pjmavt-blog

[pjmavt-blog]

avtsparrow:

(...)

“s-sorry.”

but i can’t. 

he can’t move. he’s too scared. the invisible claws sink deeper into his legs, keeping him stuck to the ground, and he tastes iron on his tongue, realizing that he had been gnawing at his bottom lip furiously to take an edge off of the panic and terror.

“i…went the wrong way.”

Jimin blinked as the other male seemed to not move, perhaps pretending as if Jimin hadn’t noticed him there. Jimin sighed deeply -- a long night it’d be he supposes. He wondered if the other was one of the stupid high school kids that had found out he was blind and liked to mess with him. Clapping all around so he would be fumbling and stumbling about to catch them -- annoyingly reluctant to use his magic because he tries his best to let the least amount of people know of his abilities, but sometimes he gets so close to just hurting them. As much as he never wants to, but he was close with this person if they were messing with him. He wasn’t in the mood tonight -- or ever.

By the stutter, Jimin was a bit alarmed, the voice sounded sincere at the least. His (he’s assuming) apology swaying Jimin enough to relax the crease between the witch’s brows. At the other’s excuse, Jimin’s face shifted into one of perplexity.

“I.. don’t understand how you get lost in a cemetery, but--” Jimin felt for the small crater he knew was near here, somewhere, until he found it a few inches from where he stood. The dip of it let him know which direction the exit of the cemetery was, he turned in the general direction of the other and stated, “you go down that slope there and make a right, walk until you see the lights of the gas station across the street. At least they should be on, it’s pretty late. Try not to get lost -- again,” Jimin almost teased, but to his pale, stoic face the other probably took it as more malice and annoyance than anything else.

Jimin was about to walk away when he didn’t hear the sound of scuffling against the pavement, indicating the other wasn’t moving. Jimin huffed, scowling blue eyes in the direction of the other, upturning his hands to further express his confusion, “please leave? Why are you still standing there? I told you how to get out -- now, get out.”

++ misguided | pwj & pjm

[pjmavt-blog]

avtjjk:

(...)

“stop,” he wheezes. “stop, stop, stop, please.” he tugs his limbs closer, as if that could heal him, as if that could save him. “please– please.” he twitches at the voice, it’s soothing, even past the throbbing in his ears. he sniffles– coughing, blood splattering onto the ground as he pops an eye open, vision unsteadily focusing on the male before him. he’s unfamiliar, he’s not one of the ones who had been attacking him– but jeongguk still lets out a choked noise, and tries to scoot away. 

“i–” he chokes, letting out a whimper as he clutches his stomach. he moves his legs, slowly– and lets out a soft breath. “i– i don’t know.” he speaks quietly, a slur– voice hoarse from use. “i…probably? i don’t know. i don’t wanna move.” his fingers twitch, palm pressing against the ground as he attempts to push himself up. in the back of his mind he knows he’ll be fine. his healing will take a second to kick in, but he’ll be feeling better in a little while. 

“ah,” he bites back a curse, tears stinging in his eyes. “i– w-where did they go?”

Jimin almost whined in agony for the other. The desperation in his voice, the scuffling he heard for the other to try to get away from him -- Jimin didn’t like violence, or murder or anything of the sort, yet he always found himself emerged in it, had the literal ability to sniff it out even when he didn’t want to, but for once, he was glad to have it. Jimin knows why he couldn’t fight the itch to interfere -- it was because this person wasn’t meant to die today, probably not anytime soon, for whatever reason fate compelled Jimin to save him, and most likely for good reason, which is why Jimin continued -- he had no desire to let nature down ever again.

“It’s okay,” Jimin assured with the gentlest voice he could muster, “I’m not going to hurt you -- the people that were hurting you are gone,” Jimin continued to explain, not how or why, but that the other didn’t have to worry about them, at least for the time being. When Jimin smelled the sickening scent of blood, he grimaced as much as he didn’t want to, his brows furrowing only for a second before they softened to worry. He wondered why he felt so sympathetic for a person he’d never met, touched or seen a day in his life. At least, he didn’t think they were familiar.

At the seeming boy’s admission of not knowing if he could move, Jimin’s heart lurched a bit in worry. With working eyes, he would have looked over his shoulders, but instead, he used his instinct and could tell the men he sent away still wandered with nothing on their brains, for now. “I know it probably hurts. They almost killed you, you know? How did you end up like this? Who were they --” Jimin waited for a beat and then thought about a more important question, “--who are you?”

