#bts grim reaper au

[blueberrykenn]

What Happens After Dark

Chapter 1: Yoongi’s Unwanted Attention

When enemies, Min Yoongi and Kim Taehyung run into a stranger who not ready to die yet and ask Yoongi to go to some college party Taehyung doesn’t like that

Grim Reaper BTS AU

Pairing: a mix of all ot7 ships

Words: 1K(short so sorry)

Fic Warnings: Dead dove, death,blood, Maknae line being the crackheads they are

Chapter Warning: arguing, Suicide and a curious Jimin

Inspired by @ashanpan AU comic

Yoongi Point of View

"Yoongi, Taehyung you two are working together today for these corrupts"

Seokjin; the first one of the soul collective society had announced while reading what his floating clipboard was saying.

I groaned as we don't get along quite well "Why the loud snake; I would rather the giant nerd kid than him"

I hear Namjoon gasp as Taehyung himself popped his head from the floor and say "Hey! I'm delightful!"

"You literally made everyone think that you were a historical figure the last time you were in the world like that Taehyung!" Seokjin had said while laughing while he rolled his eyes at Seokjin "I am a historian figure I'm Kim Taehyung" as I'm walking to the mortal portal I grumble

"Lets go already and get this over with before I have an aneurysm and die"

I see Jungkook nodding and then his eyes widening "HYUNG YOURE DEAD!"

I laughed as I'm teleporting with an annoyed Taehyung as we set foot into some building for a business while in a building we hide right outside of one of the windows as we see where the souls came from we see a guy and a girl doing what it seems like a suicide pact and they have hung themselves, Taehyung opens the window and I follow as he grabs searches the female's body and I search the male body, then we see it its a two headed snake, not a very powerful corrupt soul but its still corrupt

"Aww look at this cute thing!" Taehyung shrieks and I knock off his hat "dumbass its the two souls they are trying to fuse together" I take my staff and slice one of the head's off while I I collect one of the soul I hear Taehyung scream "Yoongi! WHAT THE FUCK?!" I roll my eyes as I see Taehyung looking away while slicing the other head off the corrupt's head off while he jars up the other soul as we make our way to our next location

While we're walking down the sidewalk nearby a college we see some girl walks up to me in a flirtatious way and say "Hey there! You're hot why don't you come to this party, I can send you the address" The unknown female says as she takes her phone out to type out the address, before she even can type anything Taehyung steps in front of me and in a pissed off tone he tells the female

"He didn't bring his phone sweetie" she then tells Taehyung "I can send it to you, you're also hot" he then shakes his head.

"No thanks."

"There no harm with two extremely hot guys at some college party"

"It Might."

Taehyung then knocks the girl out before alternating her memory and I semi yell.

"Taehyung! You can't be doing that to people" he then shrugged

"She was clearly flirting with you and I got annoyed so it had to be done, besides she wont remember a damn thing about the interaction between us"

Taehyung Point of  View

I don't know why but that girl was getting on my last fucking nerve by being so damn annoying so i had to knock the shit out of her; as we continue the corrupt missions today

once we are done and walk back into the portal Yoongi being the lame buzzkill he is; is already fucking telling what I did to Namjoon hyung

"Yeah he knocked her out and altered her memory like he supposed to be doing that every fucking time he in the mortal world control him Namjoon before I fucking do and you know I'll do some shit."

I see Namjoon holding Yoongi's shoulders before Jungkook comes around and lead Yoongi to a different area then where I am. I I roll my eyes and sit next to Namjoon as I see him giving me a glare and lecture me

"Tae, we don't alter people's memories, Imagine if you didn't know how to properly alter memories, Jin hyung would have an aneurysm and then the demons would capture the poor innocent soul and corrupt it before she even died and then imagine the amount of power that soul would have"

I stood up as I defend myself in a loud tone

"She was so fucking annoying and was flirting with fucking reapers what do you expect me to do go to some college party; if I remember correctly the last time that happened Jungkook and I were in heaps of trouble just for coming back drunk" Namjoon gave me that look like he's going to be continuing his lecture, which he does by saying

"Regardless; Tae you know you can't be messing with the mortals like that, it alters their lifespan, for all we know she'll be on tomorrow's list of corrupts you don't want that do you Tae?" as he explains it i shook my head at his question, understanding the circumstance I put Myself and Yoongi in as we're not exactly mortals and say in a low tone "Sorry Namjoon hyung, sorry Yoongi hyung" as Namjoon nodded i flopped back and dozed off as I was thinking back at today's events

Meanwhile at the exact same time

Jimin's Point of View

"Hey Hobi hyung, isnt that the reapers that Jin has control in?" I look over at my boss/only friend before I see him nodding before I hear him mumble "Where has the cat and snake wander off to, Jimin follow them, but dont intervene" I nod and follow them around from a distance that's where i see the cat and snake arguing while I see a passed out girl in between the two as they walk up I go up to the girl and place a kiss and whisper a chain of words to get her soul to strong for her innocent body before I continue my venture of following the cat and the snake.

They seem intriguing. Almost intoxicating.

[sweetcarrotsandroses97]

To Dance With Death | JHS

Pairing: Grim Reaper! Hoseok x Messenger! Fem! Reader

Summary: To live. To die. And option Hoseok never had. For he only walked this Earth with a purpose given by fate. But when he met someone like him, for the first time he felt his heart beat. Even when you were to die by his kiss. A kiss of poison and bliss.

Warnings: angst, fluff, love at first sight, dancing under the rain, talks of life and death, open ending?, poetical writing, mentions of what happens after dying though it doesn't conclude on a certain theory, character death, feelings of wanting and yearning for someone/something, heavy themes involved, (let me know if I missed anything!)

A/N: I've been wanting to write for sweet Hobi for a long time and I finally found some inspiration to write this, I really hope you'll like this short story as I'm currently working on my other projects to post here! Let me know what you think in the comments!

Word Count: 2.04k words

Life was in different shades of grey. Some were lighter and others were darker but it was always grey. The colour of death. Of nothingness. Of emptiness. Of everything that once touched this Earth. 

He walked among the night. A man without shadow. A man with many names. A man dressed in black. To some, he was the devil; to others he was salvation. He was a curse but he was also a blessing. He was cruel yet he was also merciful. For he took the lives of the mortals. He took them to allow them to cross the other side. He took them from the land of the living, he took them to complete the natural cycle. 

He had seen many live and wither away, like a flower during winter days. He had witnessed wars, love stories and heartbreak. Yet he couldn’t understand it. Jung Hoseok, a man known in different ways, with many names in many places couldn’t understand the core of human existence. 

Emotions.

For he was no human and neither was he a paranormal being. He simply existed; watched. Hoseok had lived through centuries and generations. Always as a spectator. Not meant to intervene in mortal’s affairs. 

Rain was falling over Seoul yet he wasn’t drenched in the cold liquid pouring from the dark skies. His feet carried him through the busy streets yet no-one saw him. No-one was meant to either way. Everyone was entertained by their thoughts or cellphones, mundane ideas swarmed in their heads. No-one noticed him, not while living like this. Not while being this. 

Grim reaper. 

That was one of his many names. Some people feared him while others saw him as an old acquaintance. His duty for the night was almost done for he was feeling the pull once more. That feeling that led him to the unfortunate souls of this world. Almost like an instinct. An intuition that allowed him to walk among the land of the living with a purpose. 

Cold air blew his soft locks slightly, yet he was unable to distinguish that freezing sensation. Life was unfair. Perhaps there existed no such thing as “fairness” but that feeling had been living with himself for some time now. It could have been days or maybe years, time didn’t exist for Hoseok. He simply existed with a purpose. No other thing mattered to him than to fulfil his job.

He arrived at a small plaza in a cute little park where the rain droplets reflected through the blurry street lights. He sighed, seeing a woman dressed in a grey dress standing alone, below one of the street lights, rain falling upon her. 

Hoseok approached her, his steps graceful; delicate even. As if he were floating among the clouds. The moment his eyes landed on her, his breath hitched in his throat. Not believing who the person in front of him was. Or rather, the being with translucent beauty. 

“You’ve come at last.”

You spoke, not looking at him. You felt his presence, just like any other misfortunes in this world throughout all your existence. 

“Your soul is to be reaped tonight.”

You turned around, eyes meeting with the ones of the tall man before you. You weren’t drenched in rain like a normal mortal. You were able to see Hoseok and feel his freezing presence. You were not a being of this world. Not a mortal. But a creature of purpose, just like him. 

“I have no soul in my body.”

“I know.”

A moment of silence passed between you both, only the sound of rain hitting the ground could be heard, as if drowning their thoughts, his mind in sorrowful consequences.

“I have never seen one of your kind.”

You smiled softly up at him, turning your back to him to watch across the park, he stood next to you. Taking in your presence. A lovely being that also paraded this world in silence. Never seen, never heard. Only when needed were you revealed to the blind mortal eyes. 

A Messenger.

“Not many have.”

He took in the melancholy in your words, feeling the emptiness in your words drown his heart. Even when it didn’t beat inside him.

“May I know the name of my reaper?”

 He looked down at you, taking in your beauty. Messengers were known for their beauty among the Invisible Walkers in this world. His eyes couldn’t help but wander to the colour of your eyes or the curve of your lips. Your beautiful skin illuminated under the soft light reflected in the rain. Your hair, ever so dry and soft to the eye. You, a Messenger with such beauty and never seen. Always silent. Always unseen. 

“Jung Hoseok.”

You smiled at the sound of his name. A last memory before you were to cease existing. 

“I’m (y/n). Just (y/n).”

A soft breeze whistled against his honey skin. Eyes darting across the park. His heart constricted in his chest.

Your breath hitched in your throat when you felt his bigger hand engulf your own. His touch, although it would normally freeze skin, it warmed your insides. You looked at him, meeting his dark eyes. 

“You have one wish at the palm of your hand that I can grant you. Fate’s last gift to you.”

His voice was deep, carrying all the weight of the world. All the souls of the mortals he had reaped before spoke those words with him in an afterglow of echoing songs. 

“Dance with me.”

Hoseok tilted his head. Absolutely mesmerised by your beauty, your existence. 

“What an odd request.”

You smiled up at him, eyes reflecting the tears of mourning over your destiny. 

“I have seen the mortals do it. They dance when they are happy, when they celebrate something.”

His other hand rested on your waist, eyes never leaving your own as he murmured his next words. Only yours to be heard. 

“And what are you celebrating? Why are you so reluctant at the time of your demise?”

A moment of silence passed, your hands against his body. One in his hold and the other on his shoulder. 

“I have fulfilled my mission. I have no more messages to deliver. I have completed my purpose on this Earth and I think that’s beautiful.”

Hoseok lifted an eyebrow, slowly swaying with you in his arms. A silent dance among the humans. A soft bond between the two Invisible Walkers who had only met once but it felt like they have spent a lifetime together. 

“You think death is beautiful?”

You chuckled, twirling around before returning to your original position. 

“I think life is beautiful. Death is a culmination of it. Death is a part of life.”

The sound of rain was the only thing that could be heard as you both swayed under the dark sky. 

“I have waited for this day to come for a long time. Thank you for granting me my last wish, Hoseok. If I am to be reborn, may this be my first memory. And if this is the end of my whole existence, may I live in your memories forever.”

He smiled down at you, swaying softly to the sound of rain. He felt his heart pounding in his chest for the very first time, butterflies swarmed in his stomach and he couldn’t fight the heart-shaped smile on his lips.

He felt a pull towards you, to be close to you. As if he had loved you for centuries while only meeting you a couple of minutes ago.

Hoseok wished in that exact moment, while he had you in his arms as the both of you swayed elegantly, to have more time with you rather than this small and sad interaction. He wanted to get to know you and listen to the stories you kept hidden in your heart that no-one else has ever heard before.

He wanted to experience what it'd be to live. He envied the mortals that very second for their simplicity in living, in loving and in dying. He envied mortality for he was a being with no time so his death and his existence were never marked in the universe.

"Such beauty. Such secrets."

He murmured, resting his chin over your head as the time he had with you, the first Messenger he has ever come across in his eternal life, was coming to an end.

"Thank you for dancing with me tonight."

You said while resting your head against his chest. Hoseok looked down at you, his hands left your waist to rest on your cheeks, marvelling at the warm skin that his touch didn't kill. Your hands were in his wrists as you gazed into his eyes, allowing yourself to experience the moment. Like the humans you had seen doing before. You, for the first time in your life, lived.

You felt a strong pull towards him as if you were oil and he was your fire. A flame burst between you two. A flame that was going to extinguish with the rain of death.

"It's time. Are you ready?"

His murmured words reached your ears, making a shudder travel up your spine. You couldn’t come up with any word to say, leaving you to answer with a subtle nod. 

“I have a last message for you.”

Hoseok stopped leading the soft dance you both had been tangled in, his eyes pierced yours allowing you to deliver your last message on this earth before your very own death. 

“Do not forget how beautiful it is to live. Cherish your immortality and I request you to not forget this humble messenger who would like to know life by your side.”

“I could never forget you, (y/n). The most beautiful Messenger that ever walked this cursed land. You are immortal in my memories.”

You smiled, feeling tears at the corner of your eyes. For he has granted you the forbidden fruit that could never be yours. To live for eternity. Even in his mind. 

Hoseok leaned towards you, a tear escaped the corner of your eye when his lips met yours. It was delicate, calculated. A soft kiss that spoke centuries of experience. Centuries of history. Your eyes closed and you kissed him back, feeling your body get lighter in his embrace before darkness consumed you. Hoseok watched you disappear before him. No soul resided in your body, there was no chance for you to ever enter The Parabellum, that place where matter nor time existed. The place that allowed the mortal souls to reach their final destination. What was further The Parabellum was beyond his knowledge but he knew, you simply ceased to exist. 

Invisible Walkers did not have a soul. They weren’t judged like the humans, they weren’t sentenced to whatever punishment existed for the mortal souls. You all just stopped walking the land of the living. 

Hoseok witnessed how you turned to a soft silver dust that floated above the skies, leaving him alone in the Earth he had walked for centuries on end. He sighed, feeling his heart constrict within him. 

“Such beauty, such secrets. Lost to the universe, lost to this world.”

His words got carried by the wind and the rain that never stopped falling. As if the skies were mourning your death. Remembering your existence. 

Hoseok left that place in silence, like always. Realising that taking your life, was the only one that left remorse in his mind. He could still feel how your hand had felt in his, how your body was pressed against his own and the feeling of your lips still lingered over his very own. 

A sudden melancholy took hold of his heart, silently mourning you. Is this what humans feel when they lose someone they love? He asked himself a question that remained without an answer for he couldn’t know. 

He didn’t love you yet he couldn’t deny he was absolutely mesmerised by you. A Messenger of a fallen world who danced with death until her last breath.

Life was in different shades of grey. Some were lighter and others were darker but it was always grey. The colour of death. Of nothingness. Of emptiness. Of everything that once touched this Earth. 

Nov/05/2023

~Masterlist

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

[minniepetals]

cry me a river | the unprepared

— summary: no one is ever prepared to be broken, even if they think they are, and breaking again and again does not make you numb to the pain

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, mafia!au

— word count: 7.0k

— warnings: slight ptsd trigger

— PART 23 / previous post / masterpost

“Would you be able to send this letter to the address written on it? Personally?”

The girl you saved is named Ester, and without fail, people whose lives have been saved often feel indebted to their savior, so you know it would be right to have a little faith in her when you give her this task.

And as expected, she’s nodding without question and goes on her merry way.

It was the first thing you asked of her after all, because when you told her you had no need for the help she wanted to offer you with the injuries you sustained at the party along with wanting to help you feel comfortable in Alexander’s mansion, you could tell she was immediately angsty and in need of wanting to do anything you asked of her.

Nice girls like her often get taken advantage of.

Well, that’s none of your problem.

You take care of yourself with the treatment Ester provided for you, treating the cuts from where the bullets managed to wheeze past you, and bandaging yourself up before leaving the room provided for you.

Little Kiwi comes barking at your feet before you even reach the grand living room and despite not one to give or show affection, you pick the little thing up albeit reluctantly.

“Kid, isn’t it about time you head to sleep? And don’t lick me again, please, that’s quite rude.”

You hear a gentle chuckle from a familiar deep voice and finally walk into the living room to find both Alexander and Asher already there.

“Dogs don’t necessarily understand rudeness, though he listens to you quite well,” Alexander notes at the obedient puppy in your arms. He doesn’t wiggle around or bark and remains nestled where you hold him. When you take your seat on the sofa with a small space between you and Asher, the old man speaks again. “I heard you refused treatment from my people.”

You clear your throat awkwardly. “Forgive me, I’m not used to foreign touches.”

He knows you don’t mean “foreigners” per se and narrows his gaze slightly, possibly out of curiosity. “You have quite the skills, young lady, for having an unknown name.”

“My name is Y/N,” you tell him, sitting up. “I am a Reaper, the Grim Reaper of South Korea. My father passed away about a year ago, he was a good friend of your son Karl.”

“Karl.” He rubs his chin thinking about it. “So why have you come to Norway? To meet up with Karl?”

“Karl and I have never been that close, sir.” Of course not, you hate that man. Seeing his face alone will make you want to punch him but you know better than that. So keeping yourself calm, you look away to the side where the windows are, covered by pretty rose gold curtains. “I came here because I quite like the way the sun never sets during this time. It brings me peace.”

“You’re on vacation?” He raises a brow, doubtful, and looks toward Asher for confirmation but the man just shrugs without giving him an answer.

“You could say that,” you reply, and the old man clears his throat.

“It takes someone special to dodge all those bullets without managing any fatal injuries,” he returns to the topic of the matter as he leans back into his seat, an ankle propped onto a knee. “My son never mentioned someone like you, or his good friend.”

“The skills I acquired were not from my father, sir.”

“So you had a different master?”

“I was trained by a Yakuza master. He goes by the name Kitagawa Daisuke.”

Kitagawa Daisuke. Anyone who lives in the darkness knows the name. It’s almost like saying Shakespeare and an immediate ding pops into one's head. Your master is that famous in the underground world.

“No wonder..” Alexander looks at you with fascination now, a small crooked smile curling along his lips, eyes brightening. He knows not just anyone can call themself a disciple of Kitagawa Daisuke and it just further proves a point as to how dangerous the mission will be when you finally go up against your master. That is, if time will allow it. Who knows if you’ll even survive this mission.

You’re just dancing around with death at this point and he’s leading the moves.

“Now that you mention it, you have a sort of aura that you exude in the way I’ve seen with Master Kita. You live up to his name, no disciple of his would have let the enemies’ move confuse her.”

He must be talking about how you managed to recognize the motives of the enemies when you realize the focus was not on Alexander himself but his grandson, Asher Larsen. 

You give the man a small glance before looking down at the puppy who’s now slowly dozing off in your lap. You give him a small scratch behind the ear, doting on him a bit. Who would have thought even the enemies knew the life of a dog mattered more to Alexander than his own grandson.

So Asher was right when he said Alexander doesn’t have favorites, which means that if someone does manage to gain his favor, it wouldn’t just be in your favor but you’d have more eyes on your back more than before.

Sounds like a headache.

But it’s the only way you can get rid of Karl. Because if you gain Alexander’s favor, it’ll mean he won’t blink an eye when you tell him you want his own son dead.

“Master told me to always keep my senses heightened no matter the situation.”

He hums at the answer and in a way, you hope this little attention you’ve gained from Alexander is enough to gain a bit of his favor. They say Alexander doesn’t like people who deliberately kiss up someone’s shoes to get to where they want. He’s probably had enough of those people. He also likes people who have a backbone and knows how to protect themselves.

“How would you like to be my new caretaker for Kiwi?” The proposal Alexander gives has your head perked up his way, feeling a bit dumbfounded and surprised, but he continues before you can reject or accept the offer. “You’re here on vacation, aren’t you? I’m sure Kiwi would love to continue seeing you until it’s time for you to return home.”

Perhaps he knows a bit of your plan. Perhaps he doesn’t. Either way, he’s giving you a great opportunity to remain seen by his side.

“I know it may sound a lot asking a mafia boss but I quite like you, Miss Y/N.”

“No, it’s quite alright,” you shake your head lightly and look down at the now sleeping puppy in your lap before giving Alexander the answer. “I’d gladly accept.”

He smiles, satisfied, and when he leaves after taking the sleeping puppy from you, you’re left alone with Asher who had been silent the whole exchange between you and Alexander.

“I’m impressed, that was quite the feat. No one’s ever gotten this far this fast.” When you look at the man who’s finally speaking up, there’s a small curl up his lips when he looks your way, and you guess this man is usually stoic for the most part. How great you’re earning a bit of favor from both the grandfather and the grandson.

“I guess it’s just in my nature to have people join my side.” You give him a simple reply, one he does not refute, and the day ends with that.

You don’t get a wink of sleep at all staying there in that mansion and you know it’s because you’re in an unfamiliar place. You’ve never been good at adapting to something new. It took some time for you to settle into the Bangtan manor when you first moved there years ago, but unlike how it was there and back at your own manor, Alexander’s mansion gives you some sort of comfort you’ve never had before.

It’s probably the fact that night never comes. Your room has windows placed at a good spot, where the sun seems to shine through even though there are clouds blocking part of it. It isn’t as bright as it was when you first arrived at the airport but when it still lights up the sky around three am, you’re grateful for being here, in Norway.

Norway is pretty in a way Korea has never been and being here, despite the mission you’re on, gives you a sense of peace and calmness Korea has never given you. It’s a foreign country and yet something about it, something about the sun not being allowed to set and give way to the stars and moon, to the darkness, you have the urge to stay here if you could. Forever if possible.

But peace can never truly stay forever as long as you live this life.

You have people to go after, a revenge plot you’re on. Maybe when everything is over, if you manage to survive in the end and meet your last victim without dying, maybe then you can return here.

But first comes earning Alexander’s favor.

“You’re going to be in charge of taking care of his dog?” Hoseok’s face is a bit comical when you relay them the news once morning comes and you arrive back at the place Namjoon has provided for you. “Just what do you know about taking care of dogs?”

“Not much,” you admit as you scroll through your phone in hopes of learning, “but Alexander’s given me a bit of trust so I might as well take the opportunity. Ah, speaking of,” you put your phone down for a second, looking between the two Bangtan men, “don’t the two of you have some experience in taking care of dogs? You’ll teach me, then.”

It’s a request that comes out of nowhere, especially after just dropping the bomb on them, but it’s not like there’s anything else they can really do.

Namjoon sent them here in support for you and despite the awkward air around each of you, you’re one to ignore all signs and pretend everything is and has always been alright.

“Well an important part of a dog’s routine is taking walks,” Jungkook speaks up after being quiet for a while. His brows are slightly furrowed, thinking. “Mr. Larsen has actually given you quite the task.”

He’s right.

Taking a dog out on walks means being out in the open air where enemy eyes are everywhere. If last night proves that Kiwi serves more purpose to Alexander than his own grandson — and the enemies know that — then being the dog sitter isn’t just any mere maid’s job.

They have to be smart, agile, quick, and strong because they’re looking after what equals an heir.

You’re basically Kiwi’s bodyguard.

“Maybe this is his way of testing me.” It has to be. He couldn’t just have trusted a random stranger to take care of something that clearly means a lot to him. Though that begs the question as to why.

Is it because you mentioned Kitagawa as your master? He’s quite well known after all, and well respected at that.

Still, something’s a little weird.

But if you’re trying to get close to the old man, you might as well take advantage of this while not forgetting to remain cautious.

No one can ever be trusted fully. There is always an ulterior motive behind one’s action.

“I have a question, sir.” When you return to the manor a little later that day, the first person you go to is Alexander, who easily allows you into his proximity just minutes after you asked for his time. You thought initially it’d be a while until you get your reply, after all, he’s a Godfather who’s probably busy with all sorts of things, which is why it’s surprising the reply came so soon and was received well.

His butler didn’t lead you to an office, rather, you found yourself walking into a pretty greenhouse that sort of reminds you of the one back at home.

It’s massive in size though, that’s a difference, but you can clearly tell it’s being taken care of well in the way your Reapers takes care of your greenhouse.

“One moment, Miss Y/N.”

Alexander has his back turned to you when you find him towards a corner, with a water can in hand as he personally feeds the plants the amount of water needed with a serene expression on his face.

Kiwi, who had followed you when you were led by the butler, walks over to respectfully nuzzle against his master’s foot.

“Pretty, aren’t they?” The old man comments with a smile once he’s done watering the plants and places the can back in its place.

“It’s a surprise you’re able to keep them alive here,” you utter as you take another look around at the greens all around you. “I have one back in Korea, though my Reapers take care of them.”

Alexander takes a seat on a bench and Kiwi jumps over to lay on his lap. “Taking care of things personally brings me peace.”

“...Does it, now?” In a world where things are always chaotic, you suppose having somewhere to go to for peace is ideal. “I don’t have a greenhouse for personal taste though.”

“Do you grow poison?” He asks and there’s really no use lying.

“Amongst other things.”

He falls silent for a moment, a serene silence, and it’s strange the way he looks at you in a way no one’s ever done before. You’ve seen creepy old men before, met a couple of them personally against your will, but Alexander doesn’t remind you much of them. He stands out further, but in a way that isn’t bad at all and for some reason that brings you another sort of uncomfortable feeling you don’t think you’ve ever felt before. 

It’s strange and foreign, and perhaps he understands the effect he’s made on you because he lets out a light chuckle.

“I used to be just like you, little one.”

Your brows furrow at his words, confused. “I’m not sure I know what you mean, sir.”

“Always in a rush, never stopping to revel in the scenery.”

Because there’s no time for that. Time doesn’t wait for anyone and the enemies certainly don't. You’ve finally gained some sort of peace after your father’s death but even then, letting yourself go in order to be free from the chains isn’t exactly as easy as one may think.

You’re rushing because you want to reach peace, because you want a moment in time when things finally slows down and you’re okay with it, with the clocks existing, with the time ticking.

Peace doesn’t come to just anyone willingly.

“You’re anxious,” Alexander notes and perhaps you’re uncomfortable because he sees through a part of you that only people you allow in sees.

This is why you hate old people.

They can tell so easily because they’ve been through things.

“If I let time catch up on me, there will be nothing left in front of me.”

“Is that what you believe?” He asks, a hand running through Kiwi’s fur as the little dog begins to fall asleep. “What if what you want is already in front of you? Perhaps you just don’t want to face it because you’re afraid.”

Afraid?

Afraid of what?

But maybe he’s right. Maybe you know exactly what he’s talking about.

“You’re running away.”

Yes.

This man certainly does make you uncomfortable.

Not like the creeps, not like Leehyun, but not like Mister Butler either. Though in a way, there’s something familiar that you sense in him in the way you’ve felt with Mister Butler. As if he has a window to see through your soul.

But you’re sure not all old people know everything. They can only guess from what they’ve been given and seen.

You decide to keep your guard up.

“The question you wanted to ask,” perhaps he felt you trying to run from him so he changes the subject, “What was it?”

Right.

“When I take Kiwi out on walks, I’m sure you realize there may be people out there who will take advantage of those times. I don’t know the streets well and I don’t know who means well and who wants Kiwi dead. So I wanted to ask; the people that decide to come after me during Kiwi’s walk time, do you want them dead or alive when I bring them to you?”

So blunt and straight to the point, Alexander chuckles at that, amused.

“I’m sure a disciple of Master Kita will come to understand who poses a threat and who doesn't. I don’t care about the lives of those who want my little puppy dead. It doesn’t matter who they are, if they come after him, kill them. After all,” his eyes are gentle when he looks down at the puppy, though there’s a glint of danger that flashes in the light of his eyes, “only people with evil hearts will want to hurt an innocent puppy.”

Evil hearts. What a strange way to put it that way.

You get too curious not to ask; “Do you believe we aren’t evil? A little kid might subject us to the same category as them. We all kill after all. It doesn’t matter what, it doesn’t matter who. Killers are all evil in the eyes of some.”

He doesn’t think much on it when he answers your question. “In my eyes, many of us, like you and I, kill only for survival.” You and I, he says. “If an apocalypse were to happen, you’d kill a zombie for survival, wouldn’t you? You wouldn’t just it bite you and you certainly wouldn’t let them bite someone you care for. You’d kill them. For survival.”

He looks up, eyes as clear as day. “This business we’re in…we’re in the same boat.”

Killing to survive.

Killing because there is no other choice.

You don’t think you’ve ever met a man like him who seems so sentimental on life as if a part of him is satisfied with what he’s gone through but he also holds some regret, things he knows beyond you, years he’s lived more than you, and has gained wisdom from all the experience.

No one from this business has ever looked in the same lens as he does on life and you hate it.

You hate how it makes you feel.

So you drop the subject and leave the greenhouse, feeling that creepy sense of goosebumps on your body as you go.

When Kiwi wakes from his nap a little after, he comes to find you and you take him out on the walk you promised him before that meeting with Alexander.

The walk is nice, the scenery different from that of Seoul, and the breath of fresh air it allows you to intake with a piece of mind helps you remain calm and collected. Kiwi walks beside you without a leash, his little feet taking you down the paths as if he’s done this a thousand times before, with his little nose curious at every little thing around him.

He doesn’t ever stray away and you guess perhaps even the little one understands the dangers of what it means to be himself. In all honesty, you prefer cats over dogs but you have to admit this isn’t so bad — well, being in Norway helps, you guess.

In Seoul, the streets wouldn’t forgive you for taking a walk so carefreely like this.

But of course, Norway has its own dangers. You are taking care of a prominent figure of a powerful mafia after all.

For the most part, you had been following Kiwi and letting him guide you where his nose leads him, but when the two of you come towards a lake where lies a bridge at the center, the little puppy suddenly stops in his tracks, sniffs the air, before retracing back to you.

Your brows furrow slightly when he steps up to your feet, hiding in between them, and when you hear a small noise out of the ordinary and look up with a calm gaze at the sudden new presence that has now surround the both of you, an exasperated sigh leaves you.

So much for peace and quiet.

“Hey lady, what’re you doing with that dog?” A man asks in Norwegian.

“Dog sitting,” you reply in English.

They look amongst one another, confusion plastered on their faces probably because they’ve never seen you around before and when Kiwi grinds his teeth and growls lowly at them, you put a foot closer to him, trying to ease the little puppy.

“What happened to the old sitter? Dead?” He speaks up again, a brow raised your way. Perhaps he’s testing your ability to understand him so when he speaks in his language, you continue replying in English with perfect understanding of one another.

“Not dead. I’m just a temporary sitter.”

“And who are you? I’ve never seen you around Alexander before.”

“Just a common girl.” You take a small step back seeing the way he reaches for something in his pockets.

“You should know that the streets are dangerous.”

A little chuckle leaves you. “I wouldn’t be trusted with Alexander’s dog if I didn’t know that, now would I? Still, that’s a very bad idea,” you beckon at the gun he pulls out. “You wouldn’t want to do that.”

The corner of his lip curls upwards as he brings his gun forward to his face, playing with it just as his friends start to close in on you. “And why not? Are you afraid, little common girl?”

“Afraid?” You tilt your head back, laughing. “No, no, it’s not me who should be afraid.” He sends you a furrow in his brows at the way you look so relaxed and so you go on. “Alexander has already given me permission to eliminate anyone who poses a threat, which means I don’t have to go easy on you or spare your lives.”

“Really?” He scoffs, taunting you. “One against seven, you really think a little girl like you can take us?”

“Oh no, I’m not talking about me, though you’d be surprised I can totally take you.”

“What?”

“You should learn to heighten your senses, old man, maybe then you’d realize we aren’t the only ones here.” With that signal, someone from the group has their neck slashed from behind and another one gets shot right in the head. 

One by one, they fall as you calmly pick up the scared little dog and stroke along his head to calm him down. He leans into your touch as the two of you ignore what’s happening around you, and once he finally seems alright again, you turn back to where Jungkook and Hoseok are standing, the enemies all dead on the ground.

You take one glance down at the dead bodies before checking the time on your watch. “I’ll inform Alexander and have his people clean this up,” you say as you reach for your phone. “Meanwhile, would one of you like to accompany me back to his mansion? Take on the role Taehyung took back at London?”

Jungkook comes along while Hoseok stays back and the walk back for the most part lies in silence.

Drama only occurs once you return to the mansion, hearing the sound of a familiar voice you haven’t heard in some time now. He shouts angrily you hear it through the halls and when you walk into the living room, you find Karl Larsen with three of his men behind him, reprimanding poor little Ester with Asher standing off to the side, looking bored and exasperated of his uncle.

No one stops him.

“Are you that incompetent? Just how useless are you that my father has to choose a stranger to take over your job? I told you to keep an eye on that mutt and you can’t even do that?”

Huh. Who would have thought Ester was actually Karl’s servant who had been assigned to look over Kiwi before you came in to take over temporarily? Though from the looks of it, when she cowers in fear under his demands, her head lowered, eyes tightly shut, shoulders trembling slightly, she doesn’t like this man so much.

Who does after all?

But she did look a lot more carefree living in this manor, looking after Kiwi under Alexander’s commands. Alexander isn’t known to bring just anyone in to work for him, which means Ester managed to gain his trust. He’s good at knowing who to trust, he wouldn’t just be easily swayed by his own blood’s opinions, so if given the chance, you believe that Ester wouldn’t hesitate to betray Karl.

She’s a sweet girl, you don’t doubt that.

Asher on the other hand, you aren’t too sure if a man like him deserves the benefit of the doubt.

He senses your presence though, unlike Karl and his men, and when he looks up to meet your eyes from the entryway of the living room, he stands up a little more straight, a small curl turning upwards upon the corner of his lips.

Maybe he’s just bored with petty family affairs and has no say in what his uncle wants or does. Family positions are important in the mafia after all.

“Where is she? The new girl?” Karl’s voice snaps back, his eyes bulging and you step towards them despite Jungkook’s caution, knowing the signs of that man. “Bring her to me now, you useless—”

His hand raises in the air and before it can come down at the young girl’s head, you grab his wrist mid-air with your left hand, stopping him successfully. “If you’re really that upset about the change, why don’t you bring it up to your father, spoiled old man?”

His brows furrow tightly when he looks your way initially, before his expression begins to cool and soften when he realizes just who it is that dared to stop him from punishing his subordinate. The strength of his arm weakens and he brings it back to his side, fixing the cuff of his suit, while a smirk plays on his lips as he keeps his gaze on you.

“Y/N,” the way he says your name makes you want to vomit and though for a second looking at that familiar, disgusting smirk on his face causes your mind to want to resurface the memories of all the things he’s done, you keep them back in, focusing on other things to not trigger it. “Look at you, you’ve grown so much since the last time I saw you. What are you doing here in Norway? Came to pay me a visit?”

He doesn’t know what happened to your father, you realize through those words, which is a bit surprising because of how close the two of them were, but then again, after the wipe of your father and his people, it kind of makes sense Karl never got word of your father’s death.

Both Asher and Jungkook are confused about the way Karl is acting so friendly and close to you, as well as the way he just naturally turns his attention from being angry at Ester to invite you to take a seat.

You follow him and settle Kiwi in your lap and see the way he glances at the puppy, a slight bitterness contouring his features before it disappears all too quickly.

He doesn’t like Kiwi, that much is clear, and with the way he addresses you, you can tell this man still thinks you of the naive little girl who would submit to just anyone without fighting back.

“Your words are a lot sharper than they used to be,” he notes, remembering the way you spoke to him. “Seems you’re finally growing into the woman that your father trained you to be.”

With a hand stroking the fur of Kiwi’s, you take a look at his three men. One of them is someone you recognize, the other two are completely new faces.

“Tell me then, how have you been since I left Seoul?”

One year, he came and left — not even one year but a summer, four months — and that was all it took for him to do all the things he’d done.

“I have news to give you, sir,” you say and he tsks at you.

“Come on now, call me what you used to call me. We were close, weren’t we? Don’t treat me like a stranger now, Y/N.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder and you bite your tongue back, resisting the urge to run from his touch. So with a tight grin, you give him the news he’s been needing to catch up on. “I am the Grim Reaper now..uncle.”

That amused expression on his face falls slightly, masked with surprise and confusion, and he takes one look at Jungkook who stands guard behind you, before returning his gaze back on you, flabbergasted.

“Your father’s dead?” He breathes, not believing it. “Why didn’t anyone tell me? How’d he die?”

Telling him the truth now would lead to an outburst from him and you can’t have Jungkook seeing that. Karl is a madman and if he knows of the truth here before strangers outside his and your people, he will definitely forget about the way your true relationship with your father is supposed to be kept a secret from the public.

“I apologize, uncle, preparations for his funeral and my succession took longer than expected.” Jungkook knows those words aren’t true but thankfully he knows to keep quiet.

“I could have helped,” Karl insists and you give him a pressed smile.

It’s strange the way he can’t comprehend just why the daughter of his friend whom he’s hurt many times did not want him involved in her family affairs, but you guess the minds of psychopaths are just like that. They can understand human emotions but they cannot feel them, and so they cannot emphasize with others.

