiddles with the yarn behind his back, a habit he’s picked up from Jeongguk. “You grounded me. After years of not knowing what was wrong with me, and if it could ever be fixed, you came along. You’re my grounding point.”
”Jimin,” Jeongguk looks lost for words as he stands. “I just…”
Before Jimin can say anything more, Jeongguk is enveloping him in a tight hug, arms wrapping securely around him. His senses are invaded by him, and he breathes in deeply, hugging Jeongguk back.
His magic simmers under his skin, warming him up from the inside out. He feels so alive, being held like this.
They hug for what seems like hours, Jeongguk nuzzling into Jimin’s neck and swaying them slightly. It’s probably the best reaction he could’ve hoped for.
They pull apart just barely, just enough for their noses to brush in the proximity. “Jimin, there’s nothing wrong with you. There never has been. I have to set that straight before I say the next part.”
Jimin chuckles, wanting to hide, but he forces himself to look into Jeongguk’s eyes. “I’m so happy I could be this for you. You don’t understand just how much. I’ve liked you since we were kids, and I’m sure that’s obvious now, but I had to say it. My mom, she went through something similar, before she met my dad. He was her grounding point.”
Jimin’s mouth drops open, thinking what the odds are that Jeongguk’s parents have such a story. Jeongguk lifts his hand to caress Jimin’s chin, gently closing his mouth and pulling him closer. He can feel his warm breath hit his lips. Jeongguk shakes his head, as if in disbelief. “You are so pretty, Park Jimin. Can I just kiss you, already?”
Without responding, Jimin surges forward, kissing Jeongguk with everything he has. He’s wasted enough time talking, and avoiding. Their lips are cold and a little chapped from the winter air where they meet, but Jimin could care less. He kisses him over and over and over, his magic slipping into every little embrace.
They don’t end up foraging the burdock until noon, because they can’t stop kissing long enough to hold the jars steady. Jimin eventually pulled back enough to present Jeongguk with his hat, prideful and enthusiastic, which resulted in being tackled to the ground and kissed by the man some more.
This feeling is everything Jimin could have possibly dreamed of.
They pass by the elder house on the way back into town, because Jimin wanted to thank them for their service, and inform them of the good news. The elders didn’t seem surprised in any fashion, and maybe even a little smug. Jeongguk admits later that he seeked counsel for his feelings for Jimin, back when he was a teenager. They’d told him he’d better keep trying to get Jimin’s attention, because one day, he might need it.
It was all sort of serendipitous, the way it played out. As they walked hand in hand to visit their hyungs, Yeonghon trotting alongside them, Jimin finds he wouldn’t have had it any other way.
They ace their potions exam days later, Professor Sora coincidentally calling them the dream team. Jimin just shares a look with Jeongguk, recalling that yeah, they really are.