Jimin was unaware of why the stranger was reluctant to move, maybe something having to do with the blood, how badly was he injured exactly? Jimin’s internal questioning came to a halt when his body tingled with worry once more, the presences starting to regain their composure, their minds, he knows it, at least they should be. They didn’t have much time.

“I don’t know,” Jimin answered honestly, “but they’re gonna’ come back if we don’t move.” Jimin scooted a little further up the male’s body, crouched on his knees, and let his hands hover above the boy’s belly, he hesitated before he touched, giving the stranger ample time to stop him if he was uncomfortable, and with slow hands, he dug under the male’s shirt, having to feel skin contact for this to do any good, “I have to do this, just -- wait-- don’t worry--” and Jimin’s eyes fell shut as he mumbled some Latin words under his breath, willing the person connected to his touch’s body to heal -- at least enough for him to move. Jimin doesn’t know the extent of his damage, but he knows with the amount of magic he’s using they could get to their feet and at least walk quickly, and they needed to fast because Jimin could feel people coming.

Though Jimin was slightly fatigued, he removed his cold fingers from the boy’s skin, and leaned back, knowing the effects took a minute before the other would feel it, it’d come in waves, long waves that one would barely be noticed until they tried the things they hesitated to before, Jimin was silent next to him, still slightly humming as the words he sung under his breath were still contributing to his healing, but it wouldn’t be long now.

“Can you move now?” Jimin asked with bated breath, hoping the little bit of magic he sent through the boy’s veins was enough, “It won’t be long before--” Jimin was cut off by mumbles of people, farther away but approaching quickly, all with malevolent auras surrounding them, Jimin’s eyes widened, and he scooped the boy’s arm around his shoulder, “we have to go now,” he urged, tugging at the boy’s arm.

“You have to be our eyes, okay? Lead me, where do you live?” Jimin pressed, not only because he was blind but because he didn’t know this person, or where he lived. Jimin also was a bit apprehensive about being led somewhere foreign -- the boy was hurt so clearly he couldn’t do anything to Jimin but wherever he led Jimin would be blindly, and Jimin would be out of his element -- Jimin scoffed at his weak heart, this boy better save the world one day what with Jimin going through all this trouble to save him.

graveyard shift.

[pjmavt-blog]

avtchan:

(...)

The ‘ghost’s’ pale skin illuminates in the setting sun’s glow, while Chanyeol falls back landing on his rear as he can only manage stare. He swallows nervously, unsure what to even say in the presence of a spirit, every television show taught him that nearly nine times out of ten any ghostly interaction was demonic. “P-Please don’t possess me..” He squeaks, a part of him hoping that perhaps he’s come into contact with something more like casper the friendly ghost and less like paranormal activity.

This place had the best herbs. Jimin didn’t really know how to describe the “best herbs” criteria, but if asked, he would direct anyone to this place. He had never stepped foot there himself, only paid off a few people to run errands for him during the day, but stepping into the shop himself was a sensory overload with smells and essentially life booming from every corner. A place someone like Jimin shouldn’t be but he couldn’t help himself. Being blind, of course, has its disadvantages, for instance, a lot of things around Jimin went unnoticed. He couldn’t see the flowers die around him, and it’s something he didn’t even know he could do. The thought of it would be mortifying, seeing as his craft relied heavily on nature, the idea of him destroying it by just existing would break his heart to pieces.

Guided by his sense of smell and the textures of the different plants, Jimin navigated the store to the best of his ability, but with the overload of scents, it was quite literally impossible. He didn’t know exactly where any workers were but he’d try his best to feel out there auras, and he detected one nearer to the front and was walking in the general directions when more slightly to his right, he heard a mortified voice call out something more or less demeaning, but Jimin never took exclamations like this to heart, but it didn’t stop the small frown on his face. He was used to people seeing him and thinking he was positively dead or a ghost. Such a contrast to what his appearance used to be. He hates it, but there was nothing he could do.

“I..I’m not a ghost,” Jimin spoke with more or less a rhythmic tone -- he’s sure that if he were to speak monotonously, the male, he’s assuming by the voice, would likely not believe him, “I just use some really good skincare products…?” He tried to lift plump lips into the smallest of grins, to come off a bit more friendly, and for the other to interpret his words as a joke but he had no way of knowing if the stranger believed it or even found it the least bit amusing, but Jimin took the chance and began to step closer anyway.