“Do you not remember all the things you’ve done to me?” You want to ask him. “Do you not recall what you and father had done? Why would I want your help?” But you bite your tongue back just as Kiwi stirs from your touch, probably sensing a change in you.

The more you face the people who have done you wrong, the harder it is to keep the facade, you realize. Namjoon once said to stop before it all breaks you and you told him broken things cannot be broken even more but perhaps they can.

They can.

You’ve reached your breaking point before, not just once or twice, and yet it seems the world has just proven to you that glass can keep shattering and shattering until there is nothing left but dust.

Are you prepared to turn into dust?

You are. You’ve said it before.

“A broken glass can never mend itself to the way it used to be, the only thing it can do is break even more.”

You were prepared, your body was, but is your mind prepared? Will your mind ever be prepared?

No one is ever prepared to be broken, even if they think they are, and breaking again and again does not make you numb to the pain.

Kiwi whimpers on your lap, his head nuzzling into the palm of your hand when you stop stroking him. They say that dogs can smell human emotions and in turn, adopt them as their own, and hearing the distress whimpers, you try to return to Karl and give him a reply and yet nothing happens. You can’t even open your mouth to speak. You feel frozen on the spot.

Why now? Why now, whynow, whynow,whynowwhynow?

Footsteps are heard upon the silence of the room. “What’s making my Kiwi sound like that?” A low rumble demands an answer but you remain still, unable to move.

You feel paralyzed.

Kiwi looks up at his master’s voice for a second before going back to nuzzle against you and lend you his warmth, and while the people in the room stand up straight at his presence, Karl even going up to greet his father, you remain planted on the sofa.

Alexander ignores Karl to walk over to where his puppy is. He takes a glance your way, with Asher confused and Jungkook concerned and a little panicked because of the state you’re in, but rather than making this a big deal and reprimanding you for causing his puppy to sound the way he does, Alexander instead remains calm.

“Come here, Kiwi,” he calls, and though the pup hesitates at first, looking between you and his master, he eventually jumps up and into Alexander’s arms. “Karl, I’ll deal with you later. Right now I’m too busy to entertain guests.”

Though Karl looks like he wants to protest at first, he nods in reply, knowing he cannot talk back to his father. You were hoping he’d just leave it at that and go ahead with his men but for some reason, he just has to turn to you.

“My deepest condolences, Y/N. Let’s have tea to catch up next time, yeah?” Unable to grasp the situation, he reaches out to place a hand on your cheek, a smile on his face, before he arches his back straight again to bid Alexander goodbye.

In that moment, you stand, though it’s only because staying on that couch feels disgusting now having to sit still and do nothing when he reached out to touch you. You hate the touch, it burns you, but you remain silent when you stand a little behind Alexander, nodding Karl goodbye, and only once he leaves does the room feel a little easier to breathe in.

Just a little.

.

.

.

“Should I call Mingyu?” Jungkook asks when you return to the room Alexander prepared for you that first night you met him. He watches you with keen eyes and observance as you walk further into the room, away from the door, eyes still refusing to look anyone in the eyes, silent with a blank expression. “Or..should I leave the room?”

You don’t give him an answer but you’re thinking.

How far is it from here to the manor Namjoon prepared for you? A couple of minutes away by vehicle, which means it wouldn’t be that difficult for him to come here. But him coming here would mean a hassle because then you’d have to let the people here know that Mingyu’s one of yours and you don’t feel like interacting with anyone right now. A letter in your handwriting wouldn’t suffice either because they don’t know your handwriting.

You could honestly call Ester and describe Mingyu’s face to tell her he’s with you but that would mean interacting.

Jungkook could leave the room and yet the thought of him leaving gives a small dread in the pits of your stomach because you hate being alone and left in an unfamiliar place and right now he’s the only thing that’s familiar to you.

Familiar.

How funny that this familiar person left you to fend for yourself and gave you his cold shoulders when you needed him most.

And yet there’s no other choice.

So just like back in London when you familiarized yourself with Seokjin’s warmth and kindness for that split second, you turn around to face Jungkook.

He stands far from you, having not moved from the door since the two of you walked in, and a part of you hates that despite what he’s done to you, you know Jungkook is a man with natural kindness and would never do anything that would harm you on purpose. You see it in the way he keeps his distance, in the two questions he asked, how he doesn’t try to approach you, that unlike Karl who doesn’t know how to take a hint, he understands your fear of being touched by men even though you did allow Yoongi to hold you and poked Seokjin slightly on the shoulder.

He respects your boundaries. He always had, he always did.

So why did it have to end with him giving you the cold shoulders and pretending he hated you? Why did things have to turn out the way it did?

You’re so tired. Tired of everything.

“Come here,” you call for him, and you hate how even when you give him permission to come close, he still hesitates, concerned for the state of your mind.

When he approaches, his steps are slow, and once he’s inches away from you, you hold out the palm of your hand.

“I want you to help me with something,” you say, “you don’t have to do much, just..stay still and…and give me your hand.”

His brows are knitted, eyes staring down at your palm as if this isn’t a good idea. “I’m sorry,” he tells you, feeling conflicted. “Hoseok should have been here, we should have switched places. He would’ve been a better choice in—”

“I know Hoseok would have been the better choice but we can’t turn back time now can we?!” Your patience is starting to wear thin and when he flinches a little at the way you raise your voice, your own eyes widen at what you’d just done. Shocked at how easy it was to lose control, and when you begin to spiral out of fear for raising your voice at him, you put your hands in your hair, trembling.

“I’m sorry, please just…just help me, Jungkook. You have to replace what he did. I hate it, I hate his touch, and right now I’d rather feel your touch than his so please…please?” You look up at him, not caring that you’re pleading and looking desperate.

When he sees it, sees the way your eyes gloss over with a glaze of water, at your panicked tone and your begging for his help, he gives you his hand.

You take it and press his palm onto your cheek, over that burning feeling from where Karl touched you, and the peace that you yearned for doesn’t come right away. You struggle for a bit and your legs almost give in from the weakness but Jungkook’s right there to hold you up and bring you over to the bed so that you don’t have to rely on your legs. 

He remains standing before you, watching as you rest your eyes while keeping his hand pressed to your skin.

It takes some time for the storm to wash away and for the calm to walk over but it comes, eventually, and when it does come, it isn’t in the way it is with Mingyu. Jungkook doesn’t give you the sort of calm that your second in command gives you, though you expected it because no one can replace Mingyu’s warmth.

The sort of calm Jungkook gives you follows with pain and grief over what had been lost all those years ago.

His warmth, his presence, his puppy-like self following you around, willing to do anything and everything for you. He’d always been such a quiet man who follows the rules well, who does everything with great effort, who is sometimes too naive and gets roped up in Jimin’s antics and gets scolded for things he didn’t do.

Always there to lend you his jacket when you shivered in the slightest way, always there to protect you from anyone that bothered you, noticing the smallest things, and though you relied on him for a lot of things, he relied on you in turn as well.

You understood him in ways the others couldn’t, the two of you in love like those two innocent little kids who were finding out what it meant to love someone for the first time. Soft and gentle, a bit awkward and clumsy.

“They didn’t have the drink that you like but I got you…” He walks back with a hand holding onto a glass of something for you to drink, but in the middle of his sentence, Jungkook’s expression falls. “...Something happened.”

Immediately, he’s shifting his head around to try and find who it was that approached you tonight but before he can get too far, you’re grabbing ahold of his arm and pulling his attention back on you. 

“It…nothing happened,” you insist with a bit of panic on your expression, afraid of what Jungkook might do out in public like this, all the while trying to see if you can catch of glimpse of Namjoon anywhere on the floor. Thankfully he isn’t around, otherwise he’d be able to also tell something was wrong with one look your way.

There are days when hiding your emotions are easy and there are other days when it’s a little more difficult. Like on the days when people make you uncomfortable and you just can’t seem to hide it well. Those days are hard.

And Jungkook, who looks back at you, clearly doesn’t buy your little protest. “Y/N, I need you to just point out—”

“Please.” You squeeze his biceps, holding yourself close to him, pleading with your eyes as you look up at him, and Jungkook immediately recognizes just what those eyes are trying to tell him;

‘Don’t leave me alone.’

You’re frightened, he realizes, and after a small look around the room to check his surrounding, he brings you in close to him and keeps you by his side as he takes your hand and brings you around to an empty space where the two of you can be left alone together.

“Is there anything you need?” Is the first thing he asks you as he sits you down on a seat in the empty room, but you simply shake your head and squeeze his hand tight.

“Just you,” you say in a quiet voice, and Jungkook stays with you that night without ever leaving your side, all the while you simply hold onto the touch of his hand, the feel of it a comfort unlike any other.

His touch reminds you of those memories, of the past and the tears and the smiles, and though you hate the pain that it resurfaces, you’d rather revel in this pain than the pain of remembering the memories with Karl.

[star-my]

BTS Fic Recs ☆ Ao3

These are all available on ao3 as of April 2024 (I had more but some fics/accounts weren't available anymore). Some require an account to view them. Some are likely crossposted on tumblr as well.

~TUMBLR RECS (iii) COMING~ ~Tumblr Recs (i)~ ~Tumblr Recs (ii)~

Almost all are complete works, those with "+" after WC are incomplete.

Most of these are Mature or Explicit (usually because of smut) ~ mdni ~ italicized titles rated G or T ~ Please read responsibly

OT7/Multi

☆ Scarlet Handprints by Risingstorm15 | Mafia AU, Vampire AU, Fantasy AU, Hybrid AU | Platonic OT7 | 17k

☆ I'm Not a Vampire (I Promise) by BBQKitten | Supernatural AU, Roommates AU | Platonic OT7 | 4k

☆ Make it Right by Eden (kurokimio) | Mafia AU | 175k

☆ Flux series by dailydoseofdia | Coworkers AU, Office AU | MYG + JJK | 65k+

☆ Break the Ice by minlouvre | Hockey AU | PJM + JJK | 46k

☆ Blood, Sweat, & Tears by dearprudencewithlove | Vampire AU | 750k

☆ Witchcraft series by fiar22 | E2L F2L Witch AU, School AU, Supernatural AU | MYG + PJM | 112k+

☆ The Snowball Effect series (collab) | 155k

Kim Seokjin

☆ {Unavailable}

Kim Namjoon

☆ Guilty by xJoonChildx | Mafia AU, PA AU | 17k

Min Yoongi

☆ Vows: aka 10 ways to win your husband's heart by hamsterclaw | Chaebol AU, Arranged Marriage AU | 60k

☆ From the Ashes by bangtanlove86 | Chaebol AU, Arranged Marriage AU | 48k

☆ Arranged Destiny by NunaWriter | Arranged Marriage AU | 21k

☆ Dating Advice by taleasnewastime | F2L Fake Dating AU | 54k

☆ The Arrangemint by Cassakane | Fake Dating AU, Neighbours AU | 9k

☆ and they were roommates (omg they were roommates) by JupiterJoon | Roommate AU | 10k

☆ Look down on me like that by heretobebtstrash | E2L Coworker AU, Office AU | 100k+

☆ The Email by itsallabouthedetails | Coworker AU, Office AU | 25k

☆ A Smartass and an Acutely Vulnerable Scenario by Slatternfemina | Uni AU, Coworker AU | 30k

☆ First Love, Last Love by ryenwrites | High School AU, Uni AU | 33k

☆ Melophile by thepencilnerd | R2L Uni AU | 43k

☆ Flightless Bird, American Mouth by orphan_account | Brother's Best Friend AU, Uni AU | 10k

☆ Matilda by lotuseaters | Brother's Best Friend AU | 140k

☆ If it's Love by tritchie2319 | Brother's Best Friend AU, Rapper AU | 19k

☆ Volume series by mintjoonlep | S2F2L Rapper AU | 87k+

☆ Countermelody by bonvoyage_noona | S2F2L Rapper AU | 100k

☆ Musk by Guessimaclotpole | S2L | 19k

☆ Any of ty_wl_95's one-shots, honestly

☆ His Angel by Nyleze | Mafia AU, PA AU | 72k

☆ Heartless by Ravendipity | Mafia AU | 175k

☆ Safety Pin by marchdahlia | Mafia AU | 38k

☆ Talking Bodies by bangtaninink | Pornstar AU | Minor Multi | 42k

☆ You Think You're So Tough by EvaMariee | S2L Stripper AU | 21k

☆ No Face by seokology | (Crossroads) Demon AU | 11k

☆ Ice Cold by mintedmango | E2L Supernatural AU, Krampus AU | 14k

☆ What is Written by Lu_luebells | Supernatural AU, Grim Reaper AU | 26k

☆ helLO pARADISE, mY NAMe IS by seokology | Greek Myth AU, Hades AU | 10k

☆ Owner Training by Ungnyeo | Hybrid AU, Roommates AU? | 27k

☆ The Velvet Devil by mxlia | S2L Vampire AU, Bar AU | 10k

☆ His First Love by Justimajin | Vampire AU, Reincarnation AU | 40k

☆ Please don't leave me by minhoneykisses | Established Relationship AU, Canon Idol-verse | 12k

☆ Blood, Sweat & Texts by JHopeissoOMG | Canon Idol-verse | 13k

☆ Willing Captive by JJ_daydreaming | Canon Idol-verse | 7k

☆ Rise of the Nation's King by Justimajin | Daechwita AU | 19k

Jung Hoseok

☆ Dalliance by sugalights | Established Relationship AU | 10k

☆ I Can't Betray You by Jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue | Mafia AU | 17k

☆ upbeat by fizzydrink698 | BFF2L Rapper AU, Uni AU | 12k

☆ an abundance of scrunchies by bluesxde | E2F2L Single Dad AU | 24k

Park Jimin

☆ Failure to Communicate by stutterfly + taehyungforreal | Uni AU | 21k

☆ Raise the Bar by DayStar | Vampire AU, Bar AU, Coworkers AU | 10k

☆ Married to a Playboy by Armygirl0616 | Arranged Marriage AU | 36k

☆ Never Falling by dailydoseofdia | Singer AU, PA AU | 20k

Kim Taehyung

☆ Not that good by taleasnewastime | Uni AU | 20k

☆ The Mob Boss Wants Forever! by ArielleWrites | Mafia AU | 45k

Jeon Jungkook

☆ Chasing Butterflies by ddaenggtan | Uni AU, Nerd AU | 13k

☆ Perverted Bunny Mask by Btsinned | E2L Mafia AU | 88k

☆ Devil in a New Suit by makotako | S2F2L | 23k

☆ Knights of the Night by StoryRodeo_333 | Uni AU, Vampire AU | 55k

☆ Kingdom Come by mintedmango | Dragon AU | 28k

☆ Make You Mine by ColorMePurplex2 | Omegaverse AU | 11k

☆ Chasing Shadows by ColorMePurplex2 | Sherlock AU | 22k

☆ Liability by AlexLorchan | F2L | 21k

☆ Prisoners of the Moon by wishfulwrites | Werewolf AU, Arranged Marriage AU | 42k

[peachywritess]

☁︎ Masterlist

© peachywritess

⥼ guide to reading

৲ ☆ smut

৲ ღ fluff

৲ ❀ angst

৲ ✈ ongoing

৲ ✎ completed

⥼ current works

OT7

unmei — OT7!BTS x fem!reader ☆ ღ ❀ ✈ unmei – 運命 (うんめい): a noun meaning 'fate’ or ‘destiny’ in Japanese. ⤜ reincarnation!AU, reverse!harem!AU, fem!reader, royal!au

Kim Seokjin

nothing yet...

Kim Namjoon

nothing yet...

Min Yoongi

nothing yet...

Jung Hoseok

nothing yet...

Park Jimin

nothing yet...

Kim Taehyung

till death do us part - kim taehyung x fem!reader ❀ ✈️ ☆ strangers to lovers, grim reaper!AU Coming soon...

Jeon Jungkook

workout agenda - jeon jungkook x fem!reader ☆ ✎ ღ best friends to lovers, personal trainer!jeon jungkook.

[mchiimii]

Jamais Vu | BTS [Twenty-Seven]

➜ Genre: Fantasy; Fanfiction

➜ Tags: fluff; angst; alternate universe; Alice in wonderland AU; flower shop AU; reincarnation; magic; soulmates AU

➜ Rating: Teen & Up Audiences (T)

➜ Pairing: BTS x Reader/Reader insert

➜ Warnings: none

➜ Word count: 2.6k

➜ Notes: Sorry, it took me weeks to write this. I'm in my 2nd year of college now so I'm preparing for another stressful year. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I appreciate it if you leave any feedback by liking or commenting on my post. Your simple interactions motivate me to write more ❤️

Telltales of a Cheshire Cat

ᵐ ˡᶦˢᵗ | ᵖʳᵉᵛⁱᵒᵘˢ | ⁿᵉˣᵗ

"Tell me everything you know."

Jungkook said bluntly as he sat on the bench of the hanok. He curved his back and lowered his head to look at the feline on the floor. The Cheshire cat glanced back at the human with a sigh. Yoongi refused to answer at first but if this is what the grim reaper wants, then he has to disobey the deities to avoid any conflicts with the other guardians' intentions. Truth is, he doesn't want to tell him anything about the human's fate until the month of dispersion. By the time May arrives, Yuna will remember everything. She will receive the last postcard of the fate deity to visit the Magic Shop.

"She's the flower thief," he looked at the man sitting across from him. "The fate deity charmed her years ago. She created a portal pond towards Wonderland. Yuna followed her will-o-wisp to steal the heart of the moon tree where the flower's soul transmigrated to hers. The deities told me to erase her memories once she comes back and encounters a guardian."

Yoongi looked down.

"I couldn't tell you that yet because I was tasked to keep it to myself. I can't disobey the deities because I'm cursed to be their familiar. But given that many conflicts have arisen, I have no choice now."

Jungkook pinched the bridge of his nose frustratingly, "You had to tell me that when a lot of things have happened to her."

"I understand why you're angry and believe me, I do want to tell you everything if it wasn't with their punishment. Even if I apologize right now, it wouldn't change what happened and I truly know that. I just hope nothing will change between us. Whatever the case may be, you will still listen to me just like what you're doing now—even if you see me as your rival or your enemy."

Jungkook leaned back and looked up at the ceiling with a blank expression. He had to process everything first before he ask another question.

Silence reigned for a moment. Only the gush of the wind outside was heard. Yoongi waited for the grim reaper to break the still air and speak again.

"Namjoon's right. She was charmed by a transmigration spell. That's why her soul radiance is different."

Yoongi nodded, "However since she has the oblivion curse, she's under a coma-trance too."

"What?"

"According to the deities, the coma-trance is a long slumber that allows the soul to recuperate from a terrible curse. If the Smeraldo flower wasn't merged with her, she'll die. The flower prolongs her healing period by refreshing her soul's memories. She'll remember not only her present memories but also her past. This includes her previous lives."

Jungkook straightened his posture and widened his eyes, "Does that mean—"

"Yes."

"I wasn't even finished yet." Jungkook scoffed.

"I know where your question is heading." he jumped on the seat beside him nonchalantly. "Whoever the character we encountered before is connected to the present Yuna we have as of now. I suppose she was reincarnated many times to cross paths with us. It's because she's indebted to us."

Jungkook tilted his head, "Is that why I couldn't see her past? How come I don't recognize her?"

"As I said, she was reincarnated many times. You couldn't see her past because they're broken or scattered. I only had the hunch she was reincarnated because she had the same face but a different character. I'm the illusion guardian, remember? I can distinguish illusions easily."

The cat licked his paws before gazing back at the grim reaper in his sparkling green eyes to continue his prophecy. Once Jungkook locked eyes with him, Yoongi continued his storytelling.

"We have to reconcile by becoming her guardian before the sins abduct us. If we fail to succeed in our task, she will disperse with us as well."

Yoongi looked by the window to watch the skies. His nose twitched at the sight of the weather outside. As the clouds stirred in feathered outlining, the feline watched the winter sky paint the snow-covered ground once again.

"If the flower wilts in her heart before we become her guardian, she will die alone. However, if we become her guardian and we fail to save the flower from wilting, she will perish with us in the underworld once the sins had completely outnumbered us."

"How do we prevent the flower from dying in her heart?"

Yoongi lightly smiled, "As cheesy as it sounds, we have to take care of her now that her mother will die on the first day of May. Her business will stop. She will join us in the Magic Shop. Winter will consume the whole city. And Yeomra will be waiting for the right time to take us."

Jungkook couldn't possibly process everything at once. He still has a lot of queries to ask especially if the human is now the heart of the moon tree. If she has the mana of the flower, does that mean she holds the heavenly magic?

"No," Yoongi looked at Jungkook. "I won't let Yeomra take us if we have her."

The Cheshire cat smiled as soon as the grim reaper connected the dots.

"Yuna has the heavenly magic right?" Yoongi nodded. "She can defeat Yeomra if she knows how to use her magic."

"Actually," Yoongi interrupted. "She has the emblem on her wrist. If I'm not mistaken, she receives mana from the moon at night."

Jungkook furrowed his brows, "Let me guess, the deities told you that?"

The cat hummed. "Remember when the shadow monsters attacked the whole city? Yuna wasn't cursed that time. The night we purified the evil spirit from the hexed humans, Yuna wasn't one of them. That could also mean one thing. If she survived Yeomra's shadow monsters, she might have used her heavenly magic without her knowing."

Jungkook formed his mouth into an ‘o’ shape. If Yuna wasn't cursed, why couldn't he purify the human he met on the road? He had a glimpse of how the female was brought there but she had no wounds to heal. Most humans had wounds during the nightmare phase but she had none.

"There's still one who survived." Yoongi looked at him.

"I had to tell Jimin and Taehyung if they ever encounter her. And Namjoon too once we all go back to the Magic Shop."

"I guess I have to tell them everything as well." Jungkook nodded.

"We can defeat Yeomra in two ways depending on the situation and the plan," the cat added. "She can practice her celestial magic or we break the transmigration spell by taking the flower's soul from her to transfer it back to the Tree Memoir."

"No way. If we do the second option, why did we even use her in the first place if we can just break the spell and take the flower back?"

Yoongi's nose twitched again, "I thought maybe if she has full control of her magic we can use her while defeating Yeomra. And the latter seems like a backup plan if she can't perform the training properly. Unfortunately, breaking the celestial spell may require excessive magic reversion. It might corrupt her soul or destroy her as well. It might create another consequence if we accidentally kill a human."

"If that's the case, then we should disregard the second option and weigh the former." Yoongi hummed, "That's true. But I'm still hoping we can have a stronger plan to defeat Yeomra especially if he finds out Yuna was the flower thief and the Smeraldo flower of the Tree Memoir."

"Now why should we be scared if he finds out she has celestial magic? He can't even take her mana either. Yuna can just kill him then and there if she mastered her training."

Yoongi shook his head. "I don't think we should be complacent. Yeomra is Namjoon's former ace student. I'm certain he knows most of the spells and curses. If he finds out Yuna is under the deity's transmigration spell, he will use the second option to get rid of her and taint the flower with his sins to take us to the underworld. We're connected to the moon tree and he will most likely use this chance to corrupt us."

Bingo.

"Damn," Jungkook clenched his hair and looked away, speechless. Who would've thought that a small creature like him had already planned everything? The illusion guardian might be pliable to the higher-ups but he sure is meticulous with the hints.

"Is that why you mentioned that option?" Yoongi chuckled, "Maybe at least that could give you a hint to foreshadow Yeomra's plans."

"Man," he laughed. "And here I thought the oracle is the smartest one."

They both laughed.

"I guess we're on good terms now?" the cat joked.

"Nah, hyung. Don't kid yourself." he side-eyed and then laughed with him again.

"We should probably go back to the Magic Shop." Jungkook smiled.

"Yes, we should."

Yoongi crawled by the window and jumped up to touch the dangling wind chime. The deities who were once told to leave the house appeared in the room and yawned as if they were woken up by the feline. Yoongi told them their whereabouts before leaving the hanok village with the grim reaper behind him.

Flashback...

Another cough was heard in the room as soon as the old woman leaned back on his chair to text her unresponsive daughter. The florists already left an hour ago after they decided to close the shop early. Yoomi couldn't feel at ease when her daughter missed her calls.

She might be strolling at the park at this hour but if it wasn't for her being unresponsive to her mother's messages, Yoomi wouldn't feel this way. She asked her colleagues, Jiwoo and Youngjae, in case she was with them. Jiwoo responded but Youngjae didn't. The night gets darker with every tick and tock of the clock yet Yuna's arrival is prolonged. Jiwoo was the only person she can contact at this hour since both of them were a little worried.

"Yuna is an adult. She can take care on her own." she reminded herself.

Then she remembered the deity's prophecy. She must be delusional right now because her lifespan is short. Or she might have slept while knitting and had a nightmare. This could be a dream and not a reality.

Why would she worry?

She closed her eyes and whispered to herself to wake up. A cold breeze passed by and a gush of wind blew a few strands off her face. She heard the chimes by the doorway and thought of opening her eyes to see if her dream is finally coming to an end. However, by the time she opened her eyes, Yoomi saw a man standing before her, eyes growing dark and a smile growing sinister.

He gazed up to lift her from her chair and suffocate her. Yoomi held her neck and gasped for air. She pleaded with the monster in her muffled breaths when suddenly, the door opened and the sound of the chimes resounded in the room. Yeomra locked eyes with the human but immediately withdrew. He gazed back at the florist's mother and grumbled incoherent words.

"Leave her alone!" Yeomra did not spare her another glance so he roughly tilted his head to free the human and possibly wound her. Jiwoo hurried to catch her when Yoomi fell and tumbled on her. Yeomra opened his palm and summoned his magic. He threw a dark miasma toward the two females on the ground to injure them. Jiwoo's glowing wrist created a force field to protect herself and her friend's mother. She looked down at her flower tattoo and gaped at the sight of a protective bubble surrounding her.

Yeomra widened his eyes and grumbled. Instead of wasting his time, a cloud of black smoke appeared and he dispersed along with it.

The shield vanished as well, leaving Jiwoo confused. Reality kicked in when she heard Yoomi's ragged breaths. She rummaged through her pockets for her phone and then quickly called the emergency hotline.

A few minutes passed and the ambulance came. The nurses helped her bring Yoomi to the hospital where she waited for Yuna.

From afar away, the mad hatter and the flower goblin watched the scene playing before them. They exchanged glances quizzically and pursed their lips while scanning the commotion outside.

"Did you see that?" Jimin asked.

"I see the ambulance." the flower guardian shook his head, "No. Not that. The shadow."

Taehyung looked at him.

"Oh, right. I was here before you but a shadow entered that flower shop."

"I don't know but I do feel like there's a negative energy," Taehyung added. His eyes widened upon seeing the other guardian's face light up in realization as well.

"That could be..."

"Yeomra." they both said in unison.

"We gotta tell Namjoon, hurry!" Jimin exclaimed. He scuffed towards the telephone by the counter and dialed the numbers of the oracle without a single ponder.

"What are you wearing?" Jimin asked the mad hatter after looking up from fixing the brooch on the collar of his coat. He wore black slacks topped with a brown turtleneck sweater and a black trench coat. The two dressed up like humans to blend in the crowd before the interrogation. However, it seems like someone is about to go on a date rather than the latter.

"You're wearing a suit to the hospital?" the goblin scrunched his face in an insulting expression.

"Humans wear these you know. They are called 'fashion' for a reason."

Jimin facepalmed. "No, Taeh. You do fashion based on the look and feel of the venue you're going to. We're going to the hospital to interrogate the witness not serve them food."

Taehyung gasped dramatically like he was personally attacked by the goblin's insult. He opened his mouth widely and placed his hand on his chest as if he was badly hurt by his words.

"No, you did not."

"Yes, I called you a waiter."

"You don't understand."

"I understand that you're overdressed. We have to keep a low profile to not intimidate the humans."

Taehyung laughed. "Nah, you clearly don't understand. I have to impress them so we can easily find the patient and the witness while you talk to them."

"And why is that? Is it even necessary that we impress them? You know I can't do the majority of the talking. I might not be able to stay in my human form once this brooch pin drains."

The mad hatter licked his dried lips and nodded. "Oh right, you're a goblin."

Jimin rolled his eyes. "Last time we overdressed for your fashion craze, a shaman approached us and found out we were guardians so we can 'bless' her shrine."

Taehyung clicked his tongue boredly. "Yeah."

"She thought she could drive more customers by using us."

Taehyung walked towards his table in the tea room while Jimin tailed him. He searched for his jar of leaves to tuck a few in his pocket just in case his human form falters as well.

The guardians have magical objects called vizards that conceal their magical form when meddling and interacting with humans. In that case, since the mad hatter is a fox spirit, he writes whatever form he wants to transform to using the talisman leaves. The goblin uses a colorful flower brooch to tamper with his curse. Without the pin, once he leaves the magic shop, his features turn grotesquely. The pin shows his true physical form when he wears it but once the color drains, his curse will subdue.

"Aren't you going to change your attire?" Jimin interrupted.

Taehyung finally gave up on the goblin's nagging. With a huff, he snapped his fingers and his attire changed into something casual, cozy, and appropriate for the weather.

"There. Happy now?" Jimin nodded with a wide smile, leaving the Magic Shop with the mad hatter behind him.

ᵐ ˡᶦˢᵗ | ᵖʳᵉᵛⁱᵒᵘˢ | ⁿᵉˣᵗ

[jeonqkooks]

directly alongside your friend in the comments of your post, i would say that entire graveyard symbolism in the supernova drabble is a top contender for my favourite lines you wrote of all-time. it's like the grim reaper's older brother; the one that carries dead words six feet under because they couldn't make it across a breath in the land of the living.

also the operation table symbolism in the namjoon breakup au drabble as well. it was such harrowing imagery of a love gone cold despite the efforts of keeping everything alive. i sometimes still think of that namjoon, and how he's coping about moving on in a world where he thought this one person would be at the centre of it all... only to find out the gravity of love doesn't work like that. not even close.

ohh i didn’t think the graveyard metaphor in supernova would be a hit 😭 that bit i actually wrote way back in 2020, more than 2 whole years before i got into bts and it was originally for fanfic for another person lmfao but i never did anything with it so i just put it in supernova 😂

i also like that part of the namjoon drabble as well! i personally think that bit might be one of the best i’ve ever written :’) thank you sm for the ask !! 💞

do you have a favorite line from my fics?

[lemonjoonah]

Grim Love: Echo

Word Count: 3K+ Rating: M Genre: Reaper AU, Drama Warnings: Major Character Death(s), Violence Pairings: Reaper!Jungkook x Reader x Seokjin Inspirations:  LOVE YOURSELF Highlight Reel, SAVE ME, Guardian: The Lonely and Great God (AKA Goblin)

Summary - Every time I reach for you, every time I touch your hand, I am forced back to the beginning. Why can’t I save you from this endless cycle? Why can’t I save you from this pain?

The Grim Love series is a Reaper AU, featuring each of the members as Grim Reapers. Echo is Jungkook’s story…

A/N - This is the third instalment in the series. Even though they are individual short stories that can be read alone, I highly recommend reading all of them and in order as there is a natural progression to the information and overall plot (that’s right it’s all going to connect…). You might notice a few similarities between Taehyung’s and Jungkook’s stories but it is fully intended as part of the collective story line. Please pay attention to the warnings. These stories take a lot out of me emotionally to write, if you are easily triggered do not read it! 

...

POV Jungkook

“This is our kindness, sending you.”

“I think you could do better.” I mutter back to my elders as I step across the void to the world of the living. If they have such power why can’t they do more? With every death they assign all I see is pain. The pain of the souls that leave and those that stay and mourn. If they really want to help, they should take away the agony, take away the guilt. That would be true kindness.

...

30th, Aug

I find you waiting patiently as a train crosses in front of us. A bag rests on your shoulder that’s bursting at the seams with what appears to be clothes and books. The weight of the sack must be heavy as you fail to notice when one of your belongings slips out. A red notebook falls from its place and hits the pavement. I stop beside it for a moment wondering if you will see it, but you proceed despite leaving that part of you behind. I hate the fact that I am unable to inform of the loss, I can only staying by your side until I can guide you on.

Your commute is not much further, entering a hospital I have been sent to many times. All though this will be a first, following someone who works there rather than a patient. We are surrounded by my kind, I cannot communicate with them while in this realm, but I can still feel their slight presence in the shadows of their assigned souls.

As I wait for you to change into scrubs, I ponder as to what might be your end. You, a young doctor, you don’t appear sick in anyway and any other natural causes would be unlikely at your age. Possibly an accident? It will likely be sudden. I wish that the elders would just tell us what to expect, if they know the timeline surely they know the cause too.

Your morning rounds consist of you checking on your long term patients. You consult one of the nurses before entering the third room of the day.

“How is he responding to the new dosage?”

“Unfortunately no improvement, he’s still unresponsive and on the respirator.”

You double check the chart at the foot of his bed with a sigh, “I can’t increase the prescription, he’s already at the highest dose.”

I can tell this patient of yours has little time left. The presence of his reaper is so strong that I doubt he will even last the hour.

Thirty minutes later you are called back to that room for a code blue. Your patient is in need of resuscitation, but I already know that the attempt is futile. The soul has already left with it’s guide. It’s not coming back no matter how hard you try.

After calling time of death you retreat to your locker room in defeat, hanging your head as you stalk away. This is the guilt that I hate, when those who are left behind feel responsible despite the fact that it is not their fault. There was nothing that could have been done, it was just his time. You rummage through your bag looking for something, pulling out all of its contents to find what you need. You stare at the now empty sack with a confused look, while muttering to yourself, “I know I put it in here.”

You must be looking for the journal that you had dropped on your walk over.

“If you want to give her kindness let me tell her where it is.” I whisper to myself, I know the elders aren’t listening, but it still makes me feel better to point out the faults in the limitations they have placed on us.

I can not talk to you. I can’t touch you until you’ve reached your end. Only the things that draw you to your demise are within my grasp. How fucked up is that? They will only let us touch what hurts you the most.

You give up on your search checking the display on your phone to see a text from an unknown source.

...I found a red notebook with your name and number inside. Is it by chance yours?...

I watch as your face lights up with relief.

...Yes! Thank you so much for finding it. I’m at work right now can I meet you somewhere tonight to pick it up?...

...

At the end of your shift you head to a cafe you both agreed upon. He sends you a selfie along with his name, Kim Seokjin. Telling you to look for his handsome face. I scoff at his attempt to flirt, but you giggle and smile.

Before we even reach the cafe I can see him waiting for you across the street. Holding not only your notebook but a bouquet of flowers. I find myself confused by his forwardness as he has yet to even meet you.

You wave at him before crossing in a hurry.

It turns out I was right. Your end is sudden. I didn’t even see the truck coming before you stepped in front. The horn and the screech of brakes do nothing to prevent your death.

It’s my purpose now to take your hand and guide you on. I have done it so many times before, trying to explain to a fearful soul who I am and what has taken place, but you, you are different. Sadness and longing consumes your expression as your eyes fall on mine. “Jungkook?”

It’s at that moment that I feel myself being torn away, as if I have been summoned back to my elders only the pull is far stronger. But I have yet to take your hand... the hand of someone who is wide eyed and calling out to me in pain.

...

30th, Aug (2nd Attempt)

I find myself back at the train tracks with you... but how? It’s as if the day hasn’t even happened, even though I can still hear the echo of your voice calling my name. I stare at your face trying to remember, trying to recall the past that you must share with me, but all I can see is your last day. The day in which we are now reliving.

The elders say they take away our memories when we start our roles. They say that it will make our job easier but I don’t believe them, not when there are others who still remember us, not when I can’t understand how you know my name.   

The red notebook of yours falls once again, and again you fail to notice. Your day proceeds just the same as before. Visiting your patients, while losing one in the process. It’s when you check your phone after your futile search that I notice the first difference, the location he has sent you to meet at, it’s not the same as the time before. This one is on the other side of town, despite the long trek you agree, clearly desperate to retrieve your belonging.

But as you step on the bus to go to the meeting spot, it becomes apparent that you will never make it off. Just like at the hospital, the surrounding souls are shadowed by my kind. When the bus collides with a barrier I reach out to you. I am able to take your hand this time but as you speak my name once again I am ripped away.

...

30th, Aug (3rd Attempt)

“What the fuck is happening?” I question staring at the train that crosses in front of us. Something is clearly wrong. “Care to enlighten me, oh kind elders?” I shout to the sky. “This is our kindness, sending you.” I repeat in a mocking tone. “An explanation would be great.” I make an attempt to return to the void to question them but find my path blocked, your hold on me is too tight, tying me to this world so that I can not leave. You are so close to death that to travel back without your soul is impossible.

This time Kim Seokjin doesn’t message you. You remain in the dark regarding the location of your missing notebook.

One of your coworkers enters the locker room staring at your belongings you have strewn about the floor in your search.

You look up at them sheepishly, “You haven’t by chance see that red journal of mine have you?”

