make it stop {YOONMIN}

Free

Content warning: Blood, knives, guns, death

An hour ago...

Yoongi got off the train, checking his phone for the time. it was almost noon; he would miss eating with the guys. He looked around, behind, left and right of himself, unable to shake the feeling of being watched, he grunted to himself, stuffing his hands into his pockets, thinking about the past 24 hours. memories came flashing back to him on the train; how he ditched home to drink after ... well, he didn't even know. Ever since he saw the newest addition to the household, he felt off. Not the closed-off, reserved, calm Yoongi has been since...

He shook his head, he felt like a mess, so emotional. God, what's happening to him? He's been so flustered, so vulnerable. fuck, I hate this, yoongi thinks to himself. he quite honestly wanted to get shitfaced again. or see his Father, he'd know what to tell him, mainly because it was the being who raised him, but it definitely helped that he was omnipotent. Yoongi looks up from the ground, deciding on a place to do the ritual at. His mind was scrambled, he'd never done this in a public space, it was way too risky, but he was finding himself on the verge of a panic attack with his racing thoughts. he sees a small alley way in about a block and started speeding up his pace, deciding on that being where he would sit down.

still glancing around, yoongi made it to the alleyway and sat down. he sat down, crossing his legs and getting in a comfortable position. he closed his eyes, slowing his breathing down; inhale, he breathed in slowly, focusing only on his breath, nothing else. exhale, he focused on the feeling of the air leaving his body, repeating the process a few times before feeling grounded enough to start.

He begun changing, he felt himself falling into a trance, his body almost fading away into the other realm before pain shot through his neck.

Yoongis eyes flew open, gasping for air. he raised his hand to his throat, feeling blood pooling out of his neck. fuck, he looked up, seeing the man in the business suit above him, holding a rather small pocket knife, clearly panicking at his own actions. if looks could kill

yoongi tightened the grip on his neck, before he began to raise to his feet. the man in front of him clearly panicked and began to run, pulling out his phone and dialing a number. Yoongi had to put all of his focus into his breathing, inhale, he had to remember to breathe. exhale, slowly but surely he was grounding himself. He tried to hear who the man was talking to, stumbling towards him.

the man looked back at yoongi "yes my emergency, i have min yoongi in my possession, ive injured him," he stammered on the phone. yoongi groans to himself, in pain but also in annoyance.

"youve gotta be joking me," he laughs, the man looking back at him holding the knife out, still on the phone with the police. "i cant have just a moment to myself can i," he yells out. the man starts panicking, seeing yoongi inching closer to him. he knew he was slow, the man seemingly taking advantage of it when he threw the knife at yoongi and it landed in his eye. the man seemed to panic, telling the police to hurry up.

Yoongi, as much as he hated to admit it, was in a corner. physically in an alleyway with no way to go and physically in the sense that his body was using all its energy in one thing; healing. he started spiraling.

is it really too much to want to talk to my father, he laughed out half heartedly. if he did nothing, the police would get to him, likely shoot him until he died, and hed be thrown back into testing facilities, likely worse than the ones he was in growing up. yet he has no energy in him. yoongi just stands there for a moment, cold, tired. he thinks of the boys. he knows his family would come after him. they wouldnt leave him and let him suffer anymore than he already had. he knows his future, the longer he stands there, soaking up the stinging sensation in his eye, the burn his neck produces as blood flows out. he lets it wash over him; the pain hed known so long from near a decade of his life. he almost gives into it, when he hears it.