“I, um, came for some herbs but I’m having some trouble -- looking for them. Do you mind helping me, maybe?” Jimin asked with a furrow to his brows, “could you get me some sage, patchouli, and yarrow? Do you guys have all of those?” He was crossing his fingers that the florist wouldn’t still be frozen gaping at him, that’d make this encounter a lot more painful and prolonged to get through.

some things are better left undead

[pjmavt-blog]

avtjjk:

(...)

“stop–” he yelps. there’s a kick in his side and jeongguk moves, pushes his body to move, and he does– just a little bit. before he’s staggering away just a few feet away and he’s back on the ground. speed can’t help him if he’s exhausted and it can’t help him when he can barely get to his feet. “s-stop!”

you reap what you sow. it’s a mantra in his head; maybe he deserves this for trying to play hero all the time. 

It’s rare that Jimin is in the city after dusk. While it’s true it’s easier to catch him meandering through dead streets in the middle of the night, he still would much rather not have to interact with people at all, which, wandering through the city at any time was a sure way to have all kind of people talking to you. He liked to keep to his cemetery, and home, and any stops between that was simply unnecessary. However, Jimin needed some potions, and just like him, the witch that he trusts the most only dealt with business matters during the night, leaving days to herself, which Jimin could relate to, but was an inconvenience nonetheless.

He ended up getting out of the witch’s home a lot later than anticipated, he’s lucky he has no looming supervisors, or managers watching over him because he’s sure he’s a good couple hours late. But witches are nothing short of chatterboxes, and Jimin wasn’t taught to be rude to someone that has served you, so he braved through it, but it took every ounce of his being not to snap at the cackling superhuman to shut the fuck up. Somehow he feels like she wouldn’t supply him anymore after that.

On his way to the cemetery, he tries to take quiet routes with little traffic so he can return to his safe place as quickly as possible, however, an itch nagged at the pit of his stomach. Distress it felt like, and it rattled his nerves until he was forced to stop in his tracks. He heard the faint sound of struggle, and despite his instincts telling him not to worry himself with things that weren’t his business, something deeper compelled him to stop. It wasn’t just an itch, it was Death, looming over his figure like a dark apparition, which is something he isn’t unfamiliar with, however, this one seemed out of place. As he got closer and closer to where the feeling led him, the scuffles and shuffling he was identifying quickly as the source of his inner discomfort. The scent of death didn’t belong. Whoever was under the mercy of other, which by the sounds of feet against the pavement, he estimated it would be more than one, was not meant to die this moment.

He’d dare even say that the entity suffering from impending death didn’t deserve it, from how pure the soul felt underneath death’s foul debris. Jimin didn’t release the sigh he was holding, as not to give away his position, but in another condition, he would have. He had to interfere. He was too soft-hearted to not, but Jimin hoped he wouldn’t regret it.

He emerged from the shadows, and by the slowing of the punches and kicks against a body, Jimin could tell he was being noticed, quick on his feet, he thought of the first spell that could protect him, and the slowly dying being on the ground feet away from him, he closed his eyes, concentrating on what he wanted to instill in the attackers’ brains for the quickest second, then recited, “Hodie in hac hora invocare proprium. Fac eas oblivisci, quid factum est, antequam ad ortum Solis Viribus animi aquam et ignem aera nudum monimentum numquam,” and just like that, everything around them stopped. The attackers, that Jimin could not see, suddenly halted. Jimin would think that they’d harbor much confusion in their expressions, not knowing, at this moment, who they are, what they are doing, or who they are with, a memory loss spell. Two points for creativity Jimin supposes. With a flick of his wrist, Jimin sent calming breezes in the opposite direction of both the lain figure and himself, so gently guiding the attackers with the wind, until their footsteps were only echoes until there was silence. Jimin exhaled softly, wiping his brow of the drop of sweat that emerged, feeling a bit winded from the exertion, no matter how little, until he remembered the situation at hand.

Jimin took cautious steps toward the figure, the other not making enough noise for Jimin to accurately assess where he was so he had to tune into the waning death sense, trying to catch the last scents of it before the aura died out completely. When Jimin was sure he was near enough to feel his way to the other, he dropped to his knees, patting the ground until he felt a shoe, then an ankle, and stopped there before his hands crawled any further. He shuffled upward, being sure not to touch the other until he was sure they wouldn’t react violently, with a voice as gentle as wind chimes, Jimin coaxed the other to speak, “are you alright?” he asked, and closed his eyes, already beginning to channel some energy to help the other’s healing process, if only a little bit, anything could help, “I need you to talk to me -- can you stand?”

graveyard shift.