“Are you still using that? Honey that’s not how you should coupe. Writing them down won’t bring them back.”

“I know that! It just helps... it helps me to let them go.”

Is that what you use it for? To record the names of those who you lost under your care? I call out with the intent to shame once again. “Do you see? DO YOU SEE NOW?! She shouldn’t feel bad for this. She shouldn’t carry the weight of your fucking choices.”

On your walk back from work you comb the streets looking for your lost possession.  You’re so absorbed in your search that you fail to notice a presence following you. A man that has been eyeing the bag on your shoulder with envy.

He grabs for the strap and makes an attempt to cut it with a knife to free it from your shoulder. You twist around in confusion, causing the blade to instead finds its place in you. The assailant runs off dropping the knife as he goes. You fall to the ground hand pressing on the wound in your abdomen.

Your face slowly turns white as you struggle to breath. I can’t stand to see you in this much pain, when all I can do is wait. Wait until you can take my hand, wait until I can finally take you away with me.

No one comes for you, no one finds you before you speak the name that pulls me back.

“Jungkook?” .

.

.

30th, Aug (10th Attempt)

“NO! I refuse to keep doing this. This is not kindness this is torment! She doesn’t deserve this. How many more times does she have to die before you’re content?” The train finally crosses and you proceed. “So help me god, if that journal drops one more...” I listen to the dull thunk of the pages on the pavement, seething as I glance down to it.

“How do you not notice that?” I start yelling at you, scolding upon deaf ears in anger, uncertain of what else to do. “Turn around and go pick it up!”

But of course you don’t, it would be a miracle if you could hear me, if you would just listen to me I could save you from so much pain.

...

When your patient dies in front of you once again I only become exasperated as you try to save him, “Stop worrying about him and try looking after yourself.”

The text from Seokjin this time is him offering to bring the journal to you. Informing you that he will wait downstairs in the lobby. If you can posses that journal maybe this cycle can end, is that what this is all about? The only constant each time is your determination to get that damn thing back.  

You never reach him, you never get the chance to retrieve your belonging. You slip on the fourth floor staircase and fall, hitting your head as you go down. I make it far enough to hold you in my arms this time. I need to know, I must know how you remember me. Your touch seem so familiar. Hearing your voice speak my name echoes throughout the gaps inside me, as if it should hit a memory and unlock a part of me that remains hidden. But it only sends me back, back to those fucking train tracks.

.

.

.

30th, Aug (30th Attempt)

I am tired of watching you die, of seeing you in pain. The only thing that brings me refuge now is hearing you whisper my name.

This time you ended up staying at a hotel after a night of drinking with your friends, too intoxicated to make it back home. When smoke begins to pour in through the vents of your room you are too far gone to notice. You lay deep within your slumber as the room fills with toxic fumes and the flames creep under your door.

“Please wake up, please don’t let this happen again.” I begin to sob wishing I had the power to pull you from this bed.

You begin to mutter and toss in your sleep, “Jungkook... I’m sorry I lost it. Please don’t leave... don’t leave me...”

You are simply dreaming, but that doesn’t stop me from trying to reach you. “Wake up, you have to get up. I won’t leave you but... I can’t save you. I don’t know how.”

The next time you say my name you’ve already passed, and I am pushed  away once again.

.

.

.

30th, Aug (50th Attempt)

So much pain...

.

.

.

30th, Aug (75th Attempt)

Why can’t I take you with me...

.

.

.

30th, Aug (100th Attempt)

Why can’t I save you from this...

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

30th, Aug (411th Attempt)

No matter how many times you die I am always the first thing you see. My name always comes from you lips before anything else.

As the journal falls I stay by it’s side. I will come back to you in time, I promise, but I have to find out how to end this. How I can free you from this echo of an end, my only lead is to follow what you’ve been searching for. With the hopes that it will bring you to your final peace.

...

Just as in days past Kim Seokjin finds the journal, but he doesn’t immediately open it as I thought he would. Instead I must follow him back to his apartment as he carries your possession in his hand.

He opens the curtains of his window to shed light on a wall filled with fresh sharpie marks. To anyone else they would just seem like the writings of a mad man, random words crammed onto the dull paint of the room, but to me the tell a dark story in two words or less. Truck, bus, thief, hospital staircase, hotel fire and so many more...

I stare at the display in shock and horror, every circle in the web he has drawn is a death you’ve endured. As read each one I can feel myself reliving the experience in my head. How? How does he know all of this? How does he know what I have witnessed, what you have suffered?

Each of your deaths seems to branch off from a choice that he has made, when he has texted you, when he hasn’t, where he has agreed to meet you, where he has encouraged your friends to take you.

Seokjin sits on his bed staring at the wall as he opens the journal of yours to the beginning. And there on the very first line I see my name written by your hand. Echoing back to my end.

...

The walls which surround me are bleak and sterile, the steady beeping of the monitor mocks me as if it’s counting down the limited time I have left. The only good moments within this hospital room are the frequent visits from you. You check in with me often despite not being my doctor, our prior friendship preventing you from taking the role as my primary physician.

“How are you feeling today Jungkook?”

“I’m fine.”

“Any pain?”

“You already have enough patients to stress over, please don’t worry about me too.”

“You know I will always worry about you, even if I’m not your doctor, even if you say not to. But something's wrong, what is it? Tell me.”

“Could you do me a favour first?”

...

I wait patiently for your return, knowing that I’ll have to explain myself once you do. It almost saddens me to see you back so quickly with a bag in hand. It would have been nice if you could have remained in blissful ignorance for a little longer.

“Like this?”

You hand me a red notebook that I asked you to purchase.

“Yes, perfect.”

I take it before giving it right back to you with a sly grin. “For you.”

“What for?” You chuckle.

“For your relief. I want you to write everything that causes you pain everything that weighs down on you in here, you need to let it all go. Starting with my name...”

“Jungkook?”

Tears begin to flood your eyes as I take your hand and try to explain. “My test results came back today. The new medication, it’s not working like they hoped.”

I told my doctor not to say anything to you, that I wanted to be the one to tell you. I knew you would blame yourself if they did and I couldn’t bear the thought of it. We have been friends for so long... You always tell me of the things that worry you, of the guilt that wracks you. I won’t be there to help you through those times, to give you the release that you need from the pressures weighing on you. If I can’t be here for you, I want to at least give you something, something that might help save you from the pain...

...

This journal was my last gift, and here he holds it like it’s his key to you.

In anger I try to take it from his grasp, I am unable to touch the book but I manage to make contact with his hand, forcing the notebook to fall to the floor.

He looks down in confusion trying to explain the phenomenon that is me.

I can only touch the things that are hurting you, the things that lead you to your end... This man, Kim Seokjin is he the reason you are going through such agony? I look to the wall once again. Is he the reason you are forced to die over and over? With every death a result of his actions...

He bends over to pick up the red journal and faintly whispers, “I have to go back to the beginning, that’s the closest I’ve come so far.”

With that choice he sends you the same text that I remember from the first day following you. Asking you to meet him outside a cafe.

...

As you are about to run across the street he tells you to wait, crossing himself instead. I have to choose, will I let you die again or prevent him from reaching you?

Seokjin is fully aware of the truck that is heading down the street, waiting to the side until it will pass him by. But even if it does, I know that this loop will not stop, not until I can destroy the cause of your death. I can’t do this anymore I can’t watch you die again.

He has forced you relive so much pain, so much guilt.  He is within my grasp, he is within my realm, he is within my right to end.

My contact with him is short but serves its purpose. The tires squeal and the horn blares, but not for you. He can’t hurt you now, not when I will lead him away.

This is my kindness, taking him... to save you.

...

A/N: I’m so sorry for that end, but I promise it’s not the end of Seokjin’s story. Lots of easter eggs in here, but if you are curious as to why I set the date at Aug. 30th, I suggest rewatching the Highlight Reel.

[blueberrykenn]

What Happens After Dark Teaser:

When enemies, Min Yoongi and Kim Taehyung run into a stranger who not ready to die yet and ask Yoongi to go to some college party Taehyung doesn't like that

Grim Reaper BTS AU

Pairing: a mix of all ot7 ships

Warnings: Dead dove, death, blood, Maknae line being the crackheads they are

"Why the loud snake; I would rather the giant nerd kid than him"

I hear Namjoon gasp as Taehyung himself popped his head from the floor and say "Hey! Im delightful!"

" You literally made everyone think that you were a historical figure the last time you were in the mortal world Taehyung!" Seokjin had said while laughing while he rolled his eyes at Seokjin "I am a historian figure Im Kim Taehyung" as im walking to the mortal portal I grumble

"Lets go already and get this over with before I have an aneurysm and die"

I see Jungkook nodding and then his eyes widening "HYUNG YOURE DEAD!"

Coming Soon!

1.9.24

[magicalsalamander]

Threads of a Resurgent

⍖ Pairing▹ BTS Namjoon ⇆ Reader

⍖ Genre▹ Grim Reaper| Witch | Horror | Fluff| Angst|

⍖ Warning▹ rated Mature; Graphic depictions of death and gore, main character death, necromancy, traumatic events, blood, animal sacrifice (not detailed), witchcraft inaccuracies, explicit language and horror themes.

⍖ Summary▹ That dress. It was all because of that tainted dress. The dress you found at a second-hand store wasn’t just a pretty thing on the rack. When the grim reaper sits across from you telling you he’s come to collect, your life takes a turn. However, he made a mistake..a grave mistake. The threads of the Resurgent begin to unravel as you and the Grim Reaper are unleashed on an adventure tangled by threads. How will you mend the threads and save your soul in time before he collects you?

⍖ Word▹31.6K

⍖ A/N▹ Hope you’re still in the mood for something spooky. I apologize for the grammar errors in advance, I will correct them asap. I made a dictionary for you to keep open while you read so you can refer to things. I hope you enjoy, thanks for reading! Gif source unknown, but I don’t take credit for it [if you know please let me know].

⇴ Masterlist | Book of Spells [Dictionary] | Moodboard 

The hangers clacked as you shoved articles of clothing past like an abacus. The clothes were so tightly packed on the rack that hangers were sticking out in all directions. Your face was in a permanent scowl as you picked through the thorn bush. Shopping hasn’t ever been a pastime that you would put high on your list of fun activities. It had its scarce perks and all, but the process was always a long journey: picking clothes, trying on clothes in a scrutinizing mirror, then returning 99% of the items to an underpaid fitting room attendant. Rinse and repeat. However, here you were, on Friday evening, rummaging through a second-hand thrift store’s dress section to find something to wear for a date in about an hour.

You kept pushing past ugly polka dotted dresses, grandmother moo moos, overtly ruffle dresses then you stopped counting. You pushed another bead on the abacus when you stopped counting when something seemed to glow, call to you. You found the one. It must’ve been a rich-woman’s dress at some point. It was a simple black dress, but there was beauty in its minimalism. You assumed it made it here because of that stupid rule: wear it once then never again.

Who came up with that rule anyways?

You happily unhooked it from the rack, but it snagged when it was halfway out. It got caught in the thorns of about three other hanging pieces. You grunted and tried jangling the pieces loose, but the hangers were as messy as headphones in a pocket. After a few minutes of trying to figure it out you were nearly placing your foot on the rack to yank it out. This is ridiculous, but you weren’t going to settle on a polka dotted dress. One tug, two, then on your last heave you heard ripping and gasp from your lips with the liberated dress finally in your hands. You stumbled backwards and held the dress up in victory, but your smile turned into a heavy frown. The dress had a slit up the side from where a metal hook from another hanger ripped the delicate fabric. You just found something, and you ruined it in a matter of seconds.

After looking at it for a bit longer, you quite liked the new look. A risqué notch up the thigh gave the dress bonus points, perfect for date night. You checked the price tag with a satisfied smile, twenty bucks was doable on your budget. No further torture was needed, end of discussion, you found the dress!

You ran up to the counter, bought the dress, then ran back to the changing room. You changed out of your professional wear that you wore to the office earlier into the dress. Luckily you were already wearing accessories and shoes that transitioned easily. You checked yourself and swiped on a fresh coat of lipstick smacking your lips. You checked your watch, you had fifteen minutes to make it across town. You ran out the store and hailed a taxi. You took a deep breath as you sunk into the leather seat and crossed your fingers in your lap. You stared out the window watching the cityscape change, you hoped this went well.

You watched the flickering orange candle light in the reflection of the large window from your booth. Pattering rain hit the glass distorting the small light, but your reflection stared right back at you clearly. For the past hour some people ran past while others were covering themselves with umbrella to fend off the sudden rain. Luckily the rain started when you were inside the café. Couples giggled as they clutched onto eachother and some kids splashed in puddles only to be scolded by their parents seconds later.

The cooper bulb lights couldn’t completely wash out the overcast sky and heavy rain, nor the apparent absence besides you. Your hands felt cold despite trying to warm them up around the tea you ordered just to warm you up. Nothing changed that awkward feeling sitting in your stomach. You had been stood up.

You heavily sighed and looked to the empty seat across from you. It’s been over an hour and a half since you were supposed to meet. You looked around the nook café, although it was slotted between two popular brick and mortars, it was empty. You were the only patron in the establishment. The once burning espresso machines had cooled and the strong aroma of espresso had dulled to a dainty waft. The exhausted barista yawned, possibly bored out of their mind. They tossed their hand towel over their shoulder and disappeared into the back.

You ran a hand through your hair with a heavy sigh. It wasn’t about being stood up that upset you, it was the principal of the matter! You spent money—hard earned money—on a new dress, a taxi, a cup of tea and it wasn’t even worth it. You couldn’t even return the dress!

You reached down and traced a finger along the ripped seam up your thigh. Risqué notch my ass…it was just torn and got you an extra five dollars off this piece of junk. What if the rip was foretelling you that this wasn’t a good idea; perhaps an ominous foreshadowing you overlooked?

The depression of air wheezed out of the cushion as someone slide into the booth across from you. You looked up and met the dark eyes of a stranger. The tall stranger leaned back, resting one arm across the back of the chair. He was dressed in a sharp black suit that covered his lean body. His dirty-blonde hair was pushed back out of his face, but a few tendrils straggled on his forehead. The sinister look on his face, sharp scrutinizing eyes, and cocky demeanor washed over you like a cold shower. You didn’t dare to shiver, but your dilated pupils trembled.

“I’ve come to collect.”

You swallowed saliva you didn’t realize you’d been holding. You looked around the cafe and found the place completely empty. It was just you…and this stranger. Collect? Maybe this dude was mistaken or intoxicated. “What?” Stupefied you answered.

He scoffed running his thumb over his plump bottom lip, then clasped his hands, hunching over the table. He was only a single man, but his presence filled up the whole booth. He lifted his head, messy bangs fully covering his forehead. He looked through his lashes at you, eyes darkening by the second. For a second you were sure smoke filtered between his pearly white teeth as he smirked, “Oh, don’t play dumb now.”

You looked out the window and the foot traffic had stopped completely, but the rain still was heavily trickling, heavier than before. Uneasiness settled in your stomach, something was not right about this guy. “I’m sorry you must’ve gotten the wrong person,” you were running out a patience. You scooted out of the booth, done dealing with this creep. You didn’t have a coat or umbrella, so you were going to have to make a run for it.

He remained in his seat hands still folded on the table. He kept unwavering eye contact with you from his spot, “You can’t keep running from what you’ve done. I have to collect.”

You busted at the seams, “I don’t have any debt! I just paid off my credit cards and stud—.” It hit you, “Sir, are you—are you…,” you leaned in a bit hushing your raised tone, “a part of the mafia or something?”

He chuckled throwing his head back in fake laughter, “Does changing now make you lose your memory?”

You had enough from this crazy, admittedly handsome—but insane guy! You snatched your purse turning around to leave. What a terrible night this has been. You’re going to throw this dress away, fifteen dollars or not, then yourself onto your bed when you get home.

You took about two steps and apparated before you in a blink of an eye. You gasped nearly running face first into him, “Whoa—What? How did—?”

His pupils engulfed his eyes in a deep black engulfing the sclera of his eyes. You could feel his hot breath on your cheeks as he growled out, “Pay-the-price!” He grabbed onto your elbow and dragged you towards the entrance of the café.

“Let go of me! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” His grip was nearly bone crushing. Through the pain you screamed, “LET GO!” You were pulled along regardless of your protest. You looked for staff, anyone, to help but no one was there to save you. Your heart was racing out of your chest, “Let me GO!”

He ripped open the entrance door, a cold front rushed over you both, but his large figure took the blunt of it. He pulled you along through the threshold, “Stop!” You expected to be pelted by rain, but instead the world warped around you, neon commercial lights whirlpool and turned into darkness that took a new life as a hazy blue-grey dense fog. He kept pulling you along with him unaffected by the transition. Nausea churned your stomach in an unfriendly manner. Your brain felt like static causing you to stumble over your own feet when your feet settled on uneven, gravelly terrain. His insistent pulling progressed you both onwards.

Where were you?

You couldn’t see anything clearly besides him in this nightmare-scape; until, in the dense fog, you began to pass trees that were characterized by their dark trunks and chaotic roots that were like spider legs sticking out the ground. This place left so much up to the imagination. Every muscle in your body was aching to run away, to fight, bite his hand even, but that fog—it felt alive. Whatever was out there in it could make the bravest being claustrophobic.

This must be the gateway to hell.

Coming from your right then left you heard the crunching of dead leaves. From the dark haze, the imagination begins to fill with horrors. Silhouetted human figures passed in different direction between the tress, but they didn’t turn towards us they kept their wandering demeaner. The fog was alive!

“Wh-Where are you taking me?” You whisper yelled it to him, afraid to attract the attention of those wandering figures in this passing hell. The ma—demon holding you hostage kept his pace graciously gliding in the fog. The silence between you was scarier.

A dark hill appeared and in short realization you realized it was a cave. He kept dragging you towards it with a sinister smile blooming on his face. Breaking through the susurration, the sound of heavy limbs being dragged was eerily followed by the crunching of bones and the mushing sound of moist flesh. The morbid sounds echoed through the forest as if it was hollow as it emanated through the cave.

Your jaw dropped in a silent scream, the nausea turned into cramps, replacing itself with a guttural twisting horror. Your heart was beating so fast that everything seemed to move in slow motion. The closer we got it reeked of death and sorrow—sulfur, methane, and burned fat. You tried sticking your heels into the ground, but he dragged you along easily. “Please, I don’t know anything, just let me go!”

The mouth of the cave greeted us with an infinite darkness and your shadows dissolved into it. Your captor chanted rapidly like a hissing snake in a voice so low and deep. A raging blue fire came to light as we suddenly stopped. You jelly legs nearly tripped over something as you came to a halt, you looked down realizing it was shards of bones. You let out a scream and pulled back, screamed louder when the formidable cave dweller came to life.

The beast feeling the heat roared in distress and moved away from the fire towards you. The colossal chains attached at its ankles rattled as it slugged forward with growls of its own. The two-ton behemoth legs and arms were thin compared to his protruding gut resembling someone with Cushing disease; except that gut was filled with digesting bodies while the souls were sent to pits. His protruding, bare torso was covered in old and fresh guts and other bodily fluids. It’s disgusting greyish, purple body was that of a human, but the head was that of a boar with horns sticking out its oversized jaw. It had a partially devoured femur in its thick hand that swung listlessly as he moved.

The beast eyes were pupilless, cloudy grey, and it searched out its victims with its other heightened senses. Your involuntary noises lead the beast to whip its head right towards you. All the suppression up until this point was peaking up your throat, you were going to throw up from fear.

Your captor spoke to the beast, “Edax Animae! I return the obliquatur pythonissam who cheated Statera and you!”

You were violently trembling, what had you done wrong? You’ve never crossed anyone, nor had you done something so terrible to deserve this! Did you do something absolutely stupid in college that’s haunting you now? Maybe when you stole Stacey’s crayons in second grade, but you swear you put it back right after using it. You swear you’ve lived fairly straight edge your whole life.

You were tugging and scratching and digging your nails into his hand with your other, “Let me go! I didn’t do anything. I swear!” Your nails were causing his hands to redden with thick scratch marks, yet he didn’t make a face or loosen his grip on you. “PLEASE!”

The beast roared and stepped towards you again, but his chains yanked him back. Fear engulfed your conscience, you screamed in your throat, pulling back, yanking hard but you could only get back as far as your arm’s length. The beast dropped the femur with a gross smack of flesh. You could feel tears dripping down your face without your conscious choice. You were going to die. You were going to get eaten alive.

“Please, please, please!” Your captor pushed you forward mercilessly, you landed at the feet of the monster. You couldn’t look up, tears streamed down your face in a steady stream. The beast wobbled forward like a toddler, blubbering blood out of its mouth. It dripped down the side of its lips and onto its torso. You cowered backwards, legs dragging on the rocky dirt, his looming colossal shadow began to engulf you. It heavily panted with each step. Hovering over you, the beast suddenly stopped and huffed a deep growl.

Your captor shouted at the monster, “WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?” The monster huffed again turning its stout away from you, “What-do-you-mean!”

He violently stomped over to you, bones cracking under his dress shoes, eyes completely black. He grabbed onto the hemline of your dress.

You try shoving his hands away, “What are you doing!”

“Stay still,” it was a command. He ripped a piece of your dress off where the thigh had already been cut, leaving you with an inverse scallop cut. You yelped and tried pulling the torn edge down, “Don’t move.” Your hands stilled.

He presented it to the beast and it craned its stout a few times seeking out his hand then heavily sniffed it. The beast roared again then panted like a dog, giddy about the fabric. Your captor tossed the fabric at the bottom of the monster’s feet. The monster bent down onto its knees searching for it with its snout and shoveled it in its snout and swallowed it. The beast grunted after making an audible gulp swallowing the fabric. They exchanged growls and grunts, your captor some Latin that you couldn’t understand. “You gotta be fucking with me! Just when…this-this isn’t?” He pulled at his hair in frustration, his anger shook the walls of the cave, loose rocks tumbled from their spot.

You backed away avoiding falling rocks from the ceiling. You backed up without looking and hit the cave wall with a thud. At the noise the beast made direct eye contact with you, its cloudy grey eyes focused in your direction. You froze and held your breath, it’s gaze held a hypnotic grip on your throat. Drool dripped from the side of its jaw and boiled as it hit the rustic mud digesting shards of bone on the spot.

You captor held his hand out, hissing, “Flax!” In his hand from a cloud of black smoke appeared a scythe. Your captor strode his way over to you, easily flipped the scythe around and held the long blade to your throat. You winced closing your eyes and when you opened them you could see your reflection in the blade as you took a quick glance down at it.

“Aren’t you a witch! She put you up to this didn’t she! Where is she?”

You shivered, “Witch? No! Look I don’t know what you’re pulling here—!”

The monster grunted again, and your captor closed his eyes in frustration. “That Witch!” Your captor exploded, black smoke rolled out of his mouth. He pulled his scythe away from your neck.

You shuttered and eyes bulge at the supernatural occurrence. Who...who was this guy! What was all this! You thought that this stuff was only fictional, yet a beast and whatever this guy was in front of you really existed!

The monster begins heaving like a dog and it throws up the piece of fabric it just digested, along with some other things you couldn’t make out.

You beg, “Just take me back, I’ll forget all this, I won’t say anything, just take me back home.”

He growled toxic smoke pouring from his mouth, “I can’t take you back!”

You yelled back, fear making you lose your temper, “Why? Why can’t you? Just take me back! I said I’ll forget—.” You flinched as the monster began moving towards the back of the cave again.

“You can’t forget this!” He yelled, veins in his neck popping. He recentering himself quickly, pointed to your body with his scythe, “You wore that dress…you’re tainted.”

Dress? What does this dress have to do with any of this? Tainted? “I don’t care about the dress. Just take me back!”

He sighed clanking the stem of his scythe once on the floor and it disappeared into thin air. He walked out of the cave and ignorantly you followed him like lightening was at your feet into the dense fog again. You kept close to him. You could run, but where would you go? Become one of the wondering souls? You had to persuade him to take you back home. More importantly, you needed answers.

He spoke as he walked, “That dress belonged to a resurgent. It was worn by that-that witch when they died then resurrected. A piece of their soul is attached to that dress.”

You almost felt relieved for a moment, your hands were wiped clean, this was all a mistake and you could go home. You just needed to get rid of the dress, done deal.

He spat the last words. “The fact that you wore it…that piece of her—necromancy it’s sticky—it’s tainted you. That’s why you were mistaken for her.”

He slowed his pace, “Your soul is hers and until her debt is paid, you’re tainted.”

The color dropped out of your face.

He stopped in a clearing and turned around facing you with a sad expression. “And if her soul isn’t collected in time…,” he looked you directly in the eye, “yours will be.”

Your knees gave way and you collapsed like a ragdoll. Fresh tears streamed down your cheeks. He kneeled and lifted your chin and wiped away your tears. You flinched when he touched you expecting to be hit or worse. He pulled his hands back, frown deepening, “I won’t hurt you. I know it’s hard to believe, but I won’t hurt you.” His black eyes receded into something more humanistic again. His demeanor took a one hundred and eighty, but his face was still stern. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I really am.” This was low, he’s never known it was possible to split the soul. But here you were, proving everything he thought wrong.

The tears continued to stream down your face, he tried wiping each of them away. He genuinely felt terrible, he had brought an innocent mortal into Limbo and showed them something you should have never seen. Never. However, you weren’t just an innocent mortal anymore, “But…until I can find her and bring her soul to Satera…we have to remain together.”

You screeched out, “Together!”

“I will find the resurgent.” He stood up taking your hand and gently helping you up, going as far as to dusting you off. He shrugged off his blazer and wrapped it around your shoulders. “But in the meantime, you and I are connected as well.”

You tried shrugging his coat off before it touched your shoulders, “Will this taint my soul too?” You were suspicious of everything.

He laughed, the straight-faced man laughed, dimples even appeared on his cheeks. He was quite good looking when he wasn’t threatening your life. He shrugged and placed it around your shoulders again, “Just be grateful Keres didn’t come to find you.”

You asked, “Who?”

His face went dumbstruck, “Oh.” He cleared his throat, “My sister…she would not be as kind if she were assigned you.”

“Assigned?”

He chuckled, “You have so many questions.”

You sputtered out in disbelief, “Who are you?”

“The mortals call me Thanatos, at least they used to about two thousand years ago, or the Grim Reaper more recently.”

Your jaw dropped, and spat out, “Death, YOUR death!”

He laughed again, “The one and the only.”

He held out his hand, “I can satisfy one of your requests, I’ll take you home.” You were too stunned to say anything and before you knew it you were traveling again.

You stumbled as you emerged, but he caught your arm, gently this time. He straightening you out, “You alright?”

You panted, “How-how do you do that?”

He smirked, “Comes with the job.”

He took you to your front door, for a short moment you wondered how he knew where you lived but you felt he had his ways there too. He stopped you from going inside, “I’m going to find out more…information. If you need me, call me.”

You looked at him inquisitively, “How am I supposed to call you?”

“Just say my name.”

“Reaper?”

He shook his head and scuffed his shoe, surprisingly shy, “Namjoon, my real name is Namjoon.”

You tested the name on your tongue, “Namjoon.”

He nodded, “Keep the blazer, and call me when you need me.”

You took the hint, “My name’s Y/n.”

He turned around once more, “Oh, Y/n, don’t tell anyone about this.” You wanted to scoff, but you swallowed it, nodded in understanding instead. Who would believe you if you told them anyways?

“Good night, Y/n,” he vanished in the next second in a cloud of black smoke.

What had you gotten yourself into?

Magic, the supernatural, beast, monster, and God knows whatever else you hadn’t seen with your eyes yet exist. Magic exists.

Before you knew it, it was Friday again. The whole week after you felt like a zombie, like your own body didn’t belong to you. You were still questioning if it all was just a bad dream, a twisted nightmare. The bruises from his hard grip were there…his blazer was still with me and that dress…I still had that dress. You had hooked up the dress on a hanger and left it on a hook behind your door. You didn’t know what to do with it. You didn’t know if you threw it away or that would only make things worse. The best solution you could come up with was “out of sight, out of mind”.

You came home around nine, Fridays were always hell at the office. Your coworkers were making you pay since you took last Friday off early, it was your turn to shoulder a majority of the work. Your manager would pile on work that he’d been slacking on during the week onto the team. Instead of getting off at five like everyone else, you’d usually get off the earliest at eight at minimum.

You treated yourself with a long shower to wash away the stress. You dried yourself off and replaced the towel back on the rack and slipped on fresh underwear you had set out for yourself. You lived alone, so you often went around your apartment practically nude. You stepped up to the white counter humming a tune; showers always eased your mind. The medicine cabinet open with a magnetic click, mechanically following your night routine taking out your toner, moisturizer, and toothpaste from the neat shelf.

When you closed the cabinet, getting a good look of yourself in the mirror, you noticed thick, black flakes of mascara was still caked under your eye. You heavily sighed and dug into a drawer and pulled out a pack of cotton pads, tossing them on the counter with a crunch of the plastic. You reached over scavenging between your scented lotions and perfumes for your makeup remover. You really needed to get rid of some of those lotions and perfumes. You popped open the bottle and generously dowsed a cotton pad. You looked back up and begin wiping away at the black clots under your eye. In a way this was therapeutic as well, removing physical sludge was oddly satisfying.

You tossed the dirty cotton pad in the trash and turned back to the mirror checking your work. In the corner of your eyes you caught something moving behind you. You whipped around, but nothing was there. You stared for a few more moments waiting for the trickery to happen again, but nothing, there was nothing there. Despite just taking a steaming hot shower, an icy draft came over the room. Goosebumps welted all over your body. You rubbed over your arms and shrugged it off. A draft from under the door must’ve swept in and you must’ve had a flake of mascara in your eye. You turned back to the mirror, but the hair on the back of your neck was still at attention. “It’s nothing, it’s nothing, it’s nothing. You’re spooking yourself you idiot.”

You kept looked over your shoulder a few times despite your assuring monologue as you finished up your routine. You massaged in the excess moisturizer into your neck and the wiped rest on your towel. You opened the medicine cabinet and put the products back faster than you normally would. That eerie feeling you couldn’t seem to escape was traveling down your spine, but you choose to ignore it.

It was just your imagination.

You picked up your toothbrush and applied a dollop of paste then ran it under water. You popped it in your mouth then closed the cabinet. You scrubbed your teeth and pulled your eyes back up to meet your reflection. The lights flickered encroaching you in darkness for a split second. When the lights turned back on, your reflection was accompanied.

A wasting figure began to rise in the intervals as the lights flickered. You screamed at the top of your lungs, the toothbrush dropped from your mouth clanking in the ceramic sink. You watched as the being built itself from cavities to limbs that looked Frankenstein when it was fully equipped. Your clean scent was being stained by the heavy earthen smell of soil accompanied by a smell of death. The room filled with complete darkness for a heartbeat, then a feminine figure replaced the Frankenstein when the light came on. The dark figure behind you shushed you and snaked a hand around your neck holding you in place; although, you were frozen on the spot from fear and couldn’t move regardless. As she leaned in to you her cold chest pressed into your back, she hooked her pointy chin on your shoulder you got a good look at the figure’s face. She was a gorgeous woman with sharp features, deep eyes and long, silky black hair.

She brushed your wet hair behind your ear and whispered into your ear, “So we meet.” She chuckled in satisfaction knowing she had terrified you, “We meet my pretty.” Her eyes met your bulging eyes in the mirror. There was a hollowness within them that couldn’t be conjured even in someone’s worst nightmare. An image you wouldn’t ever be able to erase no matter how hard you tried.

“It was hard finding you, you hide yourself pretty well.” You had no idea you were hiding, much less hiding from her. It clicked, this was the woman the Reaper was speaking of. This was the Witch!

“Someone finally bought my dress, I’ve been waiting for someone to come save me.” She whispered in your ear, “What a fine sacrifice you’ll be. You have such a pure soul too, Satera will surely be pleased when you take my place.”

You shakily got out with a heavy bob of your throat, “Who-who are you?”

She chuckles, “You’ll find out soon.” She held onto you tighter and dragged her sharp nails across your neck imitating a knife. “When the day comes, I will come for you and my name will be your last words.”

In the next second, she vanished just as quickly as she appeared, her sinister laughter echoed off the bathroom tiles.

You found your breath again and clutched at the counter top trying to regain balance. Where she had ran her finger burned, your hand covered the mark neck on instinct. You focused on breathing, but her words echoed in your head.

This was real. The resurgent was real, the dress was hers, and she knows where you live. The resurgent found you! You were tainted. Tangled in a promise, you were going to become that image that brought you feared.

You ripped off your underwear and scrubbed your whole body with scalding hot water. It felt like her smell was heavy gunk on you, especially where she had touched you. You scrubbed until your skin was raw and the steam began to reek of your body wash. You broke down crying. It wasn’t a dream, this was real, she was real.

You’re tainted.

It was at least a half hour before you came out of the shower. You wrapped a different towel around yourself and stuck to the wall as you walked down the hall to your bedroom. You felt so exhausted. You slip on a new pair of underwear and unusually pajamas and what you think is your robe, you aren’t really paying attention. You needed to feel covered.

You walked out of your bedroom towards the living room when a voice called to you. “Are you alright? Why’d you call me?”

You screamed using your already raw throat past its limit and held onto your robe with a deathly grip. You turned towards Namjoon, recognizing the voice, “What is wrong with you!”

He took in your red figure and bloodshot eyes, but what was most surprising was you were wearing his blazer, “What’s wrong Y/n?”

You sunk against the wall, the way he looked at you made you cave in, “She-She was in the bathroom with me. ShecameupbehindmewhenIclosed the-the—,” deep inhale, ”mirrorandheldup her-her knifes to my neck!”

Namjoon bolted towards you picking you up before you sunk to the floor. He held your hands, stopping your flailing hands to get a look at your neck. Thick lines were inflamed across your neck. He could smell it too, a faint smell of death lingering on your skin. He weighted frown settled on his lips, this wasn’t supposed to happen. She had found you despite the protection you had because of his blazer. He had even placed one on the apartment when he left that night. He wasn’t expecting her ever to find you, much less taunt you. He thought he’d have more time, a year, before she went out looking for you.

Blubbering your words, “She said, ugggnnnhhh.”

“Shhh, Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

He had made an indirect promise to keep you safe, to figure this out, yet he wasn’t keeping it. You nearly died and right under his nose. Guilt bubbled in his stomach, how much more could he mess up?

“Pack some stuff and let’s go.”

You looked up at him in surprise, “Oh no, I’m not falling for that again.”

He frowned, “She’s only going to come back.”

“Where am I going to go? I have nowhere to go.” You raised your hand to your mouth nibbling on your thumb. Wouldn’t she follow you anywhere? Was anywhere safe?

He stepped back, “With me, you can stay with me. I have a house just outside the city. Until I can get this place cleansed you can’t come back here.”

“With you!” You scoffed, suddenly remembering your connection and pushing away from him. You still haven’t forgiven him, or completely trusted him. “I’m not going anywhere with you, the last time I did I nearly died! How do I know you’re not going to just do the same?”

He sighed, “The blazer, you have my blazer.”

“What about it.”

“Just like she has a piece of you,” he pulled at the lapel for emphasis, ”with that, you have a piece of me.”

You finally looked at what you were wearing, and you realized you had his blazer on. A hot flush covered your cheeks, and it deepened as you realized the intensity of what it really meant.

“Your soul is in this blazer?”

“The uniform is like a vessel, just like that dress. It holds a small bit of me, but it doesn’t harm you or transfer, instead…it protects you.”

You lessened your grip around the lapels, feeling a bit guilty for treating it so carelessly. For doubting his sincerity, it was just hard to trust anyone at this point. You still didn’t know if you could trust him fully yet though, he needed to earn that from you.

You ran a hand through your still wet hair, “Won’t she just follow me to your place.”

He smiled, “I’ll be there to protect you then if she does.”

You couldn’t find it in you to argue with him. Fiercely flicking your wrist, you pointed to your eyes then at him jabbing it a few times in his direction for emphasis, “ I’m trusting you, so…okay, give me a minute.”

“Leave the dress.” You didn’t bother answer him, you figured that much, and continued walking away to your room.

He watched as you walked away wrapped in his blazer with a quirk in his brows. You didn’t take it off after he pointed it out instead he watched you wrap it around you tighter.

What had he gotten himself into?

You weren’t capable of handling the responsibility of driving given your shaken state. He drove the both of you in your car over to his home with a stuffed duffle bag in the trunk. He drove twenty minutes away from your apartment to a suburban neighborhood where the streets were quiet and the homes were far apart from one another and well out of your budget. You had no idea this part of your city existed, maybe because you hadn’t lived here your whole life.

He pulled up to a stone pillared gate that had an elegant white fence concealing the estate from the outside world. On each side were two grand stone dogs that had their jaws open mid bark. He didn’t need to press a remote as they opened automatically for him. He drove in slowly away from the tarmac road onto a sun stone paved driveway. Along the driveway on both sides were various floral plants, shrubbery and trees. You could only assume much because it was so late and very dark, but the yard seemed to go on about a mile out. When he parked the car in front of the garage you were gawking at the huge, two story white transitional home. Lights were on inside of the home outpouring warm orange light that was so welcoming. You weren’t expecting this in the least, the white especially.

The first intelligent words out of your mouth were, “Wow, this home is beautiful.”

He smiled, “Thanks, just got it today.”

You looked at him, jaw hanging open. Today? Did he say today?

He shrugged, “Perks of being a Reaper.”

He got out of the car and opened the trunk. You came to your senses and flung the car door open and took your bag before he could. You didn’t want to impose any further on him. He chuckled under his breath and politely pointed towards the house for you to follow him. You stepped up a short staircase to a mid-size dark wood front door and engraved in the wood was an inverted torch. Ivy clung to border of the door and the white walls of the home and wrapped itself around the hanging lanterns. There was something mysterious about this place, it felt so magical.

Your eyes bulged as he opened the front door revealing the inside of his home. You weren’t in Kansas anymore that’s for sure, maybe not even Earth. He walked past you with natural ease, his dress shoes clicking on the polished marble flooring. When you were still standing outside, he looked back, “Take off your shoes and come in. My place is your place.”

You forced off your shoes hopping a bit, your duffle bag making you slightly lop sided, “What do you mean just go it today?”

He shrugged, “I don’t live ‘here’ per say…or anywhere really, so I got this place.”

You were about to question for more answers, but he left you standing there alone in the entry way. He walked through the house confidently to the kitchen. He opened the double doors of the fridge and looked over his shoulder, “Hungry?”

You deadpanned, “You know how to cook?”

He bit his lip, “No, but I can try. It seems easy.”

You were dumbfounded. This home was completely furnished, fully stocked and it looked like he had lived here for a while. It had that lived in cozy feel with the simple architecture but defining décor in a monochrome palette.

He dropped an assortment of vegetables on the table and slung a knife out the knife rack and begun cutting a carrot. When he depressed the knife half of the carrot flew right in front of you and across the room. You broke out of your stupor and ran over to him taking the knife from his hand, “No, no, no, you may be the Grim Reaper but stay away from cooking. I’ll cook, you do Reaper stuff…or something.”

He pouted then chuckled, “Are you sure? I can help at least.”

You picked a few vegetables out of the bunch, “Put the rest away and then wash these ones.” He followed orders easily and you were able to pick some more things out of the cabinets, and a dash of seasoning here and there. He found an apron for you to wear, “Don’t get the blazer dirty.”

You took off the blazer and placed it carefully over the back of a chair. You wrapped it around you, you didn’t even realize you left your house still wearing pajamas and his blazer. Your cheeks heated up, but you kept your eyes on the frying pan.

You plated two plates of stir fry in half an hour flat. You wiped the sweat off your brow, “Let’s eat.”

Namjoon sat down at the table eying the food like you had the house, “Wow.”

You laughed as you slid into the dinning chair, “It’s just stir-fry.”

He dug in immediately and practically moaned at the taste, “I haven’t had a home cooked meal…ever.”

You nearly dropped your fork, “Ever?”

He nodded but continued to shovel food in his mouth. You smiled and ate your food peacefully across from him. You had barely made it through half your plate when he was serving himself seconds. He was like a vacuum. It was such a simple dish, yet he was treating it like fine dining. You set your fork down after taking your last bite and he shyly looked up at you. He swallowed a lump of food then shoved around a vegetable with his fork suddenly modest, “Thank you for the meal.”

You giggled and took a napkin and gestured it towards the flakes of food around his mouth.  He shyly took it and wiped his mouth. “You’re welcome.”

At this point you had completely forgotten about why you were at his house. However, you didn’t want to remain naïve to that comfort. You cleared your throat, “Who is she?”

He went silent chewing on a vegetable then swallowed it with a gulp of water. “Celina is a powerful resurgent. She’s was even one of the members of the Hecate Council. A council of only the most powerful witches. Her and her sister were one of the greatest witches to ever be a part of the council. However, that wasn’t enough for Celina. Secretly, against Hecate law, she started performing the Dark Arts.

They’re dark arts for a reason, it goes against the natural balance by betraying Hecate law. She learned cursed spells…and necromancy. The biggest sin by betraying Satera to interfere with life and death, but I’m responsible for maintaining the balance by collecting.

Celina was exiled when the council found out, her sister was exiled along with her from the council. Her whole family of prestigious witches was shamed for Celina’s betrayal to the Witch’s Oath.

Celina felt she had more potential than the council limited her to, so she went rogue and fully committed to the Dark Arts. She learned how to use her magic to achieve ‘pseudoimmortality’.

I’ve been chasing her for about a century, but she keeps changing form and finding new…host. But, resurging, it’s something that eventually eats you alive, literally. “

He took a big gulp of water, “She’s learned how to use objects to find her victims.”

He set down his fork and looked you in the eyes conveying a million things to you, but verbal unleashes the truth, “And you…you…happen to have one of them...her next host.”

His words hung heavy on your chest. Celina wasn’t an ordinary witch, she was your puppeteer.

You picked up your dishes and headed towards the sink wanting to distract yourself. Namjoon followed you, “Y/n, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said all that. She won’t bother you again.”

You turned on the faucet then turned towards him, “I know Namjoon. I know.” You took a sponge and rinsed off the dishes and placed them in the dishwasher.

Namjoon stepped in taking the dishes from you, “Guest shouldn’t clean.”

You nudged back in you weren’t raised to stand by, “Who knew the Reaper was so traditional.” He laughed nudging you with his elbow playfully.

He had showed you to a room soon after you both washed the dishes and cleaned up. You followed him up the stairs insisting you could carry your bag just fine. It felt odd being doted on by the Reaper. The second floor was just as impressive as the first. He walked down a warmly lit hall, stuffed bookshelves were about, plants with exotic flowers and figurines. You noticed the reoccurring crest of an inverted torch about the house.

He opened a door theatrically, “Your room.” He allowed you to walk in first. You looked around your room in awe, the room resembled a high-class hotel room. Luscious, thick carpet soothed your feet and you were instantly sure this was heaven. Your eyes focused on the queen-sized bed, the other furniture blurred as your eyes just focused on that single piece. You walked forward and tested it out by face planting into the comforter. Around you the fluffy comforter huffed as the air trapped within the fabric released sinking you into the softness.

Namjoon laughed from the doorway then trailed in and set your bag down by the edge of the bed, “Do you need anything?” You rubbed your heads into the comforter mumbling out no. He looked over his shoulders and smiled, you had already knocked out in a matter of seconds.

As soon as the door shut softly, the smile on his face dropped. His eyes swirled, and eyes turned black. He turned down the hall holding out his hand and in it apparated his scythe. His body slowly morphed as he dissolved into rolling, fine black dust as he dissipated. There were serious matters to deal with.

When you came down the stairs in the morning you found a note on the kitchen counter along with a key for the house for you to take. You went to work like normal, you felt protected. This route actually made it easier to get to and from work. When you came home you made dinner for yourself and Namjoon. He popped in unexpectedly appearing in the kitchen like a ghost, “I’m home.” You shivered tossing the potato you were peeling in your hand as your body trembled in fright. He caught it mid-air, “Whoa!”

You looked at him wide eyed, “Jesus! Don’t do that!” He set the potato down giving you that look of a scolded puppy, “Sorry, it’s just a habit.”

You sighed, at tapped his head like you would a puppy to comfort it. This was something you were going to have to get used to. “It’s okay.”

Over dinner Namjoon told you that it would take two weeks for your apartment to be cleaned. Yesterday you would’ve groaned, but you were quite content here for the meantime. Days passed and you started a routine in your new environment. You started warming up to Namjoon. You’ve come to be comfortable with his supernatural ways. You found out despite his chic exterior, he’s quite the goof ball. You’ve banned him from his own kitchen when he set a pan on fire. On quieter nights you asked him to explain things about the supernatural world and magic. He only confirmed some things, like werewolves were actually a thing, but he refused to go deeper than that. In his words, “There were just things you shouldn’t know.”

You came home through the front door shucking off your shoes. “Namjoon, I’m home!” As soon as your feet touch the cold tile you sigh in relief. Heels, why do they make you wear heels in an office? You make it a few steps into the house and Namjoon appears out of nowhere. You gasp holding a hand over your chest, “Jesus Christ! We’ve discussed this Namjoon, appear like a normal person.”

He chuckled, “Sorry, habitual.” He watched as you stung clung to the nearest item, “Would it make it up to you if I took you out to dinner?”

You raised a brow to him, “Your treat?”

“My treat.”

You smirked, “I guess I can forgive you then, let me get changed.”

He shook his head, “No need. You look nice.” He placed your shoes back in front of you silently bidding you to slip them back on. You wiggled your feet back into your shoes, feet protesting, but you weren’t going to pass up dinner.

He took your hand in his, “Ready?”

“Ready.” You began walking towards the front door again, but Namjoon yanked you back. You stumbled and landed in his chest with a huff and an apology. He wrapped his arms tight around you, and in the next second you were being consumed in smoke, “Namjoon!”

“Calm down, it’s going to be okay.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as the darkness rippled around you. You felt the world shifting around you and sudden a biting cold hitting your skin. You fought off the nausea as you staggered on the spot, but Namjoon held you up. You looked around noticing you were in an alleyway. “Namjoon, where are we?”

He took your hand, gently tugging you away, “You’ll see.”

You pulled your coat tighter around you with your free hand shivering a bit. You jogged a bit to walk next to him. Your tongue felt serpentious, “Can I pay you to take me to work in the morning? I’d really like an extra half hour of sleep if you could take me instead.”

A familiar smirk curling his lips, “My powers aren’t your taxi.”

You scoffed mumbling under your breath, “What is this then?” He kept moving forward unhearing of your sarcasm. Your hands were still entangled but you didn’t mind; his hands were very warm like a thermos. Winter was just around the corner, a few weeks before all the rustic leaves would take their final bow.  

The alleyway was an inception as it opened up to one of the busiest streets downtown. You turned onto a smooth sidewalk falling naturally into the flow of pedestrian traffic. Namjoon altered his steps to match your footsteps. Whenever you’re alone going to work you feel the need to constantly look over your shoulder but standing next to Namjoon you don’t feel the need to do so. The walking talisman pulled you closer to the left alternating between people moving maximum speed.  

You joked, “For a second I thought you were going to take me to Limbo again.”

He snorted, “No, no, I don’t plan to ever take you there again, unless—?” He raised a brow suggesting if you did want to, he could.

You punched his arm lightly. He banked further left in the crowd, “Come on.” He pushed a shop’s door open, the bell above dinging announcing your arrivals. The whistling of the espresso machine responded back to your entrance. You look over Namjoon’s shoulder and recognized the establishment. This was the same café where it all started. The familiar cooper lights, the barista with tired eyes, and it lacks the same pollution as the streets you just came from. Namjoon keeps walking and took you over to an empty booth, the same booth you both had met.

Confusion made you furrow your brows. “Why’d you pick this place?”

He waved over the waiter, “I thought this place needed a redemption. You know, give it a chance to be the place it is instead of a place where you got dumped.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, “Who said I got dumped!”

He shrugged, a fire flickering in his eyes, “A pretty lady sitting all alone with an unfinished cup of tea on a Friday night. I just took a wild guess.”

You felt your heart stuttering in your chest, did he call you pretty? You played it off coolly, “He probably was a loser anyways.”

The waiter comes over and leaves menus and glasses of water on the table. As you browse through the menu, “The scariest part about that night was the man who slid into my booth.”

He rolled his eyes, “How long are you going to hold that over my head?”

You shrugged. He set down his menu, “Next time wear pants to a date instead of a dress.” Your shoulders shook as you laughed, if only you wore pants that day. You missed it but a glimmer sparked in his eyes, he knew by the redness in your cheeks you were enjoying the teasing.

The waiter came back around and you both order dinner settling on getting the same thing. Not long after does the waiter come with your food. You poke around at your food, “Namjoon, how did you become…the Reaper.”

He looked at you silently while chewing his food, you knew that look. You could practically mock the words he spoke through his eyes: there’s just somethings you shouldn’t know. You ignore the look, “Oh come on Namjoon. Alright, fine, I’ll tell you something about myself then so were even.”

“I moved out here five years ago all by myself, fresh out of college. I wanted to move to the big city thinking that I could do it on my own. I moved in with a roommate after I couldn’t find a decent priced placed for cheap. It was nice because the person I lived with got me a job at the current place I work. She was a cool, but then it turned out she was sleeping with the boss. It got messy and she ended up leaving the company after his wife found out. She left the company and the apartment, so I had to leave. I luckily found the place I’m at now. It was either that or move back home and that was the last thing I could ever want.”

You looked up and made eye contact with the person in same position as Namjoon in the booth behind you. His eyes were wide as he averted his eyes the same time you did. You quickly sipped your hot drink; the steam could easily be blamed for your hot cheeks. You realized a bit too late you shared a bit too much.

He laughed into his coffee cup, not at you but your reaction. Hot liquid splashed onto his upper lips. He hisses and quickly wiped it away while still chuckling to himself.

“Fair enough.” He takes another sip of his coffee despite the sting.

“My great grandfather was the youngest of his siblings and the last to visit the Moirai. The Moirai were three sisters who bestowed fate. My great grandfather was a clumsy man, but an adventurer none the less. He always carried a sickle with him, a gift from his own father, Cronus.

On the day of his bestowment when he turned twenty-five, he was late to his own destiny. He got caught up in one of his adventures. He ran up the stairs of Fate and begged for forgiveness asking for another chance. Morta, one of the three sisters and goddess of death, stood up from her throne upset. She held up his thread with her scissors ready to cut the thread. He protested lunging up to stop Morta from severing his thread. In the process he tripped over his own thread, and when he landed his sickle pierced his heart. His blood tainted the thread and he died on the thread, but his fate didn’t end there. He awoke moments later, eyes completely black, because his blood tainted the thread that Morta was handling he changed his fate. His fate became to be the Reaper.

As a child I never wanted to be the Reaper. I wanted to go into education, teaching music, but that was never my destiny. The Grim Reaper before me was father, but his hour glass broke and fell before his time was up. I was only a boy, asleep in my bed when I was woken up by my Mother and I was told my father had passed. I had to take over immediately, before I turned twenty-five. There wasn’t time to mourn. The pits of hell needed to be tamed, the underworld commanded and to keep the river of Styx’s steady.”

“Why couldn’t your mother inherit the position? Why did you, so young, have to take it on?” You felt a bit of anger boiling, why would an adult put that much pressure on a child?

He smiled endeared by your reaction, “The responsibility is passed down through son. Although, women can be reapers, but they’re known as the Duximina’s. I may be the Grim Reaper, but I only have control of what happens over humans or humans turned supernatural like demons. The Duximina are reapers that can reap the supernatural. I obey Satera, but Duximina’s are of their own accord.”

The rim of your cup had coffee stains that reminded you of pulled waves leaving their foam residue. You ran your finger over the stains, the heat from your fingers softening it up. Namjoon was a young man who lived with the mind of an old man who had known suffering all too well. Although, you didn’t know his age, “How old are you Namjoon?”

He scratched at the underside of his chin jutting his chin in thought, “I stopped aging at twenty-five, because of the ‘curse’, but I will continue to live on until my time is up. I stop keeping track after three hundred, so I’d say—.”

You coughed choking on air, “Thr-three hundred?”

He looked around a few eyes were on you. He gestured with his hand towards them that you were alright, then he reached over patting your back. He passed you a napkin, “Is my age that surprising?”

You smothered the fire burning in your throat, voice hoarse, significantly quieter, “Did you say three hundred?”

He nodded, “I’d ask out of curiosity what’s yours, but I know its rude to ask a woman her age. I don’t want a felines death on my hands.”

“If we count my age in cat years, the cat would surely be dead.”

He bit his lip suffocating a laugh, “Glad I didn’t ask then.”

When you took a deep breath you got out, “Thank you Namjoon, thank you for telling me.”

His eyes softened up and just nodded, not really sure what to say. However, he found telling you easy. You were easy to talk to, easy to be around, easy to be with.

The foot traffic slowly trickled outside the window as the night prolonged on. Dinner with death was quite exceptional.

You split from Namjoon when you came home, a shower and a warm bed in your line up. You hummed contently, dinner had put you in bright sprits. You slipped your shirt off and pants changing into something more comfortable when you felt a chill rise your spine. Your nostrils filled with the scent of Earth. You turned towards the window, your curtains were gently flowing in the night breeze. You had this feeling, a pull, telling you to go towards it. You approached the window pulling aside the flowing curtains revealing an empty backyard lit up only by the moonlight. You heard your name being called melodically. You sought out the voice feeling an echo in your chest. It was calling you from somewhere out there. You froze as your eyes focused on a being levitating above the protected grounds outside the boundaries of the property. It was the Witch. Your eyes began to focus on the figure that called out to you in a changing voice that fills your room with her eerie timber. She was so far away yet she has power over you. Despite knowing what she was, you wanted to follow the enticing voice. Threads wrapped around your heart tugging you closer to the window. You brought a hand up to the cold glass, eyes glazing over as you let her control your instincts.

The door flung open, hard enough it put a dent in the wall. Namjoon swept over you like a crow with his expansive arms closing in around you and turning you away from the window. When he broke the spell, you felt like you were punched in the gut. You hunched over into his embrace groaning in pain.

He covered your eyes, “Don’t listen to her.”

He turned you into his chest and you buried your face in his chest covering your ears with your hands. You mumbled nonsense to overpower her spell. From deep within his system lava erupted, “I call upon the hounds.”

In the backyard hell hounds manifest mid stride from vapor. Despite cupping your hands over your ears tugging on your hair, feral barking resonates throughout the room. The sound dimed out until it was nonexistent and you as could only assume they chased the Witch far away.

He took your hands off your ears when it was safe. “Namjoon, what was that?” You clutched at his shirt feeling unsure about your stance.

He sighed, “It wasn’t her, just an animation of her. She can’t come inside these boundaries, don’t worry.”  

Don’t worry? How were you not supposed to worry?

“I’ll stay until you fall asleep.” He closed the window and pulled the curtains. You got back in bed and he sat in the corner of the room like a guard dog. You found it hard to close your eyes, but eventually your eyelids felt heavy. You somehow were able to find sleep.

Days had passed since the animation had shown up. You’ve gone on with your life, there was no there was choice but to keep normalcy.

To keep with normalcy, you were watching TV in the living room. After a long day at work you sprawled out in your comfortable clothes across the couch. Namjoon slumped into the couch with you when he apparated in the living room, this time you didn’t flinch. You didn’t bother turning towards him as he sat, but you passed the popcorn to him. You were watching Family Feud and the host just asked, “Bad jobs for someone who’s accident prone.”

You hummed in thought then responded confidently, “Grim Reaper.”

Namjoon huffed in offense, “Hey!”

You chuckled and he sat through the show with you, stuffing popcorn into his mouth. He squinted, “That doesn’t make sense, why would a lawnmower be a thing you could use to cut vegetables?”

You pointed to the board and said, “Wait for it.”

Then sure enough the host called it and turned to the board and it was on the panel with ten people having suggested it. Namjoon huffed in disbelief, some popcorn waving out of the bowl as he threw his hands in the air.

You took the bowl form him for safety purposes. “The point is you have to think of illogical answers to logical questions. That’s how the game works.”

At some point he began pacing around the couch frustrated that his illogical guesses weren’t illogical enough. When he did start getting one answer right, he sat back down, competitive with the TV. You ended up spending all night on the couch watching a marathon of Family Feud. He looked over to you calling your name, but when you didn’t respond he looked over to you. He realized he was debating on his own and you had fallen asleep curled up on the opposite end of the couch. He turned off the TV and carried you up the stairs like a princess and tucked you in bed. It became routine for you both to watch the show when he came home from wherever he went. You tried asking him where he went, but he gave you a vague response, “Everywhere.” You’d facepalm, there was never any clarity with him.

Namjoon had left his door open to his room one day, and you peeking inside wondering if he wanted breakfast with you. You stepped inside reluctantly calling his name, but there was no response. He had already gone for the day. You looked around his room, you’ve never been in there before. The furniture in his room was dark and monochromatic like the rest of the house. The first thing that caught your eye was the impressive library. You glanced over the curious book titles such as Blood testing for Vampires, Textual Power for Newts, and Sociological Incantations. There were books in Latin, but you didn’t bother even touching those.

There was a column dedicated to leather bound books. You were about to reach for one, but a wave of nausea came over you. You clutched onto the book shelf holding a fist up to your lips burping up a putrid bubble. You felt sick to your stomach suddenly, the books could wait for later. You felt the sudden need to lay down. You wanted to head back to your room, but an intense wave of nausea washed over you and you crashed onto Namjoon’s bed. Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes, everything was fuzzy. When an intense pain came over you, that was the final blow, then you saw nothing.

Shaking you awake Namjoon’s voiced echoed in your ears until it became crystal clear. You came face to face with Namjoon; his face was covered in dirt and dark smears of red. You sat up haphazardly, “What happened to you?”

He disregarded your question, voice simmering, “What’s wrong? Why are you in my bed?”

You blinked awake taking his chin between your fingers turning his head to inspect for any injury, “Let’s get this checked out.”

You both were avoiding eachothers questioning. You slipped off his bed and into the bathroom wetting a washcloth and went back to him to clean him up. You ran the wet cloth carefully over the gunk on his face. He asked again, “What-happened?”

“I came looking for you,” you realized it was late in the evening, ”but …I felt dizzy for a moment, then took a nap. Sorry I slept on your bed.”

He cupped your cheek taking your attention away from him, “Are you okay?”

You nodded, “I feel better after taking a nap.” You did, you felt fine.

He nodded, not fully trusting your word but he let you continue your work, “Are you okay? Will you tell me where you’ve been? No avoiding the question Joon.”

Earlier…earlier he…

He had been collecting a soul in Limbo when he felt it. He raised his scythe to his kneeling victim who was rubbing their hands together begging for a second chance. Namjoon scoffed, “A man who hurt his own children and wife doesn’t deserve a second chance. “ He raised his scythe and ripped the soul out of the demon who dared to beg at his feet. The body began dissipating and eventually dissolved into the fog. A muddy brown sludge dripped off his scythe into his hand. He collected the sludge into a ball of sin and crushed it in his hands, “Satera: Ego hoc animo metitur seges. Expiet aeternum non solum pacis sitque terras.” The dirty soul dried up from his hands as he opened his hands back up.

Edax growled from his cave and it echoed throughout Limbo. He felt the echo of vibrations within the stem of his scythe. He didn’t have to seek it out, a crippled hand busted through the soil and the body crawling its way up make the soil boil. A head erupting following shoulders, the other hand, then a torso. The grey being with a head coming from the soil. Namjoon’s nose filled with the scent of rotting meat as the dark macabre emerged from its grave. She stood tall with dark soil falling from her figure. She was wearing that dress…that dress. It hung limply from her decrepit form. A smile formed on her lips, “Hello Namjoon.”

If hatred filtered through the air, the dense fog would be dyed scarlet. Namjoon readied his scythe, “Celina!”

She wasted no time in crookedly running towards him with a shrill scream. He raised his scythe and prepared for the worst. Her dried skin hung to her thin skeleton like body like leather, yet there was so much force in her actions. She crossed blows and he did his best to block them with his scythe and returned with equal force. Her frantic, violent movements were meant to smash him into the Earth from where she had risen.

It was odd she wasn’t using magic, he knew this witch was capable of terrifying things. He lifted her up with his scythe and threw her a few feet off of him. Like an animal on all fours, she bolted her way towards him and lunged at him snarling like a beast. The impact sent the both of them rolling and she kept mauling towards him. They rolled a few times and Namjoon landed under her, her bloody fingers reached out to his face grabbing at him. She scratched at his face and tried digging her fingers into his eyes. She wanted him obliterated, destroyed with nothing left of him but pieces. He concentrated his strength and rolled again with her under him and he continued rolling in the dirt. A wave of soil came off him as he summersaulted to a stand. Taking the opening chance, he swung his scythe and severed her in half. A gut wrenching scream filled the air as he raised his sludge tainted blade one more time. He took this opportunity and severed her head, it rolled cutting through the fog.

He was panting hard, covered in soot and blood, his face was scratched, but he was glad that was all that had happened.

The skull remained in the soil chuckling, “I’m still coming for her Namjoon. You’re not going to stop me. I will always win. Her soul is mine.”

He growled and chopped down the blade going straight through her skull severing the last piece of her. The Lich disintegrated back turning into soil.

Namjoon clenched his scythe in his hands, and roared into the fog, “CELINA!”

He was so close, so close.

“I was summoned.” You remained silent. You knew exactly what that meant, and it explained more than enough for you.

He sighed, “You…can go home now.” Your home had been cleansed for a few days, but he didn’t want to tell you, earlier just solidified that. He wanted you to stay within his grasp where he could protect you. More so, he looked forward to coming home, a home, because there was someone there. A Persephone to his hadistic life.

He quickly followed, “You don’t have to go back, you can stay.”

Two weeks had passed by so quickly. You lowered your hand with the dirty rag. Those dark eyes you’ve become accustom to looking at morning and night, his constant dark attire, and slightly disheveled hair and dorky smile. You would love to stay here. This home was beautiful and felt like home more than your own apartment had ever. You felt protected here…but so was your home now. Things were going to be better. Namjoon was looking over you so she wouldn’t bother you again.

It was going to be okay.

You finished cleaning his face, careful of the scratch marks, “Thank you Namjoon, but I’d like to go home.”

He swallowed any protest, gritting his teeth but he respected your decision despite how much he wanted to argue against it. If he protested harshly you would begin to worry and question things, “Leave in the morning then, it’s too dark out.”

There was a moment of silence between the both of you. You glanced at the discarded scythe on the floor and picked it up. You handed it back to him, “Okay.”

“Okay.” It was going to be okay.

Life went back to normal, you left Namjoon’s home the following morning and it’s been weeks since you’ve moved back home. As Namjoon promised, there weren’t any more incidents with Celina, however, there was always this looming feeling. You never felt truly safe, at least not the way you felt when you were at his home or when he was around. You could take care of yourself though.

Namjoon visited your apartment for dinner every night and often stayed longer after dinner. Your apartment was fairly small, but the giant somehow fit on the couch when he fell asleep watching TV with you. You didn’t mind, you weren’t sure you were comfortable living alone anymore. The couch felt too spacious when he wasn’t hogging about seventy-five percent of it.

You were making dinner the other day when all the sudden he stood up from his chair. He knocked the chair from under him, “I have to go.” You didn’t get a chance to bid him goodbye, he vaporized and only the tossed chair was evidence he was just there. The sizzling of the food in the pan filled the room, as your previous giggling at his joke died out. Just like that, you were alone again.

That was just how things were, and that was okay. Things were okay.

You walked up the stairs to your apartment and took out your keys out of your purse as you walked up. You hummed a tune that played twice as you were making it home on the radio. A funky smell intensified as you walked up the stairs, maybe your neighbor was cooking something rotten again. You came up to your apartment door trying not breath in the foul smell. You covered your mouth with your sleeve picking up speed towards your apartment. You haphazardly jammed your key into the lock then froze when your shoe squelched as you stepped on your welcome mat. You looked down finally noticing the source of the foul smell. Flies eagerly swarmed around the severed pig head that was discarded below your feet like the mat was a dinner platter. Vivid burgundy near black blood from the head had soaked in the doormat. You dropped your keys and into your sleeve you suppressed a scream. You didn’t want to disturb or notify your neighbors. You picked up your keys with a shaky hand and opened your door up and quickly ran into the kitchen to grab a plastic bag and dust pan. You hesitated, reached out once then pulled back screaming in your throat then bit the bullet and shoveled the head into the bag with the pan. With a paper towel you picked up your doormat and blood dripped in a stream off an edge. You quickly packed it into the trash bag avoiding getting it on you, holding back the gag with all your might. You rushed back inside and got bleach and a scrub brush. You got down on your knees covering your mouth with your wrist. You poured bleach onto the blood diluting the coagulated redness replacing the slaughterhouse smell with something equally as intense. You scrubbed furiously, but the cement was stained. You wiped up as much as you could, tossing the dirty rags in the trash bag.  

You made haste towards your apartment’s dumpster. As you walked you held your breath not wanting to take in anymore of that putrid smell. The fear from earlier turning to anger. There was only so much intimidation a person could take before they snapped. You hated this! You hated that she was tormenting you, reminding you that you were tied to her. You tossed in the bag hearing it thud in the hollow bin.

A wave of dizziness suddenly over took you. You heaved and felt a sudden thickening of your saliva with an impressive wave of nausea. You held onto the edge of the bin and began dry heaving. The same dizziness you felt about a few weeks ago at Namjoon’s home. Your heaved once then as much as you tried preventing it you puked. You watched as a pile of mud mounded at your feet splashing onto your shoes. You wiped away the mud at your mouth, it tasted terrible. You looked at your hand noticing the dark sludge. Why were you throwing up dark sludge!

Something was terribly wrong!

You stumbled back up to your apartment. You slammed the door behind you and ran into your room. You yanked Namjoon’s blazer off the hanger and threw it on shoving your arms into the sleeves one at a time. You marched back out into the darkness of your living room standing in the center. You coughed then heavily breathed in, “Namjoon!” You screamed into thin air, “Namjoon!”

Moments later a thick black swirling cloud appeared in front of you. Namjoon’s head was leaning back and he slowly dipped it forward, soot eyes rumbling and smoky. He looked over you and was about to ask what was wrong, but you cut him off, “Why did you lie to me!”

You changed your train of thought, “Tell me what I gotta do.”

He sputtered approaching you, “What?”

You grabbed onto the lapels of his new blazer, “What. Do. I. Have. To. Do. Tell me!”

He grabbed onto your hands trying to release them, but you were tightly gripping, “Tell me what happened first?”

You loosened your grip and paced around for a moment, “A pig’s head on my doorstep that’s what! I can’t let you just try to solve everything Joon, I want to do something! I’m tired of just waiting around for this Witch. I can’t keep living like this! So, tell me! Tell me what I gotta do to help you Namjoon!”

He stepped closer stopping you from pacing. He wiped away the dirt and looked at it sadly, shamefully, he’s been working endlessly, traveling to different realms to find her, but every tendril he latched onto lead him to a loose end.

You shoved his hands away and sat down, wrapping your arms around your chest, the weight of everything adding onto your shoulders. “I’ve looked up who Satera, necromancy, and all this is. I wanted to know what I was dealing with.”

While at Namjoon’s you found some books that had the names of things that sounded familiar. It led you down a rabbit hole giving you more answers than Namjoon had ever. Satera was the goddess of Balance, a Titan of Earth and is the keeper of souls. You found out why witches weren’t supposed to deal in necromancy. Bringing someone back from the dead was cheating Satera and in order for Earth to be balanced a soul had to be collected. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.

His eyes widen, fatigue showing through his normally passive demeanor. Anger was building in his system, just what have you been sticking your nose into.

Most importantly, “Namjoon, you said that the dress tainted my soul.”

He nodded, “Why are you stating the obvious y/n?”

You sat and thought for a second back to a passage you read, “If-if I have a tie to her because of that dress and her soul has tainted me, then that means…I have magic too, don’t I?”

He was quite for a moment, worried if he spoke it will only inspire pandora. “I don’t think it works that way Y/n.” He shook his head in disbelief, going over a thousand more rejections in his mind.

You stood up he wouldn’t look you in the eyes when he said that. He wasn’t even humoring you! “If I do, then I have to fight her! We have a fighting chance against her. I have to put an end to this! So tell me, Namjoon! Let me help you!”

He turned around opaque, black smoke spilling out his mouth, “Then what? What if you get hurt and die? If I submit the wrong soul, then I get punished and I’m gone forever! I’ll end up just like my father! You’re not the only one on the line Y/n! If they find out—Satera finds out—that a human is working alongside me—!”

You raised your voice, “But I’m not completely human right now, I’m partial to the taint, you know that! It’s all the more reason for me to help! We have to try Joon! We can’t keep running into dead ends!”

He was firm, “No, you’re not getting involved in this.”

You argued, “I can’t keep looking over my shoulder wondering when she’ll appear!”

“Just let me take care of it!” he growled.

Words flew from your mouth, “And you see how well that’s going!” You felt regret as soon the venom left your spit, you had pushed harder than was wise. Yet, it was true. You felt so useless, a coward, you hated feeling this way. You hated feeling so vulnerable. His protection was only going so far because she kept finding ways to get to you.

He hard paused, hurt passing over his expression, “I’m-doing-the-best-I-can.”

Your lower lip quivered words slowly making way out of your mouth, “But it’s not enough.”

He steamed right up to you, chest to chest as he enunciated every hot breathy word. “NO! ENOUGH! Enough of—this! That’s the end of this discussion. You’re-not-getTING- INVOLVED!” He panted over your face, neatly tucked hair falling out of its place.

The both of you stood there, your glassy eyes intensely locked on his, you weren’t backing down, not even in the face of death. The air between you was ice cold. He took a deep breath closing his eyes centering himself again. The crimson drained out of his face, face unreadable as there was no typical smirk or dimples. He showed you his back, opening his eyes afterwards. There was a beat of silence when neither of you spoke and he was gone.

When he was gone a tear rolled down your cheek. You weren’t going to give up. With no fire there is no smoke, but sparks were coming.

You knew Namjoon wasn’t home during the day, off in the Hellscape or somewhere. After the argument the molten behind your words still were rumbling; you thought over and over how you could solve this on your own. With or without Namjoon. You drove to Namjoon’s home a few days later with a semblance of plan. Your car drove through the sea of orange and red leaves and they waved around your car as you drove through the suburban streets. You pulled into Namjoon’s driveway and the gate opened for you. You parked in front of the house, not bothering to properly park. You walked up the steps to the inverted torch crested front door. You traced your hand over the torch a tingling sensation tickled your fingertips, “I’m sorry Namjoon, but I must do this.”

You stuck your hands in the ivy that surrounded the door fishing for the extra house key. When you hand felt cold metal, you plucked it off a vine. The key itself resembled a torch except the blade was sawed like a normal key. You stuck it in the lock and twisted it waiting for the click. You turned the knob and pushed inwards. You locked the door behind you and took your shoes off at the entrance. “Namjoon? Namjoon are you home?” Your voice echoed throughout the house, but there wasn’t a echo back.

You bolted for Namjoon’s room. While contemplating, tossing and turning in bed, you remembered the bookcases in his room. He must keep something, maybe vital information, within one of those books. He always had his nose in one of those when he wasn’t watching TV with you. You just knew that there had to be something in there that could help you. You skidded as you rounded the banister, the rug bunching up as you drifted. You ran down the hallway, adrenaline running through your veins in anticipation. You knew you had a few hours before he came home. The exotic plants in the hall shivered as you zoomed past. You flung Namjoon’s bedroom door open. The large room was neatly kept, rays of light filtered in through the large windows breaking through the ash tree outside his window. It strongly smelled like him too, outlandishly of charcoal mixed with natural, delicate scents. You cautiously set down your purse on a bench. You avoided going through his desk, the only thing out was an hour glass that was top heavy. Facing the expansive library, “Speak to me books.”  

You browsed through his books, taking a few down from the shelfs. You weren’t sure what you were looking for, but something’s gotta give. Book after book came up with no details that could help. You touched a book shelf and it tingled just like the door had. You kept holding onto the feeling and trailed your hands along the spines of the books. The sensation picked up as you moved right skipping bookcase after case. The sensation kept building and building vibrating your skin until it stung. Yeowing you pulled your hand back like you just touched fire. You stopped in front of a bookcase filled to the ceiling with leather bound books. You were going to test your theory, you felt silly, but you spoke out like you saw all wizards in movies, “Reveal something.” You cautiously reached back and delicately touched the books. You pulled out a book upon instinct and flipped to the first page. The journal that didn’t look a part of this century or from this century. Three hundred wasn’t a joke was it?

You felt guilty for looking through it, your conscious telling you to put it down, that this was a bad idea. You shoved those thoughts back, you needed answers. You flipped through the brittle pages, but a lot of what was written was in an ancient language or Latin. Some pages were missing as the binding was falling apart from where the original creator had sewed the binding. You placed it back on the shelf and picked through more journals. You should’ve brought a Latin dictionary with you. The journals changed according to the time frame, but it was hard to place which volume came before the next. The last journal in the row was a black leather book with rounded edges. Your eyes were growing tired after going through about fifty some books. You kept flipping through the journal, some pages started halfway, some only had a top sentence, while others were just empty. You and found a passage in a readable language.

You traced your fingers over the word:

“Debt soils the heart

drives the mind mad.

I couldn’t save him…I couldn’t save her either.

I’m sorry.”

Couldn’t save him…her?

Numbers and letters were scribbled below the monologue. You turned the journal wondering if changing your perspective would give you a new view. You sat there staring at it. Couldn’t-save-him, debt, what does that mean. You pulled out your phone and plugged the numbers and letters into google and an address popped up. This was it! Maybe this place could help you! You quickly took a picture of the address and slid the journal back in place along with the rest of the books. You checked the room over once and picked up your purse. You needed to go before he came back.