[pjmavt-blog]

⤊

[pjmavt-blog]

avtsparrow:

(..)

truthfully, he’s not quite sure what it is, but the unnatural fear that washed over him pulled his foot back down with an alarming force, leaving him drenched in a freezing, terrifying premonition. a dark figure emerges from the blanket of pitch black night, blurry outline forming in his wide eyes.

he watches it with an expression similar to that of a deer caught in headlights, silently pleading to any celestial being that it would not notice him.

Jimin doesn’t hate his job (well he does but that’s deeper than need be in the moment), he hates what it entails. He doesn’t understand what’s so appealing about a cemetery. Between kids coming here pitch black in the night, or people who could not seem to let their loved ones go for shit, Jimin was always dealing with having to tell people it’s time to leave -- unfortunately, tonight wasn’t a lucky night where he didn’t have to. He felt the vague presence of a person, and thought it no mind because people had the right to loiter for the right reasons, however, as the living being got closer and closer, Jimin could feel no sorrow or agony within them, which doesn’t mean much, but more times than not, the feeling Jimin festered in the pit of his stomach told him this person didn’t belong. He usually wasn’t wrong.

With a huff, his feet took him outside, dodging the trees, and headstones he knew by heart, gliding, and maneuvering as if he could see perfectly fine until the feeling continued to grow. He clutched his long black jacket to his body, the bitter cold biting the inches of skin that dared lay uncovered at the beginnings of fall when people’s skin was most vulnerable from having not broken the habit of summer’s attire. Jimin wasn’t so foolish. He rarely wore short things anyways, but this night was oddly chilly.

Jimin’s mundane thoughts were cut short when his chest throbbed at being near his destination, finding a person, near him and if their aura was anything to go by, they had been quite frightened, meaning they seen him already. Fuck. Jimin sighed, and though he could not pinpoint where the person was exactly, he’d like to hope his eyes pointed in the general direction. He opened plump lips to speak, “there’s no headstones there,” were his first words, referring to the area the person seemed to be, kind of lame in his own opinion but it was too late to take them back now, “what’s your business here? If it’s just to mess around, well don’t even waste my time answering. please leave.”

++ misguided | pwj & pjm

[pjmavt-blog]

when a spirit says catch

@avtrose

Jimin rarely frequented places during the day. He hated the feel of the sun on his skin (even if he used to love it), but it burned a bit less than the harsh rays of stares. Jimin knows people tend to stare at him, judging by how quiet it can sometimes get in rooms he knows aren’t supposed to be, and normally he wouldn’t force himself to deal with that, taking to staying indoors during the day, and doing what’s needed at night, however, getting this herb during the night wasn’t an option. He needed to complete a spell tonight, and it required herbs for a ritual, herbs he clearly didn’t possess. Otherwise, he couldn’t take the scrutiny and all the bad vibes that come with swirling with a crowd of people.

Normally the spirits and apparitions that latch onto people’s backs and interacts doesn’t bother Jimin. In fact, he had gotten quite good at ignoring them. However, these voices began faintly in the back of his head. They mourned tales of agony, of vengeance, of wanting their deaths to be repaid in kind to who had done it to them. Again, Jimin isn’t new to these sorts of things, spirits come to him seeking vengeance on someone living as many times as Jimin can count, however, these people sounded rather tortured and downright angry. It seemed as if the more Jimin walked, they became louder and louder until the point they were legitimately screaming at Jimin to catch the girl. Catch the girl. He was stumbling, his head splitting and the voices going out of control the moment he had made contact with someone, someone he was sure had something to do with the voices screaming in his head.

Incredulously, he clutched his temples, a look of as much sorrow as the spirits that pestered him held, he grabbed the girl's arm, hearing shrieks of Catch her, being shouted at him, he rasped, “what did you do?” and clutched her forearm tighter, “what did you do?” he emphasized before he realized what he was doing and unhanded her, his items dropped to the ground no matter how much he had needed them, he couldn’t think straight with the growls and howls of frustration attacking his brain, he slipped away from her swiftly, somewhat having the capacity to want to lose her, but because of the pain in his head, and of course his blindness, he couldn’t get very far, tumbling into walls that blocked his path, or people who rammed right into him, but he didn’t falter or stop, simply wanting to get home to stop the voices. He hoped the woman wasn’t hot on his trail.