You closed his bedroom door with a click as you turned around you ran straight into something. You boomeranged backwards and caught yourself on the doorframe. Namjoon had his arms crossed over his chest, “What were you doing in there?”

“I-I I left behind something in my room…and I used the extra house key to get in. I didn’t want to bother you about it.” You righted yourself trying to find some structure.

He titled his head to the side, “That doesn’t explain why you were in my room.”

You brushed the hair out of your face feeling a heavy blush creeping up your neck, “I…I was…I missed you.”

His arms feel down to his side, features softening up and a hesitant dimpled smile appearing on his face. A blush you didn’t know could exist on his face blossomed. “Oh,” that was his only response.

You bit on your bottom lip, it wasn’t a complete lie. You had missed him, you hated that the first time you saw eachother again was because of that.

He softened up, “I’m sorry about the other day, I shouldn’t have reacted that way. But I still don’t want you getting involved.” He rubbed his hands together, “I just…you’re already involved enough.” He bit his tongue, swallowing his pride, “Would you come back? Your apartment isn’t safe, no type of cleansing or spell over your apartment is going to keep her away.”

A dead rat in equal condition showed up in place of where the pig’s head was the next day. You didn’t want to stay there longer to find out what else was going to show up.

“Okay,” but he didn’t have to know that you weren’t going to give up.

Dimple sink his cheeks as he sighed in relief, the brought you into an unexpected hug.  He kept you in a strong embrace as if holding you wasn’t quite enough. You could feel every part of him as he pressed you tightly against him. You yelped then sunk into the warmth, your stomach fluttering at the feeling of his body pressing into yours. When you wrapped your arms around his waist and squeezed him back his dimples became craters. You rested your cheek against his chest and heard a strong heartbeat. “I’m sorry too Joon.” He squeezed you humming in relief as an answer. You wondered if he could feel your beating heart too?

He asked against your hair, “Are you hungry?”

You laughed tapping his back once, untangling yourself from his embrace. You walked backwards towards the staircase with a side of your lips raised, “As long as you’re not cooking.”

He blinked hard jutting his chin out towards you, “Hey, I’ve gotten better! I’ve only burnt one pan since you’ve left.”

He watched your face evolve from a felines smirk to that of a classic horror film. “Namjoon, you did not!”

He walked past whistling like he had no care in the world with a fool’s smile. You followed after him, “Namjoon, was that the only thing you burned?”

Surely enough, that wasn’t the only thing he burned.

 Namjoon had fallen asleep on the couch next to you as you were watching Family Feud. You searched up the address you had taken earlier. The first result that came up was a pawn shop downtown. You did some research on the shop, but nothing particularly odd came up. All the reviews were about how they got a fair price on antiques and knick-knacks. It was nearly midnight and you decided you’d have to call tomorrow on your lunch break.

You turned off the TV and got up with a grunt. You picked up the book off of Namjoon’s face and set it on the coffee table. You pulled the throw blanket off the back of the couch and splayed it over him. You squatted down and situated a pillow under his head carefully. He smacked his lips a few times as he adjusted his head into comfortable position. You brushed the hair out of his face and kept petting unconsciously. A full minute had passed before you noticed you were longingly staring. This man was a nightmare when you first met him, he was going to have you killed, but here you were, tucking him in for the night.

You leaned in and pressing your lips to his forehead, “Night Joon.”

He was dead asleep, but you swore a faint smile pulled at his lips.

Tomorrow, you were going to figure things out. There was always tomorrow.

From the images you saw of the place online it looked like a place for eccentric hippies or kooky rich people. You snuck away from your coworkers and sought out a place where you could make a phone call in private. Your leg has been shaking under your desk all day counting the hours on the clock until you could make this call. You crossed an arm over your mid-section as dialed the number you found. When the dial tone kept ringing, you nibbled on your thumb.

A man picked up, “The Strange and Unusual Pawn Shop, how may I satisfy your curiosity?”

You swallowed, you honestly didn’t prepare well for this. You thought back to the script…him…her, you tried the later, “I was wondering if… she was there?”

He questioned, “Who?”

You honestly had no idea who “she” was, so you tried it again with an emphasis, “You know…her.”

You cleared your throat a bit, embarrassed to say it out loud, “She’s the only one that can help me. She knows someone important.”

He chuckled, “Sorry kid, can’t help you.”

You shouted into the speaker, “No, wait! I’m not some kid looking for Hogwarts, or a basement dweller that lives in their parents’ house, I—I need to—. You know what, forget it!”

You were about to hang up when the guy on the line said, “Miss, I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m sorry, but…the magician you’re asking about, she doesn’t work here anymore.”

So there was a she! At the same time, you felt your heart drop, what were you supposed to do now. You were going to have to start from scratch again.

He sighed into the receiver, “Look…I’m not supposed to do this, but whatever it is, it sounds really important. Here, write this down.”

You scrambled and pulled a pen out of your pocket and began writing down the address he was giving you on a receipt from your coffee run this morning. You sighed in relief, “Thank you, you have no idea, thank you.”

He chuckled, “Good luck,” then hung up.

You went back to work but headed straight towards the bathroom. You pulled out hair from its neatly tucked position and slapped your cheeks a few times. You lightly patted some water on your face and neck before you booked it out the bathroom towards your boss’s office. You knocked on the door and heard a muffled come in. You breathed in a structuring breath, counting down the seconds… and action!

You held onto the door knob and pushed open the door dramatically stumbling into the office. Your legs were bow legged with a case of clubfoot as you leaned on the door feverishly panting. You swallowed and held a hand up to your perspiring forehead, “I’m so sorry, but I don’t think I can make it through the rest of the day.”

Your boss looked up at you with a panicked look, “Oh my God! O-k-okay, go home and rest up Ms. Y/L/N.”

You nodded squeezing your eyes shut, “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. I promise I’ll make it.”

Your boss asked, “Are you able to make it home okay?”

You waved him off with your hand, “Yes, yes, I’ll be fine.”

You began closing the door as he looked at you sympathetically, “I’m sorry.”

With a click of the door you speed walked over to your desk, still holding up the façade of illness. Your coworkers asked if you were alright and you coughed to play it up. You packed your stuff assuring them you just needed to go home.  You took the elevator and as soon as the door closed you let a smirk rise on your face. The elevator opened up to the parking garage, your heels clacked and echoed in the parking lot. You pulled your hair out of its tight confides and shook it loose. You threw your purse into your passenger seat and set your GPS to the address the clerk had given you. You were going to chase the smoke and dig into the ashes to find the heart of it all.

You drove through the city and ended up in a neighborhood where tightly packed townhomes went on for about twenty blocks. The townhomes were classic brick, three story tall homes with white windows and black iron fences. You found a spot luckily right in front of the address, the street was practically empty since it was still working hours. You stared at the quaint home through your passenger window, the home seemed so…innocent. You rounded about your car and stepped up onto the sidewalk as a young jogger ran past you. The community seemed to be family friendly and young. Was the woman you were about to meet young as well? Was she a past lover of Namjoon’s? Steeling your lips, you needed to find out if she could help you rather if she shared overtly friendly embraces with Namjoon.

You pushed open the gate and climbed up the cement stoop to a white door that had golden numbers reading off 45730. You lifted the gold door knocker and tapped it three times then stepped back. Behind you another jogger ran past, but this time with a speedy canine. You turned to watch them, patiently waiting for someone to answer the door. You were about to knock on the door again when you heard the lock turning. The door fully opened, and words left you, heart falling silent, you couldn’t will your lips to move. You gawked at the woman before you who had a wonky gait, probably from arthritis, as she pulled the door open. She was seventy at minimum considering the deep-set wrinkles that could rival canyons. Her height reached no more than five two and her width was plump. Her ghostly, thick grey hair was neatly braided, and it hung over her shoulder hanging down to her waist. Her deep set eyes propped on pink, cracked cheeks were cloudy and ashy like her hair, not the albino type though. You swear they pillowed like smoke as they focused on you. In short you realized, she was blind.

Her articulate voice was soft, “Hello, may I help you?”

You stuttered, “H-Hello, I’m Y/n. I’m looking for…the magician.”

She scoffed muttering “magician” mockingly under her breath. She adjusted the purple shawl on her shoulders, “There’s no magician here.”

She began shutting the door on you, but you stuck your foot in the door, grunting as the door slammed your toes. “W-ooO-wait, wait, please!”

She opened the door back up, releasing your toes. You massaged your foot hissing, “Please, just let me ask you some questions. I need your help.”

Her face fell, wrinkles sagging at the depression. She looked away from you, “I’m sorry, but the witch isn’t in anymore.”

You stood there in stupor as she slammed the door in your face. Punctuation taken. You weren’t convinced though, you knocked on the door with both hands until your knuckles hurt. “Please, please, I’m going to die if you don’t help me.” You kept knocking, but the tempest didn’t respond to your pleas. Dampness built in the corner of your eyes as your knocks turned into sluggish thuds. A carousel of thoughts passed through your mind, and each one gets more toxic in its turn. Blisters were forming on your knuckles, “Please.”

You turned around and slumped down on the staircase with your head in your hands. What were you going to do now?

The door slowly creaked open again, “Come in, don’t start attracting attention now.”

You sprung up to your feet, fixing your hair up and wiping the budding water in your eyes. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

She stepped aside and let you in to her home.

The house was larger than the outside led on. You were a bit worried that she would run into things, but she navigated perfectly fine. Her furniture isn’t rounded but sharp like the creator intended. She trailed her hand over her dining table, “Take a seat, I’ll prepare some tea.” You looked up and hanging above the table was a swirled chandelier where cream candles of various sizes burned, and their wax dripped down the side like stalagmites from the edges.

You pulled out a red mid-century chair and sat down tucking your feet under you and your purse on your lap. The table was wooden, but unevenly painted teal and the chairs were mismatched that came from different times and styles. In the center of the table an incense was burning, but the ashes disappeared as it fell. She came back to the table with equally mismatched tea cups onto the table. You accepted it with both hands, “Thank you.”

She smiled, the wrinkles on her face deepening for a split second. “Green tea…it calms the nerves. I can hear your heart beating and I’m sure they can hear it in kingdom come too.”

Your face heated up, were you that obviously nervous even to a blind woman?

“I’m sorry to bother you, I called the pawn shop and they told me you were here.”

“Call me Kaya, child.”

You introduced yourself formally, “I’m Y/n.”.

She stirred her tea twirling her finger above the liquid and naturally it swirled. Your jaw dropped, simple acts of magic still impressed you. You were still getting used to this world. She spoke casually, her voice melodically filling the room, “I used to help out there, but I’ve retired from my ways a very long time ago.”

She sipped her tea with a hum of content, you followed along taking the perfectly warm cup in your hand carefully sipping from the rim. The taste is absolutely delicious, you felt a wave of calmness as it washed down your throat.

“Why are you here child? What can an old, blind hag do for you?”

You aren’t sure where to start, “I bought a dress that belonged to a witch.”

The woman across from you a-ha’s as if she knows the rest of your story. She set down her tea and stretched out her hand palm up. On her wrist was a tattoo of a wheel, but it was crossed out erratically as if it was scratched by a cat as her sleeve raised up. “Give me your hand child.”

You placed your hand in hers. Her oddly bony, cold hands ran over yours and she hummed, she squeezed your hand tight as she grunted. Fatigue plagued her suddenly worn face, “A terrible witch has touched your soul child.” She continued to run her hand along the veins in your hand, humming as she finds specific spots. “What about the dress child?”

“She was a resurgent.” She dropped your hand like she touched fire. Your knuckles thunked against the table and you brought them back to your lap shyly.

She hissed, “Resurgent?”

You swallowed hard, “Yes…and that dress, she wore it when she did her thing, so now I’m her next target.”

With a bit of confidence you scooted to the edge of your seat pursing your lips, you wanted to be honest with her, “I did some research and because I’ve been…tainted by her…some of her is with me. So, I want to know…, “you mess with your hands unable to meet her gaze, “do I have the ability to do magic as well? Am I a witch now because our souls are tangled?”

You sat in silence for a moment as she debated internally. It was the same way Namjoon had reacted when you told him. The longer she remained silent the more anxious you felt, were you unsalvageable? You sipped a bit of your tea. She bravely reached across the table again, taking your hand and brought your hand up to her chest over her heart and stared directly into your eyes. Her eyes swirled iridescently as she sought within your soul. When she let go she was panting holding onto the tabletop. You caught yourself coughing when she let go, but shakily stood up and rushed rushed over to her, “Are you alright Ma’am? What just happened?”

She looked up at you, her forehead  dripping sweat. “Child, you’re not dealing with just any necromancer…if I think who I think you’re dealing with then…,” she looked away, maybe even afraid to mutter the words.

You speak them for her, “Celina.”

Her eyes widened, you spoke the exact words she dared not to. Solemnly she repeated, “Celina.” She rose from her seat and silently you followed her as walked back towards the stairs, slowly taking each step at a time with a huff. You took her hand and moved it to your forearm to help her up. She smiled and thanked you. When we reached the top of the stairs, she still held onto your hand and led you to a huge room where a large, black, cast iron cauldron was at the edge of a long working table. Unmatched Bookcases were filled with books and other shelfs had various sized and shaped bottles filled with potions. In the bottles some potions boiled, swirled about a toxic looking smoke, or ominously glowed. Crystals grew along a wall and different species of plants hung from the ceiling, some followed your movements. A gentle fire burned in a fireplace, you didn’t remember there being a chimney from the outside.

She let go of your hand and walked up to a bookcase. Some of the books jingled and shifted as she trailed her hand along their spine, “There.” She brought out a red orange, leathery book and opened it to a page she had memorized. She skimmed over the words with her fingers nodding along as she read them, despite them not being brail she was perfectly able to read them. She clapped the book shut with one hand, “That Lich, creating Vasanima.”

You repeated the last word but butchered it, “Va-shawn-minya?”

The witch laughed kindly, “Vasanima child.” She tapped her cheek with her finger as she propped her head into her palm, “She split up her soul and that dress, a Vasanima, holds a piece of her soul…but whomever takes new ownership of the item a part of their soul gets sucked in too, tangling with the creators like a contract.”

She hesitated to tell you more, “You are right child, you have great magic within you.”

You blurted out, “Will you teach me?”

She closed her eyes and shook her head putting away the book, “I don’t practice anymore.”

You begged, “Please, I need to know. You said I do have magic!”

“I don’t practice anymore.” She gathered her hands in front of her like a prissy cat. “You may leave if tha—.”

Your stomach felt full of lead, “I’m going to die if I don’t! Satera is going to come for me instead and Namjoon is going to die! I don’t want to die!”

She whipped her head to the side, “Namjoon?”

You grabbed her hand encasing them in yours surprising her with your sudden movements. You felt the tingle between you again, “Please, please, I’ll do anything! Teach me how to do witchcraft, magic, wizardry, whatever this is, please, please…please teach me.”

She grabbed onto your forearms and stared you in the eyes again, her pearls were swirling jaw going slack for a moment. She heavily sighed, blinking away the intensity, “Hold out your hands and repeat after me: Evigilare.” Her voice rang through your body like a gong, knocking on an unopened gate.

You held out your arms in front of you, palms facing up, and tested the word out, “E-Evi-gil-are.”

She scoffed, “Confidence child.”

You clear your throat and lick your lips, “Evigilare!”

A tingling pins and needles sensation shot up your suspended limbs. You hissed wanting to rub the pinching pain away, but you fought against the urge knowing you were to endure this. The acute feeling eases out into a pulse in your fingertips then your throbbing fingertips begin glowing. Suddenly flames licked and engulfed your hand. Your vision shifts, and you see colors like you’ve never seen them before, green flickering flames ghost between rose, magenta, then back to green. You let out a yelp expecting excruciating pain, but the burn never came. It felt smooth and silky, like fire was running in your veins, and intense overwhelming power. Power…magic, this was witchcraft. It was so powerful vibrating through your whole system, “Ms. Kaya is this…is this magic?”

She doesn’t have to see to know, she feels the great energy emitting from you in her bones. She feels it, “That’s magic child.”

“Will you teach me then?”

She grabbed onto your wrist and the flames in your hands extinguish like an off switch. Your eyes bugged, how was she able to do that!

“If you must defeat her…then I will teach you.”

You light up, surging forward to hug her, “Thank you, thank you.” The building tears from earlier coming back with a vengeance. You break down in her arms, muttering out snotty thank you’s.

Her hard smile turns soft as she rubs your spine, “Enough crying child, save those tears for when you start complaining I’m working you too hard.”

You laugh through the tears and nod.

The true hardship was beginning.

You stood at the front door with your coat hanging over your arm hand reaching towards the knob with hesitation. The door flung open Namjoon standing there, “Hey, what are you doing there?”

You stuttered for a moment pulling a smile, “I was trying to remember if I left something in the car.”

He nodded and stepped aside letting you in, “I bought take out, it’s getting cold hurry up.” You stood at the door watching as he walked away. You couldn’t help staring at his figure frozen like a statue. You felt the truth bubbling up in your throat, you wanted to tell him. You hated keeping secrets.

He suddenly stopped calling your name, once, twice, then on the third time you registered it. You blinked away, “Yeah-yeah?”

Carefully approaching you, “Are you okay?”

You laughed it off, “Yeah, yeah, it’s just been a long day.” He took your hand and led you inside wordlessly. You appreciated that, actions spoke louder anyways.

You don’t tell Namjoon a single thing. You smiled through dinner except he didn’t spend late night couch hogging with you. He had work to deal with, so he couldn’t join you. You stared at him with puppy eyes, you wanted to spend a quiet evening with him. You needed that. He gave a dimply smile and ruffled your hair, “I’ll be back, I promise.”

He stepped back and disappeared in a cloud of black smoke.

You sighed and picked up the dirty dishes. You paused in your step as you heard the hounds barking in the distance. You kept walking, disregarding the sounds. Warm water rinsed away bits off food instantly, you moistened the sponge and scrubbed of the residue. A wave of familiarity came over you, you felt your saliva thickening, your esophagus burning with a building pressure causing you to violently cough. Holding onto the side of the counter, your core contracted sporadically as you hacked. Bile was tickling the back of your throat, the acid burning, you were going to throw up. Your cheeks puffed out as you felt your mouth filling with a thick liquid. You hunched over the sink and let the contents project out of you. At the corner of your lip a string of drool hung limply as you fully hunched over the sink. You stared at the content finding your dinner amongst the dark…dirt. Your senses felt sharper after expelling everything you had picking up on the sour scent of puke, soil and the metallic smell of iron.

Another wave of nausea and again your cheeks puffed wide, this was going to be worse than the last one. You heaved, throat burning impossibly, and your mouth stretched out a massive clot of dirt covered in gelatinous blood left you. Your shaky hand reached for the lever and you turned on the water to wash down the waste. You watched the brick mud swirl down the sink as you spat out the excess swirling in your mouth. You brought the sprayer closer to you and you washed out your mouth. You kept washing until your teeth wasn’t crunching on soil and your tongue didn’t taste iron. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, your hearing was muffled, but you stood back up.

You stood there under the kitchen lights, the TV  humming in the background and dirty dinner plates in the sink. The constant stream of water pouring was becoming clearing in your ears. You reached out and pushed the lever down cutting off the sound. You looked up through your lashes, but not focusing on anything specific.

Once more than night when you were showering you threw up again. Under your covers, fighting a headache, dizziness and a sore throat you made a decision. You flung off your blankets, sleep wouldn’t come to you anyways and began typing away on your laptop. You had to make haste, catalyze things even faster.

As you typed away, the hounds howled, snarling at what you could only imagine lurked in the tree line.

Only…imagine.

You handed in your resignation letter to work the next day with little to no explanation. You drove over to Kaya’s home immediately after, knocking on the door like a crazy woman. She answered the door already walking away as she left the door open for you. She called over her shoulder, “You’re earlier than I was expecting child.”

You shyly replied, honestly feeling groggy and jittery from no sleep, “I need all the lessons I can get.”

She smiled and led you up to her craft room. You tried helping her up the stairs but she swatted your hand away, “Child, I’ve lived alone for hundreds of years, I’m not that kind of old woman yet.”

You snickered, “I’m sorry Ms. Kaya.”

“It’s Kaya, child. Again, I’m not that kind of old yet.”

Your cheeks were hurting holding in the laughter, “Sorry, sorry.”

You couldn’t see it, but a smile was on her face as you followed her up the stairs into her craft room. She ran her hand across her work space then knocked thrice for good luck, “Prepare yourself Y/n.”

You shook your head like a bobble head, exhausted but eager, “Ready.”

Kaya wasn’t kidding when she said save the tears for later. You spent mornings until the evening at Kaya’s building the basics. She made you read and memorize what things were before you even thought about casting spells. She was surprised because you picked up all the techniques fast, faster than she ever did and memorized things with easy recall. By the end of the first week she casually suggested to finally start with actual casting.

She knocked on the table three times before she hung a hand in the air, “This is the standard position, now repeat after me and hold it until I say so.”

You held your hands up and after a few minutes your triceps were burning, “Kayyyaaaaa, how much longer?”

She smacked the underside of your elbows when you started slacking, “A Witch must have strength in their arms.”

You blinked hard at the pain trying to will it away. She finally let you release it and you heaved dramatically feeling an onset dead arm syndrome kick in. “Hmmm, you’re no match for Celina if that is too much for you.”

You turned dramatically, feeling insulted, narrowing your eyes like a feline. You wanted to prove Kaya, to yourself, you were worthy. You posited yourself in standard again, “Let’s keep going!” You challenged her word, and she responded with a soft good then three knocks.

Hours went by, you were getting familiar with casting positions and awakening muscle groups you’ve never knew existed. You could feel the reserves in your body, the same fire in your veins begging to be casted. Progress was being made.

Namjoon found himself eating leftovers for dinner because you were never home for dinner lately. He would place your plate in the microwave to keep it warm. He often would scrap it into the bin after hours of waiting. He began watching Family Feud on his own too, but it wasn’t the same. You weren’t there to compete or make the show as interesting as it normally was. There was too much blanket, too much couch space, too much popcorn in the bowl. He hated not tugging the blanket off you slowly just to bug you.

When you did come home late exhausted, dark circles were beginning to weigh heavy under your eyes. He’d ask about it, but you’d wave it off, “It just that time of the year where work is heavy.”

He…missed you.

Three weeks into training and you were learning spoken spells, finally casting. You held your arms up with a wand in your hand, you were trying to focus your energy into the conductor.

She instructed as she paced around you, “Stronger Y/n! Pour your energy into it!”

A wave of nausea overcame you. It was becoming more frequent and was becoming a normalcy. You held it in and quietly burped it away. The feeling wouldn’t settle and you knew what coming. You dropped your wand and booked it towards the restroom.

Kaya yelled hearing your feet thud on the wooden floor, “Y/n! Where are you going, you can’t just quit!”

You stumbled, running into the banister before you sharp turned into the bathroom. You flipped up the toilet seat and began unleashing. Kaya came running behind you with a hand on the doorframe. She heard the wrenching coming from you. She carefully touched along the doorframe and counter coming closer to you, “Y/n, what’s wrong?”

She rubbed your back sympathetically. When you pulled up, she caught the scent of your puke. She covered her nose with her hand and made a sound of disgust. You flushed the toilet, embarrassment taking over.

It took her a moment, but she recognized that scent: the soil of the dead.

She asked upfront, “How often?”

You wiped at the edge of your mouth slumping onto the cold tiles, “At least twice a day.”

She sighed heavily and helped you up and quietly cleaned you up, “This is something a special potion can help ease.”

She walked you back into her lab and brewed “the potion” in her cauldron. She ladled some tea out of the cauldron into a funky tea cup then handed it to you. The more time you spent with Kaya the more you realized that tea was her cure all, “It won’t stop it, but at least it’ll settle your soul.”

She poured her own tea and sat across from you. “Celina…was my sister.”

You we’re still lightly coughing, “What!”

She ran her fingers over the rim of her tea cup. Your eyes flickered down noticing the tea in her cup swirled painting the images flowing within her mind. Hypnotically you watched as the hazy image took resolution of a familiar woman, Kaya, but she was significantly younger, everything about her was so different especially her eyes. Her eyes were a deep brown that resembled the sweetest basset hound. She’s in this home, in her kitchen sipping tea at the same teal table. The front door busted open and slammed shut, clacking of heavy shoes echoed into the kitchen and out of the shadows a cloaked figure ran into the kitchen. The figure unveiled themselves pulling down the hood revealing a woman underneath. She frantically grabbed Kaya’s hands, “Kaya, they’re coming for me! We have to leave! They’re coming for me.”

Kaya pulled the woman down to sit in a seat across from her, panic painted on her face, “No Celina, what do you mean? Who’s coming for you?”

“The council! They’re going to hang me, they found out!”

Kaya was panicked, “What did they find out!”

Celina let go of her sister’s hands, embarrassed, “That I’ve been practicing the dark arts.”

Kaya spat, “You what!”

Celina began to toil with anger, “You know I am capable than more than they allow us!”

“Its illegal for a reason Celina!”

“You don’t get it Kaya! They’re going to come for the whole family, including you! They think your involved too!”

Kaya spat, “You’ve gotten us all involved! Now you think I’m stupid to do such a thing and follow you?”

Celina grew furious, “I know I was stupid, but come with me then!”

“My son, I can’t leave my son!”

Celina grew furious, “Take him too!”

Kaya smacked her hand off her, “No Celina, I don’t think you understand. I’m not guilty of whatever you were involved in. I can’t come with you!”

Celina grew furious, “You’ve never trusted me!”

“You put this upon yourself!”

Celina’s eyes glowed red as she lifted her hands up, and dishes levitated along with her, “I’ll make you then!” With her outburst dishes flew across the room towards Kaya, who ducked and found cover under the table. Kaya popped up and sent a spell towards Celina striking her. A magical fight broke out, it was like a battle between two martial artists, but lightening sparked between the two of them.

Kaya’s back slammed into the wall as her sister took a cheap shot. blood was streaming down Kaya’s face where the jinx had scathed her. Celina’s took a step forward cracking a plate under her shoe, “You’ve always been greedy sister, always in the top spot. I’ve never been able to beat you. It’s always been you!”

A boy, barely the age of ten, came into the room rubbing his eyes, “Mommy?”

Kaya’s eyes grew comically she wiped her towards the voice, “Mallory, go back to your room!”

Kaya’s son screamed, “Mommy!”

Celina smirked, “I’m going to show you true greed. You’re going to pay for all the years you’ve belittled me.”

Celina turned around and raised her hands, “Then you can’t remember me or any of this. I will erase everything.”

Kaya screamed out, “No! Celina! NO!”

Celina chanted, “Conspectum auferat, auferre memoriae, eam omnia!” A hot red bolt charged out of her and hit her nephew. Mallory screamed, and his eyes glazed over into a cataract resemblance. His head began to transform to that of a bore and his limbs lost their small stature as he began to grow into a monstrous size. He screamed as his body grew, bones extending, and he stretched out the doorframe. He thrashed about hands clutching his face, roaring in pain.

Kaya screamed, “Stop Celina!” Kaya jumped in front of her sister into the stream of magic and was struck with the spell. Kaya’s eyes lost their brilliant blue and faded into pearls, the eyes you were used to seeing. Celina tried catching her but had a loose grip on her sister’s wrist. Celina’s nails scratched over the witch’s tattoo over her wrist causing Kaya to scream even louder. Kaya screamed as she lost her sight covering her eyes. From here the memories go dark, there is only audio that rings in your ears.

“You got what you deserved,” footsteps were clattering, heavy thudding and glass breaking filling your ears, but distinctly clacking of heavy shoes echoed away until it ceased with a slamming of a door.

A black smoke began to fill the tea and eventually it was back to regular Green tea and you could only see the cracked bottom of the ceramic cup.

You didn’t realize tears were streaming down your face. You recognized the beast, it was Kaya’s son, Exadus Animae was her son.

“My sister and I were always competitive, but she took it to heart. She felt like she was less than because our parents doted on me more because I was the oldest, I had responsibility. I never wanted her to feel that way. I always made sure she was loved just as much, but it wasn’t enough. I never knew she would take it…that far.”

You can feel it in yours, this has squeezed at her heart for centuries. “I want to stop my sister. I want to put an end to her evil.” She grabbed your hand, “Child with the potential you have, you are the only one that can do it. You’re the one that can bring her down. You have the potential to become a greater witch than myself and her.”

You let the tears stream down and squeezed her hands back. “I’m sorry,” those were the only words you could get out.

There was so much you had to learn.

He hated going to places like this, but this was where evil crept freely. He made his way through the crowd; the strobing lights were blinding and the music numbing. He hated the smell of this place especially, it smelled like sorrow and sour loneliness. A succubus crashed into him swaying on her heels, she grabbed onto his arm as she pressed her chest up to him. She shouted at him over the music, “Hmmm, what is a Reaper doing in this part of town?”

He played into her trick, “Has Celina been around?”

She pouted, “Why are you talking about that Witch when I’m here?”

He trailed a delicate finger down her cheek, “Baby girl I’m asking a question, Have you?”

The succubus shivered loving the attention and nickname. She stood back up obediently with a thoughtful face, “No, but her recent play thing is here.” She pointed across the room through the swaying salacious bodies to the back of the club where a man with about five women hanging off him was tucked in a booth. He easily spotted the demon being nearly the tallest being there. Demons and their desires.

He shoved her off, “Thanks.”

She scoffed, “Hey!”

He couldn’t hear her protest anymore as he pushed through the crowd and came up to the booth. When the nymphs caught on to Namjoon they gasped and filtered out of the booth like roaches, “Hey, hey, ladddiesss!”

Namjoon growled, “Where is she?”

The playboy flipped hair out of his face and shrugged as he took a shot. “I’ve slept with many, who are you talking about?”

Namjoon didn’t humor the demon with a response.

“Don’t tell me I’ve slept with your bitch?”

Namjoon grew frustrated, “Where’s Celina?”

The demon shrugged again swirling his empty shot glass, “Don’t know.”

Namjoon grabbed the collar of the guy and dragged him outside through a side exit door into an alley. He shoved the demon up to the brick wall, “You’re going to tell me where she is.”

“And what, what are you going to give me if I do?”

Namjoon held out his hand, “Flax.” His scythe appeared in his hand and he shoved it under the guys jaw. “Nothing, you get nothing, but you get to live. I could feed you to Edax as I slice you up and feed you to him piece by piece.”

Panic filtered in the eyes as his eyes flickered between the scythe and him. “You’re the R-R-R-Reaper? “

The guy flipped the switched in a second the cocky smirk returning, “You can’t, that’s against Satera.”

Namjoon pushed the scythe harder into the guys jaw, “Watch me.”

The guy gulped, “Okay, okay, chill bro!”

“WHERE!”

“I last saw her here about a week ago. She looked really desperate, like sickly dude. I swear she was like fallin’ apart or some shit. I was gonna approach her but she already had another dude she was smashing faces with, then they disappeared.”

Namjoon kept his eyes locked on the guy waiting for more information. The guy squinted his eyes trying to think of more information, “Ugh-ugh, oh! Oh! What was weird was she smelled like cemetery soil, like strongly.”

Namjoon’s eyes narrowed, “Like…dirt?”

The guy nodded frantically. “That’s all I know. Let me go!”

Namjoon released the guys collar, droping the guy to the floor like a rag doll. The guy scurried to his feet, slipping a few times, then ran for it. He made one last comment over his shoulder, “Your crazy man!”

Namjoon stood there in the alleyway in the sickly yellow flood light over him. His dress shoes chuffing the tarmac of the alley. He watches as the demon slips away.

One year, he was supposed to have a year. A Lich’s corpse last a year before decomposition is too much and the animation disapparates. She needed new flesh, soon, and consuming raw meat in the mean time wasn’t going to hold her over much longer. Celina was putting herself out in the open more, her real self. He looked at his reflection in his scythe. Time was running out.

Black smoke cradled around him and he vanished into thin air. He manifested in the entryway and caught the edge of your feet as you were ascending the staircase. “Y/N?”

You stopped mid-step and turned towards him. In a tired voice, “Welcome home Joon.” He noticed the dark circles under your eyes have become heavier. “There’s leftovers in the fridge for you, make sure to heat them up if you’re hungry.”

He nodded, “Are you going to sleep?”

You nodded in return, “I’ve had a long day.”

He felt something crawling up his throat. “You don’t want to watch TV on the couch until you fall asleep? I swear I won’t hog the blanket, I swear.”

A small smile creeped onto your face, “No, not today Joon. Tomorrow maybe, okay?”

He sadly nodded, and you turned around making your way back up the stairs.

Your scent finally registered, he was so used to coming home to a twisted sell of delicate scents, but that daunting smell hit him like a cold shower. He smelled it thickly in the air, in fact it feels like it’s taken over the house, Cemetery dirt, soil tainted by death. Its leaking from you.

His long legs took the stairs two by two and he grabbed onto your upper arm, “What’s wrong y/n?”

You both stood still for a moment, then you turned around gently and thunked your head on his shoulder. He pulled you into his arms wrapping them tightly around your waist, “What’s wrong?”

Honest words hanging on the edge of your tongue, “I’m just tired.”

He didn’t believe you, you smelled otherwise, he’s smelled it from you before. He thought back to the demon’s words: soil. Celina smelled like soil. He tried an alternative, “You sure you don’t want to watch some TV?”

You shook your head wrapping your arms around him, “I just want to sleep.” You squeezed him once then let go, leaving a lasting touch on his arm before you turned around

He called your name as you were halfway up, words hanging on the tip of his tongue but couldn’t actualize. He swallowed it, because honestly, he didn’t know. He didn’t know how much time you had left. How long it was before everything came crashing down. It could be in the next second, or tomorrow. “Good night.”

You whispered back, “Good night, Joon.”

He watched as you disappeared around the corner, your hand being the last glimpse as it held onto the banister. He felt in his gut. Celina was on the move and moving fast. That dirt…you smelled like it. He was extremely worried, but you were being stubborn about letting him in. Just as he was, but only telling you would worry you. He needed to be around more, if the connection between you both was getting stronger he needed to be by your side. The hound he had secretly tagging along with you when you left the house wasn’t enough anymore. You didn’t have to know though, he could be your shadow.

He went to your work to check up on you, he even bought a coffee to leave on your desk secretly. However, you weren’t there, you weren’t even in their system anymore. He grew worried, then angry the longer he looked for you. Your car wasn’t even in the parking lot. He went to the roof and called upon his scythe. He let blackness cloud his eyes as he commanded, “Ostende mihi Y/n”. He sliced through the air creating a portal for himself. He looked into the vortex and saw you in a familiar setting that you didn’t belong in. He watched as your hands stretched out and you were chanting out…incantations! His jaw dropped then clenched hard. You had been going behind his back! He saw blue glowing from your hands and that’s when he dropped your coffee and charged through the portal.

“Wands are training wheels for the hands, as you get more practice you won’t need a conductor for your major and instead you will be able to conjure it from your hands.” She took the wand out of your hand and set it on the table, “Try it, try it with your hands.”

“I-I don’t think I’m ready.”

“Trust me child.” She turned you to the windowsill. “See, focus on that potted plant…now levitate it, this should be easy.”

You breathed in heavily and pointed your hands at it, “Volarsa”

The pot remained still. You tried it again with a different tone, but it didn’t levitate. You turned toward Kaya with a pout, you weren’t sure about this working without a wand. She knocked three times then clasped her hands behind her back, “Be patient, it will work.”

You turned back towards the pot and kept repeating the spell. Hours had passed by and sweat was running down your temple until you taste salt in the corner of your mouth. You wiped it away and licked your lips, you had gotten the pot to vibrate. You were so close. You just needed something, a push, you let your thoughts wander about the people’s life on the line, yours, Kaya’s…and Namjoon’s.

“Volarsa!” You shouted at the pot concentrating on the object. You held up your trembling hands and it vibrated intensely as before, you slowly started lifting your hands from the wrist. The pot oscilated on the spot then finally…it started lifting. You broke a smile and kept your hands strict forcing the pot to rise. It was heavy, heavier than lifting a pot without magic and lifted off he clay pigeon until it was floating in the air. “KAYA! KAYA, I DID IT! I did it!”

A dark cloud of smoke rolled in constructing itself into a shadow, but you were too submerged in your happiness to notice. “Did what exactly Y/n?”

You jumped, hands losing their concentration as you released the spell and the pot came crashing down. You abruptly faced the Reaper, “Namjoon!”

“You lied to me! I told you not to do this.” He stomped right up to you.

You stuttered taking a few steps back, “I-I-I.” You clasped your hand behind your back as if they were the guilty culprits.

“Why are you practicing!”

Kaya came around the corner with an extra mug, “Hello, Darling, its been a while.”

The black smoke rolling around him cut off, his eyes widening, “Kaya?”

She put the mug in his hand, with a flick of her wrist she commanded the broom and dust pan to do their job. “Sit down and watch, well discuss it later; you just ruined something big.”

“She’s practicing witchcra—!”

She whipped around, “I said, sit down.”

He obeyed tucking his tail between his legs but grumbled the whole time. She beckoned you to continue, “Go ahead Y/n, try it again on the Saffron.”

You eyed Namjoon with hesitation, but you turned towards the flowers. You had to prove yourself worthy. This was your chance to show Namjoon you could do this. You had to be the one to put an end to this with Namjoon.

You breathed in a deep breath letting the oxygen saturate your blood fully with a breath laced with confidence. You wiped your brow of sweat and held out your hands, shaking out the nerves a few times, then place them in a commanding stance. You closed your eyes and sprung your hard rimmed eyes open as you casted with confidence, “VOLARSA!”

The Saffron pot jerked about, oscillating in its spot like the last time. You kept focus on it then raised your hands slowly and with a bit of delay the pot raised from the pigeon into the air. You held it there for a moment then lowered it down safely finally taking a breath again. You heaved and turned with a smile on your face and Kaya smiled back at you once she heard the clinking clay.

Namjoon rolled his eyes, “She can lift a pot, so what? How’s that going to protect her from Celina?”

Kaya smiled and sipped from her tea with her eyebrows slightly raised. “You underestimate the important of lifting a pot. Don’t you remember how you started out with your scythe?”

He shut up real quick, turning away from her in his chair like a sulking child. “Child, you’ve done well. You’re ready for the heavier, unspoken spells.”

Namjoon spit out the tea he was bitterly sipping, “Now you’re pushing the importance!”

“Hush, Joon.” She shushed him by bringing her hand up and zipped his mouth shut. He grumbled behind his closed lips. You spat out laughing hard enough your eyes shut; you needed to learn that spell. She stood up and walked her way over to you, looking over her shoulder as she stood next to you, “Someone had to do it.”

The rest of the evening she moved on to different things and taught you other foundational spells and techniques. Namjoon’s mouth was sealed the whole evening, but you could feel the tension from him. He remained patient and watched you as you picked up things easily. He was impressed, but he was afraid. The potential energy and magic that you have in your amateur hands could be dangerous. He was worried…because of whom your source of magic was coming from.

What if you turned out like her?

Kaya tapped your shoulder, “That’s enough for today.”

You sat at the work table with Joon, reluctantly sitting down across from him. His eyes were squared on you with bitterness flowing towards you. Kaya sat down at the table with a steaming kettle pouring more tea into her cup and Namjoon’s, “Float a cup over for yourself.”

You looked across the room and pointed to a clean cup. You muttered under your breath and a cup levitated itself and clunked it onto the table right in front of you.

She unzipped him and as soon as his lips were free he couldn’t hold his tongue anymore, “Kaya! What if—what if she turns out to be like...!”

Kaya turned to him, “Her?”

He spat, “Exactly!”

“After all she’s done, haven’t we’ve been through enough. Y/n doesn’t deserve this.”

You look between them, feeling completely lost. Just how much didn’t you know? How did Namjoon know Kaya? You haven’t really pieced it together until now, why was she in his journal?

He sharply turned his attention to you, “How did you find this place?”

You stuttered out a thinning voice, “I-I.”

“I contacted her, I just felt Celina’s magic again and had to figure out if it was her, but instead I found Y/n.” You were surprised, Kaya stepped in to save you.

He looked at her with narrowed eyes, he wasn’t completely buying it. Under her breath barely audible to your ears, “The hound ’s loyal to their mistress not their master apparently.”

He turned to you to question further, but again Kaya stepped in to save you, “Calm down Namjoon, I can tell you that’s not what’s going to happen. I don’t see the same darkness in her that I saw in my sister. That won’t happen with Y/n.”

You blinked in shock, “How do you two know eachother?”

She casually grabbed onto both of your hands, “Revelata veritas occulta, monstrate memoriis vero Princeps.” In the next second you felt an energy surging through you, coursing through your heart then being. Your eyes blurred, swirling in a glowing green like Kaya’s. Namjoon watched on as you closed your eyes grunting, then they sprung open completely glowing blue.

He hissed at Kaya trying to release her hand, “What are you doing!”

Kaya remained patient, holding his hand tight, “Revealing the truth.”

In your ears their argument faded out. Behind your glowing eyes you were taken back, but this time you watched through Namjoon’s eyes.

Namjoon was acquainted with the sisters, as the witch community was tangled with the supernaturals. Everyone in the supernatural community knew of the witch sisters, the greatest witches of their generation. When Namjoon inherited the role of being Reaper, Kaya and Celina were the first ones to congratulate him. He grew close to the sisters, they were like real sisters to him; especially Kaya who helped him wield his scythe and even taught him some spells on the side.

Namjoon’s heart dropped when he received word to collect, to collect Celina’s soul. How had such a good person fallen?

His memory picked up right where Kaya’s had left off with Namjoon arriving in tragic timing. Celina had casted a spell over the house to cover her tracks. When he manifested in the hallway of Kaya’s home and the smoke faded, Kaya was already paralyzed, covering her eyes with her bloody hands. He ran over to her as she muttered out, “Mallory.”

He pulled her hands down from her eyes and gasped when he saw her pearly eyes, “Kaya, what happened?”

Kaya panted, feeling for him, “Namjoon! She—She!”

He heard thumping coming from the hallway. He stood in front of Kaya protectively against whatever was there. A large gangly figure popped out form the shadows wailing, “Mommy!”

Namjoon stood there, fear struck. Kaya screamed, “Celina, what have you done!”

Namjoon knew that the council would be coming soon since Celina had just been here. Kaya grabbed at his pant leg, “Please, Namjoon, protect my son!”

Namjoon didn’t have much choice, so he did the only think he could think of. He took out his scythe and with both hands he wrapped it around the staff and casted. Mallory began to be engulfed in black smoke. His similarly pearl eyes searched out his mother, he tried screaming for his mother, but it just came out as animalistic growls taking over his voice.

Namjoon took him to the only place he knew that would be safe, Limbo. He kept Mallory in a cave with a protective seal to keep anyone from entering, safe from the knowledge of supernaturals and other warlocks. He knew if the council found out what happened to Mallory there would be grave consequences.

He stayed with the child and would visit Kaya routinely. He knew he couldn’t fill the void of her son, but he was there for her like she was for him. He’d do anything for her.

They tried everything, every spell, hex, and art she knew to uplift the curse, but nothing worked. He helped her adjust, however, Kaya adapted quickly on her own.

Kaya persuaded Namjoon to let her see her child. Reluctantly he brought Kaya to see her son. She would hug her son and he would grunt out, no longer capable of speech while hugging his mother. He was still himself despite the curse. When she felt her son she’d began crying, she’d apologize and promised him she’d find a solution to revert him back. She was never going to give up, she worked herself to the bone, researching and testing lifting spells. However, no matter how great of a witch she was, no spell worked, the curse was too heavy. It was impossible to cure the curse.

Months passed by and Mallory began to forget his humanistic ways, slowly started becoming the monster he was cursed to be.  

Against Namjoon’s protest, he brought Kaya to see her son. He had seen the change happen, the growth of the beast, the greedy curse taking over the child’s soul. He couldn’t tell her, he wanted to fix this before she found out.

As they came into the cave, they found Mallory consuming a wandering soul. Kaya heard it all, the disgusting sounds and crunching of bone. Namjoon witness the horrific image of intestines being yanked from the corpse and it being grind it up in the boar’s jaw.

Namjoon panicked, “Kaya, you can’t see him today! Go back!”

She protested, she wanted to meet her son, not believing the sounds were from her precious child. He shouted the truth, “He’s not your son anymore, but a monster!”

Kaya remained silent, the truth weighing heavy on her after she’s been denying it for months, tears streamed down her face as she stood there listening to Namjoon stopping her gorging son—or at least he was.

He hated doing this, but he had to chain him up. He couldn’t let him wander about, it was too dangerous.

Soon enough Satera found out about the souls being consumed. She herself showed up in the cave to expel the behemoth herself. “Reaper, this being belongs in the pits! He is no Earthly creation!”

Namjoon stopped her and explained what had happened, how it was Celina’s evil doing, that there was a human being underneath. Her green glow about her died down and sympathy rang about her. She slowly walked towards the beast—Mallory—who growled in agitation. She hushed him and surprisingly he obeyed. She touched his forehead and her eyes swirled as she watched the whole story unravel in her eyes. She pulled away, sorrowfully petting his head a few times. She gave Namjoon a deal ,”I cannot break this curse, his soul has been nearly completely consumed. But if you can promise me that…that this Edax Animae can collect evil or wandering souls and you’d send the spirits to the pits, then he can remain on Earth.”

Namjoon agreed immediately, “Yes, yes, I can promise that.”

She raised her hand silencing him, “And…only if you watch over him, then he can remain.”

Namjoon told Kaya of the deal for hours she cried, guilt weighing heavy on her, but she was grateful. He could live.

Years went by, decades went by and the chase with Celina continued. Celina grew stronger and her craft immensely more potent. He would visit Kaya less and less because he had to take on other collections. Celina’s disturbances became fewer and she’d always escape his grasp in the nick of time. Before he knew it, he stopped visiting Kaya all together, but he kept his promise. He always watched over Mallory, even if he wasn’t Mallory anymore.

Time speed up from there in blurs, you saw fights, the sickly image of Celina before him in a forest, but with a different possession every other memory. Time swirled again, and it was her again but different each time they fought, but she’d get away.

Then there was you. You across the table from him, as he slid into the booth. You felt the smugness as he felt like had caught the mouse. Time warped to when you were brought to Edax, then all the nights you spent together eating dinner,  you saw the way he watched you as you were watching TV, or how you came in the door after work greeting him with a smile. It was blurs of the both of you, up until this very point, you sitting across from him.  

You gasped as you were pulled back into reality ripping you from the tar of memories. The glowing green began to fade from your eyes as you came to consciousness. You felt your limbs succumbing to a great fatigue as your legs lost control and you began slipping from your chair.

Namjoon let go of Kaya’s hand and caught you before you collapsed to the floor. “Kaya, this is too much for her! I told her she needs to stay out of this!”

You gasped and clutched onto his shirt, “Namjoon, I have to do this.”

He looked down at you, “No!”

You cupped his face smoothing the wrinkles building under his eyes, “Namjoon, I’m not Celina. I’m not her.”

Something you never expected caused your hand to halt. Tears were building in his eyes until a single tear slipped down his cheek, “I can’t lose you.”

You smiled, “You won’t, I promise. She’s not going to win. Trust me.”

He looked at you then to Kaya feeling the pressure from both of you, “Fine.”

Now that you were able to practice freely your skills were only growing at an exponential rate. Especially since you could practice at home out in the open. Crafting just felt so natural to you. You were going through spell books like water. Kaya put you through obstacles testing you on your skills and reflexes. That meant training became far more intense, pushing you to your breaking point every day. She made a pseudo room for you to cast spells and strike dummies.

You paced around the abysmal room, you could never see the walls in the room, you honestly didn’t know if there were any. You stood under a bright white spotlight waiting for your next target, and in front of you Celina manifested. You knew it wasn’t her, but a dummy. It looked so much like her, like the image you saw that night in your bathroom. Even though she was a dummy you knew not to let your discomfort show.

She opened her eyes, completely black and soulless. There was no banter exchanged, a blaze of green light aimed right for you. Two more jets of green light zoomed past you from the arthritic hands of Celina. You spewed hexes and spells back avoiding each of her strikes. This was fake, so it wouldn’t have a lasting strike if it did hit you, but still you avoided each strike.

Carelessly with that knowledge you faced her straight on and called out a spell that would knock her off her feet. She swerved and in the next blink she was in front of you, “You lose.” She brought her hands up and chanted out a curse, one you had passed by Kaya before in curiosity, but she narrowed her eyes completely upset, “Never, never, EVER, utter those words.”

The black eyes of Celina were all you could focus on as she was nearly nose to nose with you. You were paralyzed in fear, none of the other dummies had gotten this close to you. You didn’t dare blink, the next moment the body melted, bubbled and Namjoon was face to face to you. The same eyes remained, he hissed like a snake, “Internum Cuppedine.”

You screamed and for a moment you believed there were walls as you screamed loud enough that it bounced off the invisible walls. Loud, hot blindingly loud. The pain was consuming as you dropped to your knees in front of Namjoon, whole body quivering. He walked around you, a smirk form on his face, “I will watch you die in the most painful way.”

This wasn’t real, this wasn’t supposed to be real, but why was the pain so real. Namjoon would never do this too you. This wasn’t happened. You struggled trying to break, but the more you struggled the more painful it was.

“It will be my uptmost pleasure.” He raised his hand up slowly, body morphing back to Celina’s figure, you levitating with it. You dangled in the air twitching as the curse caused you to spasm. He clenched his hand, you feel the pressure around your throat. It’s so much, so much. With a finally squeeze of her hand everything goes dark.

You wake up gasping for air on the floor of Kaya’s craft room. The roaring fire, the cracking of the wood in the mantle alerting you you’re back in the real world. Was this real? Was that all fake? You lifted up sitting on your side coughing. You grabbed at your throat where you felt the phantom feeling of the grasp. You felt a drop on your hand, you pulled away and a drop of blood was on your hand. You raised it and checked your nose. Your nose was bleeding.

Was that just a dummy?

You didn’t tell Kaya or Joon what had happened in the training room. The crackling fire burning in the mantle casted long shadows over the room, so you relied on the candle next to you to illuminate the words on the book you were reading. Kaya had gone to sleep a while ago, you sat there intently listening for the snores to begin. When you were sure she was asleep you slipped off your stool and ventured over to the library. Stealthily you avoided the creaky wood planks as you tip toed over to a bookcase. You trailed over books that you’ve been eyeing for a while, the forbidden ones. Kaya had warned you against them, you didn’t need to know those spells.

You thought different, the more ignorant you were to this stuff the more vulnerable you were. You needed to know what the animation had said to you.

You pulled out a nameless black book and snuck it back to the table. You pushed away the book you were “studying” and placed the new book in front of you. It felt different, it was a thin book, but it weighed as heavy as a science textbook. You tried opening the book, but it refused to open. Knowing Kaya it must’ve been hexed closed.

You thought back to all the things you had learned, sourcing through all the spells you knew. You were going to try something you didn’t know would work, but you’d try. Holding your hand over the book you whispered out, “Abracadabra.”

Nothing happened, you were expecting something a bit more dramatic. Maybe a puff of smoke or like a comical soul arising, but nothing.

You reached for the cover and it pulled back and it opened. The binding creaking with the new book sound, but you knew this book was far from being young. Gothic text etched in the center entailed “Book of Dreadful Curses.”

Your body felt giddy, you were actually going through with this. You flipped the coffee colored pages that were fragile, each page had entries that were handwritten with depictions every so often. This seemed more like a lab book than a dictionary for curses. The description for these curses were horrible promises of unescapable torture, pain and lunacy. You read over a few: Martyium promised self-sacrifice but not with the will of the cursed; Impotente promised lunacy; Dissolvo promised decomposition. You scrolled through pages, each page more interesting than the last. However, you didn’t dare to repeat aloud, only allowing them to hiss in your mind, you had that much sense.

You opened this book for one specific curse, Internum Cuppedine. You flipped through the pages and soon enough the pages were blank. The journal entries had ended abruptly. You kept flipping though and you nearly scanned past it but on a single page two lone spells were written, but one specific one caught your eye: Internum Cuppedine.

Internum Cuppedine: Level IX, extreme malice and intention to harm. A torture spell that causes sensation similar to burning from the inside out, asphyxiation, violent trembling and loss of physical control. Results from curse causes permanent damage and if continuous, death.

Shuffling came from the door, Kaya groggily asking, “You’re still here child?” You closed the book shut and propped your elbow on it, then with your elbow you brushed it under the other you were studying. Even though she couldn’t see, you still felt like a child caught with your hand in the cookie jar.

“Yeah-yeah, I just wanted to finish up this last chapter then go home.”

A smile bloomed on her face, “You worked hard enough, go home child. You’ll need the rest for tomorrow.

You nodded, “I will.” You began to pack up your stuff edging off the stool, “Good night Kaya.” Her figure disappeared down the hallway as she mumbled to you. You waited until the sound of her closing her door before you set down your bag. You were just going to read a bit more…just a bit more.

Just a bit more.

Namjoon would stop by and pick you up from Kaya’s because he knew if he didn’t come and get you you’d stay all night. Despite things being open, you’ve spent more time a part now that everything was on the table.

Besides throwing up, a new habit crawled its way into your routine. You started having nightmares every night since the dummy incident; Celina would always have the main role. The dreams would be vivid, but it was the same dream every night. You relieved the moment in the training room over and over again. Each night it would escalate, but it was the same environment. Celina’s dark figure would leave you paralyzed as she came towards you. She’d look you dead in the eyes and her lips would spread past her cheeks in a sinister smile. She violently thrusted her hand through your chest and ripped your heart out. She’d laugh and consume your heart like a morsel. She licked her fingers of your blood and with the same dirty hands she pushed you. You’d tip back unable to save yourself and you’d fall down into an endless grave.

Namjoon heard you screaming springing from his own bed and ran into your room. You were trashing under your covers, he sat down next to you shaking you awake, “Y/n! Y/n! Wake up!”

You sprung up violently sucking in air. When you noticed Namjoon was there beside you, you clutched onto him panting. He collected you into his arms holding the back of your head with one of his hands. You buried your head into his chest, he rubbed your back soothing you, “Shhhh, It’s okay. It’s okay.”

He’d lay you back down when your trembling stopped.  “Want me to stay with you until you fall asleep again?”

You nodded rapidly, “Please.”

He scooched you over and laid beside you, his body taking up a large portion of the bed. He pulled you into his chest petting your hair, “It’s okay, I’m here go back to sleep. I won’t leave.” You nodded against his chest, his scent bringing comfort to you. It took about half an hour until you fell back asleep. His naturally low, deep voice sung you to sleep.

To your ignorance he was chanting away the demons, casting a protection spell over your mind for the night. A sleep worm had made its way into your dreams. He held the back of your head as you fell fast asleep. He kept chanting, slowly pulling his hand away from your head and along with it the worm that had plagued your dream. He squished it in his hands and it sizzled in his grip. You sighed in relief when he pulled it out and you eased into his chest limply, truly asleep.

His eyes narrowed as he looked over you and into the shadows of your bedroom. It was your silhouette in the shadows, but it wasn’t you. He could only sigh and hold you close, there was no telling when, but there wasn’t much time left. He fell asleep with you cradled in his arms, he didn’t want to let you go.

In his arms, you were safe.

You didn’t want to fall asleep, it was hard distinguishing the sun and the moon lately. White bled into black and you were somewhere in Limbo. Kaya had gone to sleep long ago; teaching had worn her out despite you doing all the work. Namjoon was here earlier but left when he was summoned. You slipped on his blazer you had brought with you on accident today when a draft came over the room. It partially still smelled like him, mostly because he tried it on again today, “Sure it was an accident Y/n. You like me that much huh?”

You blushed furiously attacking him with the best come back you could think of, “You wish.”

Sitting alone you wrapped it tighter around yourself. You looked around, despite knowing you were alone, and pulled out from under your other book the Book of Dreadful Curses. You hated to admit it but you were drawn towards it. Who were the people that made such craft, and who were they after? You were just so curious.

In your ear you heard a moaning whisper, “Y/N.”

You turned around expecting Kaya in the doorway, but no one was there. Maybe Kaya and Joon were right, you have been overworking yourself to the point you were hearing things. You waited, maybe Kaya would appear a second later, but there was nothing. You went back to flipping the pages and felt a chill down your spine as another barely audible whisper tickled your ear, “Y/N.”

The lights above you flickered, and the omnipresent voice cackled. The hair on the back of your neck raised as the roaring fire in the fireplace suddenly extinguishing. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, it was dead silent. You were waiting, waiting in anticipation.

A struck of lightening jetted passed you striking the pit of embers reigniting the roaring flame, a flame so big that it licked your spine. You screamed at the intense heat and in shimmer of mist a figure before you manifested.

It was Celina.

You stumbled backwards, hitting the wall knocking down picture frames and crystals. One look at her and you could tell why she was here though, the once gorgeous woman was wilting away. Her flesh was rotting away in some spots as ghastly purple and grey chunks were missing; Streaming down her barely fitting dress was mud, you recognized that dress, it was the dress.

Celina trailed around the table with an awkward gait, “I told you you’d know my name when the time comes.” She smirked dropping a potion bottle on the floor and crunching the glass with her bare feet. “It’s our day darling!” The lights flickered manically as she raised her both her hands, fingers stretched outwards with the tips burning red.

A bolt of magic zoomed past your head and hit just near Celina’s head. The lights stabled. You turned, and Kaya was behind you with her hands raised, “Celina!”

Celina stumbled, “Sister, I thought you died a long time ago.”

Kaya scoffed, “You underestimate me.”

Celina huffed, “I won’t miss this time.”

Celina extended her arm and fired bolts towards the both of you. The crackling magic destroyed the shelf behind us and all Kaya’s tea cups fell to the floor. Kaya pushed you behind her and you both managed to fire back at her. Celina sensed the magic before the strikes and dodged them easily. You’ve never seen this before, Kaya was wielding beyond your comprehension. A rally of blue and red bolts soared across the room. You were dragged to hide under a desk along with Kaya, “Child, run, run while you can. I’ll take care of her.”

You shook your head, “No, I’m staying here and fighting with you. This is my battle as much as it is yours.”

“You’re not ready child! Run!” Kaya grunted, red flames roared above us as Celina grew frustrated.

“Come on out Kaya, you’re not a coward to hide. Come and fight me once and for all! Let’s end this!”

You couldn’t let Kaya get hurt, you’ve worked hard for this moment. This was it. “No, I’m ready,” you punctuated. You took the risk and stood up on your own. You raised your hand and fired out a spell at Celina. A charged spell shot out from your hands at her.

She dodged it and laughed, a hearty laugh, “Oh-ho-ho, Look at you my pretty! A witch in the making! Oh, how great it will be when I take over you. A perfect vessel, perfect blood.”

You fell right into her trap and she chanted, then a pulsing neon purple cloud consumed the both of you. Kaya gripped onto your hand, “NO, Y/N!” Her grip on you disappeared and you were consumed in opaque purple. A wave of nausea hit you that you were now familiar with. You came to in a dense fog feeling the cold breath of life resurge through you again. You knew this place, you knew it very well—Limbo, the edge of hell, where Namjoon first took you.

You whispered out his name out of habit, “Namjoon.”

“It’s just you and I,” the sick cackling echoed throughout the clearing. The silhouetted figures stopped their roaming as if Satan had called upon them and ran from the site. Celina’s red glow fired up and shot towards you, “Mine!”

You lifted your hands and chanted dangerous spells under your breath trying to keep up with her razor-sharp fast attacks. Her body may be decaying but her mind was sharp. It was hard to tell where the next strike would come from because of the fog. You ran behind a tree catching your breath, as quietly as you could you knocked on the tree three times. You could hear her footsteps approaching and on instincts you bolted from your safety. The next second the tree you were hiding behind cracked in half catching fire.

You ran out into the clearing and fired green jets at her with no sense of direction. She whirled around and flicked her wrist manically as she growled.

In the center of us a cloud of black smoke manifested and from it emerged Kaya and Namjoon. Kaya put up a protective shield around the both of them and ultimately you. Celina’s bolt crashed against the shield like tsunami wave crashing on a boulder.

Kaya turned her hands like a wheel and used that energy and shouted, “Praesidio!” The magical wave reversed itself and turned it back on the caster.

Namjoon sprinted towards you, “Y/n!” You ran up to him wrapping your arms tightly around him, you just needed that moment. You broke the embrace when Celina roared, and fireworks flared between Celina and Kaya.

Celina protected herself from the returning wave by casting her own shield.  She grew frustrated, “SURGERIMUS!” From the ground hands popped up like daisies, soon enough skulls and fifty some full bodies rose. Their bodies were devoid of skin with insects who’ve burrowed themselves in cavities. It was an uproar as the swarming corpses stampeded their way towards us with loud war cries. The three of you equally regarded them charging forward into the mess. In a single swipe you shattered the center of a corpse with its limbs exploding towards all directions. Namjoon moved his scythe about with brutal strength, twirling past extended jaws lunging to bite severing heads off cleanly. Kaya strikes with palm open knocking down two at a time.

She turned around confronted with Celina no less than a few feet away, “Hello Sister.”

Celina growled firing spells, cold hatred behind each venomous strike. She was sending incantations, smiting with all she had. Kaya used her instincts to her advantage, a century of development with her impairment. She swayed and slashed her magic as jets of light flew from both of them. From under them the fog diminished seeing the forest floor for the first time. The ground below them shimmering as dangerous spells fireworked around their feet. The two witches were battling for blood, for the kill.

“Oh, Kaya you can’t protect her, just like you couldn’t protect your son.”

“DON’T SPEAK OF HIM THAT WAY!” Soaring bolts still progress back and forth like a tennis rally. “You will never touch my children again!” screamed Kaya.

A side of Celina’s lips raised, “Think again.”

It happened so fast. Suddenly Kaya was lifted off the floor floating in the air, an invisible force wrapping around her neck and squeezing tight. “It’s ironic, the one who wrote the Book of Dreadful Curses is going to experience it firsthand.” Kaya’s eyes bulged as Celina’s cursed the worst forbidden curse, “Silento.” The curse wrapped around Kaya and in one movement Kaya’s neck jerked abstractly.

"Kaya…Kaya...," you stupidly repeated watching as her body falls to the ground in a single thud. You felt something in you falling, something you'd never get back. Three corpses try suffocating you, but you scream out a smite that sends the three of them soring.

Namjoon takes advantage of the opening and charges at Celina, his anger taking over his actions. He dug the stem of his scythe into the ground and used it to lunge across corpses to land in front of her. He growls as he raises from his squat, “HOW COULD YOU!”  

You slaughter any corpses in your path as you walk like Moses as your hands work without turning away from Kaya. Bones, flesh and fluids coat you and fly in front of you but you pay it no attention. You yell out, “Praesido,” casting a shield over the both of you as you fall to your knees next to her. You pick her up carefully, you don’t want to hurt her any further. You scoot her up onto your lap, you touch her face and caress trying something, “Kaya, come back, you can’t, you can’t leave me.” You continue to caress her head, “NO, NO, NO, NO!”

She was gone.

Namjoon charged towards Celina, efficiently cutting her magic as it deflected off his scythe. He readied himself and charged at her again and again no resting between his blows. Crossing of blue hell flame from the scythe and crimson magic from Celina collided illuminations. They collided her magnificent jets holding back Namjoon’s scythe, their flames blending at the collision point a vibrant violet. They were matched in power, but there was no love in war.

Namjoon screamed, “I will collect you Celina!”

Celina cackled, “Never!”

Her power surged causing an explosion between them, Namjoon was sent flying from the impact and he crashed against a tree with a thud. From the ground hundreds of hands began clawing around him. He screamed reaching his hand out of the mound that gathered around him. They buried him underneath the soil.

“NAMJOON!” From your protective shield as you held Kaya in your arms, you screamed until your throat was raw. You crouched over Kaya body tears streaming down your face, you wiped away the tears as Celina staggered towards you. Her body was falling apart as her hourglass was running out. She needed to change, she needed a new body, she needed you.

You don’t know where this strength stemmed from, but you raised from the ground. “I’m sorry Kaya.” You weren’t the same Y/n you were when you first encountered Celina. You were going to use everything of hers against her. Hands buzzed on their own accord, like some magnet, a burning emerald fire crackled on your hands. You had summoned a raging strength from deep within you. Your hands lit up and the flames of magical ombre emerald washed up to your elbows. You marched without breaking pace through your protective shield as if it was invisible. Wind swirled around you your hair whipping around you and Namjoon’s blazer rustling about.

This cycle had to stop.

Chaos ensued moments later, bolts of energy cut through the dense fog. “CELINA!” You mow through the animations who came rushing at you.

Celina shouted, “I shall have your life!”

Your power pulsed through you, it was like a second skin guiding you in the chaos.  You stomped your foot into the dense soil concentrating magic in your foot to shower her in dust. You took the opening chance to get closer to her and attack close range. You strike her chest hearing a crack then grabbed onto her arm. When you touch all the sudden both your eyes glow green. The both of you stop, the animations stop as well, eyes glowing green.

Blurs of her life past before your eyes, as you watched her and Kaya as children running through their childhood home, the same one Kaya took residence in. You watched Kaya protect Celina from bullies, but from that Celina grew furious, ‘I can protect myself’

As a teenager she pushed Kaya away. She watched her Sister being doted on by her parents, by her peers, praised by anyone and everyone. There she was, alone. You watch as she sneaks into her sister’s room and steals a black leather book, the Book of Dreadful Curses. She flipped through the book it was only full of small spells at the time. A dreadful smirk curves on Celina’s face, she had dirt on her sister. She confronted their parents about Kaya’s book, feeling finally she had dirt on her perfect sister. Yet, they didn’t believe it was Kaya’s at all, but Celina’s book. Celina’s felt betrayed and resented her sister as Kaya let Celina take all the blame.

The memory whirl pooled jumping in time where Celina was a young adult. She was in the forest with a man double her age. The man she seduced was ignorant to her eyes open as they kiss. She took a knife and stabbed the man. She placed him in a circle and chanted, wicking up candles as she performed. The man rose like nothing had happened, but his eyes are completely black. She panicked, panicked because she never thought she could do it. She murders the man once more and buries him somewhere. The cycle continues with different men and women. She writes more in the book who was mistakenly hers, she develops the curses as she practices them.

You watch as she’s brought before the Hecate council, on her knees. They found out she was performing curses and had murdered a mortal. They were punishing her when she erupted, filling the room with black smoke and escaped. She ran off to the only place she knew, home. She ran into the house, up the stairs and into the kitchen where her sister was sipping tea. “Kaya, they’re coming for me! We have to leave! They’re coming for me.”

Kaya doesn’t handle the news well. Celina does the only thing she knows, she lifted her arms and recites something from the book she created.

She regrets it as soon as it happens trying to undo the curse, but there’s no turning back. She leaves the book and disappears. Leaving all trace of her family and her older self behind.

Celina lives everywhere and anywhere sucking the life out of others, the longer she spent practicing the Dark Arts the harder she fell.

The undead aspect of it began to consume her as you watched as she looked in the mirror and she was but a skeleton. She was wearing that dress, the dress, as she woke from a new reanimation. You watch her crawl out of the soil and walk through a forest. She cracks her neck and smirks.

You knew what happened from there…you were next.

 The bond was broken and the corpses collapsed to the floor with nothing left in them. You don’t let a second blip by and you were acting.

Celina growled out, shock flitting across her face, “WHAT DID YOU JUST DO?”

You chanted out something you promised you would never use, but rules are meant to be broken. You roared out a curse, “ABSCINDERE!” Your hand glowed a violent light and for a moment you felt light headed and a blinding light surged from your hand. A guttural scream followed and Celina stumbled backwards. Her arm severed off where your hand was on her upper arm. Your eyes bulged, you didn’t think that would work. You were panting hard, you felt a surging pain in your own arm where you had taken hers. You wanted to scream in pain, but you held it back.

She screamed at you, “YOU BITCH!!”

“Kaya will always be better than you, a better Witch!” Your winced in a moment of weakness, your arm really hurt.

“She was weak, she believed in love and all that other bullshit. Just like you, and that makes you weak.” The remnants of the dress on her body taunted you as well. Spitting in your face for your foolish choice, but you weren’t going to grasp at those threads. You were going to weave your own thread, not a resurgent’s.

“Do you not understand? Do you truly not understand what you’ve done? She never wrote that book for what you did with it, it was meant to lock them away forever.” You sucked in a deep breath, “DO YOU HAVE NO REMORSE KILLING KAYA!”

You tried looking for the tremble or shift in her eyes, but there was none. She truly meant it. “You defend her still when she’s already dead. No, I do not, I’d do it all over again.”

The threads were weaved and she was wrapped in her sin.

Celina grew impatient with the banter, “Kaya is dead, and so will you be!”

At the same time you both muttered out a spell meeting in the center between the both of you with an explosive reaction. You kept your hand stretched out strong just like hers as you both projected towards one another. You were in a gridlock as the spell in the center of you swirled about fiery red mixing with emerald.

You didn’t expect it, but hands popped up form the soil and grabbed at your ankles dragging you down. It was a cheap shot. The hands clasped around you, beginning to bury your feet causing you to lose your balance. Her spell hit you with full force, but the hands kept you grounded. You screamed as it burned and fell to your knees.

You struggled to raise yourself, something hot and dense dripping off your jaw cascading down the side of your face.

Celina began murmuring words that sounded like a thousand words whispering in your ears. You covered your ears trying to cancel them out but they only got louder. Fear surged through you as you began to feel weaker and weaker. The murmurs began to register in your mind, “Internum Cuppedine.”

She had control of your being. You felt a shift in the flow of your blood going against the gradient. She laughed manically contorting her hand stiffly, “Your blood is my blood sweetie. I’m going to claim what is mine now.”

She picked up her severed arm and you horrifically watched as it began to mend itself back to her torso. She kept whispering out her curse and she held out her hand and a knife conjured. The gunmetal blade was raised in the air and black flames began to engulf the blade. She clenched her hand around the blade and swiftly cut her palm covering it in her own thick blood.

“You are mine!” She flicked her wrist and your back bent backwards displaying your chest openly. You stared at the moonless sky, grey clouding your vision. You couldn’t do anything. She picked up speed, branches cracking under her feet as she broke out into a sloppy run. You could only watch as she ran it through your chest with ease. Her cursed knife’s black flames met the soft flesh of your chest with a quick squelch and cracking  your ribs with ease. You screamed, but it quickly was muffled as you gurgled on your own blood. You shakily grabbed over her hands looking Celina directly in the eyes. She kept pushing the knife deeper into your chest and you agonized a roar. She let go of the handle only to take some blood streaming down your neck into her palm. You were convulsing, trembling while your hands still held onto the knife. Breathing was difficult as thick rivets of blood was flowing down your chest.

“Just in time, a minute before midnight.” She laughed raising her hands up to the sky, “I will rise again!” She then brought it to her lips to drink.

Namjoon emerged from the dense fog, strong clanking of chains and growling announcing his ominous arrival. He held the leash of Edax Animae and his scythe in his other, face partially covered in blood with completely black eyes. The hounds formed a V formation around him, black smoke still leaving his mouth as hell still leaks from him. “You think the Reaper would die that easily? I never make mistakes.” Edax staggered, then caught Celina’s scent and tugged on the chains. Namjoon raised the leash and whipped them letting go of them on his down swing, “Sick her boys.”

Celina didn’t get a chance drink as Edax Animae hunched down and ran towards her like an animal growling and roaring. The hounds ran behind Edax snarling and barking ferociously. With an open Jaw he pierced her with his tusk and scooped her body into his jaw like a Venus fly trap. Haunting screams followed gurgling sounds as Edax feasted. Celina’s hand fell limp as it hung out of Edax jaw. Celina was dead and because of her own curse.

A black sludge trudged like a slug away from the corpse. Namjoon brought his scythe up and chopped down on it multiple times, splatters of black ink hitting his face. The sludge evaporated, never to be dealt with again. Celina was collected.

Edax began coughing, his body hacking up the stolen body Celina had used. He roared shaking his head around violently and slowly his body began to transform. His flesh rippling, features bubbling, fur receding and tusk collapsing to the floor off his face.

“Edax!”

The being shrunk reducing itself back into a small boy covering in mud and blood. The boy panted as he collapsed to his knee fainting from the shift. Namjoon picked him up in his arms and the boy still had a pulse, “Mallory!”

His attention turned when he heard a gurgling. His eyes widened impossibly, and he clutched the boy tighter to his chest. He stood up with Mallory in his arms calling out your name, “Y/N! Where aRE YOU? ANSWER ME!”

Namjoon searched within the fog and found you kneeling on the floor not far from Kaya. “Y/N!” He gently set down Mallory to inspect you, hands not sure were to fall as he looked at you horrified. Your hands were still wrapped around the knife. “Y/N! NO, no, no! Oh my god, I’m so sorry I took so long. I’m so sorry!”

Your vision was going blurry, you weren’t sure how much longer you had, but you wanted to stay at least to see Namjoon. You needed to know he was okay. You let go of the handle and winced, but you reached out for his hand and brought it to your cheek. You nuzzled against it. You smiled against all the pain, you could do that at least. You watched Namjoon’s panicked face turn blotchy and fade out meshing with the grey background. Your body slacked, head lulling to the side your eyes fell succumbing to the drowsiness.

Namjoon grabbed at your face screaming loud enough to shake the pits, “Y/N!” He tried shaking you awake, but your body swung limply about. He felt for a pulse in your neck with his fingers, but there wasn’t a response. He brought you into his chest caressing your head to his chest rocking back and forth.