[pjmavt-blog]

avtdowoon:

(..)

Instantly he froze up, keeping himself as quiet as possible, a tight grip on his backpack as some random guy walked in, stopping only a couple of feet from him. This was just a little odd, and this guy clearly didn’t look very right either, he was incredibly pale, almost like some sort of ghost had just walked in. Though what made this even weirder was that his name came out of his mouth, so he was clearly looking for him. But Dowoon really wasn’t comfortable with this, taking a couple of small steps back to try and put a little more distance between him and this weird stranger. Like he was going to trust someone who knew exactly where to find him, it was not like he had told anyone where he was going to be. It was all just too suspicious for him to feel comfortable about this, so he remained silent, hoping that maybe he could fool the guy into thinking he wasn’t there so he could leave again. 

Or get him to admit what he was there for without having to say anything himself and give away his location. 

Jimin’s plump lips formed somewhat of a frown when Dowoon opted to remain silent instead of investigating why it is Jimin would appear looking for him. The male supposed he couldn’t blame him, he knows he’d be quite uneasy if the roles were reversed, so Jimin didn’t let impatience edge his voice, in fact, it was the opposite. The smells and sounds he had been experiencing only after standing in this structure for a few minutes let Jimin know Dowoon had not been in his best conditions. It was cold and muggy, most likely dark and foggy around. Jimin can’t imagine having to live in these conditions, he can’t imagine anyone living in these conditions, and because of this, Jimin felt a bit more inclined to help, and his empathy bloomed all the more in his chest. His eyes softened, “Dowoon-ssi, it’s okay to come out, I’m not here to hurt you. I only have some messages,” Jimin assured, he was reluctant to say who he had brought the messages from, telling people their dead loved ones were in the room as they spoke seemed to freak people out more than it delighted them, Dowoon already was apprehensive and closed off at the thought of interacting with Jimin, there was no need for the blind man to make it worse.

Speaking of blindness, Jimin had impeccable hearing. The faintest sound of ruffling could be heard, and by instinct, Jimin’s head snapped to the source, though, there was really no point as he couldn’t see exactly where Dowoon was, but he could feel him, and only a second ago heard him. Jimin cautiously took another step forward, and before he could speak again, the young girl was nudging his side, an action he presumes for him to be a bit bolder with his attempts at rousing Dowoon to trust him. However, anyone would agree his presence isn’t all that inviting. Mysteriousness took up for any softness Jimin could possess, as well as how ghostly he could appear, people were more terrified of him than willing to trust, and Dowoon didn’t seem like the type to open his arms in the first place, let alone for a freak that looked like Jimin.

Jimin didn’t really know how else to convince the boy, “I’m Jimin,” he introduced, “Park Jimin. You don’t know me and I don’t know you, but like I said I’m definitely not here to hurt you but to relay a message. A message that I think you’d like to hear. I don’t want to startle you, by any means, but this message I’ve come to pass is only urgent because it comes from your sister, your family. I know they have passed -- I mean what I have said. I have a message for you, from her, your sister. She wouldn’t stop until I found you,” Jimin explained, “If you could come out, it’d be a lot easier for the both of us. I’m willing to answer any questions you have, of course, but please Dowoon-ssi, come out.”

calling you

[pjmavt-blog]

“When you see me, when you touch me.”

[pjmavt-blog]

calling you

@avtdowoon

Usually, Jimin can disregard spirits enough that they become worn out from speaking to him but receiving no response. He tried extremely hard to hold out a bit longer, telling himself that the young girl that seemed to follow him around insistently would eventually give up because his willpower was a bit stronger than hers. He was terribly wrong. She would not stop, kept prattling on about her brother named Dowoon. He had never heard of such a character himself, but he never did -- spirits came from everywhere, knowing he had the gift to hear them. Sometimes it was a gift, other times, it was simply annoying -- just like it was now when he couldn’t have a minute to himself without a spirit bothering him to get these last words to their living loved ones. Jimin doesn’t complain, though, he’s kinder than that. He understands the heartache these people might have gone through, having died abruptly, or having not said everything they’ve ever wanted to. But, sometimes he needed a break. Today just wasn’t one of them he supposes.