It was midnight, and the debt had been paid, but there was always a price.

A green glow filtered in through the dense fog overcoming the four of you. Namjoon lifted his hanging head as a delicate hand pushed his hair back. He wiped his head up, tears dripping down his face.

Satera’s gentle smile greeted him, “Let me see her Reaper.”

He held you tighter to his chest, “Please, don’t—don’t take her.”

She continued to smile and crouched down in front of the both of you. Her grand white dress billowing about her. She reached out and grabbed onto the handle of the knife, “I cannot give her life back, but I can give her something more.”

Namjoon looked up surprised, “What?”

“She is a Duximina. Her fate changed when she died in your uniform. Do you not remember your soul is within it Reaper? Your thread changed her fate.”

He watched as the black knife burned in her hands as she ripped it out of your chest. Your chest levitated up with the tugging and fell back into his chest. Satera cupped her hands muttering under her breathe and her hands began to glow green. She carefully opened them revealing a glowing green ball. Satera kissed it then placed it in your chest. The energy melted into your chest, the injury sealing itself, there was a silent pause. Namjoon stared at your face watching in amazement as the purple around your eyes began to fade and color began to seep back in. You suddenly opened your eyes, nearly bugging out form your skull as your back arched as you deeply inhaled. Namjoon quickly sat you up as you began coughing up the remaining blood that was left in your throat. You inspected your hands, “Wha—how?”

Namjoon brought you into his chest smothering you, “You’re alive, you’re alive.”

Satera tsked, “You’re alive my dear, but not quite.”

You turned towards the mythical being, recognizing her from the multitude of text, “S-Satera?”

She smiled happy you knew of her, “Welcome to the world Duximina,” gently taking your hand, “fulfill your destiny.”

She stood up and walked over to Kaya, “I’m so sorry dear. You’ve done well, now you may watch over them from some place else.” She looked towards Mallory, who was still unconscious then back to Kaya, “He will be well protected, don’t you worry.” She placed her hand over Kaya’s forehead and the both of them disappeared into shimmering dust.

Tears streamed down your faces, as you watched them disappear. Namjoon checked on you, “You’re alive.” That was all he could get out.

You smiled back at him, cupping his stained cheek, “We did it?”

He nodded, stray tears making their way down his face. He slowly raised up, helping you stand as well, “Stay there, don’t move.”

He walked over to Mallory and scooped the boy into his arms and went back to you wrapping your hand in his, “Let’s go home.”

The three of you vanished in a cloud of black smoke.

Your pumps clicked on the wooden flooring. It echoed throughout the empty café. You spotted the booth and you gracefully scooted in. You adjusted his blazer and crossed your legs under the table haughtily, then tossed your arm behind the seat. You looked Namjoon dead in the eyes with a brow raised, “I’ve come to collect.”

He chuckled and copied your gesture tauntingly, “Witch Reaper.”

You both laughed and he leaned over the table and took your chin bringing your lips to his, “Collected.”

You leaned right and did the same to the boy swinging his feet under the booth, too distracted with his collaring page leaving a kiss on his forehead. “ Missed you Mallory.” He grunted in acknowledgement, but you knew that was a lot from the kid.

You felt your chest tingling where your medal was, another call was coming in. You groaned, “I just got here.”

He laughed, but it was cut short when he felt the same sensation, “Guess I gotta go too.”

He reached across the table and kissed you again, “We’re still on for dinner and Family Feud later?”

You lifted your brow, “Always.”

Namjoon picked up Mallory moving him onto his lap, “ We gotta go Kiddo.” In the next second the three of you vanished in your own clouds of black smoke, a half-colored page with discarded broken crayons and the white steam from the abandoned coffee still swirled.

Collected.

Copyright 2018 © by magicalsalamander. All rights reserved.

[a-detraque-barista]

Fate’s a Bitch

Yandere!Taehyung x Grim Reaper!Reader

Genre: yandere, gore, death, angst

Word Count: 4k+

WARNINGS: death, blood, hell/heaven/purgatory/reincarnation talk, reader has unexplained battle scars, i can’t write action scenes for shit, yandere themes

@lichu-chu-chu​  💙

All you’ve ever known was death, sorrow, and fate. You did have a life before this one but you don’t remember much. Just the name that no one has spoken in over thirty years when your soul had left your mangled body. The body of which had been chosen to be merely a vessel for your soul that was created to become not one for life, but for death.

“Please! Spare my life!” begged the man as he watched his now lifeless body being buried by his loved ones.

You said nothing. No sound came from beneath your pitch-black cloak that hid everything but your hands. One of which held the tell-tale scythe of a Grim Reaper.

“Damn you! I didn’t deserve to die!” the man broke down in trembling sobs as you stood silent once again. “Say something, anything!!”

However, you did not. All you did was motion the arm carrying the scythe towards the appearing path, a path of which you cannot see the end.

You sighed as you headed toward another soul that lost its path to its designated afterlife. Some go to Purgatory, some go to Heaven, and others to either Hell or the Reincarnation Sector. It just depends on who the soul is and their purpose. On the rare occasion that a soul is to become a Grim Reaper, they get sent to the Soul Sector, along with another type of abomination of a creature. Something that you despise speaking of.

The Soul Sector was the place where reapers were trained and verified. There was no way out of the Soul Sector unless you wanted to be damned to Purgatory and suffer for all eternity or get sent to Reincarnation, only to end up back at the Soul Sector after you have died once again.

You chose to accept your fate and become the Grim Reaper of Seoul, South Korea. One reaper cannot keep track of all the lost souls in the world so there were thousands of reapers assigned to different areas and regions. Large cities only had one each while less populated countries got their own.

You stopped in your tracks when you found the soul of a little girl, staring down the abandoned well she ended up in. The little girl could feel your presence and said, “My mommy let go of me. I just wanted to grab that pretty flower.”

Stepping closer and looking down, you saw a white flower, almost glowing in the darkness. Gods, children’s souls had always had a certain place in your heart. You gently rest your cold hand on her tiny shoulder before reaching your scythe down to the flower and plucking it for her. Hoping it would provide at least a little comfort. The small defeated smile said it did.

“What will happen to me?” she asked as her eyes never left the dark abyss-like hole.

“I do not know, but it will be better than this life,” your voice soothed the girl as it did for anyone who heard it. That’s why you try not to speak around souls, you do not know who will be damned to Hell or Purgatory. You only guide them back to the path they strayed from. Holding out your hand to the little girl, she took it and held on tightly as you led her to the grassy path that had appeared. She took a step onto the vibrant green grass but didn’t take another as you did not step with her.

She looked up at you, not understanding. So you slipped your hand from hers and nudged her a bit, “This is your path, not mine. Keep walking and you’ll get to where you need to go.”

The girl hesitated but she nodded and took reluctant steps before she turned back to you and waved with uncertainty.

All you did was wave back and watched as she disappeared along with the strip of grass ending at whatever destination she needed to go.

A ringing began on one side of your skull and moved its way to the other. A homicide. Whenever you heard a ringing such as that, it meant a murder was about to take place.

You aren’t allowed to interfere with the murder, you’re only meant to guide the forsaken souls to wherever they need to go. No reaper can stop death, they can only help the dead.

Based on centuries of studying, the souls of murder victims are always the most confused and in denial, anyone will ever have to deal with. 

You arrived at where your internal map said the homicide will occur. It was on the outskirts of the city, where all the suburban neighborhoods were located.

Walking through the front wall of the house, all you saw was a disheartening scene. A man being overtaken by another. The one that was going to be the victim was screaming and pleading for help. He struggled against the man standing above him who was dressed in all black. You could see the victim’s bulging eyes and spit running down his chin.

The murderer’s face was still unknown to you as he was directed the other way. What you did know was that the killer was laughing and taunting his victim.

“How does it feel to be overflowing with fear? How does it feel to know how I felt all those years ago when you tried to kill me?” his voice sent bumps up and down your arms. The raw emotion of anger and hatred was...chilling.

You couldn’t help but giggle at your own joke but your small smile quickly faded as you made eye contact with the killer that had stopped threatening the man on the floor. You held the breath that you didn’t need as the man stared at you. Could he...see you? Encountering a mortal who can see a reaper without aid was extremely rare, but not unheard of. Your mind went back to a section of your training and held up your hand, palm outward, towards the killer. He needed to have his memory erased up until before he heard you giggle so you can wait outside and go through the trouble of having to hunt down the murdered soul.

“Wait! Don’t erase my memory!” he couldn’t see it but you raised an eyebrow at him.

Now that he was completely faced towards you, inspecting his appearance was a lot easier. His strong and defined jaw held his statue-worthy features. Your eyes skipped to his fluffy head of hair that was almost as black as your cloak, leading down to his dark doe eyes that held more than he was letting on. You see a mole peeking out from the rounding of his nose.

The murderer got impatient and took the knife in his hand, bringing it across the frozen man’s throat swiftly. His body fell flat on the floor, with his hand frantically attempting to stop the bleeding but it was no use. The cut was too deep, jugulars severed.

You could see his soul beginning to rise out of the lifeless vessel but the killer placed his foot on the spirit and pushed it back down into the body. Keeping it there as the victim coughed and gasped.

Quickly, you had your scythe blade around and against the murderer’s own throat. All he did was turn the upper half of his body with a sickening grin stretched across his maddened face.

“He isn’t the only reason why I’m here, doll,” the man’s eyes flashed green before he whispered an enchantment. Metal bonds slid across the dying man’s chest, head, waist, and legs. Soul Binding. The act of holding a soul in a dying body so they suffer until the spell is uplifted.

The thing standing in front of you was no human. He was a fucking Grell. A creature of death and despair. Killing humans for fun. Their good looks always allowed them to lure most people right into their traps. The Grell that stood in front of you was one that surely used his looks to his advantage.

He groaned, “I love it when you look at me.”

“What makes you think I’m looking at you? I could very well be looking at the trapped soul laying at your over-expensive shoes,” you growled from beneath your hood.

Grells were always so infuriating. Creating chaos and leaving the lost souls to the Reapers. Doing whatever they wished, all while taunting and belittling the Reapers.

“No need to be so hostile, doll. I just wanted to see you again~” the Grell grinned. “Besides, he’s going to end up in heaven anyway.”

Confusion set in. Wasn’t he just going on about the mortal trying to kill him? Or maybe…

“That’s right, doll. He never tried to kill me. This pathetic mortal wouldn’t hurt a fly. I did put on quite a good show though, right? Even Reapers get fooled by me,” his deep monotone chuckle sent chills up your arms and irritation through the roof.

“Give me the soul, now,” you growled through gritted teeth.

“Always so serious,” he chuckled once again. “Say my name, and I’ll do anything for you.” Within a millisecond, he was towering over you. “You should remember, given we were training in the Soul Sector at the same time.”

Of course, that’s where he knew you from. Grim Reapers and Grells were sent to the same afterlife, only with different objectives. However, you couldn’t remember his name.

The Grell’s smirk fell, anger slowly creeping along his beautiful features, “Maybe you just need a little time is all.”

With that, the Grell turned around and effortlessly picked up the body from the bloody floor. He turned to you once more with that sickening grin. Eyes boring into you, wishing to see you once more without the cloak...among the rest of your clothing as he had dreamed of so many times before.

You were practically frozen, you didn’t know what to do. If you harm the Grell there will be serious repercussions, but if you fail to guide the soul repercussions still await you.

Looking back up, he was gone, the tortured soul taken with him. You shoved your hood down and dragged your icy hand down your ice-cold face.

How are you going to explain this to your supervisor? A Grell is targeting your region to get you to remember him so he murdered an innocent man and bound his soul to his body and is now holding him hostage? Yeah, this should go over well.

“Well, go find out who he is and get that soul back before I reap your soul myself!” your supervisor shrieked as he paced back and forth. “I don’t care how you find out, just do it.”

Suddenly, you felt your ass hit the dark granite floors and had the doors to your supervisor’s office slammed in your face. He was never one to be nice. He was your least favorite Master Reaper you’ve ever met, but you couldn’t help being assigned to him.

You sighed before standing up and snatching your scythe from the floor before heading to the only place you knew would know who the Grell was. The Archives of the Soul Sector. These weren’t any ordinary archives. Instead of paper and files, the archives were old people that had memories of elephants. Luckily, there was one, in particular, that was fond of you.

The legendary Kang Jae, the baddest Grim Reaper the world has ever seen. She liked you because of your outstanding record, along with your manners.

“Kang-sunbaenim,” you whispered as you rounded the corner of the last bookshelf in the room. If a human were to look around, they’d think it was merely a library. But the shelves were for decoration to fill up the vast room and give each archive their privacy.

“Finally, someone who isn’t a drag,” Jae chuckled as she faced the window. She always loved looking out onto the field of training Reapers. “Promising harvest for the American Reapers.”

Jae smiled at you through your reflection in the window. Her all-black eyes gave you nothing, as always. Always such a closed-off soul.

“I may be closed-off but at least I’m polite,” she chuckled again as she spun her wheelchair around to face you. Her legs being collateral to achieving her two-millionth soul. “Stop that, you always look at my legs with pity. And I can read your mind. It was an honor to break the one-millionth record and now all I do is fuck around this sector.”

At last, you let a small smile stretch across your features. Not that Jae could see it.

“I heard you have a little...admirer,” Jae motioned for you to sit down in the plush chair across from her. You did without hesitation.

“Admirer is too romantic sounding, sunbaenim.”

“Well, he’s been keeping tabs on you for years now. Ever since the two of you got verified,” your eyes widened. Jae rolled her chair over to you and took a hold of your hands, sharing a movie-like clip in your own mind. “You know exactly who he is.”

↡      ↡      ↡

“Who’s next?!” there was an uproar around the muddy wrestling ring set up outside, right in between the Grell and Reaper units. The commonplace of the two different kinds of soul takers.

It seems there’s another arrogant bastard trying to pick a fight to feed his ego. Something you had no intention of taking part in. Until you were pulled directly into the crowd you only wanted to ignore. People were pushing and pulling you closer and closer to the bloody and torn ring where a Grell stood waiting for his next victim.

His dark eyes landed on you as you struggled against the many hands pushing you up onto the platform to see you beaten. You can tell by his smug face that you were only going to be another win for him. Another notch on his egotistical ladder, where all these people are going to watch as he takes down another Grim Reaper.

“Come ‘ere, dollface, so I can turn you into a bloody pulp,” Gods, even his shit talk was cringe.

You rolled your eyes, an action that both irritated and excited the man standing a few feet away from you. The crowd had gotten louder and you could hear a couple of your classmates cheering you on.

Sighing, you placed your feet firmly on the creaking wood of the floor in a defensive stance. Your arms are up and protecting your face. It seems there was no getting out unless you fight.

His deep chuckle resonated through you as if you weren’t made of muscle and bones. It was unsettling, the way he was looking at you didn’t help. Something dark dwelled in those eyes.

He took the first swing. His fist made contact with your arm as you shot out your other hand and forced your knuckles into his nose. You could feel and hear the crack from his nose breaking. Quickly, as he held a hand to his gushing face, you spun and swiped your leg behind his knees. The Grell’s raven curls met the hard floor of the ring. 

How did so many people lose to him? His moves were so predictable and brash. He only focused on hitting his opponent and making sure they go down with one or two hits. You stood there waiting to see if he would stand up, but he never did. The crowd was silent as the Grell tried to catch his breath on the floor.

Then cheering and groans were being thrown out all around you. There was laughing, and suddenly, you could feel hands grabbing and shaking you. Congratulating you and wanting to learn from you and your simple combat skills.

The next day, the Grell you had defeated so easily had asked you to show him how to fight. But you declined, more worried about your own training and courses. A Grell would only ruin your life...well...afterlife.

↟      ↟      ↟

Jae let go of your hands as you quietly gasped. That was so long ago...How did you not recognize him? Was he still angry with you? Did he want to redeem himself?

“Seems like this young man has a thing for you~” you rolled your eyes as you pulled your hood off from your head. “Not everyone is as dedicated as him.”

Your face gave away your disbelief, “Sunbaenim, you of all people should know that relationships are a waste of time.”

She shrugged, “Maybe even the dead need a little bit of love.”

Your brow raised in question but before letting her go on you stood up and covered your head again with your onyx hood.

“It was really nice talking to you again, sunbaenim. Thank you for everything. I’ll visit again soon,” you rushed out of the archive room and made your way to your comfy safe space right here in the Soul Sector. Kang Jae’s age must be getting to her.

“Don’t hurt my favorite reaper, Taehyung,” Jae said to the seemingly empty corner she called home. The Grell that has been obsessed with you for over thirty years appeared in the chair you had sat in only seconds ago.

“I wouldn’t dream of hurting my little doll,” his dark eyes sparkled with excitement and mischief. This was his breaking point.

Your room faintly smelled of the candle you burnt last. Your room was quiet but something was off. Looking around, nothing was out of place. Nothing was new or missing. The feeling was just...off. Maybe it was because it’s been a few days since you’ve been there. This week was hectic and you wanted to lay down. Grim Reapers didn’t technically need sleep or rest but it was nice to take a couple of hours for yourself.

For the first time in, only the Gods know how long, you slip your cloak off over your head. Your scarred skin across your arms, legs, and neck was now visible. The scars you’ve accumulated in your past life and early training years littered your body. They’re one of the main reasons you always keep your cloak on, even here in the Soul Sector.

Sitting down on your soft bed, it immediately began to drain you. Eyelids felt heavy, shoulders slumped, and back ached. You took your boots off and curled up underneath your thick duvet.

Within minutes, you fell asleep. Your whole body was relaxed, no worries were pressing down on you. The warmth from the blanket engulfing you kept you from shivering. Everything in this moment was perfect.

So what better time for everything to be ruined?

Your safe space no longer felt secure. Shivers ran up and down your spine no matter how warm you were. Your peaceful expression turned sour as you could unconsciously feel threatened. However, it wasn’t enough to wake you. Something was keeping you asleep.

You weren’t dreaming, your mind was just...blank. It almost felt like you were idle in your own head. You were aware of your dream-like state but the whole area surrounding you was completely dark. Your eyes moved but nothing changed. Everywhere was pitch black. It was silent, you couldn’t even hear your own breathing or heartbeat. Not even ringing came from the constant silence.

Is this...what it feels like to be dead? You can’t remember what it felt like when you first died and departed from the human realm. This was such a strange feeling that you’ve never experienced before. It felt like you were floating but your feet were placed firmly on the ground.

Suddenly, you gasped and your eyes snapped open. You sat up quickly and looked around. This wasn’t your room. It was one you didn’t recognize at all. The plush bed you were lying in was covered in silk sheets and fur blankets. The room was well-lit but still dark due to the deep green tones of the walls and furniture.

Your mind was practically swimming. You had no idea what was going on besides the fact you weren’t where you were supposed to be. And even that was almost too much to grasp. Your limbs felt like gelatin and your body screamed at you to lay back down.

It was so tempting, to just lay back down again. However, this was too serious of a situation to sleep on. You were in someone else’s room, maybe even house. You couldn’t tell if you were still in the Soul Sector or not. You forced yourself to get out of the much-too-comfortable bed and shakily stood on the icy granite floor. Slowly, you made your way to the only door that wasn’t open. The other two revealed a bathing room and the other, a glamorous closet filled to the brim.

Surprisingly, the door was unlocked. Usually when one kidnaps another, they lock the exit right? You poked your head out and looked down both ways of the unnecessarily long corridor. You saw nothing except for the flickering flames and dancing shadows coming from the emerald candles lining both sides of the hallway.

Deciding to go the left since you can just turn back around if it ended up being a dead end, hopefully before your captor realizes you’re gone. You weren’t concerned about finding out who it was given you had an idea on who it likely is. You were more worried about getting somewhere safe.

Fate seemed to not be on your side as you rounded the corner and made eye contact with the man who’s been ruining your day. His lips turned up into his iconic smirk and his dark eyes glinted in the light of the chandelier hanging above.

“There’s my doll. I’ve missed you,” his voice was warm but his words made bumps rise across your skin.

“I’m not your fucking doll,” you growled as you loosely hugged yourself. Aware of the fact he can see so many of your scars. Even though his gaze was focused on your face.

How could he not? You were so pretty. That’s why he called you ‘doll’. You had the features worthy of one. Hell, you had features worthy of a sculpture in a world-renowned exhibit. He would never want so many people having the pleasure of looking upon you such as that, but you being so astonishing was no overstatement.

“No, you’re my everything,” he stood up and walked closer to you.

Immediately, you pulled your leg back and lowered your body into a defensive position. Something Taehyung was all too familiar with. It’s the very thing that began his obsession for you.

Taehyung also got into a defensive position. It wasn’t one you were familiar with and that’s what gave him the advantage.

A few blocks and hits later, Taehyung had you pinned to the floor. He had most certainly gotten better at hand-to-hand combat. After a few seconds of you soaking in your loss, you sighed.

“Cool, now that you’ve gotten even with me, you can leave me alone,” you went to sit up but Taehyung didn’t budge. Your brows furrowed and mouth opened to say something but closed instantly once you looked into his eyes. Pure madness. Insanity. You’ve never seen anything like it.

He looked so animalistic, so primal. Even for a Grell.

“You’re not going anywhere. Besides, you forgot about our deal,” Shit. “What’s my name, doll?”

You don’t know what came over you or what mystical being was helping you out but all of a sudden, a name popped into your head. You just wanted to be done with this childish bullshit so you decided to give the name a try.

“Taehyung.”

The groan that emitted from his throat wasn’t like anything you’ve ever heard. You could feel the vibration come from his chest and into yours. His eyes almost rolled into the back of his skull before they snapped back to you. With a swipe of his tongue across his lips he said, “I can’t wait to hear you say my name over and over again for the rest of our lives.”

“What the hell does that mean-”

“It means you’re stuck here. With me. Until the end of time,” Taehyung slid his grip from your wrists to your hands and intertwined your fingers together. “Because you are my fate, and I am yours.”

[iladkaren]

GRIM LOVE: Chapter II

Pairing: Human!Jeon Jungkook x Grim Reaper!Reader

Summary:

He felt like kicking himself for asking such a stupid question; the answer was obvious. Of course, there was something wrong with him – he was a living, breathing human being. Humans do not fall in love with Grim Reapers.

Chapter I

The moment Jungkook opened his eyes, he was greeted by a white ceiling above him. He groaned when his head began to pound and he moved his hand to rub at it. His eyes slowly blinked open after the painful throbbing subsided slightly and stared into nothingness. He felt a lump in his throat as tears sprang up. 

He was in the hospital.

Jungkook sat upright abruptly in bed, feeling like someone had kicked him as his body screamed out at him for sudden movements, and his ribs gave an involuntary flinch. A sob escaped him at that, but he couldn’t stop it. Everything hurt. And there was someone else here with him. There were some soft noises beside him, and he looked over to see who it was. Jimin was sleeping on the couch beside the hospital bed. His hair was messy, he probably hadn't taken care of himself very well.

Jungkook’s chest tightened and he tried not to cry again. This wasn’t fair. All he wanted was to go home. All he ever wanted to do was go home.

Jungkook tried so hard to remember what happened last night. He remembered fighting with some random guys before being knocked down, he remembered struggling to get off the floor.

Then there was blackness, and then…

Glowing eyes. Black suit. Ethereal. Woman. Grim Reaper. 

It all came flooding back to him, in excruciating detail. His hands clenched into fists as he let out a shaky breath, the memories making him feel confused than he already did.

Who was she? She was so beautiful.

A tear fell onto his cheek, and another one followed soon after. His face grew wet and hot, and Jungkook didn’t know if it was because he'd been crying or if it was because of something else, but the more it dripped down, the more he thought about that woman. 

“Jungkook?” Jimin called from beside him, causing Jungkook to jump slightly. “Hey, how are you feeling?”

“I…” Jungkook started, looking away. “I want to go home. I’m tired…and cold.”

Jimin nodded. “You’ll be allowed to leave tomorrow morning. But just until then.”

“Why can’t I go now?”

Jimin shook his head. “Your parents will need to hear this first. I doubt you want them to worry any more.”

Jungkook huffed. “Okay, I’ll wait. Is my phone still here?”

Another nod.

They sat quietly together for a while longer before Jungkook spoke up again. “How’d you find me?”

“Someone found you unconscious on the streets,” Jimin answered simply. “They brought you straight here. They said you were really injured badly.”

Tears prickled Jungkook's eyes, but he forced himself to hold them back.

“What happened to you, Jungkook?” Jimin asked, almost hesitantly. “I mean…who would want to hurt you?”

Jungkook shrugged. “I don’t know, I guess they just…wanted my soul.”

Jimin's brow creased as he studied Jungkook’s expression. Jungkook could only shrug once again.

“And you were crying,” Jimin said softly, leaning closer to look at his friend. “You never cry, Jungkook.”

“Oh.” Jungkook sniffed as his heart rate spiked uncomfortably. “That sounds stupid.”

“No no, it doesn’t. It sounds real,” Jimin responded. “Are you okay? What was it that…”

“Nothing happened, I swear,” Jungkook interrupted, cutting Jimin short.

“Alright. You sure?”

“Yes. Nothing happened.”

Jimin sighed. He seemed reluctant to believe Jungkook’s words, which made Jungkook feel bad. He knew it was stupid to tell Jimin right now that he met the Grim Reaper. Jimin was scared enough already, and if he saw what the Grim Reaper really looks like, he'd definitely freak out. He didn't even dare think what Jimin would do in that situation.

“Well,” Jimin said finally. “Just rest for now. You should try to take a nap too, since your injuries aren’t fully healed yet.”

“Okay. Thanks, hyung.”

Jimin smiled softly at him. “Of course.” Then he stood up. “Rest well, Kookie.” He said before leaving.

“Will do.”

As he lay awake that night trying not to think, Jungkook found himself replaying last night’s events in his mind again and again, trying to figure out why he had met the Grim Reaper last night. It was all too much to take.

’You’re meant to die today.’

Those words echoed inside his head over and over, like a broken record. Why didn’t he die today? If anything, he should be happy. The universe was giving him a second chance, and he was supposed to take it. He should be able to live his life to the fullest. Shouldn't he be grateful? Instead, he feels sad. Sad, lonely. Lonely and broken. He hates it.

He could not get her out of his thoughts. Every time he closes his eyes and sees those golden eyes staring directly at him, he sees her lips moving, saying something that sounded like a threat, telling him to “sleep”. Her voice echoes in his ears, like an echo of his own thoughts, telling him not to listen. He tries desperately to ignore it, but he keeps seeing her everywhere. In the corner of his eye. In the corner of his hospital room. Watching him. Always watching him. As if he is the most interesting thing in the world.

It was not infatuation. Yes, definitely not infatuation. That was too ridiculous. He was simply intrigued, that was all, nothing more. He was curious. She was fascinating. No, not fascinating, but intriguing. That was a better description. Intriguingly beautiful was too obvious. She was captivating. The word captivating did not come to mind. The only adjective he could use to describe her was mysterious.

There was no way he was crushing on the Grim Reaper. He had absolutely no interest in death or people like that. He was fine with the idea of dying, but he had never wished upon it for someone in his whole life! Never. So, if anyone was going to have the pleasure of dying today, it would definitely not be him.

He needed help.

The next morning he was discharged early, which took a few hours. Jimin accompanied him and helped him dress into clean clothes. After putting on his shoes, following Jimin out of the hospital, where Jimin had insisted he stay overnight despite Jungkook’s protests. They got to the car parked outside and Jimin helped him in.

Jungkook was quiet and sullen as he leaned against the side window and closed his eyes. He felt so exhausted and numb. The painkillers weren't doing much for him. Not to mention, he still wasn't fully healed. Jimin noticed this and frowned. He didn't say anything though. He decided to keep his mouth shut instead.

After a little bit, Jimin drove them towards Jungkook's house. It took a long amount of time, driving through empty roads, with the radio playing in the background. Jungkook kept falling asleep throughout the ride, and the exhaustion slowly began taking its toll on him. His eyelids drooped lower and lower, and eventually they slid shut, only to snap open minutes later when Jimin stopped the car. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and looked around.

"Huh?" he mumbled groggily, blinking rapidly as he tried to process everything. "Where're we?"

"Home," Jimin responded simply. "You’re home.”

Home…

Jungkook's gaze softened, and he turned to look out of the window. A wave of dizziness washed over him as he glanced back at Jimin. Everything seemed blurry, and he could barely focus on anything other than the darkness in front of him.

"Jimin?" he whispered suddenly.

"Hm?" Jimin hummed back in response.

"When can I see her?"

Jimin blinked at him confusedly. He opened his mouth to speak, but then he closed it again and swallowed hard. Jungkook watched as the older boy bit his lip nervously.

“See who?” Jimin asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Her. When can I see her again?" Jungkook repeated.

“Jungkook, who are you talking about?” Jimin pressed gently. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine.” Jungkook quickly replied, a small smile creeping onto his face. “Don’t worry, everything is alright now.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Jimin questioned.

Jungkook nodded his head, not trusting himself to speak as he got out of the car. Jimin gave one last worried glance in Jungkook’s direction before getting out of the car himself and heading over to the passenger seat to grab their bags. Jungkook started walking ahead, not wanting to hear the questions that were surely on Jimin’s tongue. All he wanted was to go inside and sleep. Sleep until he left him alone and forgotten. Until all this craziness ended.

He almost mentioned the Grim Reaper to Jimin, but held his tongue. If Jimin had reacted negatively to the possibility of meeting the Grim Reaper, he would probably freak out and run away from him, screaming ‘demon!’ 

And the last thing Jungkook wanted was for Jimin to freak out because of him.

After two weeks, things had begun to go back to normal. He felt comfortable at school, although there was still a nagging feeling in the back of his head whenever he thought about the Grim Reaper. It was as if he was always waiting for her to pop by and scare him out of his wits. Which would probably happen sooner or later anyway.

Jimin continued to visit him every week, bringing food to eat and bringing blankets to make sure he was warm during the nights. The younger boy couldn't thank him enough, but the fact that Jimin continued to give him food and care even after he lied to him about the Grim Reaper just seemed strange to him.

One day, Jimin told him about some new video games he had bought in town. Jungkook was excited, asking for suggestions. Jimin laughed while explaining what type of game was best to play. Once again, Jungkook’s attention drifted and stayed there instead. While Jimin spoke, his thoughts wandered elsewhere. He stared absentmindedly outside, thinking about everything and anything related to the Grim Reaper. There was something about her that fascinated him. But for the most part, Jungkook couldn't figure out what he was interested in. He had been trying to figure it out for weeks. It frustrated him greatly. It frustrated him because he didn't know what exactly was causing it.

He was a person who enjoyed learning and learning new things about the universe that made him curious. He'd read countless stories about the Grim Reaper and the Grim Reapers themselves, trying to find clues about why exactly they existed. It usually resulted in finding nothing but frustrating mysteries about their true identities. But somehow, he was drawn to the Grim Reaper herself, to learn more about her. To understand her.

And that was probably why it frustrated him so much.

Suddenly, Jimin's voice brought him back to reality. "Jungkook?" he asked quietly, concern filling his tone. "What are you thinking about?"

"I'm…" Jungkook hesitated, unsure how honest he should really be. "Just wondering about the supernatural."

He watched as Jimin's eyes widened slightly in surprise and he sat up straight, leaning forward in curiosity.

"You want to know about the supernatural?" Jimin asked.

"Yes. I've heard so many theories about the Grim Reaper, but I don't know anything about it myself. Is there something wrong with me?" Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows as soon as the question left his mouth. He felt like kicking himself for asking such a stupid question; the answer was obvious. Of course, there was something wrong with him – he was a living, breathing human being. Humans do not fall in love with Grim Reapers.

"No, no!" Jimin shook his head frantically, staring intently at Jungkook. "No, Kookie, of course there isn't anything wrong with you!"

He smiled reassuringly at him and reached out to pat his shoulder lightly. Jungkook returned his smile weakly.

"Why do you ask?" Jimin asked.

Jungkook shrugged nonchalantly. "Dunno. Just… Curious."

He was curious. The thought of the Grim Reaper being real still hadn't crossed his mind.

How could she exist? 

If the Grim Reaper were real, it meant that Jungkook might actually be able to communicate with her. Maybe even talk. Maybe even meet her face to face.

And he did…

He did. After another week and a half, Jungkook finally had his wish fulfilled when a car accident occurred on his way home. A drunk driver ran into a car and killed a man instantly.

The police and ambulance was there in less than a minute, but it was too late. The poor man died within seconds. Injuries to both legs, head, and stomach, plus broken limbs and head bones - everything was absolutely horrific. It was horrible seeing an actual person suffer like that. Jungkook could hardly imagine any scenario worse than what happened right then and there. It was horrifying, and he never wanted to see something like that ever again.

And then, she was there. 

Just standing a few meters away from the crowd that gathered.

She stood tall and proud as ever, and even though Jungkook knew that he was staring directly at her, he didn't dare move nor dared blink. She was the same as ever. Ethereal, sharp red lips, glowing eyes. And he felt completely different when he saw her.

He felt calm.

And happy.

Relieved.

Ecstatic.

He noticed she was waiting for something. Again. Waiting for someone.

He wanted to get closer. Wanted to reach out to her, feel her skin against his, touch her hair, smell her perfume. He wanted to feel her breath on his neck, her hand on his chest, her hands roaming under his shirt. He wanted her, so badly.

But he didn't move.

Instead, he watched her, unable to tear his gaze away. Even when the soul of the man stepped towards her, he refused to let his body budge.

They began to talk. Jungkook watched closely as the man went from confusion and begged her to let him live a second.

The soul and the Grim Reaper walked out together. He followed them as they turn to a corner street and disappeared from sight. His heart ached fiercely when he found it impossible to continue following them. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to go find her. But he remained put where he was.

"Are you following me, human?" A sensual voice called out softly behind him.

Without moving a muscle, Jungkook slowly turned around to face the figure standing there. Slowly, his gaze travelled up to the woman who appeared in front of him.

Her beautiful eyes narrowed as she studied his expression.

"Hi," he said simply, his voice coming out hoarse.

There was a brief moment in which Jungkook wondered whether he should say anything else. What was he supposed to say to her? He had no idea what he should even ask her. So he decided to keep quiet.

"Hello, Jungkook." Her voice was soft, yet powerful, sending shivers down the young man's spine.

Jungkook gulped. He felt fear fill him, knowing the next words out of her mouth may very well cause his demise. Or maybe she'll kill him without a single warning. He honestly didn't know anymore. But he didn't think the last one sounded particularly pleasant either.

"It has been a while since our last conversation, human. Why have you come looking for me?" She tilted her head slightly to one side, as if questioning his motives.

"I-" Jungkook hesitated. How was he going to explain to her exactly what he wanted? That he needed to find her, had to tell her he missed her so bad, had to see if she was real or not? And that he really, really wished he could touch and kiss her? That he wanted to hold and touch and kiss every inch of her body? No. Not yet.

He couldn't tell her all those things. He was still scared. Scared that once he did tell her, she may disappear. Or disappear before him. Or vanish completely. Because if she really was a Grim Reaper, who knew what kind of trouble she could cause, what she could possibly do to him. And he didn't wanna risk it.

He wasn't gonna risk it. Ever.

"Nothing," he replied instead.

Her piercing glowing orbs gazed deeply into his, searching for something in his own. She looked like she was searching for something specific, though what exactly he had no idea. After a few moments of silence, she nodded once before she spoke.

"You can leave now, human. I would like to finish whatever business I need to attend to," she explained calmly, turning away from him completely to look in the opposite direction.

Jungkook's chest grew heavy upon hearing those final words leaving her sweet red lips. His vision became blurry, but he blinked quickly to rid it. He forced himself to stay calm as he took a step towards her, stopping several feet away from her.

"Um... Can I at least try to contact you?" He asked, almost pleading with her.

She slowly moved her head to look at him once again.

"Contact me?"

Jungkook nodded. "Yeah. I just... I'd give anything to hear your voice again. I haven't heard it since we last talked," he said. "Please, Miss Grim Reaper."

A long, heavy silence passed between them.

Finally, she closed her eyes briefly, taking a deep sigh before she opened them again. Her golden orbs stared unwaveringly into Jungkook's. Finally, after what seemed like centuries, she spoke again.

"Come."

Chapter I

[wynniewright]

In Harm’s Way (M)

→ This story is a part of the @bangtanshadowfamily “The Creatures of Moonlight Manor” Halloween collab!

→ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

→ Word Count: 4.8k

→ Genre: grim reaper au, halloween au, smut, lots of fluff, bit angsty

→ Summary: After fighting with her grim reaper boyfriend, Y/N decides to throw herself into a dangerous situations to get him to stop ignoring her.

→ Trigger Warnings: Mentions of attempted suicide (it’s not dark, think of when bella tried to get edward to save her so she kept doing stupid shit - it’s that), one time mention of a past near-death experience (not detailed, it’s just vaguely mentioned in the fluffy part), reader attempts suicide via toaster bath (with the intention of being saved by her supernatural, soul-reaping boyfriend). Please don’t read if these make you uncomfortable! 