He finally relented to the girl after nearly a month of her pestering, he promised her that when the sun went down, and the cemetery traffic slowed to only the chirping of crickets, he would then find this Dowoon with her guidance and relay what she wanted to say to him. Jimin had briefly registered more presences, jittering with hope, and mirth from his promise, but he ignored them and simply asked the girl to leave him to some peace until then. As soon as dusk had fallen, and the cemetery calmed, the girl was right next to Jimin, hovering over him like a chilled ray of sun, and he could do nothing but smile at her persistence. He couldn’t tell her age, but he assumed she didn’t die old, her actions at least held a youthfulness that reminded him of his own younger sister. He steeled himself, not wanting to get too emotional before he embarked on what he was sure would be a quest.

“Lead the way,” he told her and followed her presence as would a living person to another. She finally didn’t talk much, not while she led him, he figured she was too concentrated on finding his energy than talking his ear off like she normally would. When Jimin finally got to what he perceived to be close, she seemed to stop, and she felt her chilly hand touch his cheek -- he could feel him too. She mumbled something about this being where he stayed to live sometimes, but from the lack of buzzing from streetlights, and the quiet hum being non-existence that usually is consistent with people, Jimin was perplexed, however, he simply nodded and followed his energy on his own. Realizing he had felt it before, only briefly, maybe a cross of paths, but he had.

He walked and walked until he feeling against the cracked brick, leading to a doorway where the air seemed to drop even more, but perhaps the spirit beside him did that to the atmosphere. He walked and let his senses lead him, the taps of his feet indicating if things were close enough for him to run into or not, and when he finally felt as if the energy was close enough that he could speak to, he stopped. He wasn’t exactly sure where to look.

“Dowoon-ssi?” he questioned, only hearing his echo bounce from the walls for the time being, but he kept his head down to listen for a voice, and to hopefully not immediately give away his lack of sight. People seemed to underestimate him when he made it obvious. She could hear the girl’s soft sighs next to him and the entering of more spirits when his echo had stopped.

[pjmavt-blog]

hi folks, my name is dee and this is my bat baby jimin. hmu if you want to plot or like this post and i’ll slide in your dm’s. i’m so excited for this muse yoll dk. i’m lowkey late, but under the cut is stuff about witchypoo jimmi, pls read :) EDITTED.

so, jimin is such a bean and his sob story is kinda long so i’ll cut it short

he comes from a coven of powerful witches that only use their pure magic for good. 

every witch initiated takes an oath to never use their magic for selfish or malicious purposes. jimin never thought he’d become a victim of that because he’s so sweet and kind and follows all the rules and listens to his elders, all that. 

however no one warned him about demons and he got caught up with one. basically the demon fucked with his emotions on purpose and made him so full of rage and envy he suffocated a innocent girl to death with his magic 

he was kicked from the coven, they blinded him, and turned his pure magic dark. and made him look somewhat dead with ghost pale skin, and took the pigment from his hair so it’s a really light blond. his eyes are that blind person blue? if that makes sense. 

so now he’s all alone because his family can’t contact him lest they get kicked from the coven too, and he works at a cemetary. (go figure) he gets empowered from being around dead things, not be cliche 

his only friends are the spirits that come to him, and the dead people he raises. 

he also has death sense and can sense when someone’s about to die, dying or dead. and he can tell if someone has died in a certain location recently. 

he’s still a witch but is now limited to spell books, rituals and potions instead of having the magic engrained in gestures and just in his bones if that makes sense? 

he’s blind – so his other senses are heightened x100. don’t think you can slide passed him just because he can’t see. his hearing and touch his superb. but he hates the darkness.

speaking of darkness he acts like a bat because the sunlight or light in general makes him very uncomfortable, so he rarely comes out during the day. 

aka his life is miserable going from a pure magic, nature witch to.. well.. this. 

he’s still a good person, though. when he sees people taking the deaths of their loved ones really hard at the cemetary he’ll talk to them and if their loved one has come to him with messages he’ll relate them so the person will feel better. or worse sometimes. 

the thing about jimin resurrecting the dead is that they won’t come back as themselves because their soul isn’t in their body anymore. they’ll come back as well, a zombie. 

i’ll try to have some premade plots up soon, but until then pls hmu and give my hun some plots pls and ty.

[pjmavt-blog]

© Mini Mouth | Do not edit.

[pjmavt-blog]