→ Warnings: dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral (female), bit of impregnation kink, tae just wants to be a dad, reader makes stupid decisions, cum play, possible impregnation?, sex with pants on, fingering, lots of fluff and all that good stuff

→ A/N: Hello hello! Finally found the time to squeeze in this story in the middle of my full-time school and part-time work schedule. Sorry it took so long for another fic to post but here I am! I want to thank my amazing bangtan hq sprinting crew who helped motivate me to finish this @purpletigertaetae @nightowls388 @shadowsremedy @wwilloww. This story was supposed to be a lot darker and a whole lot more filthy than it turned out. Wasn’t supposed to be fluffy at all and somehow it turned real quick so I hope you enjoy. I’d also like to state that I’m not promoting suicide or slightly toxic relationships, this is a fictional story and the reader hasn’t died, isn’t dead, and won’t die, so the suicidal scene in this is not meant to be disturbing. If you’re not comfortable reading, please don’t. Alright, I love you all.~ Hope you enjoy.

The biggest struggle of dating Taehyung was that no guide, tutorial, or advice blog post could’ve prepared you for what it was going to be like to be in a relationship with him. I almost wished there were some sort of ‘how to’ on dating a grim reaper because no matter how much dating experience I had, being with him was like being in my first relationship again.

It was a little unconventional, sure. Date nights were always iffy since, apparently, reapers don’t need sleep and therefore are technically scheduled around the clock. Boy, there was nothing like us setting up a nice, stay-at-home dinner date when he’d suddenly kiss my cheek and disappear into thin air, only to come back a few minutes later and announce he’d taken another soul. I’ll be honest, it was a slight mood killer. 

But aside from his job description, Tae was a kind person. He didn’t seem to know exactly how to deal with human emotions, as his kind were strictly prohibited from having human-reaper relations and never had the opportunity to learn from us. But just because he didn’t know what emotions were, doesn’t mean he didn’t feel them. He was a sensitive guy, too.

I remembered the first time he cried. We were watching Marley & Me and I cried at the end like any other sane human being. Tae didn’t cry at all, in fact, knowing I was sad made him sad enough to tear up, even more so when he couldn’t get me to stop. That memory was one of my favorites purely because it was too wholesome to forget: a grim reaper crying because a girl was sad that a dog died in a movie. 

But like every other person in the world, not ever emotion was positive. 

Being much older than I, Taehyung didn’t really have moments where he got angry to the point of exploding in a fit. There wasn’t a situation where he ever passed that threshold, at least, not in front of me. The feelings Tae couldn’t quite grasp were hurt and jealousy. 

From his own words, he never loved anyone before me, and something I knew better than anyone was that jealousy and love were very closely intertwined. 

The first year we dated, I tried explaining to him what jealousy was, that even I felt it too in an attempt to teach him that he didn’t need to act on it. It was safe to say that it didn’t really work.

Over four and a half into our relationship together and Taehyung still chose to disappear whenever we got into a small petty argument that involved him taking something out of context and then not wanting to talk about it like the century old being that he was. 

In our most recent example, my best friend, Sam, called and told me that she was expecting her first baby. We cried a little and then spent the rest of the conversation talking about whose eyes they would have or which parent they would most resemble. Tae and I never talked about kids nor a future together, we just lived in every moment the two of us were given, so indulging on a new topic with Sam gave me the image of tiny Tae-Taes waddling across the wooden floor, matching their father’s bright, boxy grin as they giggled. 

I made one comment - one! I told her how I’d love to have mini-Taehyungs running about the place and that I was so excited to meet her little Sam. Somehow, he took that and ran with it.

He didn’t bother letting me speak, pulling the usual disappearing act he always resorted to when he was upset and didn’t want to properly face his feelings in the moment. I thought it would pass like all the rest, but something changed. 

Hours passed and he never came to check in on me. Days flew by and I hadn’t heard from him. I wanted for him to come by, swallowing my pride and shouting at the empty air in hopes he was listening, to no avail. Nothing worked. 

After two weeks of being ignored and left without so much as a trace, I decided to do what any normal girl would do to seek out her boyfriend’s attention.

I needed to kill myself. 

I didn’t want to die, by any means. Tae knew how close I’d come to death a few too many times, but if I was going to get his attention back on me, I needed to attempt something stupid. Not only did it have to be stupid, it also had to be believable. I needed to convince him that I was going to die and hope he’d rescue me just in time.

I knew it wasn’t a good plan to start off with but it was the only thing I could come up with to get him to focus on me. The only reason I even thought of such a stupid idea was because I knew he’d never let me actually die. He saved me once and I was willing to bet he’d save me again and this time my life was actually on the line.

All that being said, I’ll regurgitate that it wasn’t the brightest idea I’d ever had. 

What if he’d decided to have someone else cover me? What if the one time he decided he didn’t want to see me again, he passed the job on to someone else and they just let it go?

I shivered with that thought fresh in my mind. To say I was scared was a gross understatement, the thought of all the ways this could go bad were enough to paralyze me with fear. There was only one reason I stood there in our master bathroom with a bath full of water and a toaster in my hands, already plugged in and ready for me to drop it in.

If I wanted him to talk to me, I had to force him to keep me out of harm’s way.

Nervousness nagged at the back of my mind, heart beating a million miles a minute against my ribcage, forcing me to take a deep inhale of fresh air, even if it was only to calm my nerves for a few seconds. A few seconds was enough to release my grip and pray that Tae would be there to rescue me.

With a last shake of my head, I thought up a quick “I love you” to the universe as if the universe would deliver my message to my friends and family if things didn’t go as planned. And with that, I dropped the small appliance.

The moment it slipped from my fingers, I clenched my eyes tight and waited for the shock to ripple through my body in powerful waves, but nothing came. In fact, time itself seemed to slow down as a large clanging against the wall forced my eyes open, right as a tall, dark figure wrapped an arm around my waist and yanked me out of the tub to press me against the wall adjacent. 

Taehyung stood there, fuming in anger as his gaze bored into mine, hands gripping tightly to me and keeping me pressed against the wall, though I’m not sure if he was holding onto me to keep me steady or if he was preparing to murder me where I stood. To be fair, if it wasn’t for his hold on me, I would’ve slipped against the tile floor that puddled with the water leaking from the bottom half of my jeans. I added a mental note to myself that next time I do something like that again, I should prepare for it to actually work and actually wear a pair of shorts or something. But another problem for another time.

The sheer force in which Taehyung’s eyes glared into mine would normally have made me cower. But knowing I had to do something that stupid just to get him to talk to me again filled me with a burning anger that I didn’t know I had within me. With that newfound anger, I pushed back against his chest, my hands rebounding off his chest without moving him in the slightest. He dropped his hold on me and I stepped forward, my foot catching a slippery tile and making me bang my back against the wall roughly. A sharp pain shot through my back and Tae softened for a  moment, reaching out again to steady me before I finally exploded.

“No. Don’t touch me! I don’t even know where to begin right now!” I defiantly shoved his hands away from my body and crossed my arms over my chest once I balanced out a bit. 

“You? You?! The fuck did I do?” He argued, waving his hands in the air as if his gestures were defence enough for his stupid inhuman reactions.

“Oh, so you’re going to play stupid now, is that it? Really?” I barked, taking a step forward and poking a finger right against his tight chest. “I don’t know. How about the fact that you just walked out on me and never came back? What happened to having a normal fucking conversation like an adult?” He received a poke to his clothed peck with every word to emphasize what he’d done wrong.

Annoyed with me prodding at him in frustration, he grabbed my wrist at my last poke, holding my arm away from him and resumed the glaring. “You’re making this about me now? Are you going to completely ignore the fact that you almost just fried yourself? What the fuck were you thinking?!” He raised his voice, something he didn’t do often, and I naturally shied away from the loudness of his voice to keep my ears from ringing.

“Well I wouldn't have needed to do that had you come back to talk! Of course I tried to get your attention. I love you, you fucking moron,” I grunted, voice cracking at the end as tears instantly sprang to my eyes. Willing them away, I stood my ground and met Tae’s heated gaze with an unwavering one of my own. I wasn’t the one in the wrong. 

“We did talk. Yeah I left, but I did that after I said things weren’t going to work out between us.”

He wasn’t wrong. He did technically say that but it was spoken like a passive statement made in anger, a second before he disappeared to wherever the fuck he went to whenever he was upset with me. So I was just supposed to accept that was it after four and a half years and no idea what broke the two of us. Fuck that, he meant too much to me.

“I don’t understand why you keep saying that. I made one comment - one! - about kids to Sam and now you’re dead-set on not being with me? Why are you so angry about that?” My words came out in a pained whisper as I pleaded with him. I just wanted a response back, to know what was hurting him so I could try and fix it. 

His eyes shifted from mine repetitively, searching my face for something before he mumbled out, “Because I can’t give that to you.”

I froze, all but my heart coming to a halt as I processed his words. He couldn’t give that to me… Kids?

I couldn’t help the frown that framed my lips as his face morphed into one of discomfort, grimacing at himself. A pang of guilt smacked me right in the chest as his face fell. All of it began to make sense and I wasn’t sure if I made things better or worse by doing what I did.

“Tae…” I started, mouth agape as I tried to form some sort of response but I couldn’t think of one at that moment.

He straightened himself out and all visible evidence of his emotional expression was wiped clean off his features. “I can’t give you kids,” he repeated clearly, seemingly more for himself than for me.

Pride swelled up in me and I reached out to wrap my arms around his midsection to hug him close.

“Baby,” I cooed, a fresh wave of tears threatening to soak into his soft cotton shirt as I smothered my face against him, taking in his scent and his warmth. He returned the embrace, tightly hugging me back with his nose buried atop my head.

“You’re not mad at me,” he mumbled thoughtfully.

I shook my head against him, squeezing him that much tighter to reassure him. “I figured it wasn’t biologically possible, but there are plenty of ways for couples to have kids when they otherwise can’t themselves.”

I imagined his brows furrowing as he turned his head, resting the side of his plump cheek on top of my hair. “I don’t understand.”

Pulling back, I tilted my head to look him in the eyes and smiled supportively. Our kids don’t have to look like either of us to be ‘little Taehyungs’ or little ‘Y/Ns’.” I leaned back further and pressed my chin against the center of his chest, humming as he readjusted his embrace around me. “I’ll see you in the way they smile or laugh, all those little idiosyncrasies they pick up from you that make them you kids.”

Tae blinked with a blank expression on his face, staring me down without so much as a response to follow up. The longer he went without responding, the stronger my heart pounded in my chest. 

We never had any serious talks like that before because everything about our relationship was too complicated. Marriage and families weren’t even on our mind, at least not on mine until Sam was getting her own, and suddenly I realized how I’d love to have a family with Taehyung, no matter how unconventional. But there’s a chance that could’ve just been me. Maybe it was too early to be talking about that so Tae didn’t really have an opinion since he couldn’t have kids. Maybe he was trying not to hurt my feelings? God, I broke him.

I cleared my throat and opening my mouth to talk when he cut me off. “So you’re not mad that I…. you’re okay with it?”

“Of course I’m okay with it. Sure, I’m a teenie but sad they probably won’t have your boxy grin or your cute little nose freckle, but our kids would be cute regardless.” The anxiety I had towards his response was no longer a thought in my mind as I suddenly grinned, punctuating my statement with a kiss on his chin, which he playfully returned. But he didn’t stop there. Strong hands gripped the back of my thighs and urged me to jump, forcing my legs to wrap around his waist as he pushed us up against the wall once more, chaste kisses littered across the length of my face. Each peck tickled, giggles pouring past my lips as I scrunched my nose up and took all the comfort he gave. Lips trailed down my neck before he buried his face in the crook of my collarbone, happily sighing against ym skin with a happy hum.

The smile on my lips pinched at my cheeks, making my face ache with the strength of my happiness alone. I never knew he’d have such a human response to something like kids. It made my heart flutter to know that’s where his heart and mind were, that he wasn’t actually mad at me.

With determination, he pushed us off of the bathroom wall and opened the door to our shared bedroom, carrying me to the bed where he motioned to put me down.

“Babe, my pants are still wet,” I reminded him, to which he nodded and set me down a foot or so away to stand in front of him.

“Well, we’re going to solve that,” he quipped, reaching down between us to fumble with the button and zipper on my jeans while I grinned up at him. It wasn’t what I had in mind when planning this out but I sure as hell wasn’t going to complain.

He had a few issues with the clasping mechanics of my pants, a regular issue he was faced with, and grunted in irritation. I giggled, brushing back the long strands of hair behind his ear before a loud ripping sound pulled my attention.

“Baby! These are my favorite jeans!” I screeched at Taehyung, lips pouting as I admired the fresh rip down the center of the jeans that paralleled the zipper. You know, the zipper he could’ve just undone.

Lips pressed to my forehead as a chuckle rippled through his chest. “Not anymore, they’re not.” He meant it to tease but I still glared at him, not finding it in me to laugh at the expense of my favorite pair of jeans. “Sorry, I’ll buy you new ones,” he offered in a light-hearted tone, making me roll my eyes and return the kiss to his chin.

Lean fingers dipped into the waistband of my jeans, tugging them down my hips until they passed the curve of my ass. But the material from the thigh down was still sopping wet and made it even more entertaining to watch him struggle to slide the denim down my legs, coaxing another giggle from me.

“Fuck, why is this so difficult?” Tae let out a soft groan, giving up on his quest of removing the wet article and instead closing the distance between us, lips meeting mine in a gentle kiss.

“What about my pants? Not going to rip them all the way?” I wriggled my eyebrows and laughed when he rolled his eyes back.

“Pants or no pants, I’m still fucking you into the mattress.” His voice dripped with heat, his tone comparing to sex itself, sensual and deep, which made the words shoot straight down to my core.

As promised, he stalked towards me until the back of my knees pressed up against the edge of the bed. He didn’t miss a beat, cupping my face with his large palms and pulling me into a deep kiss that took away what little breath I had after his sexy statement. His tongue skimmed over the seam of my mouth, canines digging into the flesh of my bottom lip as he gave me that final push back onto the bed, lowering me down with a steady hold on my back until I was flush against the mattress with him hovering above me. Mouths lavished over one another, pulling the other into each other as far as our bodies would let us until the lack of oxygen forced me to pull away for a moment.

I wasted no time in pulling the white shirt from his black dress slacks, untucking his usual orderly work clothes so I could dip my hand under the smooth material to feel his bare warmth against my fingers. Each little divot and bulge across his stomach only added to the arousal gathering between my legs, allowing my fingers to explore the clothed spaced with the image of him naked on my mind.

The thought of that alone drove me mad, thighs instinctively rubbing together to relieve some of the pent up pressure. But doing so only reminded me of the pants I still had clinging to the lower part of my legs, the tight and uncomfortable sticky feeling causing a slight bubble of irritation to well up within me.

“Bab-” I started, cut off by Tae’s lips roughly soothing over mine with a kiss deeper than the one before it. It was his mission to explore my mouth, delving deep inside to slide his tongue along mine in a dance for passion, not power. There was no struggle in the kiss, which was different - a good different that made my heart beat just a little bit harder for him.

“Sh, ignore the pants,” Taehyung whispered against my lips and I had to force down the eyeroll that almost surfaced at such a dismissive response.

As I was about to protest further, Tae parted from the kiss and pushed himself from the bed, kneeling down on the floor and pushing my legs up until they tucked up to my chest to expose my clothed core for his eyes to feast on. The tip of his tongue swiped across his lips before he dove down, pushing my panties out of the way to dip a finger shallowly into my sopping heat. I moaned softly, holding onto my ruined jeans with one hand and sneaking the other around to his head, intertwining my fingers in his soft, chestnut locks.

Without warning, Tae pushed his finger in to the knuckle and lowered his head to hungrily lap at my clip over my already soaked underwear, ripping a moan forcefully from my throat. He moaned in return, any noise that left my mouth only adding to his determination to work me up and get me as wet as inhumanly possible. He sped up his pace, curling the tip of his finger to stroke the pad of his fingertip along the rough patch at the top, the spot that made my mind go blank and left me a mumbling mess for him to please. He always knew how to hit the right place, each and every time together was spent as a new learning experience for him to map out and worship my body as I did his.

A few pumps later, Tae placed a sloppy, wet kiss along the inside of my thigh before adding a finger to the one already thrusting into my cunt at a moderate pace. The stretch burned despite how slender his fingers were, always filling me up nicely. Brushing against a particular spot deep within me, I was left gasping for air, tugging the strands at the top of his head as I attempted to buck my hips against his hand to meet each of his thrusts, my sopping pussy tembling around his fingers.

“Fuck, baby. You always take me so fucking well,” he praised, leaving a few stray kisses along my thigh to accompany the faster pace he’d set, working his fingers into me as if he could do it all fucking night long.

“Mmh, Tae,” I groaned, abandoning the grip on my legs to ground myself against the duvet underneath.

“What, baby? What do you want?” Rougher kisses were pressed into the length of my thigh and along my wet mound, tongue practically dancing everywhere but my clit to tease me.

“Tae-Tae, I want you in me. Please.”

Despite the urgency in my request, Tae peeked around my legs with a softened look, eyes kind as his body smile outshines the gloss of arousal painting his lips and chin.

“Yeah? Where do you want me, baby? Here?” He asked with a slide of his fingers across my g-spot, causing my thighs to quake as I fought off the softest hint of an orgasm. I nodded and begged him for his cock while he rubbed the remainder of my slick from his face and onto his sleeve, towering over me once again as he climbed up the bed once again, having stripped himself of his clothes. The heat returned to his gaze as he devoured my body with his eyes, not needed for me to be naked in order to let his imagination run wild. 

Leaving a soft kiss against my lips, he pushed back to sit on his knees and lifted my legs up until my feet rested against the top of his shoulder. The position we were in gave him the perfect view of my ruined panties, his eyes lit up with a heat unlike anything I’d ever seen from him before as he traced the material with his fingertip. 

“You want me to fuck a baby into you?” He asked, fighting the blush that creeped up his neck and into his ears as he stayed locked onto my clothed pussy. 

His words made me giddy, the thought of him fucking me and getting me pregnant with his child adding fuel to our very passionate fire. “Please, I want your baby, Tae,” I whined. He dragged his cockhead against my clothed core, earning a grunt from us both. With a push of my panties to the side and a gentle rock of his hips against my own, the entirety of his cock slid into me, walls protested the stretch his thick girth gave despite the prep, drawing a synchronized moan from us. 

“Oh fuck, babe,” I groaned, fisting the sheets beneath me as his grip aropund my legs tightened. He stilled when the last inch of his cock sank into me, the tremble in his breath telling me he felt the tightness in this position too. Without warning, he dragged his hips back, exposing everything but the tip of his cock before he quickly thrusted back in. 

He continued his languid pace while pressing open kisses to my foot just beneath the hem of the jeans, nails raking against the flesh of my thigh before his eyes flickered down to me. 

I gasped when he adjusted the angle of his hips and targeted my g-spot without miss, setting a punishing pace with his hips as he suddenly drove his cock into me roughly. I moaned out, teeth capturing my bottom lip to contain the sounds his actions were tearing from my throat. 

With a grunt, Tae switched our positions, lowering himself down until his shoulders nestled in the hollow of my knees, face ducking down to pull my lips into a kiss as he resumed his powerful thrusts into my aching pussy.

The new position had every part of my body humming in happiness, the surface of my flesh tingling with each thrust he gave until my eyes shut. Our lips danced together, tongues stealing tastes of one another as the little sounds we made were muted by the other. I fisted a hand in his sweaty hair, using the brunette strands to ground me against his assault against my hips. I tried to meet his thrusts, but the awkward position left me lying there, unable to move, as I took his cock as he gave it. 

I tightened around him, loving the way I felt every ridge of his thick length as it disappeared from my cunt and pushed back inside to hit me in all the right places. After so many thrusts against that spot deep within me, a pressure built up in my lower stomach that burned, growing in size with each pump of his cock until I whined, needing pressure on my clit to push me over that final edge.

Knowing exactly what I wanted, he snuck a hand between us and used the slick on my thighs to wet his thumb before swiping rigorously against my sensitive clit. I mewled in pleasure at the contact, throwing my head back and parting our lips as loud whines and moans leaked from my mouth. It was almost too much, the combination of his hand and his cock throwing me over the edge faster than I could ever get myself off, pushing me over that ledge and into my orgasm. 

I mumbled incoherently as my spasming cunt only drove Taehyung to ride out into his own orgasm, continuing his brutal pace until his cock twitched and stilled inside me, filling me to the brim with his seed.

We stayed that way for a few minutes, taking the time to catch our breaths and return to reality. My body protested him pulling his limp cock from my oversensitive hole, making me grimace. When he pulled back and released my legs from his grip, I groaned at the stiffness in my legs from being in that position for a while, but completely forgot about that as goosebumps fluttered over my skin and brought my attention back down to the soaked jeans I still had on my body. 

Taehyung noticed my shivering and gave a small laugh, deciding to help me out and finally rip each of the legs until the material wasn’t too tight to remove. Sticking to the stripping, I took off my top and unclasped my bra, flinging both across the room to deal with later as Tae stood at the edge of our bed, between my legs. His eyes locked onto the cum dripping from my pussy and he couldn’t contain a grin as he reached forward and swiped a drop up onto his finger to push it back inside of me. 

“Well, at least we’ll know for sure,” Tae murmured to himself. 

“Hm?” I hummed, reaching out with grabby hands for him to come join me on the bed, which he did with a soft smile and a peck to the nose.

“I’ve always assumed we can’t have kids. I guess now we’ll figure out whether I was right or wrong.”

[fave-bts-fics]

101 Ways To Put Out A Fire

BY: infires (infires_man)

SHIP: NAMGI

WORD COUNT: 5887

CHAPTERS: 1

STATUS: COMPLETE

RATING: GENERAL

SUMMARY:

Kim Namjoon is an idiot who sets himself on fire - more than once.

Min Yoongi is angry but saves his life anyway - more than once. Even when he's not supposed to.

(Lab / College AU where Kim Namjoon is a struggling college student and Min Yoongi is...a grim reaper going through a hard time.)

[mchiimii]

Jamais Vu | BTS [Twenty-Six]

➜ Genre: Fantasy; Fanfiction

➜ Tags: fluff; angst; alternate universe; Alice in wonderland AU; flower shop AU; reincarnation; magic; soulmates AU

➜ Rating: Teen & Up Audiences (T)

➜ Pairing: BTS x Reader/Reader insert

➜ Warnings: swearing

➜ Word count: 2.4k

➜ Notes: Phew. This chapter has been in my drafts since the day I uploaded the 25th. Anyway, hope you liked it! The upcoming chapters might be a little heavy so brace yourselves for the rollercoaster. There are still many stories to tell and unravel and I think this will be a great opportunity to delve into Yuna's previous lives and encounters with the guardians.

I'll explain the rest next time so see you there!

Coma-Trance

ᵐ ˡᶦˢᵗ | ᵖʳᵉᵛⁱᵒᵘˢ | ⁿᵉˣᵗ

"A shadow?"

Jimin and Taehyung nodded.

"Then why didn't you stop it?" Seokjin interrupted.

After the oracle received a call from the goblin, the wingless angel and the former moon rabbit persuaded the sandman of the red kingdom to gather at the Magic Shop's lobby in the mortal realm. The six of them occupied the spacious interior to discuss the matters they need to resolve.

"We were unsure at first because we might have mistaken it as someone else." Jimin continued, "I was busy welcoming the guests to know it fully. Taeh already left the tea house to guard the shop instead when suddenly—"

"—An ambulance came to take her mother to the hospital," Taehyung interrupted abruptly.

"So you just watched her?" Hoseok sat on the sofa of the Magic Shop's lounge between Namjoon and Jungkook. He crossed his arms over the other and rolled his eyes frustratingly. He should have been in his kingdom doing his chores when the White King and the Reaper called him for an unexpected mission. It seems like the dream guardian is starting to feel impatient with all the heavy workloads.

"Yes. We did," Taehyung blurted. "But, I don't think it's necessary to interfere with her fate just yet." he shrugged.

Jimin agreed as he sat on the sofa near the center table. "Plus, if the shadow wasn't Yeomra's, then why was there a mishap?"

"That's true." Taehyung sat between Jimin and Seokjin before leaning on his back while fiddling with the emerald ring on his pointer finger. "If it didn't radiate intense negative energy, I wouldn't say it was his shadow. But it did."

"Bottom line is, you assumed it was his," Namjoon mused, "Which I think is hypothetically correct, considering that it might have brought an ill-fated omen. Were there any hints that you could've missed before we track her down?"

Jimin hummed, "A woman accompanied her to the hospital. Probably a witness."

"Or someone Yuna knows," everyone looked at the guardian who was silent the whole time. Jungkook exchanged glances with the five of them quizzically. He cleared his throat and then uttered another word that is enough to support the goblin's speculation.

"One of her friends could be the witness," Jungkook added, "If we want more answers, we should interrogate them."

Namjoon snapped his fingers, "Alright. We can assign an appropriate task for each of us. Someone who can interrogate the witness and track down Yeomra."

"Wait, you forgot something." Namjoon glanced at Jimin.

"Should we also look for Yuna?"

Hoseok laughed. "Didn't you hear? That seraph brought her to God knows where."

"Yoongi has her too..." Jungkook's doe eyes sharpened at the thought of the Cheshire cat. He scoffed once he broke the gaze he shared with the other guardians.

"But, shouldn't you also be capable of knowing her wellbeing? She's your maiden, remember?"

"Nah, I bet that pussycat knows a lot about her. I wouldn't be surprised if he knows something we don't know, especially if he meddles with the deities daily." Hoseok bitterly spat with a scornful expression.

Seokjin rolled his eyes at the Red King's insensitive tone. With a deep exhale, he glanced at the uninterested grim reaper with a light smile. "When it's something that concerns the human, it's either you or the Cheshire cat. Now that she's your maiden, you have no other choice but to take over the task that she's involved with."

"Can we all finalize the agreement already? I have more things to do."

"At least be nice for once?" Jimin questioned the Red King who happened to flick his middle finger at the flower guardian.

Jimin tightened his fists and was ready to haul an aggressive action when Taehyung held his arm to stop him from starting a fight with the embodiment of wrath. The flower goblin softened his grip and composure to ignore the Red King instead.

"Confronting the deities is the least he can do," Taehyung said as he was referring to the grim reaper. "If it's about rebellion, then it's Jungkook."

"Maybe if you could be more open-minded, try to re-think the situation, and be less impulsive with your actions," Jimin added.

"Easy for you to say."

"Well," Namjoon chimed in, "This isn't the right time to be petty. Unless you all want to perish in Underland."

Hoseok scoffed, "Which side are you on?"

"Neither. I didn't call you here to provoke us so stop with this bullshit."

The Red King pushed his tongue in his inner cheek with his mouth slightly open when Namjoon glared at him. Instead of bullying one of the guardians again, he fondled his rings in boredom.

"The least we can do is confront the higher-ups to defeat the vengeful spirit. It will be difficult if we don't."

The rest agreed except Hoseok and Jungkook. Namjoon looked at the youngest to see if he agrees but still had no response. The oracle called his name again and that's when Jungkook finally responded. He simply hummed with no follow-up remark and dared not to utter a word to finally end the meeting.

Nonetheless, each of them was given an assignment. As expected, Yoongi will be in the Hanok village with the deities where the human is currently recovering. Jungkook will be visiting them while Taehyung and Jimin will be at the hospital to interrogate the witness. On the other hand, Seokjin, Namjoon, and Hoseok agreed to find Yeomra—well, partially on Hoseok's side because he insisted on protecting Wonderland.

Although he's the most powerful yet the weakest, Namjoon refrained from arguing with him again. Perhaps, it would be best if a guardian stays in their realm to look over the kingdom and the spirits.

After all, guarding their realm will prevent another mishap from happening.

Meanwhile in the Hanok Village...

The camellia flowers twinkled and bloomed in the morning. A jacket of snow embraced its body; its petals smiled brightly at the rising sun. March has arrived yet the chilly, dry winter season stayed in the first week of the month. Maybe by April, the spring flowers will blossom in the morning. A variety of blooms will replace the colors of the meadows; creatures will traverse the captivating platform. The whole season will be decorated with floristry and flamboyance.

That is if the curse never prevailed.

With the situation at hand, springtime will be delayed to make time for the withering season in the month of dispersion.

Snow flowers painted the pathway of the village. The striking hues grew prominent in the snow-covered village. Not all flowers charmed the visitors with their beauty because for a moment, the field of blooms had one particular sprout that looked dull and almost lifeless.

"Is she alright?"

The feline crawled just beside the unconscious female on the bed. The Cheshire cat frowned at the sight of the helpless human. He softly touched her face with his paws to caress her gently. Yoongi glanced back at the seraph with eyes glowing green. He asked him a question again but the angel could not answer him.

The fate deity hovered her hand over the human's face to spectate her wellbeing. She moved her hands around her features slowly, her fingertips glowing in pink. With a deep breath and a frown, Mari clicked her tongue and then shook her head. She glanced back at the cat and spoke.

"She has the oblivion curse."

Yoongi gazed back at the human with the softest expression he could muster, "Yeomra probably hexed her."

The wealth deity groaned as she bitterly locked eyes with her sister. Who knew that a simple modification of the fate string could lead to an awful turn? "Look what you did. You made her life miserable. If her soul avenges, she won't enter the Afterlife."

The deities of nature started tattling and muttering words enough for the fate deity to hear. Mari, on the other hand, decided to ignore them by watching the human sleep peacefully despite the noises.

"I hope the gods ban her from using her magic."

"Why not ban her from entering the gates of heaven instead? After all, she deserves it."

"Hey, isn't that a little harsh? You might get banned too for speaking ill to her."

The flower deity suddenly stepped forward to look at the injured human. She did the same thing with her magic to check her state. However, when the growing noises from the bickering deities grew loud, she flicked her wrist and ceased her magic for a moment.

"Enough!"

She glared at the three squabbling goddesses of wealth, river, and mountain respectively.

"We came here to help the human not noise around for a petty quarrel. If you all want a place to pick up a fight, then leave this place immediately."

Once the noises completely died down and silence finally reigned in the room, the flower deity received an apology before she continued what she was doing.

She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. Once her hands gleamed white, she opened her eyes and began rising from the ground. As her magic comes to a halt, the deity could not overlook the human's situation when she already had a glimpse of Yuna's fate. Her feet touched the ground softly and she was brought to the present once again.

"She won't be waking up soon." the flower deity looked at Yoongi with a small frown contorting her face.

"Yuna's under coma-trance, a state of prolonged slumber. The memories she will encounter becomes a hindrance to entering her present conscience. We cannot fully determine the length of her slumber because once she embarks on the pieces of her past, her soul will transfigure into a different character. She needs more time to recuperate her physical and mental well-being by venturing into the memory lane."

"How did this happen?"

"It's..." the fate deity looked at the cat with a worn expression on her face.

"It's because of the Smeraldo flower and the Tree Memoir. The flower recuperates her from the oblivion curse while the tree reminds her of the memories she once held. These memories are connected to her previous lives when she encountered the guardians before or after the divine punishment. The memory lane gives enough time for the recuperation."

Yoongi looked down at the female's face. He rested his paw on her face again and sighed. If she's experiencing slumber, then that could be one thing. He's the dream guardian, maybe he can do something with ensuring her safety if he couldn't stop the trance.

"Then I'll enter the dream realm."

The deities looked at him concerningly. The fate and the flower goddesses heaved a deep breath before interrogating him.

"You cannot simply intervene with her subconscious or else she won't make it on time!" the wealth deity interrupted.

"I'm willing to accompany her."

"But you're not her maiden. A simple lip contract is not enough." another deity spoke.

"Who says I'll do a contract?" Yoongi's eyes gleamed green again as he was ready to jump off the bed to leave. "If I can't interfere with the events, then she won't be my maiden. She can't call my name for help even when she's in danger."

"Then what will you do?" the mountain goddess asked.

"I'll be there if she wants someone to talk to."

"Someone, to talk to? Are you crazy?" the river deity laughed. "You can't interact with her or else things will only make it hard for her."

"Actually..." the fate deity spoke, "He can interact with her before she enters a new world. The coma-trance allows you to stay in the memory hub to rest for a moment. Yoongi may stay there with her but he cannot give any clues related to the memory she will encounter, especially if he suddenly remembered something."

"Look who's talking. Thanks to you, a lot of misfortunes happened." the wealth deity argued. "It's not a reasonable excuse." she eyed the cat with a stern look, "What is even the difference between talking to her versus waiting for her? Either way, you can't protect her."

The flower deity nodded, "She has a point. Entering the dream realm will be risky for both of you. You can't simply interact with her because you want to. Attachments may change the flow of events. It will affect the way she deals with her stories."

For a second, a pattern embroidered the clouds in the sky. The sun hid behind the overlooking patches of billowy clouds that gathered together. The wind blew a cold breeze the moment a visitor entered the village. From afar away, a towering man walked by the snowy pathway towards the entrance of the Hanok. He wore his usual headpiece, dark outfit, and combat shoes that made his steps loud. He approached the doorway with a cold demeanor after seeing the spirits of the immortal realm. With hands stuffed in his pockets, the grim reaper eavesdropped on their conversation.

Their noises grew audible and clear as he entered the room. Surprisingly, no one saw him lurking in the shadows to listen to their topic. The three deities' backs faced him while the seraph sat near the window. The two other goddesses stood beside the bed where the human slept peacefully. Consequently, the angel exchanged words with the cat on the bed to express his concerns.

Their unexpected visitor scuffed beside the three busy females where he can be easily recognized. The river deity felt a sudden shift in the atmosphere caused by the cold ambiance the grim reaper brought. She glanced to her side and gasped upon seeing the youngest guardian's arrival.

"Jungkook? What are you doing here?" Yoongi locked eyes with the grim reaper. The grim reaper disappeared for a moment before a blue, glittering smoke appeared in front of the two deities and the cat.

Yoongi looked surprised upon seeing the grumpy guardian settle his feet on the house of goddesses. He always held a grudge with them and seeing him up close in his dominating demeanor implied an unusual reason.

"I believe you came here solely for the human," he sat on the bed with eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Rest assured that she's safe but—"

"We need to talk."

Yoongi remained unfazed at his blunt remark. The goddesses started whispering again, something about the infamous guardian. Jungkook ignored them, still eyeing the feline on the bed.

"What do you want to talk about?" he chimed.

"I want to talk to you alone."

The Cheshire cat exchanged glances with the fate deity. After hearing Jungkook's response, he signaled Mari to leave along with her sisters and the angel.

That's when the plans mayhaps turned a little different for both of them.

ᵐ ˡᶦˢᵗ | ᵖʳᵉᵛⁱᵒᵘˢ | ⁿᵉˣᵗ

[thejaebeomchronicles]

exploring; love (masterlist)

Exploring; Love - the good, the bad, and the ugly.

a series exploring the different types of love; multifandom kpop imagines.

a/n:

hiya guys !! this is my first ever series posting on tumblr !! I’m super excited to share this with you. these fics will have a mixture of fluff, smut, and angst. I will post them individually and then will tag them here. I should be able to post the very first one this weekend !! If you would like to be added to the taglist, let me know :) ♡

* ⠀༷⠀⠀ྃ⠀⋆ * ⠀༷⠀⠀ྃ * ⠀༷⠀⠀ྃ⠀⋆ * ⠀༷⠀⠀ྃ * ⠀༷⠀⠀ྃ⠀⋆ * ⠀༷⠀⠀ྃ * ⠀༷⠀⠀ྃ⠀⋆ * ⠀༷⠀⠀ྃ

01. just search for me / rock star!jaebeom x deaf!reader

          the love that ended too early.

          “If she were never to hear him again, then she’d rather not hear at all.”

02. to the stars that listen / non-idol!yunho x ghost!reader

          the love that you have to let go.

          “when I die, bury me in roses.”

03. how to re-enter society / ex-mafia!shownu x movie theater worker!reader 

          the love that changes someone for the better.

          “you were so selfish, but I wanted you to be selfish about me.”

04. she remains in the rain / grim reaper!namjoon x human!reader

          the love that takes everything from you.

          “when it’s raining, that’s the only time I get to see you.”

05. saints and sinners / witch!jinyoung x witch!reader

          the love that is forbidden. 

          “her attitude reminisced hellfire while she tasted too holy for his sinner lips.”

06. how I never saw you again / goody two shoes! jungkook x delinquent!reader

          the love that teaches you a lesson. 

          “falling in love with you only ends up in more pain than pleasure.”

07. grief group anonymous / non-idol!mark lee x reader

          the love that mends the grief.

          “being with you helps me not be so fucking sad all the time.”

08. I told you to delete my number / artist!changkyun x dancer!reader

          the love that rekindles.

          “I haven’t painted a single goddamn thing since the night you left.”

taglist: