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ssscentral · 3 years

Text

Devil like you

Summary: Your boyfriend has a revelation about who - or what - he really is as he invites over a friend to have some earth-shattering, toe-curling, out of this world fun with you.

Pairing : Demon!Namjoon x Reader x Demon! Jimin

Genre : Smut. Pure filth. It be dirty.

Warnings : Threesome, Demon summoning, Overstimulation, Swearing, Restraints, Surprise your boyfriend is a demon, Dom!Namjoon, Dom!Jimin, Sub!Reader, Light Edging, Dirty Talking, Oral Sex (f and m), Fingering

WC : 5.5k

Member : Duda || @biaswreckme

A/N : Hope you enjoy reading this, i’m quite proud of it :v It’s my first AU for BTS, so be gentle T.T This fic is the second part of the group prompt “Hell of a Ride”, each part with our own interpretation, so stay tuned because there is more to come! Any similarities with Supernatural are not coincidental, thank you Spn wikis for the words in Latin and the inspiration for some of the abilities of these demons. And thanks so much @fluffy-fluffu for being the beta ♥

taglist: @sugasbabiie

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You thought you should have known. You thought you should have seen the signs – and there were quite a few, thinking back on your relationship. It should not have surprised you like this. It should not have affected you like this. It should not make you wish for more, waiting for the next time it would happen. It should not… you should not… you should not want this as much as you did, right?

You should have seen it coming. It should not have caught you off guard like that, after all, who teaches this language with this much ease and what seems like almost natural and native knowledge? That should have been the first sign to strike your attention. He was not the first Latin professor in the language department at this university, but he was the best. But this department has a lot of languages, and Latin is part of the curriculum for some of the other languages. It was not weird to have a Latin professor. It was weird to have someone as hot as Namjoon teaching Latin. Hot, gods, you sound like a teenager again talking about boys and crushes. But yes, Kim Namjoon, one of the hottest teachers in the university – and it is a big one – teaches a dead language.

So when he asked you, the English teacher – not the only one in the department and you did not consider yourself to be one of the best-looking teachers there – out on a date, you said yes. It had been a while for you, issues with an ex left you being cautious about entering new relationships. It made you pay more attention to certain red flags, but there were none with Namjoon, at least not like those from before.

Kim Namjoon was considerate. Kim Namjoon was creative with his dates. Kim Namjoon was a romantic man, one that had you indeed feeling like a teenager dating for the first time, sneaking around the empty halls and classrooms, the butterflies in your stomach wild and making you giggle at the mere thought of him. Kim Namjoon paid attention to you and your problems. Kim Namjoon listened. And Kim Namjoon was great when it came to sex. Great actually did not really translate how incredible and mind-blowing sex with him was. He knew how to do things to your body like no one ever could before. He suggested some things – some kinky, oh, very kinky things indeed – to spice up the sex that you had only fantasized about but never had the courage to ask for, and he did not judge anything. It was almost as if his mission in bed was to give you utmost pleasure, even if it hurt sometimes – but it always hurt so good. Kim Namjoon was the perfect boyfriend. Maybe too perfect, so you think to yourself that you had ought to know better. No one could be this perfect. There had to be an explanation. And there was. You just never would have imagined that it would be this explanation.

The day had started just like any other, there was nothing special about it, at least to your knowledge. So why, oh, why did it have to be on this day? (Maybe you could ask them later.) You woke up to your alarm, as usual. You love your job, but you always found it difficult to get up this early in the mornings, so you always made sure to set more than one alarm. You got up, had breakfast – “breakfast” is a very general word, but you do eat a piece of toast while the coffee machine warms up. You had a shower, just a quick one to truly wake you up and get you going before getting dressed in your usual teaching outfit. Namjoon would be coming over later, so you would have time to shower again and get dressed up for date night after getting back from the university. You grab a travel mug on the way out, pouring the hot coffee in it, the smell invading your apartment just as you like it.

The classes go on without any issue; a slight problem with the projector in the beginning but nothing out of the ordinary and that would strike one’s attention, especially if one was used to dealing with the projectors in that older building the languages and literature department was stuck with. You crossed paths with Namjoon once the entire day, walking down the hallways of the old building; you were getting out of an English literature class, Joon going to teach his Latin II group. As your bodies got closer, both of you nodded in acknowledgment as if you were any other professor, but your hands discreetly touched in passing, just a small sign you had agreed on to let the other know everything is okay, have a good class, I love you, I will be waiting for you later. You knew he was going out on a field trip with an advanced class and he would have to leave during lunch, so you ate a sandwich in your office, watching some comedy series to relax and get energized for the rest of the day – of course, the hot and new cup of coffee helps -, every once in a while, pausing to chat with the other professor who chose to do something similar. The afternoon is not really that different from other Friday afternoons; no one usually comes during office hours, so no one came on this day. You spent your time alternating between counting the minutes on the ticking clock to be able to go home and get ready for the date and responding to some emails, starting the term report, and downloading some articles to read. You were alone in the office, so you have some music going to help distract you and try to make the time go by faster.

When you finally got home the first thing you did was hop on the shower again, but now taking some time for yourself, phone blasting your favorite songs as you washed the day away from your body, cleaning, shaving what you wanted, moisturizing with some shower oils Namjoon gave you and that you know he loved the scent of. You spent some time choosing your outfit for the evening, knowing it had to be good. You opted for a white lace and silk playsuit, the new lingerie that Namjoon had recently given you, and you knew it had to be expensive from the brand – expensive and fancy lingerie was a guilty pleasure you had that somehow Namjoon was able to indulge, and you had no complaints about it. It gave you an almost innocent look under the black dress, and you were curious to see Namjoon’s reaction. You did not do much for hair and makeup, choosing instead to keep it quite simple and natural – it was only going to be ruined later on anyways.

Soon you heard the bell ring and you looked at the small monitor near the door, letting him in. His hair was slicked back, giving him an edge that was not present in day-to-day life at university. He had his earrings on and paired up with his silver-rimmed glasses and that black blazer made him look unbelievably hot and so different from the pristine almost clumsy-like image of Professor Kim. He kissed you, murmuring a hi in the kiss, letting his hands roam over your dress. He paused and stepped back enough to look at you.

“Are you wearing the new gift?”

It only took a nod from you to have him pressing you against the wall, hitching your leg up and around his waist. His hands took advantage of the position and touched your skin, going up your thighs and bunching up your dress in the way, giving him access to feel the lace and silk on your body.

“Fuck,” he paused, almost breathless, “fuck the reservation, right? I need you now.”

You nodded in affirmation, almost as out of breath as him, “Fuck the reservation, fuck me instead.”

He didn’t need anything else to press you even harder against the wall, hoisting both of your legs; you wrapped them around his body, and he pushed his hips into yours, you could feel how hard he already was. You moaned into the kiss, his hardness was right against where you needed it the most, and when he started slightly moving his hips into yours, it made his length deliciously drag against your clit. The feeling was also enhanced by the lingerie; every time Namjoon canted his hips up, it made the lingerie move up together and tug on your skin, and it did not take long until it was snugged between your nether lips and you were certain you were staining the front of Namjoon’s pants with your wetness as he started nibbling on your earlobe, sucking and kissing your neck, the skin caught between his teeth to make sure it would leave bruises. And then he let you go, dropping your legs from around his body.

“Do you trust me?” He looked into your eyes, seeming unsure, which was unlike him. You could swear that his eyes got darker for a brief moment – and not in the way writers usually describe, with eyes darkening with pleasure or something akin to that. No, it seemed that they physically turned darker, almost black, but you thought you must be imagining things. It could not be humanly possible.

“I trust you, Joon.” You said without any hesitation, fingers entangling with his and taking him in the direction of your bedroom.

He started by taking off his glasses and carefully putting them on the wooden nightstand, taking a minute to take off his blazer and carefully drape it over the piece of furniture. He then turned to you and you felt nervous, his walk almost predatory towards you. He gripped your shoulders, taking the straps of your dress into his hands, and it felt like he was considering just ripping the piece out of your body and your breath faltered. So this was the mood today. But he must have thought better and let his hands caress the front of your body, squeezing your breasts, his fingers then gliding over your clothed nipples, feeling them harder under his touch. His hands moved down, grabbing the edge of your dress in his fists and then lifted it up and off your body, and then you were there, standing in front of him, the white lace and silk that covered your skin seemed almost virginal when contrasted with the current mood. You bit your lip, looking at Namjoon, gaging his reaction, and you saw his eyes widen, a smirk crossing his lips, his tongue unconsciously poking out to lick his top lip. There was a different look in his eyes, one that you did not recognize at all, and you were getting slightly more nervous now. What did he have in store for you this time? You tried to think back to conversations you had, discussing ideas in between cuddles and kisses on the bed, after one of the times you had some passionate lovemaking, his eyes glued to yours the entire time, his body encompassing yours, protecting you. Not every time was kinky, but there was no doubt tonight was going to be. You took a deep breath and stepped forward, your fingers going to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one, slowly, your fingers shaking in anticipation.

“Remember when we were talking about maybe having another person in the bedroom with us?”

His question took you by surprise, your fingers stopping mid-action, and you looked at him. “Yes?”

“You are going to learn some things about me tonight, Y/n, but you don’t need to be scared.” He grabbed your hands, intertwining your fingers and kissing them while looking into your eyes. “I promise everything will be okay, and I’ll answer all your questions later. Now I just want you to enjoy yourself.”

And ok, now you were worried, and he could see that in your face, so he brought you closer to his body, hugging you, and your arms tightened around his body.

“You don’t have to be scared, love. It can be scary, but have I ever hurt you?”

“Well…” you started, giggling at the double possibilities to answer his question.

“I’m talking about real harm, Y/n. And might I remind you, who asked to be spanked again?” He chuckled, shaking his head, the mood getting a little lighter. “I can’t promise it’s not going to frighten you at first but keep an open mind. You have your safeword, you can stop this at any time, no matter what.”

“Ok. I can’t promise I won’t fear whatever it is… because you are scaring me a little bit, Joon. But I trust you. I know you won’t hurt me like that.” You raised your head from where it was resting on his chest, looking into his eyes again, and this time you could not be mistaken. They were black. Like black black; you could not see any of the previous colors in his irises, even the sclera was taken over by the color, and it hit you. You took a quick step back, letting go of his body, shocked. Was… was this real?

“I’m still me,” his voice was soft and his hands raised by his sides in that universal sign of I’m not going to hurt you. “It’s always been me.”

“So you’re not… possessed?” you laughed in disbelief.

“No. It’s always been me,” he repeated, taking one step closer to you with one of his hands reaching out, and hesitantly you grabbed it. “Let me show you. I promise you will have a good time.”

Your body was still shaking with fear when you let yourself get closer to him, but his words were starting to reassure you, calm you. If he had always been like this and never harmed you, you would be okay, right? The fear and worry were slowly starting to give way to curiosity and some slight confusion when he started muttering some words under his breath. Now, you did not understand Latin – it was a dead language, come on –, but you were able to pick up that he was almost chanting in it, words like te invoco, spiritus, infernalis, and daemon being spoken with more intensity. He finished saying it and kissed you deeply, his arms encircling your body and pulling you to him, when you suddenly felt another presence behind you, a second body pressing against you, feeling a hard chest pressing you into Namjoon even more. You stopped the kiss, looking over your shoulder, and your eyes stumbled upon another black-eyed figure. This man, this demon, was shorter than Namjoon, but with the way the front of his body was glued to your back, you could feel he was just as muscular, maybe even more, from what you were feeling from his thighs. There were no words for his face. You thought Namjoon was handsome, but this man’s face was on a whole other level of beauty, with those rounded full lips that would give Namjoon’s a run for their money. If it were not for his black eyes you would dare say his face was angelic even, with his light-colored hair parted in the middle. But something about the smirk and raised eyebrows let you know that there was nothing angelic about him.

“Damn, Namjoon. You’ve been hiding her this entire time?” He almost growled, shifting his hips, and you felt the hardness in his pants. “If I’d known, I’d have come sooner.”

“And this is Jimin, Y/n,” he started, scoffing at his… friend? “Now close your eyes and let us take care of you.”

He did not wait for an answer from you, and at the same time his lips found yours, you felt Jimin’s lips on your neck and his hands on your waist, and you could only sigh, close your eyes, and give into these new sensations. The two pairs of hands were roaming your body; the contrast of their clothed bodies against yours, almost naked, was heightening the sensation of your powerlessness, and you had to press your thighs together in an attempt to bring some pressure to your center and relieve some of the aching. You could feel their smirks when you did it, and then Jimin’s hand traveled downwards and on the front of your body, his fingers sneaking under the lingerie to feel your wetness.

“Fuck,” his voice was almost strained, “she’s dripping, Namjoon.” His fingers went all over your mound spreading your wetness around, careful to not touch you for too long to tease you.

“Is this right, Y/n?” Namjoon asked against your lips, then tilted his head back to look at you, his hand joining Jimin’s. “I know you get wet for me, but if I had known you would be dripping like this, I would have brought Jimin much sooner.” He stated as his fingers toyed with the straps of your playsuit, slowly lowering them. “And you are wearing this, today of all days… all in white…”

Namjoon’s fingers teased your nipples lightly at first, just caressing them while Jimin slowly lowered the lingerie down your body, giving open-mouthed kisses to your back and lower and he went down on his knees behind you. You closed your eyes, letting your head fall back and grabbing Namjoon’s biceps for balance when Jimin lifted your left feet first then the right, letting the playsuit fall to the ground off your body. You felt a pinch to your nipples, and you sighed, and shortly after you felt his tongue circling it, then his mouth sucking on it, tugging lightly with his teeth. You clenched your legs again, only for Jimin to spread them. You felt Jimin’s breath on your backside, and his hands made you arch your back so he could see you better from behind, but you felt nothing else but his warm breath very close to your center, his hands gripping your thighs from the inside to stop you from closing them. When Namjoon used the fatal combination of pinching down on a nipple harder and biting the other and sucking on it, Jimin chuckled.

“Do that again, Namjoon. She liked it, she just clenched down on nothing so hard.” His mouth was so close to you yet doing nothing, and to worsen the situation, he used his hands to help you spread your legs more. “Tilt your ass towards me, Y/n, I want to see you clench like that again.”

You did so without hesitation, arching your back more so he could see you better, and when Namjoon did it again, inverting touch and bite to the other nipple, you clenched again, needing their touch, needing something. And he combined pulling your nipple with his teeth with his other hand entangling in your hair and pulling it down hard, increasing your arch. You heard Jimin chuckle softly again and then his mouth was pressed to your inner thigh, licking upwards as he moaned, probably tasting the wetness that had started dripping. Namjoon was not being gentle anymore, using the amount of pressure and strength he knew you loved, much rougher than when you were making love, your nipples becoming more sensitive and abused under his ministrations. This moment, with his lips around your nipples, his teeth worrying them, while Jimin licked your thighs, was pure and unadulterated passion and desire. You let one of your hands fall to grab Jimin’s hair to try and direct him, but he let one of your thighs go to wrap his fingers around your wrist while he bit down on your thigh. You moaned in pain, but you loved it.

Your other hand moved from Namjoon’s biceps to the front of his shirt to undo the few buttons that were left, and he paused what he was doing to help you. When you went to unbutton his pants, you felt your arm being pinned to your back by the demon between your legs. You looked back and down, seeing Jimin licking his lips again while he got up. He pulled you against his body, murmuring that tonight was about you and not to worry about them. As he said these words, Namjoon’s long fingers undid his own pants, hooking them under his underwear to take them off at the same time. His erection slapped softly against his stomach, his cock long and thick, the bulbous head already a little wet with precum. He stepped out of his pants, his strong thighs flexing, and he came closer to kiss you again, letting you feel his hardness against your belly. He started to pull you towards the bed, turning your bodies so you could fall against the mattress with him on top, but he did not stay long. He got up, looking at Jimin, and raised his eyebrows.

“You look so innocent like this, wide-eyed looking at us about to devour you,” Jimin started, unbuttoning his shirt slowly, putting on a show for you.

The dark shirt Jimin was wearing opened to reveal toned muscles beneath, ones you had already felt against your back. His light purple hair was slightly messy from your attempt to grab it; his lips were turned up into a corner smile observing the way you were watching him. He let his hands caress down his body, feeling his own muscles, his luscious lips open now. One of his hands went to the button of his pants and the other grabbed his crotch, showing you the outline of his erection, and then he took the black garment off, and he was wearing no underwear. His hand went to his erection again, stroking himself up and down slowly, showing you his body and how proud he seemed of it. His cock was just as beautiful as the rest of him, the head a light pink color, and while he was thinner than Namjoon, he was just as long and curved upwards, and it made you wonder if he could hit that spot without much effort.

“We are going to destroy you, and you will take it all. You will be lying there on the bed, ruined, a sinner, and in the end, you will be begging for me to come back again and wreck you.” Jimin’s voice was deeper, his black eyes shining under the lights and the promise. And then he looked at Namjoon. “Have you done it yet?”

You looked confused for a moment, especially when Namjoon answered a no and Jimin chuckled. And then you understood. Jimin snapped his fingers and your arms were suddenly above your head, pressed on the pillow. You tried moving them but to no avail. Oh. Your chest went up and down quickly, your breath faster, but you smiled.

“Oh, this is new. Can you do it too, Joon?” You needed to know. Had he been hiding this from you this whole time? He licked his lips and snapped his fingers, and then your legs were up, an invisible force holding them up and wide open, spread apart for them. You bit your lip and clenched down on nothing, moaning softly, your head thrown back into the pillow. “This is fun.”

You smiled at them and saw them looking at each other smiling as well, but you could not even imagine what was going through their minds. Could they communicate like that? You had so many questions to ask Joon later, but before your mind could wander any further, your body was being dragged to the edge of the bed by Jimin, who was kneeling on the floor in front of it. You had never felt so exposed before and so without control, although you knew all you had to say was that one word and everything would end.

“She tastes delicious, Jimin. You’re going to love it.” Namjoon sat by you on the bed, looking down at the other man, and lowered his head to whisper in your ear, “you want to know another thing I’ve been hiding? We don’t get tired.”

Namjoon bit your earlobe at the same time that Jimin licked you where you needed the most, from bottom to top. You could only moan loudly and arch your back, your fingers closing into tight a fist and your thighs clenching, but you could not move them. You thought he would make you beg for it, considering all the teasing from before, but he wasted no time and started applying pressure to your clit with his soft tongue, short circular movements alternated with longer licks while his fingers kept your lower lips spread open for him. Unable to move, all you could do was take it, the pleasure intensified by your inability to move your legs; there was no escape from Jimin’s tongue on the underside of your clit, its hood up, leaving it exposed and so sensitive to his probing. While Jimin was doing this, Namjoon began playing with your nipples again. They were already hard and a little red from before, more sensitive, so when he started pinching them again the pain seemed to go straight down to your clit, enhancing your pleasure, and he seemed to know this. He became relentless in teasing them, pinching harder, lowering his body beside you to bite at them, tugging on your nipples and pulling them, letting his teeth scrape against the sensitive skin. Jimin’s tongue was also relentless on your clit, and the first time he felt you getting close to your orgasm, he stopped and looked at you.

“Please, please…” you sobbed and moaned; the desperation clear in your voice as Namjoon did not stop.

“Should we see if she can cum only by teasing her nipples?” Jimin’s voice was playful.

“No, please, please, no, please,” you begged.

“Oh, Namjoon, she begs so beautifully. But is it a no or is it a please, do it?” His tongue was between his teeth, his smile wider now, the look on his face pure teasing. You shook your head negatively, a sob caught in your throat, but he continued, “You’re clenching again, Y/n. I think you can do this. But maybe another day,” you let out a sigh in relief, “another day, when we will tease you for hours, edge you until even our breath will make you cum, how about that?”

Jimin wasted no more time and got back to licking you, making out with your pussy, encompassing it entirely with his mouth, and the moment his lips closed around your clit to suck it, you lost it. It took you by surprise; the sensation usually begins with a slight tingle on your belly, and then it spreads to your fingers, but this time your whole body clenched as pleasure overtook you, his tongue continuing to press on your clit while he sucked to prolong your orgasm. You did not know what sounds came out of your mouth, as your ears seemed to be ringing, numb to sounds. You could barely murmur out a weak stop, but he ignored it – which also relieved you, you did not really want to stop–, choosing to insert a finger and then two into you, moving them in and out at first and then pressing them upwards, looking for the spot inside you that made you see stars. You were about to say you were too sensitive for him to continue when he found it, and as you moaned loudly you heard Namjoon say something to him, but you couldn’t understand what it was, but Jimin’s response was to increase the pressure of his fingers and let your clit go. You were confused for a second but you soon understood when you felt one of Namjoon’s hands moving down, his fingers then making quick movements on your clit, knowing it was what you needed to get you there fast again. This time you felt the sensation growing, a tingling on the tips of your fingers, your toes, as it grew and permeated your entire body again. You thought they would relent, and then you remembered what Namjoon had said. They did not get tired.

You lost count after the fifth orgasm, or so you thought it was the fifth; your voice was hoarse from moaning and your clit was so sensitive from all of the overstimulation, and they did not seem like they wanted to stop anytime soon. You could feel the tears that had escaped your eyes wetting your cheeks, and every once in a while, one of them would lick them away while the other continued his assault on your clit, the pleasure relentlessly taking over you again and again. You did not know anymore when one orgasm ended and the other began, the tingling sensation a constant on your entire body. And then, finally, they snapped their fingers again, releasing your body from the invisible restraints.

You could barely move, but they helped shift and turn your body until you were on your hands and knees, Namjoon’s body behind you. You heard the sound of a small foil packet being opened, and then he was pressing inside you, his cock stretching you even though they had used their fingers before. It was always a stretch, Namjoon going in slowly, giving you time to adjust to his size before starting to thrust his hips into you. On his first thrust forward, you opened your mouth on a moan and Jimin took advantage of the opportunity to press his cock into your lips, holding your hair with one of his hands while the other was at the base of his cock, holding and moving it to go over your lips. You licked around his engorged head and then opened your mouth wider, taking him inside and sucking. You could barely keep your body upright, so soon your hands faltered, and you fell to your elbows, the dip in your spine changing the angle slightly and it had Namjoon pressing into that one spot that had you almost screaming. Jimin lowered his body, sitting down with his legs open to fit you between them, inclining his body backward, bending his elbows to have a good view of you, and it made it easier for you to suck him. His view was nice, your body bent forward, your ass being held by Namjoon’s hands while he pounded into you, but your view was not bad at all.

Jimin’s muscly thighs flexed each time he pressed his hips up, fucking into your mouth, his abs clenching, and his face… his face, dark black eyes half-closed, mouth open in a sly smile, licking his full lips still wet with your taste. You maintained eye contact while you sucked him, bobbing your head up and down, sucking hard when his head was about to leave your mouth, and when you went down, you let your tongue lick the underside. It was sloppy, saliva leaving your mouth, making him wetter and easier for your hand to help whatever did not fit your mouth. You were moaning around him, figuring he would like it as much as Namjoon did, and you were rewarded with high pitched moans from Jimin, his head now thrown back. On a hard suck downwards you felt his thighs clench and his release spill on your mouth at the same time Namjoon played with your clit, and you screamed and soon saw nothing else.

You did not know how long you were out, but when you came to your senses again you were lying on your front, covered by your blanket, and Jimin was nowhere in sight. You heard footsteps entering the room just when you raised your head and saw Namjoon with a cold bottle of water and pants on. He smiled tentatively at you, sitting by your side on the bed. He helped you sit, propped up against him, and you took the bottle from his hands, feeling thirsty.

“Hey,” his voice was almost shy, so different from before and from the usual Namjoon. Well, the Namjoon you thought you knew. “Are you ok?”

You nodded, smiling softly at him between sips. You looked around and then looked at him, the question clear in your eyes.

“Hm, Jimin’s gone now. He helped clean you up and left, we… we did not know if you wanted him here for the after. Or if at all. Or… if you still wanted me.”

It was strange, seeing this difference in him. Namjoon was so confident, especially in the bedroom, and after finding out the truth about him, you could not imagine he would ever be this timid.

“I still want you, Joon,” you could barely speak, but you wanted to reassure him, hugging him tightly. He needed you at this moment as much as you needed him. “I just have some questions, but I still love you.”

“I love you too, Y/n. And I’ll answer whatever you want.” He was eager to respond, his relief apparent in his voice.

“The first question is… can we have fun with Jimin again another time?”

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where-dreamers-go · 3 years

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James Conrad x Fem!Reader (Soulmate AU) Part One

(A/N: I wanted to experiment with another soulmate alternative universe. Predominantly in James’ point of view. This has been (slowly) in the works for a long while. Again, I went back to this now in 2021 when this was typed from a notebook in 2019. I kind of forgot about this one…my bad. So this is for @girl-next-door-writes Bingo Challenge~! Yeah, I know I have a few other insert readers that I’m working on, but this one was basically finished and I can’t believe I forgot about it. Part One, Erica? Yeah, I know...we get there when we get there. Bingo Card: Soulmates Warnings: Brief and vague mentions of people not surviving on Skull Island. Word Count: 3,246 words )

A world with ancient creatures long forgotten and slowly being remembered was an intricate puzzle. There were believers, those who were neutral, and those who spit negativity at the notion of something against their beliefs.

A society and world where soulmates could found one another on their own was exciting for the hopeful. Bioluminescent glow of the skin acted as a compass with one’s soulmate in place of North. A part of the body closest to the direction of one’s soulmate would glow. It could be the tip of a nose, an extended elbow, or any small pinpoint glow unless one’s soulmate was closer. The more near to one’s soulmate, the larger the glowing area.

✧ ✧ ✧

James’ skin never glowed more than the size of a small coin. He had traveled more than the average citizen. He had been a captain, Special Operations, but was a civilian once more as a hirable tracker. Yet agreeing to go aboard his last job changed everything. What he knew about the world and her creatures was altered. Skull Island was only a part of it all.

On top of being forced into Monarch’s containment and learning that there were other monsters out there around the world—his skin was glowing in large patches. It was distracting for himself and those with him. The others were getting quite interested and offering to help. As it had been glowing more noticeably since he and Mason were briefed on the ancient super species.

“I can handle it. Let’s stay on topic, shall we?” James asked, as he walked out of the concrete holding room.

“Are you sure? Because—,” the boy, Houston, swallowed his words at the quick glance from James. “Right.”

It was no secret that the two scientists, Houston Brooks and San Lin, found James’ glowing skin to be a big deal. Seeing someone’s skin glow about the size of their hand was nothing to ignore. Yet that was what James intended to do. There were larger situations to consider, especially as the two scientists took Mason and James to another area—finally—once they were on board.

“More of your skin is glowing,” said Mason, her voice hushed.

“I know.” James stated, but not as flatly as he intended to end the conversation.

“I wonder who it is,” Houston stated.

“Someone in Monarch definitely,” San added.

“Again, may we stay on topic?” James looked pointedly at each of his companions.

“Sorry.”

“Yes.”

He did not have a clear idea where they were being lead in the government building, but he did know it would lead to more information on the matters Monarch was involved in.

✧ ✧ ✧

Work had been left ignored, procrastinated for hours. Your eyes studying your own skin as its bioluminescence when you had walked through the compound and as you sat in your small office.

You were brought into Monarch almost a year ago with promises of knowledge and helping others. Your curiosity had sucked you in. It was a home, workplace, and life like no other. There were many surreal moments, definitely, considering ancient creatures not being just legends. Something a zoologist like yourself dove into researching.

You were happy. You had a purpose of helping others. The more you learned and researched, the more you felt actually fulfilled. Also, the more paperwork and notes you had pinned to the wall and filed onto your desk.

Seeing your skin’s soulmate glow broaden in size seemed more otherworldly than writing down a wingspan for Mothra.

Sighing, you rotated your forearm as the glow spread to your bicep.

This week just keeps getting more intense, you thought. First an expedition on Skull Island, now—

Knock knock

You quickly rolled down the sleeves of your shirt.

“Hey, (Y/N).” Houston walked in through the open doorway, “got a minute?”

“Sure.” You answered, standing from your seat.

Three more people walked into your office, one of which you recognized as San.

“May I help you?” You asked as you made an effort not to make any direct eye contact with the newcomers for at least a moment longer.

“Ah…” His eyes were on the man he had brought with him.

“Houston?”

He coughed before speaking and turning his attention elsewhere, “This is Mason Weaver—.”

“Hi.” Mason waved, a woman with dirty blonde hair.

“Hi,” you smiled and waved in return. The glow appearing out of your hand. You quickly tucked your hands behind your back. A glow then brightening your face.

“—And…this is James Conrad.”

“Hi.” The tall man swallowed dryly, his face and neck glowing warmly. Extremely obviously.

Oh, dear, you thought.

Clearly, out of everything that happened in the past week, he was not prepared for meeting his soulmate. Neither were you.

“Hi.” Your voice lacked the strength you were hoping to pull out of yourself for one second away from your work. Although it did not seem to hurt any of the introductions.

Quiet quickly took over your small office. Multiple pairs of eyes looked between you and the Mister Conrad. With your desk behind you, you were a cornered little mammal.

“So, what’s your job here?” Mason asked, breaking through the other’s silent stares.

“I’m a zoologist and here at Monarch I try to figure out how these species live—survive in their environments. Hoping to learn about their evolution and habits. Basically the animal kingdom.” You answered, your shoulders slacking some.

“She also has an interest in mythology, which is a great help to us,” Houston piped up.

“If I was more into cryptology it would make this a little more fun. If not give me a small head start when I first came here.”

“Speaking of head start…How much time do you think we have?” Mason asked.

“Time… Uh. Considering we survived this long as a species, how technology is progressing, and how your expedition unearthed some of the creatures….I would say that we still have time before the world—our society as a whole—knows them as facts. That much can be said.”

“That’s good news.”

“But that doesn’t mean all humans or even our technology will be prepared for their arrival or even living amongst them.”

“I’m not sure I want to live next door to one of them,” Houston pointed out.

“The creatures already live here. They were here first.” San added.

“We are the ones who must adapt.” James said, arms crossed over his chest.

Your breath came in quickly as your eyes reminded you of the man’s own bioluminescence. It covered all of his arms’ skin that was visible from his short-sleeve shirt. Mesmerizing you in thoughts that seemed too supernatural and much too distracting for the topic at hand.

“Are we not gonna talk about you two’s skins glowing?” Houston asked, jolting you out of your thoughts.

You straightened up hastily.

“Learning all we can about ancient creatures that could possibly destroy the human race and other creatures of the world comes first.” You said, though perhaps more to yourself. It wasn’t entirely a ‘no’.

“Agreed.” James stated, arms still crossed and glowing.

You had only taken a glimpse at him from the corner of your eye.

“Alright,” Houston drew out the word. “The world is top priority.”

“As it should,” San added. “And we should show Mason and James the other wing. Show them their rooms and where they can eat.”

“It was nice meeting you,” Mason said as she turned towards the door.

“Likewise,” you smiled.

“A pleasure,” James said shortly before leaving just before Mason.

Houston and San gave their short goodbyes as they left you to your work.

You plopped down onto your chair. Heart thumping loudly in your chest, you shuttered as you let out a breath of air.

“He’s here.”

✧ ✧ ✧

Mason and James were shown more of the facility on the way to the living area. A whole opposite wing inside of the secret facility where those in Monarch could stay. It was impressive. Their separate rooms would be the final stop on the tour.

James wondered if there would be no leaving that place. After time, would he want to?

I’m going to have to help people. I’m alright with that. If they need help—the world, I’ll do what I can. He thought as he counted off the doors they passed.

Houston and San lead the way.

“I can’t believe you didn’t stay and talk with her,” Mason declared from beside James. “Actually I can. Nevermind.”

“There’s no time.” James said.

“That’s a poor excuse for someone who just heard that we do have time. Years even.”

“But would it be worth it?” He countered.

“That’s up to you and her. You could also learn a lot more about this place.”

“I think I’ve heard enough about this place for one day.”

He knew that Mason was trying to bait him, but also to genuinely help. It wasn’t an everyday thing to hear about someone finding their soulmate; let alone see it happen.

It had to happen this way, didn’t it?

When night fell and James was finally alone, he was reminded of everything he had pushed to the back of his mind. Well fed and cleaned up, he laid in bed. He could not help but to stare at the glowing of his skin on his left side. It meant that you did not leave the facility either. Could you though? He reached out his left arm and watched as his entire hand glowed. Bright whites and warm yellow tones. Even when he was in the UK his skin never glowed more than the size of his thumb. His soulmate was there. Alive and healthy.

He sighed.

Normally he would not even think about his soulmate or even remember about a glowing patch of his skin because it was always out of sight or not enough to notice. Too many changes and discoveries. Then he met you. However brief of a meeting, James had felt something spark in his mind and his veins. Somewhere in him, he felt a connection. An interest that rooted itself inside of him where he could not see.

Closing his eyes, James settled with his thoughts.

She’s safe. That’s what’s important.

✧ ✧ ✧

James awakened from his half-sleep state from a knocking on the room’s only door. Rolling out of bed, he walked to see who needed to see him. It was not until his entire front was glowing brighter than yesterday did he know for certain who was behind the door. He flicked on the room light. Sleep faded from his mind completely.

He took a breath in.

Upon opening the door, he did not mind greeting who he saw.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning,” you smiled all tense with your face all aglow.

A small smile curled his lips.

Guess it didn’t take her long to figure out which room I was in.

“I’m sorry if it’s too early.” You said, voice hushed.

“It’s fine. Truly.”

“I was just…wondering if you were okay.”

He could of laughed at the statement, but he chose against it.

“Considering I was lucky to return alive from an island full of monsters, was taken against my will to be brought here, was shown a presentation of other monsters on the planet, and still haven’t left this place—I would have to say that simply ‘okay’ doesn’t quite fit.”

Silence filled the hall.

James felt a twinge of guilt seeing the mixture of hurt on your face unfiltered. Your fingers intertwined tightly. He waited to hear what you would say.

You finally found words you wanted to share, “Monarch tends to be a bit dramatic and secretive, but I think that’s because it’s difficult for Monarch as a whole to find people they can trust.”

“They seem to trust you a great deal.”

“I’ve just gathered information. I’m a zoologist and I also want to make sense of what our world really is—but that doesn’t mean I’ll figure out everything we should even know about one of these creatures. I do my best. I don’t go out recruiting or anything. I haven’t even been out in the field in months.”

He saw more than he had yesterday how the subjects at hand were making you distressed. Seen from how your eyes looked panicked and you hid your hands in the sleeves of your sweater.

“I’m sorry for what you went through on the island. No one should have gotten hurt or…,” your voice trailed off.

“Each of us knew the risks—to a degree.”

“But you weren’t told the truth. It wasn’t fair.”

James leaned against the doorway. New thoughts coming forward in his mind.

“Were you available to go to Skull Island?”

“I—,” you cocked your head at him before your eyes glanced elsewhere. “Bill Randa told me to look over my research. Basically like writing a second draft to a paper. He told me that I was missing something. But…we didn’t have any new information coming in at the time.”

“Any chance he was wary of whether or not you would have told those he hired why we were really there?”

That would have been helpful. But Houston and San did not say anything either.

“I…I don’t know. I’ve never told a secret before. Not that any of this is really a secret. It’s more like myths and stories that people wouldn’t likely believe at first glance.”

He watched as you rubbed your arms still deep in thought.

James straightened up.

“Would you care to come in? I think we’ve stood out here long enough.” He smiled.

You smiled kindly in return.

“Would it be alright if we talked about something other than monsters?” You inquired.

“Sure. Did you have anything in mind?” He dearly hoped you were not going to ask about the War or that part of his past that interested most others.

No doubt she had heard something from Houston or San. Or she asked.

To his surprise and only partial relief, you held up a single glowing finger.

Right. That.

James’ chest rose and fell before he nodded in agreement. The man moved back inside the room given to him and held the door open as you gingerly entered.

As you passed him the side of your face glowed a bright white that his eyes seemed to follow without a second thought.

Seconds ticked by and you were both still standing around and not sure what to do as you both glowed, keeping a distance.

You rose your eyebrows, amused with the silence.

One of us has to say something, he thought.

What was there to say? It was not the most ideal of circumstances around.

“I…I must apologize for being so blunt when we met.” James said. “Everything has just been adding up and piling on more information. I didn’t want to put any of that emotion towards you. None of this was expected.”

“It’s alright. I mean, I always figured I’d miss my chance at meeting my—uh, you know…”

James nodded.

“Because of my work and usually being inside or one place. Not really moving around. Plus I figured I’d somehow walk right passed or something and not notice because I’m focused on other things.”

“Your work is important to you. That’s good.”

“Yeah,” you smiled a bit as you rested your hands on your hips. “Nothing like good work ethic in something your interested in. Though right now it’s quite the topics.”

Narrowing his eyes for a moment, James figured you were talking about more than just monsters. About him, perhaps?

We keep dancing around the soulmate subject. What do we even want? What do I want?

“It’d been nice to focus on other things.” You said.

What?

The corner of your lips quirked up as you looked at him.

“Things about what other people do or are interested in.” You clarified. You had read his expression well enough.

“I’m not sure what information I could offer.” James stated softly. “I was still a tracker for hire when Monarch offered me the job.” He had not entirely wanted to bring that up to you, however there was not much else. How personal did he want to be? This was the most time he had spent in your presence since meeting you the day before. To him, you did not seem the radical type like those he encountered while on Skull Island. Time would tell when he would open up more to you. Even the whole soulmate subject was a heavy topic.

You seemed determined enough to push through the conversation.

“Could…,” you pressed your lips together in a tight line. Eyes no longer meeting his. “This is probably extremely personal, but—if you wanted to…would you had been able to find me on your own?”

“The glowing would had made it exceedingly easier. Yes.”

You nodded, taking in his words.

“Would you?” He asked.

Eyes returning to his, your shoulders perked higher. You shook your head.

“Even working for Monarch, I couldn’t.” You said quietly. “I think it worked out though.” You shrugged, trying to defend your happiness of meeting James.

She really is happy to have met me. Finding me though…That’s what I figured, he thought. She can’t travel the world with her expertise without support. She couldn’t have been able to find me in Vietnam. Seeing her office, she probably would had been helpful on the trip. He froze at his thoughts. No. That would had been terrible.

“I know that we agreed not to speak about any more monsters, however,” he inhaled visibly, “I am glad that you were not on that expedition.”

“Why?” Your question was out of curiosity not pride.

“Your presence would had made it more complicated. None of it would have been of your own doing. Rather, uh, the stakes would have been higher. Greater.”

Just the start of his mind thinking about if you there bothered him. The creatures, the people, unknown environment they found themselves in, and the secrets that were held.

“Oh…that sort of makes sense.”

“Sorry,” he took a step closer to you. “It’s just there were guns being pointed to anyone who disagreed with the Lieutenant Colonel. And if you were there I’m sure he would have used you as leverage or had threatened you or worse. Our glowing skins would have made us easy targets.”

“Not to forget the wildlife as I heard briefly.”

“That too. I’m so glad you weren’t there and I say that with much respect to you.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

That didn’t sound forward, did it?

“At least this is a much more safer environment to get to know one another.” James said.

At the closer proximity he could see that even the tip of your nose was glowing. He had never seen someone’s entire face illuminated before. To know it was from his presence, gave him an emotion he could not immediately place.

“How long do you plan on staying?”

The question struck him deep. James had not even left Vietnam when the war was over and even in Monarch he was not sure where he would stay. Was there a place for him in Monarch? He was a tracker and they were discovering monsters who lived below the Earth’s surface. He could find work there, but could he find a life there?

“As long as I am needed.”

~~~

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful.

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

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#James Conrad #James Conrad x reader #James Conrad x fem!reader #James Conrad fanfiction #Kong: Skull Island fanfiction #where dreamers go #Captain James Conrad #Girl Next Door's Make Me Feel Bingo #soulmate au #James Conrad soulmate au #well this took me a few years to finally upload

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wingsofkpop · 3 years

Text

Hiraeth - I.IX: Bloodborne

pairing(s): Hybrid!Im Jaebeom x Reader, Witch!Mark Tuan x Reader, Werewolf!Jackson Wang x Reader, Vampire!Park Jinyoung x Reader, Supernatural!Got7 x Reader

genre: Supernatural!AU, Dark Magic!AU, heavy Angst, eventual Smut

warnings: Mature language, mentions of death and murder, violence, explicit descriptions of fighting, blood and gore, some satanic themes, mentions of trauma, etc.

word count: 6,5k

synopsis: How far are you willing to go to find out the truth about Moon Dye Bay?…

chapter directory

“—so once Youngjae channels enough power from the blood moon tonight, he’ll be able to lower the veil between the Other Side and the physical plane long enough to resurrect your spirit into a mortal body.” You explain, glancing over your notes at the unusually quiet figure sitting on your bed. Something about his expression seems distant—almost sorrowful.

After your return from the hospital, and after the long chat with your roommate convincing her that your absence all night was due to a last minute work emergency, a certain ghost phased into your bedroom. You wouldn’t allow yourself to be this concerned, but during his visits, Jackson usually never shuts up. If you were all alone with no one to talk to, you probably wouldn’t either.

You lower your notebook and shake your head, “You haven’t said one word since you showed up. What’s wrong?”

Jackson purses his lips, as if nervous to relay the thoughts swirling through his mind. Another brief moment of silence passes before he finally murmurs, “It’s the witches. They’re starting to get suspicious again… I don’t know how long I have before they figure out I’ve been crossing over to this plane.”

“Then we’ll just have to bring you back before they find out.” You grab your phone from your desk, checking through your notifications to see if a certain siphoner has yet responded to your dozens of texts and calls. No dice.

You haven’t been able to reach Youngjae since yesterday morning, which is odd considering the guy is the type to respond within three seconds of receiving a message. It would be one thing if he let you know that he’s busy, but it’s complete radio silence. It’s not like Youngjae at all.

“You’re worried about something.”

Your eyes dartup at Jackson’s observation, discovering his concerned gaze focused on you.

“It’s Youngjae.” You sigh, “I haven’t heard from him, but I’m sure he’s just busy brewing potions or something.” You expect to earn at least a chuckle from the ghost, but his silence remains along with the blank expression along his face. His same distant demeanor also lingers, and this time, your concern grows to panic. “What is it, Jackson? What’s going on?”

“I didn’t want to say anything cause I was sure it was all in my head, but I feel that something is… weird.”

“Weird?”

“It’s hard to explain.” He continues, “But as a ghost, I can feel things around me… like right now, the universe just seems off—” His voice cuts out as he frantically shakes his head, “Anyway, I just want you to be careful. Mark used to tell me that disrupting the balance of nature is like opening Pandora’s box.”

“Yeah. We will be doing none of that.” You set your phone down before crossing the room to kneel in front of Jackson. A grin lifts to your lips as you hum to the ghost, “So what do you feel when you’re around me?...”

Jackson raises an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“You said you feel things around you… Do you feel anything special when you’re with me?”

You’re surprised at the eagerness that swells in your chest as he takes his time to think over your question. The inquiry was supposed to be a joke to lighten the mood, but you’re actually curious about your companion’s ghastly perceptions. After maybe a minute or two, Jackson sends you a small smile:

“I feel… light.”

“Light? What is that supposed to mean?”

“You have this aura around you.” Jackson affirms, mindlessly reaching forward thumb at your cheek. You obviously can’t feel his touch, but something in your gut tells you that if you could, you would feel nothing but warmth. “I feel powerful when I’m with you…”

“Is that a good thing?”

He grins, “I think so.”

You continue to stare at one another for a moment, almost attempting to read the depths in each other’s eyes. It’s not until a harsh knock resonates from the front door do you finally break the gaze, offering Jackson a final hum, “I’ll bring you back as soon as I can. I promise.”

Jackson nods, “I know you will. But like I said, please be careful.”

“I will. See you soon.” You wait for Jackson to disappear completely before exiting your bedroom, cursing Sana for leaving you to deal with whoever is incessantly banging on your door. It’s probably the old lady from across the hall wanting to borrow another cup of sugar. You roll your eyes at the thought and open the door, ready to politely decline your neighbor’s request.

Your words die on your tongue—definitely not the old lady from across the hall.

“Mark? What are you—?”

“What? Not expecting to see me?” Mark’s hostile growl takes you by surprise, as does the furious expression etched along his features. “That’s not surprising since you’ve been ignoring me.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Oh. I’m sure.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “What the hell is your problem?”

“You wanna know what my problem is?” Mark takes a step closer to you before pointing a finger in your direction, “The fact that you not only lie to me, but you go behind my back and then deliberately avoid me for days on end.”

“What are you even talking about, Mark?”

“I’m talking about you and Youngjae playing God and resurrecting Jackson.”

Your muscles instantly freeze, as if Mark had taken a tub of ice water and thrown it over your head. The annoyance inside your chest shifts to guilt, and your once cold features cannot help but soften.

You shake your head, “Mark, I—”

“Do you know how dangerous it is to bring someone back from the dead, (Y/N)?” Mark lowers his voice, but his tone remains as frigid as his gaze. “Do you know the consequences that happen when you fuck with the balance of nature?”

“I get that, but—it’s complicated, Mark… There’s things you don’t understand—”

“I don’t understand!?” He scoffs, “Last I checked, I’m the goddamn witch here, (Y/N)! You know nothing about magic and its sacrifice!”

“Maybe not, but I do know that there is a chance I could bring Jackson back!” You shake your head again, “Please, just give me a chance to explain—”

“No. Because it’s not fucking happening.” Mark interrupts, furiously shaking his own head. “I forbid you to do this.”

It’s like a switch goes off in your mind. Your guilt immediately transforms, but this time, it configures into rage:

“You forbid me!? Who the flying fuck do you think you are!?”

“I won’t sit back and allow you to get yourself killed—!”

“And last I checked, you don’t have the right to control what I do and the decisions I make!” You seethe, stepping further back into your apartment. “This is my choice. I’m resurrecting Jackson whether you like it or not.”

“Fine! Get yourself fucking killed for all I care!” The witch raises his hands in mock surrender. “At least then I won’t have to deal with your reckless, moronic ass!”

“Fuck you, Mark.” You don’t allow the witch to say anything further and slam the door in his face. Your chest remains unbearably heavy, both physically and mentally, but you ignore the sweltering emotions and begin to traverse around the apartment, gathering your bag and other assorted belongings.

A confused and rather concerned Sana emerges from her bedroom a few seconds later. “Are you okay? What was with all that yelling?”

“Don’t worry about it,” You huff, shoving your arms through the sleeves of your jacket. “Just Mark being a douchebag, as per usual.”

“Where are you going?”

“To find Youngjae.”

“Isn’t it kind of late?”

“I’m an adult, Sana.” You snap before throwing your bag over your shoulder. “Don’t wait up for me.”

Similar to Mark, you don’t allow Sana the chance to question you further and sprint out the front door, praying that Youngjae will be up to bringing Jackson back in the next few hours.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Mark has never exercised the greatest control over his emotions. It first began when he was twelve, after his dad walked out on his mom. He found himself sobbing his eyes out some days, and beating the shit out of other kids on others. His mood ranged from intense rage to extreme depression. There was no in between.

In an effort to help, his mom enrolled him in a program designed to teach teens how to handle their emotions. But to no one’s surprise, the therapy didn’t do shit and Mark continued to initiate fights and cry himself to sleep most nights. He never understood why he felt this way—he still doesn’t, to be honest. His dad and him were never close, nor did he ever really care about his sudden departure. Maybe he was just an angry kid with depression. Maybe it was something else.

It wasn’t until his mom was killed did Mark begin to pull his life together, which also happened to be around the same time he met the too-friendly, homeschooled kid with an ego the size of Jupiter, Jackson Wang. Sure, the two of them butted heads every so often, but with Jackson being a werewolf, Mark learned the importance of managing the chaos within. ‘Emotion is like a loaded gun,’ he remembers Jackson once said, ‘If you let yourself pull the trigger without first aiming down sights, then you risk sinking a bullet into someone you love.’ Those words remain with him—remind him what means to stay in control.

But when it involves the people he loves, Mark can’t always regulate the ticking bomb counting down in his soul.

An ache settles in his chest as he recalls the passionate fire in your gaze. There’s always been some parts of you that reminds Mark of his past friend, specifically your stubbornness and inability to think before you act. He’s never found himself hating those parts of you until now—and he shouldn’t, Mark knows that, but he’s so fucking angry and so fucking scared of losing yet another one of the most important people in his life.

He’s experienced his fair share of loss, but losing you… It would break him. Completely.

Mark tries to push the intrusive thoughts from the forefront of his mind and focus on navigating his way through the dark maze of headstones and crumbling tombs. Right after you slammed your front door in his face, he received a text from Youngjae summoning him, Jisung and Lia to an emergency meeting at the edge of the cemetery. He’s still mad at the siphoner for assisting with your reckless scheme, but he won’t allow his pettiness to interfere with the safety of the coven.

A sigh falls from his lips—he does regret ever saying those ending words to you though… because what if they’re the last ones you hear from him.

‘I’m so sorry, Jackson…’

Mark’s misery is forgotten when he notices a group of people up ahead. He recognizes Lia, Jisung and Youngjae flocked together inside a chalk-white circle surrounded by lit torches. For a moment, Mark wonders if they’re in the middle of performing some type of seance, but his curiosity dwindles into confusion when he grows aware of the panic present in each set of their features.

He breaks into a sprint to cover more distance, approaching the strangely placed trio in no time. At the sight of him, Lia immediately bursts into tears, furthering the anxiety bubbling at the back of his throat.

“What the hell is going on!?”

“Hyung! You have to get out of here right now!” Mark notices the swollen, angry flesh of Youngjae’s bottom lip as he speaks, along with the ugly bruise underneath his left eye.

“What happened?” He ignores the siphoner’s warnings, attempting to reach inside the circle and grab Lia’s arm. However, his hand is met with resistance—a boundary spell. “Who did this to you?”

Lia sobs, “Just go, Mark! Before he hurts you!”

“Before who hurts me!? What are you—” His demands die in his throat as another figure appears from behind a large, marble gravestone. He immediately recognizes the newcomer, which sends even more confusion through his veins. “Seo Changbin? What the hell is this?”

“It’s an emergency meeting, hyung.” Mark feels his entire body freeze when the familiar, conniving voice enters his ears. “You had me a little worried… I almost thought you wouldn’t show up.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Mark whirls around to face a smirking Minho cockily leaning against the wall of an empty tomb. “What kind of game do you think you’re playing, Minho?”

The younger witch shrugs before pushing off the wall to pace around the area. As he draws closer and closer, Mark can spy an ancient, navy blue ring sitting heavily on his forefinger. He’s never seen any piece of jewelry like it before, but something in his gut told him it wasn’t just a simple ring—and that he’s definitely in some kind of trouble.

“Mind explaining to me what we’re doing here? Or are you just going to continue pacing around the place like a cocky bastard?”

“Tonight is a special night, hyung… You wanna know why?” He watches Minho point to the night sky, “In just a few minutes, the moon will drift into the Earth’s shadow and the light of the sun will reflect across the moon’s surface, thus causing a blood moon… It’s actually pretty cool—”

“For Christsake, Minho—get to the goddamn point.”

“You know, for years I had to deal with all your bullshit excuses and justifications of putting our coven in danger—it was only a matter of time until one of us ended up dead, don’t you think?”

A bitter memory of Nayeon’s corpse resurfaces, but Mark remains silent.

“Everyone was too fucking blind, but I saw right through you.” Mark doesn’t move a muscle when Minho suddenly approaches, crowding his space until his nose is mere inches from brushing his own. The younger witch’s harsh glare bleeds into his soul as he continues, “You’re a poor fucking excuse for a leader, hyung—a leader who can’t even protect his own people.”

“And you think you can do better, huh?” Mark growls, glaring his own daggers into Minho’s gaze. “You have no fucking clue what it takes to run this coven… Admit it, you’re just pissed they chose me over you.”

“And look where that got them.”

“You need to cut out whatever petty bullshit this is and let Youngjae, Jisung and Lia go.” Mark murmurs, “Whatever problems you have are with me, so let’s just talk it out, okay?”

“Oh, Mark-hyung…” Minho’s gaze is unwavering from his own as he lifts a hand to rest on Mark’s shoulder. It’s a second too late that Mark realizes it is the same hand in which holds the mysterious ring:

“I’m over talking it out.”

Youngjae’s screams and Lia’s sobs echo in his ears along with the words that spill from Minho’s lips—they’re foreign, but Mark recognizes the spell right away. He tries to squirm and fight against the perpetrator’s grip, but another pair of hands keep his body in place—Changbin.

Bit by bit, Mark feels the buzz of his magic lift from his veins like a flock of doves. His limbs grow weak and his head fuzzy. Soon enough, his own knees no longer bear the strength to hold his weight. Once both Minho and Changbin release him, Mark collapses to the ground—empty and unable to rise.

“What did you do to him!?” Mark hears Jisung’s voice for the first time, although his brain is not fully able to comprehend the inquiry.

“I took his magic. He won’t be needing it anymore.”

Mark manages to find enough strength to reposition his body in a way that allows him to watch both Minho and Changbin approach a makeshift altar composed of an old, concrete coffin. Through the blur of his vision, he catches the witch stirring some kind of crimson mixture—likely blood. Minho looks to the moon, which is slowly brightening to a shade of maroon, before resting his gaze on his companion:

“It’s time.” He offers the mixture to Changbin, “Once you drink this, I can begin the transformation.”

“And you’re sure this spell will give me everything I need to take down the Primes?”

“One hundred percent.”

Take down the Primes?… Fucking hell.

“Minho! Don’t do this!” Mark can’t make out his own voice between the ringing of his ears and the beating of his heart, but he can only hope they’re audible enough for his audience. “The transformation—it won’t work!”

Youngjae shakes his head. “I don’t understand… What are you talking about, hyung?”

“He’s going to try to recreate the spell I used on Jackson on Changbin.” With a huff and a puff, Mark pushes himself to his hands and knees. He attempts to crawl forward, but the spinning of his head sends his body sprawling along the ground once again. He abandons any more thoughts of movement and speaks to Minho directly, “It will kill him—do you understand me!? You can’t—”

“You failed because you couldn’t draw enough power to complete the transformation.” Minho doesn’t even bother to look in his direction, “It will work—I know it will.”

Understanding there’s no possible way to convince the witch, Mark looks to the werewolf instead, “I’m warning you, Changbin! If you go through with this, you will die!”

“Don’t listen to him. Just drink the blood.”

“No! For fucksake, this is suicide!”

“Think of Jackson.” Minho murmurs to a torn Changbin, reaching across the altar to place a supportive hand on his shoulder. “Do it for him.”

“Changbin, don’t—!”

Mark watches in horror as Changbin throws back the mixture and downs its entirety in two gulps. His heart shatters like the glass vial the werewolf launches to the ground. He peers to his left, discovering the same shocked expressions across Youngjae, Jisung and Lia’s faces, and shakes his head in defeat as Lia begins to sob again.

“Filia maximo… Filia maximo… Morsus, morsus—” The wind begins to screech as Minho chants, tearing at Mark’s hair and nudging at his clothes, as if pleading for him to stop the spell. But there’s nothing he can do. For once, Mark is powerless. “—morsus… Advenio donec duo est revertus mors…” With a loud scream, Changbin collapses to the earth. He squirms and writhes in pain underneath the flaming light of the moon—and Mark can’t help but attempt to block out the snaps of his cracking bones.

The scene seems to last for hours until Changbin eventually grows silent. Mark takes the time to catch his breath, unable to control his lungs over the anxiety, fear and nausea lurking through his veins. He wants to look away from the still werewolf, but his gaze is as frozen as the rest of his body.

His eyes burn with tears of rage—Changbin is dead. Another person died because of his own fucking stupidity. Mark should have known this would happen again. He should have stopped it. He should have—

His thoughts disappear as Changbin suddenly gasps for air. For a moment, he claws at the earth as if attempting to ground himself, before he finally, albeit shakily, climbs to his feet. Minho cautiously approaches the wolf, peering down at the shorter male with a gaze full of concern.

“How do you feel?...”

“I feel…” Changbin flexes his fingers again, before closing them into tight fists. The moonlight illuminates the crimson glow of his irises and the sharpness of his long, black fangs as he faces the witch—a malicious smirk spreading along his lips as he chuckles, “I feel like kicking some ancient Prime ass.”

Mark can’t find the strength to watch anymore and allows his head to lower to the earth. Just before his eyes flutter shut, he swears he spots the movement of shadows from behind a nearby headstone. But before he can confirm his suspicions, his head takes one final spin and the world grows dark.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

June 13th, 1769 — As much as I enjoy the atmosphere of Paris, I believe it is time to progress onto another part of the world. Some of the townsfolk are beginning to grow suspicious, considering I appear twenty years younger than my supposed age. Nevertheless, I will not mind a new start elsewhere. Jaebeom, on the other hand, will be a terror to convince. As he claimed last time I brought the idea to light, ‘There will never be a place more beautiful than Paris.’

But I know he is not through playing with his newest toy—Tzuyu.

I set sail for the newlands tomorrow at sunrise. Whether my brother decides to accompany me or not is solely his preference. It would be pleasant to spend some time apart—to spend some time in peace—but I know, with many complaints and reluctance, Jaebeom will board the ship tomorrow. Wherever I traverse, he follows, and vice versa. We are family, after all.

I will miss Notre Dame the most. I have grown used to visiting the Cathedral and repenting my wrongdoings to the high priest. Of course, I am forced to erase his memory of our talks each time, but it is nice to confess. It lifts a weight off of the shoulders, takes away a small portion of the guilt. If there is a god, he would never allow a creature like me to walk amongst his heavens—but at least I can salvage the lingering hope left inside of my soul. Speaking of hope, I thought I saw a woman that resembled Irene during my daily visit to the church. I find it amusing that after all these years, my heart continues to yearn for her presence. She was truly special—I wonder if she ever thought the same of me.

I’ve heard some of the sailors refer to a shore in the newland that has yet to be claimed. It may be the perfect location for Jaebeom and I to start anew. I can only hope it is as beautiful as people say. Maybe I will construct a place of worship as stunning as the Cathedral.

Isn’t that ironic?... A vampire who believes in faith.

Jinyoung finishes the entry with a sigh, welcoming the nostalgia that spreads through his thoughts like an old friend. It seems just yesterday that he recorded his first thoughts about the land that would become Moon Dye Bay. He shakes his head, carefully setting the old journal back on the bookshelf.

He never did build that church.

“Reminiscing again, brother?” The moment is ruined when a certain hybrid’s snicker reaches his ears. Jinyoung rolls his eyes as Jaebeom takes residence beside him, dragging his fingers along the spines of Jinyoung’s other diaries. “We did have some great times back in the 18th century… Remember our battles during the French Revolution? I rather enjoyed King Louis and Marie Antoinette’s executions.”

“You enjoy anything that involves bloodshed.”

“Don’t be so resentful, Jinyoungie. It’s not my fault that the queen had you in her interests.”

Jinyoung shakes his head before retreating to his desk to fix himself a drink. “The woman was as shallow as a poor soul’s ego. She was taken with any man who’d pay her the time of day. It was a miracle her death came as quickly as it did.”

“Careful there. You sound like me.”

Jinyoung deliberately chooses not to respond to Jaebeom’s comment and proceeds to pour two glasses of bourbon. He ignores his companion’s wide smirk as he hands him one of the drinks. Both the vampire and the hybrid simultaneously take a sip, peering at one another over the rims of their cups. Jaebeom is the first to break the silence with a pleased inhale and a hum:

“You returned pretty late last night. I hope you used protection during your time with (Y/N).”

“Mind your tongue, hyung.” Jinyoung warns, “I brought (Y/N) to the hospital after the attack—I trust you took care of Tzuyu?”

Jaebeom smirks. “Of course. She won’t be alive long enough to target your newest Maria Antonia again.”

About to inhale another sip of his bourbon, Jinyoung pauses to mull over the answer. He lowers his glass to his side before delivering Jaebeom a confused expression and a murmured inquiry, “What do you mean she won’t be alive?”

“Tzuyu and I got into an argument and, well, she pissed me off.” Jinyoung watches Jaebeom down the rest of his drink.

“Please tell me you didn’t bite her, Jaebeom-hyung.” He curses at the widening of Jaebeom’s smirk, slamming his glass back down on his desk with enough force to crack its exterior. “When I told you to deal with her, I didn’t mean condemn her to a fate of pain. If you wished to kill her, you could have at least been merciful and done it quick.”

“Last I checked, you said it yourself not to be kind.” Jinyoung follows Jaebeom as he pours himself another drink and collapses onto a brown, leather sofa. He tips his glass toward him with a smile before continuing, “I thought the punishment fit the crime, and we wouldn’t want to put helpless, human (Y/N) in danger again, would we?”

“You turned it off, didn’t you?” Jinyoung realizes, “Does holding onto your humanity wound you that badly, hyung? That you have no choice but to wish it away?”

“If I remember correctly, I’m not the only one that can’t hold onto their humanity… How many people did you kill in the ‘20s alone? One thousand? Maybe two?”

Jinyoung shakes his head, “I’m not that person anymore.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” In the blink of an eye, Jaebeom is in front of Jinyoung—his glass in pieces on the floor beside him. He leans in until Jinyoung can taste the alcohol of his breath on his tongue, then whispers darkly, “You can lie to yourself all you fucking want, Jinyoung. But deep down, you’ll always know what you are… let’s just hope (Y/N) never finds out, hm?”

At the mention of your name, Jinyoung’s anger expands. He suppresses the urge to take the table beside him and smash it over the hybrid’s head, and instead inhales a deep breath. Jaebeom is only trying to provoke him—and he refuses to be a pawn in his foolish games.

“You will remember what it was like to feel human again.” Jinyoung sighs, “For your sake, I hope your remembrance comes sooner rather than later.”

Jaebeom tsks, “Being human is overrated.”

“He said the same thing about fate.” Both Jinyoung and Jaebeom whirl around at the appearance of a third voice. Jinyoung feels his blood begin to boil at the sight of the familiar vampire in the doorway, once again, suppressing his desire to launch a piece of furniture in her direction. “Ironically, fate and humanity are a package deal.”

Jaebeom growls, “What the fuck are you doing here, Tzuyu?”

“I came to try and convince you to give me your blood.” Tzuyu coughs, and Jinyoung swears he can hear the rattle of her bones. “But judging by your attitude, that’s obviously going to be harder than I thought.”

“You have courage for showing your face again.” Jinyoung crosses his arms with a dark hum, “Especially so soon after you nearly killed (Y/N).”

“It wasn’t my intention to kill her. I just wanted to send a message.”

“Is that so?” With a malicious glare, Jinyoung steps forward and tilts his head toward the vampire, “And what kind of message was that?”

“For (Y/N) to stay away from Jaebeom.” Another violent cough wracks through Tzuyu’s thin form, causing a light stream of blood to splatter from her lips. She wipes her mouth with a ragged breath before continuing, “Look, I did it for her own good. We all know his track record at keeping humans alive.”

“You did it to protect her!?” Jaebeom cackles, “Wow! That’s fucking priceless!”

“Say what you will, you both know I’m right.” Tzuyu says, propping herself up against a nearby bookshelf. “It’s either she ends up dead or is turned into a vampire—then again, there’s not much of a difference between the two, is there?”

“I would die before I allow (Y/N) to come to any harm.”

“The only issue with that is you can’t die, Jinyoung.” Jinyoung doesn’t take his eyes off Tzuyu as she grabs a bottle of brandy from the top shelf. It takes her literal seconds to unscrew the cap and down a good portion of the container. She licks her lips and says, “I’m sorry I attacked (Y/N), okay? I went too far. I won’t do it again.”

“You think an apology is enough to save your life?” Jaebeom snickers before snatching the alcohol from the vampire, “Think again, sweetheart.”

“What do you want from me, Jaebeom? Does seeing me die a slow, painful death bring you joy?”

He shrugs, “No one mourns for the wicked.”

“Is he always this much of an asshole?”

Jinyoung chuckles, “Pretty much.”

“Great.” The vampire breathes out a sigh and cards her fingers through her hair. After a brief moment of silence, she directs her attention back to Jaebeom and pleads—her voice packed with desperation and fear, “What can I do to convince you to let me live? Please, Jaebeom… I don’t want to die.”

“You should have thought about that before you touched what I told you not to.” Jinyoung remains quiet as Jaebeom lifts a hand to grasp Tzuyu’s jaw. The dying visitor remains unphased, proceeding to glare at the hybrid with hateful, yet oddly sorrowful eyes. “I suggest you show yourself out before I end your life sooner.”

“You’re going to lose everything one of these days, Jaebeom.” Tzuyu shakes her head sadly, wiping away a layer of cold sweat from her forehead. “You’re going to lose everyone, even your brother, and you’re going to be alone. For an eternity.”

“Save the monologue.” Jaebeom waves dismissively, taking a sip of the brandy before returning it back to its shelf. “Petty isn’t a good look for you, baby.”

“Fuck you, Jaebeom.” Tzuyu goes to stomp out the door, but something—someone blocks her path. The atmosphere changes when Jinyoung notices your panicked form, practically gasping for air and cross-eyed, standing in the doorway. He immediately speeds to your side without hesitation, grasping your hands in hopes to ground you.

He stares into your eyes, “What is it, (Y/N)? What’s wrong?”

“You and Jaebeom have to get the hell out of here! Right now!”

Jaebeom shakes his head in confusion, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I don’t know what exactly happened but Minho turned Changbin into this dark werewolf creature or-or something… I do know, however, that Changbin is on his way right now to kill you both.” Jinyoung steps back at the intensity of your explanation, unable to think of a response over the roar of his thoughts. Through his peripheral vision, he can spot the same type of speechlessness across Jaebeom’s face.

Not again…

“That’s stupid… You realize nothing can kill them, right?” Tzuyu scoffs.

“This is different.” You urge, “I saw Changbin—he wasn’t like anything I’ve ever seen before… The spell that Minho used, it was-was—”

“Dark magic.” Jinyoung finishes blankly, “The spell was dark magic.”

“Yes… which means you and Jaebeom need to leave town as fast as you possibly can before—”

“I don’t think anyone is going anywhere, (Y/N).” Jinyoung’s entire body grows stiff as a new voice echoes throughout the study. He cautiously turns his head, discovering none other than the young werewolf in question resting among the shadows. His eye also catches the open window a few inches away, and he curses himself for ever wanting to feel the nightly draft.

Changbin’s smirk is as dark as his eyes.

“What?... Not going to offer me a drink?”

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“(Y/N)! Get out of here! Now!” Jaebeom hears Jinyoung scream as the werewolf suddenly launches forward, knocking his brother into the bookshelf behind him. The wood completely splinters beneath the impact, raining down an array of books and planks on Jinyoung’s body. Changbin turns to Jaebeom next, but the hybrid is ready—and pissed off.

Jaebeom speeds toward the intruder and delivers a swift kick to the gut. Changbin flies back at the force, crashing back through the window with a loud growl. Sensing the urgency in time, Jaebeom quickly throws Jinyoung’s immobile body over his shoulder and urges both you and Tzuyu out the study door.

“Come on! We gotta go!”

“Jaebeom! What the hell is happening!?” He ignores Tzuyu’s fearful ask and proceeds to lug Jinyoung through the maze of hallways and down the staircase, you and the female vampire hot on his heels. He doesn’t know exactly where he’s going, but he makes his way to the parlor where he props Jinyoung up against a nearby chair before turning to you:

“You need to leave. I will deal with this.”

“No way. I’m not going anywhere.” Jaebeom curses your stubbornness inside his head, sending a stern glare in your direction. Your expression remains fixated, and he can’t help but wish your presence in any other situation but now.

“I can’t protect you right now—”

“And I can’t sit back and watch you get yourselves killed!” You shake your head indignantly, “I’m staying!”

“Fucking hell, (Y/N)! Get your ass out that door before I throw you out myself!”

“Jaebeom, watch out!” At Tzuyu’s cue, a wooden branch comes soaring in through the window. Jaebeom immediately throws himself against you, effectively forcing your body to the ground to dodge the projectile. He can feel your fear through the trembling of your limbs and hurried breaths, but it only brings him more determination to tear apart his attacker.

He shakes his head in surrender, “You stay on the fucking ground, understand? Don’t you fucking dare move a muscle.” He doesn’t bother to wait for a response and pushes himself back to his feet.

Tzuyu is huddled in a corner, and Jinyoung has yet to awaken from his crash landing back in the study. Jaebeom tries to focus his senses on detecting the werewolf, but he can’t seem to hear anything past the beating of his own heart. He carefully makes his way over to the incapacitated vampire, attempting to force him back to consciousness.

“Now is really not the time for a fucking nap, Jinyoung.” He hisses, “I swear to god, if I have to save your ass one more time—” Another wave of tree branches come crashing through the windows. Unfortunately, Jaebeom is not as quick and one catches his shoulder at just the right angle. He feels the wood sink into his flesh, painfully carving into his bones. With a low groan, Jaebeom manages to grab the makeshift stake and remove it in one hefty pull.

He tosses it away with a yell, “You gonna hide like a little bitch!? Or are you gonna come out and fight like a man!?”

“Be careful what you wish for, asshole!” Jaebeom turns just in time to discover the werewolf emerging from a shattered window. His blood boils when he notices the sadistic grin along the young kid’s face—he wonders how those teeth will look strewn across the parlor floor.

Changbin comes at him fast, much faster than Jaebeom could have predicted. He manages to dodge a set of jabs, but he’s not so lucky when Changbin lands a heavy hit against the side of his face. Pain erupts through his jaw as he collapses to the floor, but Jaebeom doesn’t have the chance to dwell over it and rolls out of the way just as the werewolf attempts to stomp his nose.

Jaebeom tries to speed away again, but like before, his counterpart is faster. Changbin manages to force him to the floor for a second time, pinning his body down with his own. Horrified, the hybrid watches as the werewolf’s eyes glow blood red and large, pitch black fangs emerge past his parted lips. Once again, he attempts to break free, but it’s no use—Changbin is too strong.

Just when he believes the wolf’s fangs are going to sink into his neck, another form knocks Changbin away. Jaebeom hurriedly props himself on his arms in time to watch Tzuyu deliver a series of hits and kicks to the perpetrator, eventually slamming his head into a nearby armoire. Taking advantage of the moment, she turns from Changbin to Jaebeom instead:

“Grab Jinyoung and (Y/N) and run!” She screams, “Get the hell of here!”

Unable to move, Jaebeom remains as Tzuyu attempts to fight off the wolf. But with the combination of his ultimate strength and her weakness from Jaebeom’s venom, her defeat is inevitable. He watches in terror as Changbin sinks his teeth into the vampire’s arm before yanking her head forward and effectively snapping her neck. Jaebeom feels his insides practically soar with rage when the attacker tosses a comatose Tzuyu across the room like a useless toy.

“I’ll kill you…” He sneers, allowing his own supernatural features to overtake his face. “I’ll fucking kill you…”

Changbin shakes his head with a smirk, “I’d like to see you try.”

Using the little agility he has left, Jaebeom grabs one of the branches and speeds toward the wolf. Due to Changbin’s movements, he misses his chest, but manages to stab the weapon in his stomach. Changbin releases a pained groan, allowing Jaebeom to take advantage of his surprise and land another array of uppercuts to his face. Just when he finally thinks he has the upper hand, his opponent blocks one of his hits and pins him against a wall with a hand around his throat.

“Any last words, Prime?”

“You really think you can kill me?” Jaebeom growls, squirming against Changbin’s hold.

“I know I can… Have fun rotting in Hell—fuck!”

Shock spills through Jaebeom’s veins as the point of branch suddenly appears through the center of the wolf’s chest, splattering red across both of their bodies. Changbin’s grip releases, allowing the hybrid to quickly speed out of his reach. Once he’s a safe distances away, Jaebeom looks to his savior, discovering the one person he never expected to see—

You stand over Changbin’s body—chest heaving and bloodied hands trembling. Your eyes are glassy when Jaebeom meets your gaze, and for some reason, he feels the urge to go and pull your form into a tight embrace. Your voice, however, returns his mind to reality:

“Did I… Did I kill him?”

“I don’t think so.” Jaebeom answers, nursing his wound with his own shaky fingers. “We need to get out of here—get somewhere safe.”

“Good idea.” You trudge over to where Jinyoung is still unconsciously laid across the chair. Jaebeom follows your lead and hurries over to a lifeless Tzuyu. “I know somewhere we can go… but I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

“(Y/N)... There is an immortal, unkillable super wolf out to kill me and my brother currently in my living room…” He snorts, maneuvering Tzuyu’s body into one arm and assisting you and Jinyoung with the other.

“Trust me, anywhere is a hell of a lot better than here…”

87 notes · View notes

not-reagan · 3 years

Text

milf: man i love forests

pairing: deforester boo seungkwan x frat boy mirror demon han jisung (side pairing reagan x rainbow)

genre: crack, strangers to friends to lovers, non-idol au

warnings: cursing, brief supernatural elements, i don’t know if this applies but all lcase, and i listened to christmas music and abba while writing this

word count: 2.7k

authors note: happy birthday @miyuuraiura !! i am so sorry about this monstrosity being your birthday gift but you asked for it so it's your fault entirely. i was gonna include some context on this story for those who are not rainbow and i but actually i don't think i will.

seungkwan did what he could to get by. he loved nature, he really did, but sometimes you have to make moral sacrifices to survive. he was a college kid strapped for cash, and when he saw a sign reading “GET RICH QUICK, INVEST IN DEFORESTATION” in the summer going into his freshmen year, he jumped at the opportunity. sure, he would have rather been a freelance singer, hired for bar-mitzvahs and children's parties, but that job market was flooded at the moment.

jisung, on the other hand, had no care for nature. actually, he didn't care for any human things, apart from “banging parties, booze, the boys™, and bitches”. he hated quite a bit about earth, the worst of all to him being college. as a demon, he had no reason to attend university, but after he was summoned in the bathroom of a frat house by the school’s power couple; rainbow and reagan, he felt obliged to follow the two around and keep them company.

for seungkwan, his main job rarely required in person work. he usually just chose plots of land to demolish, and sent plans to local managers. the only time he actually had to knock down any trees himself was during his summer break. he has a part time job of course, but it didn't provide him enough cash to survive. for someone with a job as a deforester, he truly did do what he could to save the environment. he joined his schools environmental club, becoming vice president his sophomore year because of his work with them. he kept his job a secret, not even telling his parents where the influx of cash was coming from. he kept a low profile and went through the motions of life. he didn't have much of a social life, with his small amount of friends being from the environmental club.

han jisung found joy in witnessing his professors and fellow students lose their minds over his lack of effort in class. he did the bare minimum and still passed with flying colors. most of all, it angered his seatmate in earth science, who happened to be none other than boo seungkwan. seungkwan was a hard worker in everything he did, particularly in school. he didn't get the best grades, but by no means was he the worst. averaging a steady B+, seungkwan spent most of his nights studying or working, rarely going to parties and enjoying himself only through one person karaoke rooms.

this fact upset jisung. he didn't know why, but seeing seungkwan so tired every day made him feel sad(? jisung wasn't sure what it made him feel. it was an emotion he had never experienced before. rainbow told him it meant he had a crush. to this he threw an empty soda can at them). not to mention seungkwan’s upsetting karaoke addiction, which he knew all about the danger of because of reagan, who spent most of her weekends drunk and singing. jisung didn’t know why he took such a liking to seungkwan. what he did know was that he was ecstatic to find that they would be paired together for a project. a project that required quite a bit of teamwork, and a lot of after school work sessions.

seungkwan liked to think that he didn’t hate anyone. he hated evil people, like hitler and stalin and jyp, but he didn’t really hate anyone besides the worst of the worst. that was until he experienced jisung. he wasn’t sure why jisung always talked to him when he was trying to take notes in class. he especially wasn’t sure why he was so excited to be partnered up together for the project that was worth 25% of their grade. seungkwan was less than happy to have to cooperate with jisung for an extended period of time, and he was not looking forward to letting him into his dorm room, or going anywhere near jisung’s frat house. seungkwan had no idea what he was pushed into.

they planned to meet at the cafe on campus at 5:00 pm after class. seungkwan was less than happy. jisung was thrilled. when jisung arrived seungkwan was sitting at a table drinking an americano and working on an english essay. he wasn't sure how to approach him, slowly walked closer before tapping on his shoulder. seungkwan jolted in his seat.

“jesus fuck jisung. you scared the crap out of me,” seungkwan gasped. jisung’s ears flushed as he brought his hand to the back if his neck.

“sorry,” he started, pausing for a second before starting again, “why don't we get started?”. he swung his bag down to the ground as he took a seat. seungkwan offered a small, non genuine smile before pulling out the project’s guidelines.

“let's try to finish this as quickly as possible. im pretty busy and don't have much time to fool around.” seungkwan said. jisung felt his heart drop. did seungkwan really think that little of him? granted, he always dozed off in class but he got his work done on time and in an orderly fashion. he felt his mind begin to wander. if seungkwan felt this way about him now, how would he feel when he found out that jisung was a demon. would seungkwan start to like him if he knew him better? jisung couldn't figure out why he cared so much about how seungkwan perceived him. he had never had an issue with others opinions of him before, so what made seungkwan so different? for some reason, jisung felt the need to connect with seungkwan. if not for himself, then at least to help him let loose.

after working silently on each of their portions of the projects for 3 hours, jisung finally spoke up. “do you want to maybe come to my party next month? well, it's not my party, it's for rainbow’s birthday. i know you're not one for social interaction but it would be cool to see you there. i’ll give you the details if-”

“i’d love to go,” seungkwan cut off jisung’s rambling. to be honest, he wasn't exactly sure what he was agreeing to, but he knew it would shut jisung up, and seungkwan valued his peace and quiet. part of him also just felt downright bad for the other. he seemed to be trying awfully hard to become friends with seungkwan, and he wouldn’t admit it, seungkwan had started to warm up to the boy. he really wasn’t as much of an issue as he had thought before, and was actually really respectful of seungkwan’s wishes. maybe i’ll give him a chance, seungkwan thought before going back to his work.

over the next month, jisung and seungkwan continued meeting to work on their project. seungkwan was less short with the other, and jisung was still red faced every time seungkwan decided to talk to him, which became quite frequently over the next few weeks. jisung was starting to realize that the feelings he had for seungkwan were not simply platonic, and that he didn’t just want to be friends with him. with the help of rainbow and reagan, he had come to the conclusion that he really, really liked seungkwan, and that he was going to do something about it. remembering that he had invited seungkwan to the party, he devised a plan to not only tell seungkwan about his whole “i’m actually a demon” thing, but also about his true feelings. it wouldn't be easy, but it was what he had to do.

a month later, seungkwan still wasn’t exactly sure why he had agreed to go to jisungs frat house at 9:00 pm on a saturday night. yet there he was, standing on the front porch of a large house, wondering if he should bite the bullet and walk in, or spare himself and leave right then. he didn't get a choice, however, as rainbow and reagan stepped out of the house giggling while clutching onto each other. both stopped in their tracks when they saw seungkwan. the couple and seungkwan stared at each other for a good minute before seungkwan shook himself from his trance.

“hey rainbow!” seungkwan started, “and reagan too. i know we aren’t super close, but jisung invited me and i thought i’d just drop by and wish you a happy birthday.” he passed her a birthday card filled with $50 bucks and then turned to leave. “i’ll leave you guys now. have a great birthday!” before seungkwan could get very far, however, rainbow grabbed him by the arm.

“hey, i’d love if you’d stay! at least go say hi to jisung. i’m sure he’d like to see you,” she said, silently making note to have jisung pay her back for being a great wingwoman.

“he’s probably hiding in the second floor bathroom. if you don't see him in there, just say his name three times in front of the mirror. he’ll appear.” reagan explained. seungkwan thought she was joking. how wrong he was.

following his entrance to the house, he had to refuse not one, not two, but three different people who were looking to give him bottles or cups of something which seungkwan presumed to be various types of alcohol. navigating through the house was difficult, reaching the stairs to the second floor only after running into numerous people borderline fucking on two large couches in the living room, a smoke circle taking place in what seungkwan assumed to be a dining room, and a very aggressive makeout session against a wall. once he finally reached the second floor, he had some difficulty finding the bathroom, accidentally walking in on reagan and rainbow, who had miraculously made it upstairs faster than he had.

“if you don’t stop shitting constantly i am going to break up with you! also, stop taking feet pics! it’s weird!” he heard rainbow shout.

“at least i can eat seafood! how does it make your head hurt? you’re the weakest link! that fucking seafood platter was delicious. and you know what, i’m glad i didn’t have to share it with you!” reagan responded. seungkwan quickly shut the door, not wanting to get involved in whatever drunken argument was going on there. after a bit more searching, he finally stumbled across the right room. knocking first to see if anyone was in there, he entered, and to his surprise, nobody was there. jisung was nowhere to be seen. seungkwan reviewed his options. he could a) leave the party, or b) continue to look around the packed house. but there was another option. he thought about it for a second.

“what's the harm in trying,” seungkwan thought out loud, before staring directly into the mirror.

“han jisung, han jisung, han jisung.”

nothing happened. that's what seungkwan thought, until a minute later the lights in the bathroom flickered off and the mirror began to glow. “what. the. fuck,” seungkwan managed to squeak out before falling backwards into the tub. first a leg emerged, then two arms, and finally the rest of jisung’s body.

“i feel like the genie in aladin every time i have to get into a fucking mirror,” jisung complained before seeing seungkwan toppled over. to that view, he jumped down off the counter and moved to help him up. seungkwan, aside from falling, seemed to be reacting well to the whole situation, at least in the sense that instead of freaking out he seemed to be in a state of shock. jisung took this as a good sign, and lifted the motionless body up onto the toilet seat.

“hey seungkwan, you there?” jisung waved his hand in front of seungkwan's face as he slowly came to his senses.

“what kind of twisted party trick was that?” seungkwan asked, pretty seriously. jisung just laughed.

“you summoned me from the mirror. i’m like a funny version of michael jackson except i'm a demon and not a man in the mirror.” jisung explained. seungkwan just stared. “are you ok kwan? do you want me to get you some water?”

“it was… kind of sick.” seungkwan stated. he didn't know why he wasn't scared. under any other circumstance like this one, he probably would have shit his pants. for some reason he felt comfortable around jisung. he felt warm. he felt seen. it was something he hadn't felt before. that's when he realized. he wondered why it took himself to long to figure it out. he never hated jisung. he just didn't know what to do with the fact that he made him feel special, and that he felt as though he belonged when they were together. it had hit him why he was so nervous the whole night, why he had wanted to make such a good impression, and why he was willing to embarrass himself by calling out jisungs name as opposed to just choosing to go home. it was because he loved him.

“can i tell you something?” both of the boys said at the same time. jisung giggled and seungkwan flushed red. **authors note! bonus starts here**

“you first,” seungkwan offered. he wasn't exactly sure he would be able to make it through a sentence without getting any redder than he already was.

jisung took this opportunity to finally get his true feelings out into the air, “i like you… uhh like, i like like you. i have since we first became seatmates. well, i think that's when i've liked you since. i knew whe-”

“you're rambling again,” seungkwan told him. jisung flushed a dark shade of pink. “it's a habit of yours. i think it's cute actually.” seungkwan wasn't sure where his sudden surge of confidence came from, but he was glad it came. he was standing up now, holding jisungs hands in his. jisungs heart was racing a mile a minute as he looked down at their intertwined hands and them back up, catching seungkwan looking directly at his lips. “can… can i kiss you?” seungkwan stuttered out. jisung couldn't find his words, so he opted to just nod.

when their lips connected, seungkwan could have sworn he heard fireworks. he did later find out that someone was setting off a firework in the back yard, but it was the thought that counted. their lips melted together perfectly, and seungkwan wondered why it took him so long to admit his feelings to himself. he could have been kissing jisung for a month before this.

once they finally parted, seungkwan spoke softly, “i like you too. i think that's pretty obvious now but just in case you didn't know.” jisung had the dumbest, most confused face on, and seungkwan had the brightest smile he'd ever had. seungkwan had rendered jisung speechless, for once in his life. not long after, they started kissing again, content with their emotions and their new relationship.

seungkwan was never one to believe that good things were permanent. he was overdramatic, stubborn, and hated interacting with people outside his small social circle. that was until han jisung came along. he was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, he could let someone else into his life.

jisung was a simple man. well, not a man, but he was simple nonetheless. he liked banging parties, booze, the boys™, and bitches. well maybe there was one more thing he liked. he knew for sure he liked boo seungkwan. maybe he loved him. maybe seungkwan even felt the same way.

-fin

**BONUS**

reagan and rainbow leaned up against the door to eavesdrop on their matchmaking work.

“holy shit!” reagan gasped.

“what is it?? tell me what happened. you're hogging up the door!” rainbow hissed.

“our boy is so grown up,” reagan pretended to cry. “put your goddamn ear up here.” rainbow felt her ear connect with the cold door just as jisung confessed his feelings.

“i like you… uhh like, i like like you. i have since we first became seatmates. well, i think that's when i've liked you since. i knew whe-” his next words were cut off on the girls side of the door as reagan squealed.

“shut your mouth! seungkwans saying something!!” rainbow said, obviously annoyed that reagan was obstructing her ability to hear the exchange.

“can… can i kiss you?” they heard seungkwan say. both looked at each other in shock.

“oh. my. god.” was all rainbow could say.

“i think we should give them some alone time,” reagan suggested as she tugged rainbow down the hall.

“i think we need some alone time for ourselves,” rainbow said as reagan pushed her into a random room and locked the door behind them.

#kpop #seventeen #stray kids #svt #skz #fanfic #guys i am so sorry #seungkwan #jisung #boo seungkwan #han #han jisung #a birthday gift #miyuuraiura #for you 💕#han jisung x boo seungkwan #jisung x seungkwan #han x seungkwan

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juleswolverton-hyde · 3 years

Text

Not by the Moon | 03

Genre: Smut, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Drama, Tragedy, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU, Bookshop AU

Pairing: Bookshop keeper!/Werewolf!JB x Reader

Warnings: Mild angst, a sprinkle of jealous werewolf!Jaebeom.

Summary: Every story has a purpose or goal it is dedicated to, their authors at times going to great lengths to see the project they once started to completion. Nevertheless, the things the writers swore on to see their latest art piece to completion are static.

Unchanging.

None of them swore by the Moon nor Love because they can solely genuinely swear on all that changes like themselves.

And yet, a wolf in love foolishly swore by the moon.

That is when Time truly started ticking.

Author’s Note: This chapter is from Jaebeom’s POV.

Previous Chapter / Next chapter

Masterlist

I like being with you.

The phrase vividly repeats itself as I blindly lead us to the park, my head in the clouds. So much so, in fact, she has to stop in her tracks and pull me back because we have walked past the entrance.

“Jaebeom,” she struggles to draw me in, firming her grip on my arm and weakly pulling on it, “we’re here already.”

It takes a second to register what Y/N says, but after a few haphazard glances around to see where we are, it does. “Ah, right.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“Nobody’s ever told me that.’’ Like a lovesick puppy, I bite down on my bottom lip. ‘’That they like to be with me, I mean.”

“Surely I’m not the first.”

“I think Jinyoung, a friend, might have said it.” I shrug, resigned in the fact loneliness has been a steady companion.

The packs in the woods rejected me if I didn’t refuse to join them. Too savage, too beastly, too ambitious, too bloodthirsty. Those are the prime reasons I have been on my own, although one in particular resonates in the blurry mess of vague memories.

I am too monstrous.

“But I,” halted in the middle of the gravel path, I turn to her and rest my forehead against hers, “like being with you too.”

Her heartbeat speeds up as her scent gains a floral, roseate undertone. A flush stains her cheeks, the temperature of her body heightened. In a moment’s notice, she has turned into a beautiful spring flower. No, not a flower. Y/N is more than that.

Like a she-wolf in spring.

In season.

That’s what she looks like.

So pretty. Mine.

I have to pull away before I sweep her off her feet and mate her against the first tree we come across. We don’t even need a tree, a simple bed of grass will suffice. After all, I still want her to be comfortable.

“Did... Did you dye your hair?” Flustered, looking like a lobster, the pretty lady pulls away. However, the growl that erupts from the throat as she moves away brings an interesting change to her scent.

A thick heady tone creeps into it, which definitely puts the girl in the other role the other ego wishes her to play.

A bitch in heat.

An image of her looking as she does now but on my bed flashes by. Tears are brimming on her lashes like crystalline raindrops as pearly teeth bite down on a finger in the futile attempt to mute meek high-pitched squeals of pleasure. She’s lying sideways, the soft skin of her leg on my shoulder while my hips lose control in her warmth.

“J- Jaebeom?”

I suck in a sharp breath, though it does not prevent a pleased growl from escaping. My sight grows hazy with the fantasies of instinct as the world falls away. “Yeah?”

“Your hair... Did you dye it? It was blonde before.”

“My... my hair?” The weird question pulls me out of my reverie, blinking in wonder as to where it comes from. Nevertheless, the senses quickly sharpen as I tighten my grip on the reality of my temporary humanity again. “Right, my hair. I did! I did dye it because... because I thought the blonde didn’t suit me.”

“For what it’s worth,” like a shy schoolgirl, Y/N fumbles with her fingers, “I like this better. This is going to sound weird, but it makes you look more like- I mean, it suits you better.”

“Thank you. But what does it make me look like?”

“Never mind.” A dismissive hand brushes the half-finished remark off as a mere mistake.

“What? What do I look like?” I lean forward, barely holding in the chuckle at her crumbling composure. Notwithstanding, apparently this is the most effective way to get her to talk. “Don’t be shy.”

“Like a- You know, a- You’ll think me stuck in some emo or late teenager phase.”

“Just say it, Y/N. I won’t stop pushing until you tell me. I won’t judge you either. So, tell me.”

The word takes my breath away.

“Wolf,” she finally answers. “It makes you look like a wolf.”

I can’t suppress a smile at the compliment, buzzing with excitement and tail swishing back and forth. Wait, it isn’t my tail that’s causing the low sweeping noises.

It’s merely the wind.

Human. Gent... Gentleman. For her. Her gentleman.

“Please say something.” The pretty lady’s heart rate picks up, her scent growing alarmingly anxious like when we had our second meeting on the street.

No. No, don’t be like this!

“Good. I am.”

“What do you mean?” Brows furrowed in confusion, she looks at me blankly.

“What... oh, uhm, I- I think it’s a good ex- mirror. Likeness! It’s a good likeness. Me and a wolf.” I stick up a thumb in confirmation. Hopefully, it won’t come across as ridiculous as I feel I look.

Her eyes light up with the amber sunlight, her voice as bright when she answers with an adorable giggle. “I think you mean a good comparison.”

“I do,” I mutter, ashamed at the faulty imitation of human behaviour and tired of the storm of words wreaking havoc in my head. “That’s what I meant.”

“Shall we go find somewhere to sit?’’ Her hair dances on the light breeze as she looks around. ‘’I’m kinda overdue for a cup of coffee.”

“And food. You have to eat, Y/N.”

“Jaebeom...”

‘’Let me take care of you.” I lean in, gaze focused on her lips as I run my tongue over them. The taste of honey and peaches is reminiscent of spring, when the bees in the forest get busy and the trees in the orchards on the outskirts of the town are ripe with blossom.

If I’m still here by then, I’ll take you there.

Of course, the thought is translated horribly. “Taste nice.”

“I- I’m glad you like my lip balm.” Cheeks as ruby red as the leaves beneath our feet, she carefully traces her mouth, fingers shaking.

Then she clears her throat and tries to steady her composure, but I’ve evidently caught her off-guard. Which is also noticeable in the small tug on my sleeve. “Let’s go.”

“Are you upset?” I ask, keeping a close eye on her as we walk down the lane towards a big open field of grass.

“No, it’s just that... when you licked me earlier, it wasn’t on,” she lowers her voice to a barely audible and unintelligible murmur though my hearing allows me to still hear her as clear as day, “the lips. It’s almost as if, you know, you kiss... kissed me.”

Kiss?

Just then we pass a couple with their lips pressed against each other. The contact lingers for a brief second, as fast as lightning.

And just as fast the meaning of it for humans dawns on me, rising from the ever-diminishing pocket of humanity inside my brain.

“Would you mind if I did?”

Face pale, she rapidly turns to me. Y/N parts her lips to say something yet decides against it and settle for something else. “Let’s start slowly. Get to know each other first.”

I’d kiss you. You only have to ask.

But we barely know each other. Humans who don’t have a close bond don’t kiss. At least that piece of information has stuck.

We take a right onto the big field and settle down in the grass beneath a tall willow. I’d rather have we sit huddled together or that she sits on my lap so I can keep her warm, but Y/N sits next to me yet far enough away to not touch at all. The displeased whimper and whine get lost in the unpacking of the sandwiches, ignored under the ruckus of unfolding paper.

Notwithstanding, the dissatisfaction evaporates like snow before the sun when a small hand gives me the two venison sandwiches. Restraining myself to not give into the hunger pangs, I accept the food as if she were handing me a weapon. A long metal blade. A sword, I believe it’s called.

However, the careful control doesn’t last long since the first taste of the spiced meat encourages the ravenous part of me to devour the sandwich in one gulp, if possible. And I would have tried had it not been for the breathless giggle at my side.

Nibbling on the straw, Y/N has a strangely tender look on her face as she watches me eat. A wonderful expression that colours a rosy shade of pink when she notices I’m staring right back at her. “Sorry. It’s just... just that I like seeing you eat. You literally wolf your food down with such a happy expression I can’t help but feel happy.”

Don’t talk with your mouth full. Jinyoung’s told you that more than once.

Like this morning, when he sighed in exasperation like a tired father during breakfast. Henceforth, I chew the food with my mouth closed, swallow and wipe my mouth on a napkin before answering. “I’m a messy eater, though. I don’t think it’s- What’s the word? Ap- Appetizing? It’s appetizing, right? Right, appetizing to watch.”

“I don’t mind.” Like a rabbit, she holds her vegetable sandwich between her tiny paws and takes a small bite out of it. “Just be careful. You don’t want meat juice and sauce on your clothes.”

Eats like a bunny. Cute. So cute.

“I won’t make a mess,” I murmur, taking care to actually keep my word while sneaking glances at the way she eats. It’s controlled, more nibbling than biting. All the same, relief and contentment mix in a calming way that’s visible in her relaxed composure. Even her scent loses more of the sourness of anxiety. But I’m just glad she’s eating.

We watch other humans as we eat, sitting in comfortable silence. A little ways away, two old people, a male and a female, sit on a bench and feed the pigeons together. Once there is no more bread left - multigrain, judging by the scent - their fingers entwine as they close their eyes to soak up the sunlight.

A soft whine unintentionally rises in my throat, longing after the dream of experiencing that very same moment myself together with Y/N someday.

‘’Are you-?’’ The question doesn’t register, hardly penetrating the dullness washing over me. Ears gloomily drooped down, I continue staring at the old couple.

Can that be us one day? How long is the road before we get there?

‘’JB?’’

‘’Hm?’’ Slowed down by the heaviness making a numb statue out of this body, I turn my head.

She holds the unfinished sandwich up I had in my hand a second ago. ‘’What’s on your mind?’’

‘’Nothing.’’ I take the food from her little paw. ‘’Thank you.’’

She doesn’t believe me, but resigns in the face of the unspoken message I don’t want to talk. Instead, she sighs and sips on the straw of her coffee.

“What do you do?” I ask by the time I’m finished with the first of the two sandwiches. Y/N knows what I do for a living and it’s the best question I can think of to try and get to know her better. Also, it might lift the heavy silence that fell over us until the elderly mates left.

“I’m a journalist for Pack. It’s a travel magazine and a great way to see the world. It’s amazing how much is out there, how many cultures and perspectives exist. However,” hands tucked between her thighs, lashes avert to the ground, “as you may have noticed, I’m not the spontaneous sort, which is why I don’t like working alone.”

Pack? As in, a pack? Although, you said travel so it’s likely... pack stuff? Packing up! That’s it! Putting stuff in bags and going somewhere.

If only it was possible to travel with her someplace far away. Go see the world together so she doesn’t have to be alone. Then again, there is no way to run from myself nor guarantee any form of safety on strange grounds.

I’ve become too unstable.

Despite trying to hide it, the jealousy I have for who she works with shows in the unintentionally venomous ring in my voice. “Who do you work with?”

“A colleague of mine named Kunpimook, but he prefers going by BamBam. He’s the social and truly adventurous one, so basically I just always happily tag along. Plus, his photos are superb. We’ll be leaving for Bruges the day after tomorrow to take a look at the local chocolate business.”

‘’Is there anything between you two? More than work?” There is no way I’m letting another male anywhere near her because he could take advantage of her. Especially after all this time, working together and thus winning her trust.

I don’t care if we barely know each other. I won’t have it.

I have to keep her safe.

As Y/N’s gentleman.

Her wolf.

“There’s nothing between us. He’s more like a brother than anything else and he thinks the same about me.” Her breath quickens as she notices the blazing distrust in my gaze. “W- Why are you looking at me like that?”

Instead of giving an answer, I sniff her to make absolutely certain this other male doesn’t have or has tried already to create the bond with her that I want despite what she said.

Nothing.

Nothing but summer citrus, autumnal blackberries and juicy peaches.

Good.

To calm her down, I lean in to nuzzle the scent glands in her neck while purring and manipulating my own scent to put her at ease. The tenseness in the palms on my shoulders relaxes, her breaths come at a more regular interval and the rigidity flows from her body.

You’re safe with me.

A gentle force pushes me back, growing stronger as I fight it by wrapping my arms around her waist. A low growl erupts as the resistance persists, though it dies down at the sound. I’m not letting her go.

Not now.

Not yet.

Until a voice like a shy robin stammers in discomfort. “Jaebeom, can- can you let go?”

“Have you calmed down?” It’s an unnecessary question.

There’s a better word for it. Sup... supper? No, that’s not it. Super... something with an ‘f’.

Superfluous!

It’s a superfluous question because the nervous shivers have stopped. All the same, I don’t want to let go.

I can’t.

I won’t.

Yet I do as something blurry flashes by in my peripheral vision. Almost bumping my head against her jaw, I jolt up and stare ahead in tender awe.

Free of the troubles of the world, a brightly smiling pup runs by with outstretched chubby paws. A bit ahead, there’s another giddy pup. The two must be chasing each other.

A child.

A child is chasing another child.

“What are you looking at?” She follows my gaze, which is fixated on the two children giggling and play-fighting with each other. They stop when hearing their mother call, rise to their little hind legs and run to her.

“One day, I want pups of my own.” The dreamy words roll off the tongue without a thought nor consideration for reality. What they see is what could be.

A dream of someday.

“Pups?” The word sounds like a puzzle piece that doesn’t quite fit even though she struggles to make it fit regardless.

“Yeah, pups. You know,” I nod in the direction of the two siblings, “like those over there.”

A frown mars her lovely face, but it fades into gentle correction. “Children, JB. They’re called children.”

I tilt my head to the side, struggling to understand and make my own puzzle piece fit. “I’m certain someone’s offspring are called pups.”

“Humans,” she gestures from me to her, “like us, call them children. Babies when they’re younger than those toddlers you were watching.”

“I still think pups sounds better.”

I let go of her. Nevertheless, sust to be sure Y/N stays warm, I hook my arm through hers and keep her against my side. Instinctively, she snuggles up to me like on the way here.

The content sigh goes accompanied with an ironic remark. “Are you really a wolf or something?”

“Yes!” I exclaim, until I check my body and see no paws nor a tail. “No! I mean, no, I’m not. It sounds adorable, though, don’t you think?” I bite my lip, growing warm with another cheesy yet affectionate remark. “But you did say I look like one.”

“I stand by what I said, especially now.” She giggles, murmuring something under her breath I’ll only tolerate when she says it. “Weirdo.”

Yours. Your weirdo. Your wolf man.

“Have you ever thought about getting them?”

“I actually don’t want children. I’m not too keen on the idea of raising a child and I don’t think that will ever change.” Unaware of the gravity of her statement, she sits up a bit, takes a sip of coffee and finishes her half-eaten vegetable sandwich.

Not... not even with me? Then again, you barely know me and I will likely forget you even though I don’t want to. Would you change your mind if the pup might be the only trace of me before I disappear?

“How about you?”

“I’d like to one day, but...” I trail off, choking on the truth. Her words have created a stone in my stomach which makes me nauseous and unable to think.

“But what?” She places a bunny-like paw on my back, rubbing gently as she averts her gaze and speaks in a remorseful tone. “I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry.”

“I have this...” Fumbling with my fingers, I speak up despite the paralyzing speechlessness. No word seems to accurately describe what’s going on nor is it credible enough to describe the truth. Nevertheless, she has to know what’s going on.

I want her to.

I trust her.

So I try and tell her my story. “I have this condition. I have trouble remembering things and it’s been getting worse.”

“Is it something like dementia?” Out of a lack of a better explanation for this side-effect of lycanthropy, I merely nod in confirmation. A grim paleness colours her attitude, lips pulling into a straight line as she’s now suffocating with words too. “Do you have medication? Anything to help fight it?”

I fish the small bottle of pills Jinyoung gave me this morning out of my pocket. With a thumb over the ingredients, I show it to her. “My friend’s a doctor at the university. He’s put me on these, but I have a feeling they’re not as effective anymore as they once were.” I put the bottle back. “I do want them, though not with the way I am. They deserve better than a father who’d forget them eventually if he even remembers them at all in the first place. Moreover, my partner would have to take care of me as well as the pups. I just… I don’t want to be a burden.”

“I’m sure,” our gazes meet as our fingers entwine, naturally weaving together like beds of moss on the bark of a tree, “they would gladly care if they know about your condition.”

I rest my forehead against hers and lower my voice to a hopeful whimper. “You know about it.”

A mistake.

“We’ve just met.”

“Right,” I murmur and withdraw though I hold on to her paw a little tighter.

She’s right. We’ve just met.

I’m still a stranger. A stranger in a world strange to him.

“Yet,” Y/N takes in a shaky breath before she continues and transforms the burden of loneliness into a storm of butterflies, “I’d stay. For now, can I stay by your side like this?”

“Of course.” In an impulse, I pull her into my arms and on my lap. Her hair smells like argan oil, sweet yet pleasant like summer. “Never doubt that. Never think I don’t want you to.”

Despite the joy, tears sting in my eyes at the realization I’m no longer alone, surviving like a floating ship in unknown waters. Of course, there’s Jinyoung, but he can’t be there in ways the pretty lady can.

Y/N is my anchor now.

“Don’t go.” I can’t suppress an ugly sob, gripped by fear at the vision of ending up alone in spite of the promise. To go back to the way I was, on the brink of being lost forever. “Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t,” she murmurs into my hair, lovingly running her fingers through it to calm me down. “I’m here, Jaebeom. I’m here. Until I can’t anymore.”

For a little while, we sit like this beneath the willow. The world shrinks and fades into a blur of autumn shades in October, its sounds gradually becoming nothing more than indistinguishable white noise.

They rise in volume again when I’ve stopped crying, the reality filtering in by sharpening the song of robins and nature dressed in warm tones of red and gold.

We exchange numbers. As she types hers into my phone, she promises to send me daily reminders to take my medicine and threatens to spam me with them until I send a confirmation. Guess I finally have something to look forward to aside from Jinyoung’s cooking.

Coming back was a good decision after all. I want to try for you. Until I can’t anymore.

“And you can call me whenever you like too,” she shyly remarks as we switch back our devices.

My ears perk up as a delighted buzz leaves me trembling. “Really?” I yelp, my tail quickly swishing back and forth. My nerves are on edge with delight, limbs ready to pounce on her. But I don’t.

Because I am human.

And I don’t want to give off the wrong impression.

But your body tells me something else. No! Not without your consent.

“Yes, because I... well, aside from being with you, I like... your... your voice.”

“I like yours.” I lean in and run my tongue over her lips like before. Does that count as a kiss?

“And I like your scent,” I add, purring as I trace my fingers over her arm to her wrist.

“Uhm, Jaebeom, what- what are you doing?”

I press it against my nose, drunkenly nuzzling it while trying to conceal my panting. “I’m scenting you so they’ll know you’re mine.” To strengthen the claim, I leave a stronger imprint of my own scent on her by giving it a firm lick. Even her skin tastes of spring. “You smell really nice.”

“I’m glad you, ah, like my perfume, but,” a strange panic creeps into her voice after a pained squeak when I sink my teeth into her flesh, “JB, I think you should stop. People are watching.”

“Let them.’’ The taste of iron floods the senses, raising the beast within further to the surface. Notwithstanding, I fight the urge to pin her to the ground for a proper mating. So all I do is help the healing by licking the ridged skin of the shallow wound. A wolf’s saliva works as a disinfectant and anti- ant- health advancer. ‘’I want them to know I’m your mate.”

Besides, how else am I supposed to mark you?

“Mate? What? JB, are you okay? You’re starting to make less and less sense.” A small warm palm cups my cheek, initiating a lock of gazes. Frantic with concern, she searches for a reason as to what I’m going through in my gaze though I doubt if she will. “You’re burning up.”

I weave my fingers through those on the side of my face, a wistful smile on my lips. “I’m forgetting myself again. You wouldn’t understand when I’d say I’m slowly fading and not just forgetting as I told you. And it’s gotten worse because of you.”

“Be- Because of me?”

“It’s not a bad thing.” To assure her it’s not as grave as she thinks, I close my eyes and hum in pure content. After all, I could lose my humanity a lot faster in a less pleasant way. At least it’ll be slower now that I have something to fight, to live for. “You don’t understand the significance of it and I don’t want you to.”

“You’re talking nonsense. You’re not going anywhere soon. Let’s go home before your fever gets any worse.”

Our fingers disentangle, mine gliding over the indentation I’ve left behind on her wrist before I wrap my arms around her waist. Her heart races in my ear when I rest my head on the softness of her breasts, her breath falling still in an instant when I place her hand on my head. Hopefully, Y/N will catch on to what I mean by it. “Yeah, it’s definitely getting worse, but I looked forward to this. This park outing. So can we please stay like this for a little longer? A nap might make me feel... bet... ter.”

The wish is granted, because she runs her hand through my hair. Hesitantly at first, but quickly setting a pace for herself that lets me rest tranquilly.

In the sky above, the moon looks down on us. If I wasn’t sleepy, I would howl to it and sing a wolf song. Instead, I purr and bask in my mate’s presence until I lose conscience. “Hm, nice.”

I love you and always will. My love will never change. I swear so by the moon.

#GOT7 #GOT7 smut #Jaebeom #Im Jaebeom #GOT7 x Reader #Werewolf AU #Jaebeom x Reader #Werewolf!Jaebeom

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theninjasheeep · 3 years

Text

Blood of Love

Pairing: Pieck Finger x Porco Galliard (Modern/Fantasy AU)

This is my entry for @pleasantanathema’s Through Ink and Quill | A Classics Collab. I decided to go for a character study of Porco and Pieck's relationship following my Pokkopiku week piece Sweet Pandemonium paired with some vampire lore from Dracula and Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles.

The idea of vampire!Pokkopiku came from @sinnamon19’s over the top fan art.

You can also read it on AO3.

Summary: Since they are creatures of the night, their senses, as their feelings are heightened to lengths that can’t be explained by words. But since blood is their life sustenance, it is also their means of communication.

Warnings/tags: Pokopiku, Pokkopiku, Gallipieck, Porco Galliard/ Pieck Finger, Porco Galliard x Pieck Finger, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Character Turned Into Vampire, Vampire Bites, Vampire Turning, Blood Drinking, Mentions of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Blood Sharing.

Blood of Love

Waking up in darkness after spending most of his life shunning the sun when he wanted to sleep late was a welcome change for Porco. He could lie and pretend he was one of those humans-turned-vampires who wailed about the sun, its warmth and brightness and how much he missed it, but he didn't.

He didn't miss the impending sense of foreboding dread that clogged his senses or the tacit expectation that life should have some kind of meaning. It was a succession of routines: being born, growing up, reproducing and dying; waking up, going to work or school, coming home, going to sleep and starting again the next day. There was always an unsatisfied craving, a need to be satiated that gave rise to another....

If it weren't for that same life and the unexpected, he would still be stuck in the routine of a life that no longer felt like one. Not so long ago he was eager to die and escape the curse of boredom. However, now that he was undead, he felt more alive than ever.

He didn't miss living as a human.

He did not miss the wars that sent young men like him to fight in battles and advocate for ideals that were in no sense his own. Wars like the ones that took his brother away from him, wars that made mothers cry and lose their lives to grief, like his. He didn't miss being part of a greater good, he fancied being selfish, living only for himself and what he deemed worthy of living for, like Pieck.

Pieck who turned him, Pieck who gave him a reason to live in hope and love.

The stories that are told about vampires are rich and wide-ranging. The majority depict them as cold and devoid of emotion creatures who enjoy drinking blood and playing with their mortal victims without any consideration or pity, with no regard for their suffering.

Dracula is the one that, for Porco, is closest to the truth. Leaving out, naturally, his own inability to turn into mist, a bat or a wolf, and how terribly he has fared with the latter when he has encountered them on his nightly hunts with Pieck high in the mountains, puts him quite a distance from what is supposed to be the blueprint for all vampires.

It has been less than fifteen years since Pieck agreed to turn him and allow him to stay with her forever. Overall, he could even be considered a novice vampire, at least in comparison to the more than two hundred years his female partner has been crisscrossing the planet. However, it has been long enough to learn what is both necessary and appropriate, but what the books say is, amongst other things, preposterous and out of proportion.

Porco's hazel eyes, in the darkness of the room, shine like two torches as they scan the words in each book with unprecedented speed.

The library, nestled in Pieck's hideout in an abandoned town once called Liberio, is about the same size as the house itself. To the unsuspecting eye, the house is a dilapidated old manor from which thieves plundered the treasures long ago, leaving only the massive stone and iron columns. Underneath, however, is a hidden cellar and a sealed passageway that can only be opened with the supernatural strength of a creature like Pieck. Not even he, with his years beside her and the same superhuman strength, is able to open it without visible effort.

Once that initial obstacle is overcome, a long corridor rises up with small windows that let in just enough light to clue the nighttime inhabitants as to what time of day they are in. And behind that corridor is a scaled-down replica of the ruined house that exists above ground: three bedrooms, a kitchen - more out of habit than necessity - a living room and a huge bathroom with a bathtub built into the wall, in addition to the library, make up what could be considered Porco and Pieck's home sweet home.

Although it is ridiculous, Porco is not going to stop enjoying his reading and perusing every nook and cranny of the library while Pieck, with all her quirks, tries to do some vampire yoga in the room across on their home.

Stories about vampires always depict them as a kind of blood-drinking skeleton barely able to articulate words and unfit to walk freely in broad daylight, as the sun is their greatest enemy. The only thing they got right is that their skin burns and the acrid smell of ashes is the only thing that lingers in the air after they perish.

In other stories, they are portrayed as having no emotional capacity and could be easily mistaken for an angsty teenagers searching for their identity and place in the world, with little to no impulse control, driven by their whims, manipulating their way until they achieve their goal. In these tales, the depiction is so over-the-top ridiculous that it is almost comparable to handing a child a panic button.

What is undeniable is the enormous capacity of humans to envision and demonize what they do not know.

Superhuman strength and speed, mind reading and control, morphing into wolves, bats and mist? The books detail how versatile their powers are, how they are able to cloak themselves, thanks to their human appearance, and hide for long periods of time in large communities and lead a relatively normal life, without arousing suspicion.

Although there are also accounts that refer to them as ruthless, cruel and stone-cold beings, who toy with the humans they intend to use as food until they have had enough, and only then, kill them in the most violent and painful way possible.

At this, Porco rolls his eyes. In his experience, both he and Pieck are careful with the humans they feed on. They always look for ways not to cause them pain or fear, and above all, to avoid leaving behind scenes worthy of a gorey b-movie.

Perhaps the only time such a scene involved the two of them was when Pieck agreed to transform him into a vampire.

There was a moment where he couldn’t see or speak anything and everything went black for him. He started to listen to a heartbeat, two actually. One was his... the other...

“Pieck?” He asks. He can hear her voice somewhere in the distance, it sounds pained and far, far away.

Meanwhile, Pieck keeps pouring her blood on Porco’s mouth and is silently praying to whatever it is that created them and allowed them to be alive for him to survive this ordeal. She’s panicking now because he’s very pale, dead by now, but he’s not responding to her calling like he is supposed to.

“Porco, wake up!” She cries. “Open your eyes,” She pleads. “Come to me!”

Nothing happens and Pieck panics, falling in a circle of self loathing.

Giving up on him, she lets her head fall on his chest and at this point she’s just a mess of guilt and anguish. Her hair is on her face and his shirt is all bloody with his blood, her blood, her tears. She can’t move, the will to do anything has left her completely so she just lays there beside him on the floor crying.

He hasn’t read anything that depicts accurately how they are created. Probably humans think they just popped out of nowhere. However, vampires themselves have a myth: Ymir Fritz was the first human turned into a vampire, many call her the Founder. She was a slave but became Queen of Eldia when King Fritz was unable to defeat her in battle. He surrendered and married her and, in turn, she made him into a vampire and together they gave birth to their species.

Where are they now? No one knows, they are probably marble statues, since the longer a vampire lives, the whiter and rougher their skin becomes.

One book in particular catches his eye: its dark blue cover with gold sparkles featuring a nine-pointed star, the symbol of Ymir Fritz. However, after a brief glance, he discovers that it is a parody.

Porco snorts, he can't believe he's found a book in which vampires don't roast in the sun, but glow like a fairy in plain daylight without any repercussions for their lives. Pieck must have been really bored to get —and keep— something like that and deem it worthy of their huge underground library.

"Have you found anything interesting, Pokko?" Pieck's mellow voice reaches his ears from the bedroom. Her body doesn't make any sounds when she moves, but her soft breathing tells him that she's still trying to do vampire yoga, as if she needs to.

"Geez, Pieck!" Her taunting giggle is the only response he gets, and aware that she can also hear him from where she is, he retorts: "You scared the hell out of me." He grumbles in fake annoyance.

"Don’t worry, you won’t have a heart attack."

“Tch.”

But it is true, no matter how much she may sneak up behind him to scare him, his heart has long since stopped beating, and if he had remained a human, he would most likely have died many years ago. When Pieck came into his life one night, wounded and seeking shelter, he had lost the will to live. All that remained from the happy Porco who lived with his parents and brother was a mere shell that always reminded him of how much he resembled Marcel. And had he lived, despite his desire to die, he would have been almost forty years old by now.

Putting the books aside and getting up from the floor, Porco makes his way to the bathroom where there is a huge full-length mirror, which he and Pieck use in such creative ways when they make love at night.

A derisive smirk tugs at his lips as his reflection glances back at him through the mirror. There are stories that claim vampires don't see themselves in mirrors and that's the reason they avoid them. If only whoever wrote that knew the things the mirror in his bathroom has seen him do to Pieck.

Sometimes, when he is overcome by melancholy and Pieck's love and company fail to reach the deepest wounds in his heart, Porco wishes that particular myth were real. What would his life be if his brother were alive? What would Marcel's life be if the war hadn't extinguished the light in his eyes? The same deep green eyes that right now were scrutinizing his every feature in the mirror.

As the years have gone by, his skin has become paler and his eyes more golden. Pieck likes to say that he is slowly turning into a lion.

Speaking of Pieck...

A slender hand appears over his right shoulder in the mirror, and down his arm until it curls around his waist. Seconds later, the weight of Pieck's head resting on the space between his shoulder blades confirms that he is no longer alone in front of the mirror.

“Hey,” She greets, nuzzling against him tenderly, “what are you thinking?”

He clears his throat, embarrassed.

His left hand reaches up and intertwines his fingers with Pieck's over his chest, and looking behind him, his gaze meets hers.

“My brother.”

Pieck's embrace grows tighter and a line of kisses and scratches from her fangs on his neck make Porco forget, for a moment, how much he misses his family.

“I’m sorry.”

“You know they were long gone before I met you.”

“I know, it’s just...” She releases her hold on him, walking a few steps to stand in front of him in the mirror, her back against it. “I wish I could ease your pain, but I’d be lying if I say that I never think about my father, I miss him.”

Porco raises his hand to caress her cheeks. “You’re stuck with me forever, remember?”

She smiles softly, leaning against him and hugging him back. Porco buries his face on her neck and taking advantage of their embrace, sinks his teeth on her neck, making her moan in delight.

There’s another thing the books about them seem to ignore or purposefully miss: yes, they are creatures of the night and as their senses, their feelings are heightened to lengths that can’t be explained by words. But since blood is their life sustenance, it is also their means of communication. Drinking the blood of another vampire is a gesture so intimate and so rare, that when it’s done by partners, it’s more than just a confession of love and trust, it goes beyond lust and desire: a vampire can show what they feel through images to their partner when they share their blood, and since words are not his forte by any means, he’s always eager to show Pieck comfort and reciprocate everyday the comfort and peace she gave him.

Licking the tiny marks of his fags on her neck, he nuzzles against it, kissing her tenderly. Pieck, being smaller than him, has a harder time reciprocating his gesture, but she stands on her tiptoes and kisses him back, biting his lower lip and drinking his blood as well.

Emboldened by the gesture, he carries her and sits her in the sink, standing between her legs without breaking the kiss. At this, Pieck leverages herself on his shoulders and —finally— sinks her teeth on his neck, eliciting from him a low growl. He bites her back and through their blood they both convey to each other what their words and their hands, roaming over every inch of the other' s body, cannot: they are together until the end of time and the sadness that each one carries is shared by the other.

Together, they were safe.

#pokopiku fic #pokopiku #pokkopiku fic #pokkopiku #porco galliard/pieckfinger #porco galliard x pieck finger #gallipieck #vampire aesthetic #dark fantasy

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anika-ann · 3 years

Text

WINSoD - Pt.5

If One Should Fall...

Type: series, soulmate AU series (part 1, part 2, part 3)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 3120

Summary: In which distribution of forces on the stones-retrieving mission changes. Because— reasons.The reason being a special visit someone pays you.

Warnings!: skip to post-Infinity War and the summary of it - you can imagine; deaths, violence....briefly tho, + language, mention of the inability to bear children, brief suicidal thoughts, kinda religious motives because SPN

A/N: Enormous time skip, because obviously CA:CW didn’t happen and the timeline is changed from canon already. Also, the title (What I’d Never Say or Do had I been in my right mind) is reeeeeally applicable in this one and somehow… it felt right to connect the chapters like this. Do not murder me…?

Part 4

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Forever was a funny word. A funny concept, perhaps. People always said they wished for some moments to last forever and what they meant was for them to last as long as possible, with no change in sight. Or they said that something unpleasant felt like it lasted forever, their souls craving an end of the misery, a fundamental change as the polar opposite to the first case.

You lived through both in the past years.

Sitting on your ass in a Wakandian palace, watching a battle unfold in front of you, an ensemble of great warriors fighting yet another army from space, that felt like forever, a never-ending nightmare and you only got to watch.

It set a pattern for you for several more years to come. To only watch.

You watched an alien creature steal the sceptre that the Avengers had decided to store in the palace and it did so while killing everything in its way. Princess Shuri had the great idea of hiding you and cuffing you so you wouldn’t stand in the creature’s path while she tried to stop it with the others. She ended up in shattered glass, only unconscious, as if thanks to a miracle.

You watched as… as she fell apart to ashes only minutes later; just like many, oh so many others.

Half of the population, they said.

Thanos, The Mad Titan, had wiped half of all living creatures.

The moment was carved into your brain forever. And the eternal time you waited for anyone to come back from the battle, to see Steve alive, because God, please, let him live – yes, that sure as hell felt like forever too.

Lives were lost. Bucky, Sam, Ryan, Wanda, Pietro, Peter, Shuri, T’Challa, Strange, Fury… the list went on and on. All of them, gone. Forever.

The world changed. Avengers ow officially didn’t exist and yet recruited new members all over the freakin’ space, which was the only way of finding out Tony Stark, who had disappeared on a spaceship, in fact, survived.

The missions of the greatest defenders of Earth changed as well. Some members took off to start a family, lucky enough to still have a partner to do so. Or to have the ability to pass their genes.

You couldn’t. Or maybe Steve couldn’t, it didn’t matter. You never pried after the source of your inability to have children; you two were one, a unity. You didn’t want to know so you could point fingers. You could tell Steve blamed himself, as well as he knew that your irregular period was definitely not helping. You made your peace. In fact, you admired Tony for finding the courage to create an environment for a child in this mad world; your lack of faith in being able to do the same had the opportunity rose ironically helped you to come to terms with the fact of your body was not functioning right.

In a way, it only drew you and Steve closer. You had valued each other before, yes, but now… you truly were like one. You backed him up in how he decided to honour Sam’s memory by starting a support group and he was the one to sense that in a search for reassurance, strangely materialistic, you craved an official bond with him, despite never saying a word.

You were Steve’s wife now – and you were each other’s rock, even during the poor attempt at defeating Thanos again.

Five years was a long time, a forever, one might say, but when Scott Lang, one of the people believed to been dusted, reappeared, forever and never became relative again.

Which led you to now; what was left of the Earth’s mightiest heroes was planning on retrieving the infinity stones.

Because they figured out how to time-travel.

Observing your reflection in the mirror, the circles under your eyes, you couldn’t but run your hand down your face and sigh.

You were still struggling with accepting the incredible fact of the possibility of coming back in time, yet you had to shush the hope inside you. Hope was a dangerous thing; certainly on such big scale as everything could being as it had been, hope that all the people who had lost their lives during the Snap could be resurrected.

As for a person who in fact had died once, it was easier for you to believe it was possible and you weren’t sure that it was a good thing. The fear of losing what you still had – read Steve, mainly – in the process, was paralyzing. It would mean your end, one you might deliver by yourself if it came to it, because you weren’t as strong as your husband. You wouldn’t make it through. Not after everything that happened.

You sighed again and tried to shake off the darkest thoughts.

When your eyes fell on the reflection again, a man stood behind your shoulder.

You spun on your heels and jerked away, your bottom bumping into the sink with a startled yelp escaping your lips.

In a fraction of second, several ways of defending yourself flashed through you mind; but the man was already three feet away; in a blink of an eye, before you could even move further.

Chest heaving with frantic breaths, hand over your heart, you stared at the intruder dressed in a three-piece suit and a red cravat. Of average height and maybe few pounds over healthy weight, smoothly shaven so his smirk could stand out, he looked… peculiar, especially given the fact he had found himself in the ladies’ room.

It shouldn’t have surprised you he spoke up with some kind of an accent on top of everything, but it did.

“Saving the world is exhausting, isn’t it?”

You stared at him, speechless. Your brain kicked into an overdrive, analysing how much of a threat he was, if he was like Pietro, too fast for Friday to catch him, or what was he-

“Who the-“

“I’m Crowley, darling. And you don’t need look so scared. If I wanted you dead, you’d be already lying here in a puddle of blood,” he reassured you like a sleazy businessman, all pretence at kindness.

You winced at the visual and narrowed your eyes.

“Alright, Crowley, what do you want? And what exactly are you?” you demanded, uncertain why you felt calm despite the man appearing out of thin air and speaking of you dying in the bloodiest way. Were you truly so numb these days?

He smiled, as if he was old friend. “I am a friend of Moose and Squirrel-“ What. “-or Sam and Dean, as you know them. I have no doubt they mentioned me. After all, my mother is assisting them more than she would like. You met her, incidentally.”

It didn’t take a genius to figure it out – you hadn’t met many people during your time with the Winchesters. This man… was probably a warlock. A witch. Rowena apparently had a son.

Well. Shit.

“Okay. So… you’re a witch or something. Means I shouldn’t trust you fully. Noted. Now what do you want?”

His face twisted in a theatrical insulted grimace, his palm laid on his chest as if you just shot him through the heart – which, by the way, would probably do nothing to him.

“First of all, I am here to help, so I don’t think you have other option than trusting me. Second of all, I am not a witch, I am the King of Hell, thank you very much-“

Somewhere in the back of your mind, Sam Winchester’s voice whispered something about the King of Hell having been Dean’s bestie for a while, which did not make you feel any better, only more confused.

“And thirdly… I’m here to tell you what you, my darling, need to do for this mission to be successful.”

You stared at him incredulously, his casual stance and animated speech bewildering, and had no clue what to make of it.

Yet, you let him speak. You let him give you the advice no one ever wanted to receive. Ever. But this sleazy man had told you about how he had saved the world before, side by side with the Winchesters and everything suddenly made sense.

Crowley, the King of Hell, answered the most burning question you had been asking yourself ever since coming back from the death, doing so more and more often these days.

Why.

Why were you given the second chance at life? Why you of all people? What was the purpose?

And now you knew.

Rowena was the greatest witch the supernatural world had ever created and she supposedly looked through all the possible futures she could. Tony had once told you, drunk and hurting, that Strange had done the same right before the battle and he only saw one way of how it could end with Thanos’ loss. Now Crowley told you the ‘one’ future was still in play, that everything was actually still on the way to the world’s victory.

The price of victory was high. History had taught you that.

But the price people paid for losing was higher.

And as much as you hated what you apparently had to do…

“Okay,” you rasped, guilt already gnawing at your chest, tears strolling down your face, fear eating you up from the inside, fear of unknown and yet known, instincts fighting the urge to do the right thing and finally actually help to the heroes you found yourself among while still useless.

You were only watching too long. Forever, one might say.

“Okay?” he echoed, clearly surprised by your antics.

You only nodded, wiping away your tears and forcing your breathing to calm and steady. There was no way you could go back to the base of operating in the living room like this. You needed to be a fucking grown-up. Grown-ups had to be okay with not being okay. You must finally become worthy of being Captain Amer- Steve’s wife.

“Yes, Crowley. I’ll do it. Though I still have no idea why you came here to tell me. Aren’t you supposed to be the bad guy?” you teased him lightly, your mouth speaking its will without permission, the question only half-expecting an answer.

“Well, my darling. It’s the end of the world as we know it. It doesn’t matter now if you’re good or bad. Not if you want the world not to end.”

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

You were a terrible actress; a Razzies-nominee kind of actress. You couldn’t lie to save your life (the irony of such statement was not lost on you, yet it wasn’t properly appreciated either) and you were aware of the fact that Steve liked that about you. You could never lie to him. So you never tried.

You knew you couldn’t break that streak now, because he would see right through you. So you stooped lower than ever. Omitting the truth. Lying by not sharing the whole story. Whether you could make that work, only time would tell.

When you finally managed to compose yourself – at least more or less – and exited the bathroom, you found out that not much had changed. The team was still debating the details of best approach, uncertain but determined expressions on their faces.

Steve spared once glace at you and instantly was able to tell something was wrong. He hid you from the view of the others by his broad figure, concerned eyes scanning your face, observing and searching for any clue; for the source of your distress. As if the fact that they were – you all were, even if they didn’t know yet – about to time travel wasn’t enough to give one palpitations and serious stress-induced headache.

His tender fingers tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear as if it would help the mess your hairstyle must have been. A small encouraging smile graced his lips despite his own mind no doubt weighted down by numerous worries.

He didn’t have to ask for you to start talking, the brilliant colour of his eyes sweet and inviting enough.

“What if something goes wrong?” you questioned in a hushed whisper, not having to pretend to have such haunting thought. “What if… I don’t even want to think about what could it be. You’re going to need someone capable to pull you out. I am… I am not that capable. Definitely not when it comes to science of time-travel.”

Despite Steve acting like a human shield, your concerns were acknowledged by everyone, their heads snapping your direction. Steve, feeling all the curious eyes, cleared his throat and gently took your arm, leading you away from the prying ears.

“….excuse us for a second,” he hummed absently, waiting until he was out of earshot to speak with you again. “Doll… what- what is this really about?”

“What do you mean-“ you bluffed lamely in an instant, but the look Steve gave you shut you up.

“I know you, sweetheart. You can’t lie to me.”

If you weren’t dreading what you were about to do, you might throw a ‘watch me’ back at him. Instead, you aimed for an irritated tone – one that would be justified in case he would truly be questioning the claim you were about to point out.

“So you think I’m not afraid for you?”

A frown crossed over his face, his palm on your bicep tightening before he eased his hold to brush his thumb over the very same spot. “No! That’s not- I just know there’s something more. What is it?”

Gulping and averting his gaze, because the intense burn of genuine concern was unbearable, your mind raced with the effort to find the right words.

Your stomach was tied in tight knots, turning at the idea of playing Steve, more so for such nefarious purpose. But how else you could have convinced him that it couldn’t in fact be him and Natasha going to Vormir to retrieve the soul stone?

“I… I want to help. I need to help, Steve. You’re— you're so strong, always the hero and I’m not even close, I-“

“-need to prove my worth?” he finished easily, a knowing look in his eyes, and fuck him, how did he know—

He might not understand fully, he had no way of knowing what Crowley told you to do, but still, Steve was still able to recognize what fuelled your determination, what were your motives.

You opened your mouth uselessly, a shaky exhale brushing Steve’s face as he lowered his head to you, his eyes wide and genuinely troubled. God, you couldn’t bare the intensity of his gaze.

“Christ, doll. Where’s this coming from? Don’t be rid-“ From the corner of your eye, you saw him lick his lips as he swiftly cut himself off before calling you ridiculous. His large warm palms framed your face, forcing you to lock your gaze with his, passionate words accented by the burning fire of his irises. “You don’t need to prove anything to anyone. Not to them, certainly not to me. You are my everything and you are the most amazing person I have ever met-“

You closed your eyes, a soft smile tugging at your lips despite your better judgement. You never doubted Steve’s feelings, yet he was always quick to reassure you, having the patience of a saint whenever he noticed a hint of insecurity.

“I know. I swear I know that, I know how you feel, but- let me do this. What if… what if you don’t come back? What if you don’t come back and I’d be just sitting here, knowing I could have done something, but I didn’t. You’re too familiar with that feeling, Steve. Please. Let me come with you,” you pleaded in a hushed voice, hating you reminded him of losing you, but knowing it might be effective. “You know you can protect me when it comes to it.”

Brows drawn together, Steve observed you, baffled and yet understanding at the same time, torn between the instinct to have you protected at the compound and the responsibility he felt towards this mission. This was the fight of your lives; deep down, he must have known he couldn’t afford to jeopardize that even if it came to you. Which, naturally, didn’t mean he had to like it.

A clearing of one’s throat that sounded a bit like a clap of thunder interrupted your staring contest and you both glanced towards Bruce’s huge green form in the doorway, sheepish expression comical on his massive face.

“…sorry to interrupt, but… we kinda all think she has a point so-“

Steve’s sucked in air between his teeth, letting his hands drop from you face, only for one of them to run through his hair, the other balling in a fist.

You shrugged, the battle of emotions – victory and defeat at the same time, because God, why – no doubt visible on your face as Steve turned his attention solely to you once more.

“I’ll give you guys another sec…” Bruce hummed, backing out of the door, leaving you to deal with clearly irritated and reluctant Steve.

Thanks, buddy.

Wordlessly, Steve’s fingers slipped beneath your jaw, pulling you in for one of the strangest kisses of your life. H poured all his emotions into one simple gesture, hungry and intense, intimate wet sound of a dirty encounter of mouths echoing in the otherwise silent room. You allowed yourself to get lost in the sensation of Steve’s lips on yours, in his arm grabbing you and pressing flush against his hard chest; it was all too harsh for anyone to believe it was not a display of affection of a half-desperate man.

Breathless and with vertigo nearly overcoming you, you rested your forehead against Steve’s, mirroring his action once you parted. His eyes were closed shut, as if too heavy to kept open, but you could see that something in his expression shifted; you and Bruce won.

Peripherally, you noticed Crowley’s faint figure, the shortest of appearances as he nodded in approval and goodbye. You suspected he did something so Steve gave in; you didn’t care what and how, hoping it didn’t harm your soulmate.

Tears stung in your eyes when you realized what was to come and you forced them to be kept at bay, shutting your eyes close again.

“Fine, have it your way,” Steve rasped, his voice clearly irked, yet resigned. “But if you get one scratch on you, doll, just one, I’ll hold you responsible.”

No, you won’t.

You charmed a guilty smile, a lame tiny thing, and he inhaled sharply, only for huffing the air out.

“How could I, having my chivalrous man by my side?”

It earned you a kiss on your forehead, Steve’s fingers interlacing with yours when you made your way back to the other room where everyone waited.

Oh, how much it now hurt, the amount of faith Steve could put into you, charmed by your teary smile, that little thing puling on his heartstrings.

Oh, just how much it would hurt…

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Part 6

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

This chapter might seem a bit strange, but hopefully it fits the atmosphere of Infinity War and Endgame…

Thanks for being here. I love you for your encouragement :-*

P.S. Here, have the last part of a SPN guide - visuals and references for Amara (God’s sister who gave back ‘reader’s’ memories) and Crowley (from this chapter).

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noeditspace · 3 years

Note

Caught off-guard kiss for Rhea and Felix!

Sorry this took so long! I decided to go with a scene that I had for my ghost hunters au since idk if I’ll ever actually write the full story. I hope you enjoy :) Also it’s a bit long so all of it’s under the line.

Rhea made her way quietly around the building’s perimeter with Felix. They were trying to get an idea of the location Phineas had picked for them but Rhea was already on edge. The place in question was one of the most notorious asylums from the late 1800s. The professor had asked them to search for some supernatural experiences here on their usual mission to find proof of the supernatural.

A loud crack suddenly echoed around them, causing Rhea to nearly jump out of her skin. Fearing the worst, Rhea slowly turned around and aimed her flashlight at where the sound had come from.

Her light showed Felix frozen with his foot held slightly above the ground.

“Was that you,” she hissed, her body still on edge.

Felix stood there for a moment longer before seeming to collect himself as he ignored Rhea’s glare.

“See rookie, this is what you gotta look out for,” he said wagging his finger at her before walking past her.

“Gotta look out for...,” Rhea echoed in annoyance at his dismissal of what had happened.. She took some deep breaths to calm her nerves and to stop herself from smacking Felix over his head as they continued to walk.

“Yup, you always have to be prepared, on the lookout for anything dangerous or otherworldly.”

Rhea rolled her eyes. Ever since she had started working with this Ghost Hunters group, Rhea’s life had gone crazy. The people she now worked with were interesting to say the least, beyond their own various beliefs of the supernatural. She didn’t mind them and didn’t mind Felix’s need to call her rookie. It was a bit endearing so she let him do it.

There was slight static from the ear piece Rhea was wearing before Ellie’s voice could be heard coming through it.

“Everything alright over there?”

“Yeah,” Rhea responded, “We’re about to turn the corner to go along the back of the building.”

“Alright. Stay safe you two.”

Felix responded to that. “We’re fine Ellie. Rhea’s in great hands.”

Silence answered him and Rhea let herself imagine the look Ellie was making on the other end. She couldn’t stifle her chuckle as Felix turned to wink at her.

“Holler if anything goes wrong.”

“We will,” Rhea said with a smile.

They continued for a few more minutes as the sounds of the night seemed to go silent. They had just rounded the corner when footsteps sounded behind the two of them.

“Shh,” Felix motioned for Rhea to move close to the edge of the wall. A flashlight could be seen moving back and forth as someone moved closer to where they were.

“Shit, it must be security.” Rhea turned to look at Felix. “What do we do?”

Felix looked around quickly to see if there was a place to hide but all that was around them was the wall and then an open field that was lined by a first some good feet away.

“We could run,” he suggested with a shrug. But they both knew they wouldn't make it in time without being seen by the guard.

Precious seconds passed as they stood there unsure of what to do. The light was growing brighter and the footsteps were growing louder when an idea popped into her head. With no time to waste, Rhea gave Felix a brief “sorry” before grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him against her to kiss him.

They stumbled back against the wall with Felix automatically throwing a hand behind her head and the other hand against the wall to steady them. She could feel his surprise as he stood there frozen against her lips. Rhea felt awful for doing this but the last thing they needed was to get caught for the true reason they were there.

Opening her eyes slightly, Rhea could see that the guard was just about to round the corner when she was caught by surprise that Felix had started kissing her back. The kiss was gentle but firm against her lips as if he was both sure of what they were doing and hesitant of how far they could go. Rhea found herself giving into his kiss as her hands moved from his chest to wrap around his neck pulling him closer to her. Time freeze around them as they got lost in each other's embrace.

A cough broke the moment and they reluctantly pulled away from each other. Rhea still felt the faint echo of Felix’s lips against hers as she turned to face the blinding light.

“Alright you kids, this is no place for something like that,” the guard spoke to them in a bored tone.

“Sorry, sir,” Rhea spoke up after Felix didn’t say anything. “Got lost in the moment was all.” She offered him a sheepish smile and grabbed Felix’s hand in hopes to sell their story.

“Odd place to get lost in the moment,” the guard sounded skeptical but seemed to buy it as he motioned with his light back to where he had come from. “Go on get outta here. Don’t come back again.”

“Yes, of course. Sorry again.” She gave the guard another smile as she pulled Felix back down the path they had come. He continued to remain silent causing Rhea to worry that he would be angry by what she had done.

Once they had finally gotten far enough away from the guard, Rhea stopped and dropped Felix’s hand as she turned to face him.

“Hey, I’m so sorry about that.” Opening her eyes to finally look at him, Rhea was surprised to see that Felix’s face was unreadable. He stood there staring at her but did not betray any emotions or what he might be thinking. She began to squirm under his silent gaze but she stood her ground. The least she could do was face his anger at forcing a kiss on him, even if it was meant to save them.

But as he continued to stare at her, Rhea began to ramble to try and break the silence. “I swear I would never do anything like that under any other circumstance. I was just really scared about what would happen and didn’t want us to get arrested….”

She trailed off as Felix finally broke out into a big smile. “Nah Rook, you acted in the moment. Quick thinking like that is what can save us in the heat of the moment when we are faced to face with the unknown.”

Slightly amused at the direction the conversation was going but still slightly concerned, Rhea asked, “Are you sure it's ok? That we are ok.”

This got a reaction out of him. He ran his fingers through his hair as he looked around the area for who knows what. “Yeah.. yes. Besides,” his gaze set Rhea’s heart racing, “it was a nice kiss.”

Rhea didn’t know what to say and scrambled to figure out a response. Static suddenly sounded in her ear and Rhea thanked no one in particular for the distraction.

“You two ok over there,” Ellies concerned voice sounded through the earbud.

“We’re fine,” Felix answered. “A quick run in with a guard but Rhea was quick on her feet to save us.” Felix gave her a wink at that.

“Ok well Max and Nyoka have already returned so head on back to the van. It’s time to go.”

“We’ll be there soon,” Rhea stammered as she looked away from Felix.

They made their way back to the van as Felix started to lecture her about the importance of being able to think fast in the moment. She only half listened as she wondered what he really thought about their kiss. He had seemed flustered at first but had taken it in stride. Exactly as he had hoped.

A small part of her wondered though, if he meant it when he kissed her back.

#the outer worlds #tow #ghost hunters au #rhea hawthorne #felix millstone

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sammystep · 3 years

Text

No One Lives Forever- CH7

(AO3 link)

Stardust Crusader Wolf Pack AU

[From the beginning- CH1]

It took Polnareff some time to cool off from the implications that the mysterious and frankly frightening man he met all those years ago was now behind some other shady business involving wolves, but by the time he reached the vehicles abandoned on the side of the road he was able to focus on the task at hand. Both were unlocked so it was easy to take a look inside the white van first. Opening the back door revealed the cargo area had been partitioned with metal cage sections like those in the backs of police cruisers.

Other gear was scattered around the back near the rear doors for easy access. Some more guns and ammo boxes and an overturned bin of the collar devices that they found on the bodies. Nothing really caught his eye but he took pictures on his phone for future reference. The keys were still in the ignition so he started up the vehicle and moved it off the main road to not draw unwanted attention.

It felt rude to go sniffing through your car, so after a brief look through the windows to confirm the hunters left no surprises, he opened the door and put it in neutral. With a few strong shoves he was able to rescue it from the shallow ditch it had been driven into. Your keys were also still in the ignition and luckily it started, but a few lights on the dash lit up- probably more internal damage than he first assumed from the crash. Driving slow and steady he was able to get it back to the cabin.

The slamming of the car door must have alerted the rest of the pack to his return, he saw Avdol peek through the window as he made his way to the door. Inside he was glad to see you moving about mostly unaided on your own, your wounds must be healing well thanks to Avdol’s expert care. Producing your car keys, he hands them over, “I was able to drive it back, but I don’t think it’s up for any longer distances without repairs. I thought you would want your things back though.”

You sigh as you realize you really are stuck with this pack, not that you mind them but the sudden loss of freedom is disheartening. You thank him as you take back your keys.

“Pol, did you find anything else? Any link to who sent them?” Jotaro asks as everyone stares intently at him, the rest of the pack must have already been brought up to speed on the situation.

“Just more of the same gear. I moved their van off the road so no nosey troopers get involved, at least not right now. Took some pictures of the inside in case you guys see anything I missed.” Polnareff hands over his phone to Jotaro who scrolls through the images before handing it to Avdol. Walking over to the table where the hunters’ things are still laid out Polnareff absently fiddles with the extra ammo before picking one up to examine more closely. “Hmm, that’s odd. There are no makers marks on this?”

“What do you mean?” Joseph scratches his beard as he holds one up as well.

“It’s weird that there’s no markings whatsoever. Silver bullets are always homemade but the quality of these, they look mass produced but have no manufacture marks.” Polnareff’s face is grim as he makes the connection.

“What does that mean? Is that unusual?” You ask as you try to understand the significance.

Jotaro sighs as Polnareff hands him the piece he was holding. “It means this group of hunters is experienced enough not to leave evidence linking to them. And their operation is probably much more complex and much bigger than the group we encountered here. The tech, the mass manufacture of silver ammo…”

“And the van was modified for prisoners.” Polnareff shakes his head and sighs.

“Polnareff, you said before you recognized the smell of one of the hunters.” Jotaro rolls his eyes as Joseph lets out a fake cough that sounds a lot like ‘DIO’. “Ignoring who it may or may not be for now, how do you know that scent?”

“I don’t know how else to describe it other than it smells like magic. It’s like nothing else I’ve ever smelled. There was only one person I’ve ever encountered that smelled like that.” Polnareff sits heavily in the nearest chair as the pack reconvenes at the table. “It was about five years ago now, before I met you Mr. Joestar. I was in New York City for the first time, trying to follow a lead on a case but having no luck. I heard rumors of a man who knew what had really happened to… in the case.” Polnareff gets a little choked up but controls himself and continues. “I was able to set up a meeting, but when I went to the spot, everything kind of… shifted? It felt like I was in a dream: it was hard to move, like weights on my feet. Everything looked just slightly wrong too, hazy like in a fog. I remember there was some sort of party going on, a lot of people everywhere like a medieval banquet or something. That’s where I met him. He introduced himself as Dio and I could tell he wasn’t human but couldn’t place what he actually was. He claimed he had the information I needed, but it would come at a price.”

“What do you mean by ‘investigation?” you tilt your head in confusion as you try to analyze his story so far.

“Ah, you wouldn’t know yet chérie but I’m one of the best private investigators in New York, probably the whole east coast!” Polnareff brags, jabbing his chest with his thumb.

“Focus Pol! What was his ‘price’?” Joseph groans out, exasperated with the younger man’s need to show off. “And why did you even need supernatural help? Not to inflate your ego any more than it is, but you are a good investigator.”

Polnareff looks down to the table, all sense of cheerfulness gone from his face. “The case had gone cold. It’s actually the reason I became a PI in the first place. My family, the whole town… they were murdered!” He slams his fists on the table as he shouts. “And not by just some maniac in the night! It was something inhuman! That’s the reason why I needed his help or whatever info he had on who did such a terrible act.”

You are frozen to your chair in shock with this new information. It seems to have taken the younger members of the pack by surprise too, Joseph and Avdol only nodding along in understanding. “The whole town murdered? You don’t mean…The one north of Quebec City, that was your home?” you say quietly.

Polnareff’s eyes shoot to yours, “Oui! Do you know of it?”

You swallow nervously as all the attention turns on you, “I heard of it, that was about seven or eight years ago right?” Polnareff nods and you continue, “That was about time I left my parent’s territory to try and find or start my own pack. They made me promise to not go that far north to Quebec, they were afraid whatever did that would get me too. They say the whole town was… torn apart.”

Polnareff hangs his head and you can see tears gather in his blue eyes. “Yes. It’s been years now but the pain… I wasn’t there when it happened, I was off in Quebec City partying while my family… When I got back, I was the one who found them. It wasn’t just a burglary gone bad or even ‘normal’ murder. Whatever killed them had used silver to do it. All of them, the whole town,” he chokes on his words trying to get the next ones out, “some of the bodies were eaten. Not by animals, by something almost human. I didn’t rest for days afterward. I swore I would hunt down the thing, the demon that did this to them. Unfortunately, I was not as good a tracker then as I am now, and the trail grew cold fast. So, I became a PI to try and keep looking and hone my skills.”

“That Dio guy, did he help at all? You said his help came at a price.” Jotaro directs the conversation back to the mysterious encounter.

“His price was too steep. He wanted information about other supernatural beings, to keep tabs and report to him directly.”

“Do you think he really did have the information though?” Kakyoin questions as he steeples his fingers together in front of him while he considers the information of Polnareff’s story.

Polnareff shakes his head, “It’s impossible to know now. He was so confident, about everything. I think I surprised him when I refused though. For a moment, it was like I saw his true face through the fog, he was suddenly terrifying and not at all charming. But I figured if he knew something, with all the people he had surrounded himself with someone else was bound to know as well. Whatever secret knowledge he had, it wouldn’t be secret for long. And why pay such a price for something that I could get for free later?”

“Did you ever find out his secret?” Avdol leans in as he asks, enraptured by Polnareff’s tale.

“Non, I don’t even remember leaving the place he brought me to. The next thing I remember after turning down his offer is, I suddenly found myself sitting in my car ready to head back to my motel.” He clasps his hands together and you can see his knuckles turn white from the tension. “I tried to find him again to, I don’t know… stop him? His intentions for the info on other creatures… It couldn’t have been good. And the slip of his façade I saw. The man, that creature is bad news. But he might have well been a ghost. I haven’t seen hide nor hair of him since.”

Polnareff turns to you, “A few years later I got hired by Mr. Joestar to keep an eye on a shady landlord working for him, and I guess the rest is history.” He shakes his head, “Who would have thought joining your pack would lead back to Dio again. Non- this is fate.”

Avdol gives Polnareff a pat on the shoulder before turning to Joseph. “Mr. Joestar, I think you should tell us what you know about Dio, or at least the person you know as Dio. I think it’s time the younger ones hear this.” Avdol says as he leans back in his chair and crosses his arms.

Joseph nods and runs his hand through his hair before he begins, “Right. Ahh, well,” he pauses to gather his thoughts for a second, “I know this is going to sound crazy but I guess there is no way around it. When I was young, I lived with my granny Erina, my parents were either dead or missing and her husband Jonathan had been dead since before my father was even born. Now’s not the time to get into the details of that but Granny used to tell me all kinds of stories from when Jonathan was alive. And most importantly- the majority of them involved an evil man named DIO! My grandfather’s adopted brother!” Joseph doesn’t control his volume in his excitement and ends up shouting his last sentence.

“Being an adopted son in a werewolf pack was strange enough, but Granny could tell there was something ‘other’ about Dio as well. Then one night, his schemes and plans finally came to fruition! There was a massive fight at the house, Granny said Jonathan would not speak of it except that his father George had died saving him from Dio’s magic and in the fight the manor was set on fire and burned down. Jonathan made it his life’s mission to find and destroy Dio, not for revenge but for the safety of England and the world!” Joseph turns his attention to look directly at Jotaro, “Dio was a changeling child. His actions confirmed it that night. He was one of the last remaining Fae on earth. And apparently not of the good and benevolent kind. So, you see why it could be possible that this man may be the same one my grandpa tried to destroy more than a hundred years ago.”

“That… that’s impossible! The Fae, they all disappeared long before that to Avalon.” Kakyoin is wide eyed as he tries to process the information. “I know some humans still believe in them, but…”

“I know! I know! I thought they were just stories from my granny too!” Joseph exclaims and puts his hand to his eyes, “But one time… I don’t think I was supposed to see it, but I found an old photo album. There was a family photo of my grandfather, his father, and Dio.” He turns to Polnareff, “Pol, the man you met. Did he have blond hair, angry eyes and three moles on his left ear?”

It’s Polnareff’s turn to go pale as he slowly nods.

Jotaro growls as he tilts his hat to hide his eyes before snapping his head up to face the pack. “As impossible as this all sounds, it doesn’t change the fact that someone is hunting down wolves. I don’t give a shit if it is Dio or not, or an extinct Fae or not. We are going to put an end to this.” He looks around the table for a second and you can tell his eyes linger on yours longer than the others. “If anyone has an objection to this say it now. There will be no opportunity later.”

Joseph slams his hand to the table palm down, “I’m in! lets show this bastard who he’s messing with!”

Joseph’s enthusiasm is contagious and you and Polnareff slam your hands to the table as well, surprising the group with the fire they can see burning in your eyes. “Hell yeah! They think they can just take me? No way! I’m going to help tear this guy to pieces! I’m with you all the way!” You say as you look directly at Jotaro. You’re not sure but you think that’s a look of pride on his face as you make your declaration.

Avdol and Kakyoin keep their cool but you can see the determination in their eyes as they nod and place their hands on the table as well. Joseph is grinning like a feral maniac and you suddenly believe his stories about saving the world with how excited he looks to do it all over again. “Then it’s settled! I’ll call Caesar and let him know to gather the Zeppeli pack too.” Joseph pauses as he stands and looks at you, “Oh, and (Y/N)?” you tilt your head at him to continue. “Welcome to the Joestar pack.”

Author’s Note:

Sorry for the slow update! Guess who’s not good at regulating her personal time? This gal! I had to change up the process of how I’m writing this cause just trying to type on my computer had too many distractions and next thing I know I’ve been playing Stardew Valley for 3 hours.

Anyway, I have a favor to ask- I need a name for one of the dead bad guys. So leave a comment with a first name for the guy from Jersey, can be a bad ex, terrible boss, friend you want to embarrass by getting their name in a fanfic (first names only please- no doxing!)

#jotaro x y/n #jotaro x reader #jotaro kujo #joseph joestar #jjba polnareff #noriaki kakyoin #muhammad avdol #jojo part 3 fiction #stardust crusaders #jjba fanfic #werewolf #family pack #pack dynamics #fanfic #jjba au

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incarnateirony · 4 years

Text

DM questions, a new round.

"i am very curious for the vids on amara right now, because I feel like I did not understand a lot of the underlying text from her plotline."

My Amara heavy vids are Reflection (S14 orig)/Destiny's Reflection(S15 update), End of the Line, and Xanthosis. However they're more how she interplays to the storyline for the mains rather than a breakdown of the mythological significance at large. I'd say check my talk on Absence. Somewhere I do have a cosmogeny post from like S13, where I break down the Qabbalah on this but I can’t seem to find it at the moment and would be a bit extra. Almost overcomplicate things right now since it went into the tree of life and pillars, even if that’s quite predictively mapping out our path right now episode by episode.

I will say: not all mentions of “absence” on my blog are specifically in regards to Amara, but rather, to a collective mindset. The fandom -- frankly, humans in general -- tend to think in dualities. A subtle point in the subtext of this all is that dualities are often more a matter of being and unbeing. Darkness isn’t a thing, it is an absence of light. Death isn’t a thing, it is an absence of life. Evil isn’t a thing, it is an absence of good. It wasn’t by magic that I pre-quoted Cas in well...Absence once I saw the episode title while dealing with Jack being soulless. (x) This is something to learn moving forward-- or uh unlearn. Be absent of former dichotomous coding. This is critical in other things like The Absence of Life which is going to be incredibly crucial to grasp coming up. (x)

Many authors talk about the Absence of Cas as a narrative tool, and while this is very valid, I find it’s almost too targeted. It’s a valid tool to start thinking about empty space: absence of Cas in AUs, the loss of Cas in the alternate future, and more--you’ll find me showing how Amara’s exit itself paralleled Cas and both handled Absence. But this is a very large scale idea that also impacts the sum of our cosmogeny really. You don’t think of it being “Cas” and “negaCas”, it’s just... absence. Something that isn’t there. Now expand that on these ideas.

I once etched this out on paint to try to streamline it when it comes to our Alpha and Omega (11.23), aka our Form and our Void (11.2).

"For the graphic, i just watched a few vids on alchemy and the 'souls' 'occultum' and 'eden' stand for 'soul' 'mind/spirit' and 'body' respectively right? But I am a bit confused about the end of the second paragraph, because from one of your posts I gathered that the souls are collected/destroyed/taken by amara and then "returned" to the empty. But in the graphic you seem to be implying the exact opposite? I think? Anyways it was very helpful to put all the different info into context thanx!”

They're pulled out into Absence, Absence is the lack of Being, Being is the created world. Beyond the created world there is the Empty. In the Empty there is only the Shadow.

And you're kinda close on the soul stuff. I'm at work so pardon if I'm going to be brief, I have a boss in my ear on a conference call but the long and short of it is... soul, mind/grace, body. But body is also the physical world. As above, so below. Everything, and I do mean everything, ties into this. Souls, heaven, how reality is structured -- if you haven’t yet, check my heaven meta as it tries to communicate this but also make sure to read through the rest here. (x)

The soul is the foundation of all things, the mind reflects the soul and identities grown of it from the creative collective, body/earth is the perception of the world and vessel in which we grow.

VISITA TERRAE RECTIFICANDO INVENIES OCCULTUM LAPIDEM

Visit the interior parts of the earth; by rectification thou shalt find the hidden stone.

Or, “loosely translated,” In order to be in the Occultum, the Occultum must be in you.

The alchemists often referred to this as the “Marriage of the Sun and Moon,” which symbolized the two opposing ways of knowing or experiencing the world. After this Marriage of the Mind, the initiate experiences an increase in intuitive insight and the birth of Intelligence of the Heart. This newly found faculty produces a sense of reality superior to either Thought (Mind/Grace), or Feeling (Soul), alone.

The soul lights and powers the mind, the mind perceives the body, the body is vessel of the world and gives meaning and form for the soul for the mind to receive, relive and understand, as opposed to the unformed and seeking Shadow in oblivion wondering if it even exists that just wants to sleep. This is also not so different from the world orbiting around the sun despite previous confusion, if sun = soul, but the moon reflects the sun’s life and is a key catalyst for making life achievable on earth in many ways. Wherein moon = mind. Hmmm what was it that led Cas right to the occultum before it passed in the same order as the last sphere this year?

"Yes! I believe I actually understood everything you just said perfectly fine! (Three hours ago this basically just would have been gibberish to me, for real!) but for real, tysm for explaining, you really have a way to get everything down short and precise, even if i have to read a few things double. Just one more question, you saying they are pulled out into absence, and then the circle gif: does this mean in the grand scheme of things that the circle is finished by the time "a soul goes back to the empty" (very loosely described). Or is the circle a bigger one where it began with "the empty" / "the ink man(was one of 'his' names I think)" waking up -> everything forming out of nothing. And will end at some point with everything returning to nothing. Just to start anew - and therefore cause another unrelated circle? Sorry I this makes absolutely no sence at all "Waking up" referencing the big bang of course - "everything returning to nothing" meaning the collapse of the universe - and the "start of another circle" meaning a second big bang"

There's actually two takes on this! Very good question! Ironically, most gnostic branches believe the ascent does return you to the formless shadow, and it's called a Nihilistic view. Basically you return to the source of the machine as the one. On the other hand, more hermetic structures are called Optimistic, in that the machine is self-created by us to learn and master ourselves through and achieve enlightenment by returning to a *reflection* of the core. In supernatural, this would be the Garden, where the unconscious shadow being built over in creation reaches down as the subconscious serpent and asks who you are-- man returning to the garden.

In fact, Jack’s role in this (including the Luciferian parts I’ll talk below) in being the one TO return to the garden corresponds with phanes and the orphic egg, the (remastered) being that CAUSES that big bounce. (x) Why yes, I AM going to just keep throwing season 14 posts at you because this structure is a few years building at this point.

The Shadow may be the source but a still raw and unformed one, it's the fish before it crawled out of the cosmic water if you will.

Whereas the question of Being or Unbeing, first sourced in ideas like Chuck and Amara, came as thought. Thought and Mind made the world in Being.

So Chuck Had A Dream, and built it, but off the back of a primordial Shadow soup that already existed before him.

So the Thing that wonders why, or even if it exists, does exist as a formative Prima Materia, first material, on which the mind itself was made, but in reaching into the created world also has a new form. There, the crossroads of man and divinity, the Garden, where Jack reclaimed his soul.

Chuck is the first Mind to create by Grace and the Word (Logos, notice the book between Dean and Castiel) and half of the first question. Abraxas: Abrahadabra: I speak, therefore I am.

Chuck would thus be (half of) the Shadow's mind in its first form, but lacks the actual essence that defines the Shadow, and the Soul. Some schools of gnostic thought believe that humans were originally created, their body forms, by the Demiurge (Chuck), but they had no souls. So the Shadow descended as a serpent, sometimes Lucifer sometimes not (I don't think SPN is doing that part--or more, as above, is using Jack, the orphic child, as Phanes), to teach them the difference between good and evil, but that forbidden fruit wasn't an apple or whatever, it was giving them a soul, because the soul is the one true good and foundation of it all.

There is no evil, there is only the absence of good.

But the acquisition of that made them more than Chuck's dream, but able to have their own.

Hope, art, dreams. Those are human things.

Yes, they are.

The soul breeds the mind, the mind perceives the body, the body shapes the experience OF the soul as perceived by the mind, and these things make our heavenly thrones, thought boxes if you will

Supernatural is actually asking the audience to ponder the meaning of life.

What about all of this is real? Is it our circumstances?

No. The where isn't significant as much as what we do with it.

What about all of our Lives is real?

People, families. We are.

This is real.

Why do we exist? What is the meaning of it all?

The meaning is what we make between each other.

Who are we when we are first born? Are we as an infant who we become? Would I be a completely different person if I lived a different chain of circumstances and knew completely different people? How many lives must I live to find my way?

Chuck wants them to believe that the Gold they have made in this world and their interpersonal relationships cannot stay. Perhaps in his world that may be true. But man and his soul and his mind is a mortal beyond the body of this world

If they break Heaven from the chains he put around it then he has no power over man. It's the same reason he sealed Amara away. He knew they were equals and he couldn't stand it.

Man has the same right to the throne that Chuck has. Only his propaganda machine and keeping people in the ecosystem of his boxes is what gives him Authority. But as Fortuna says, don't play his game. Make him play yours.

As Dean said when he threw Michael in the Box.

My mind, my rules.

In that box, Dean was God. Everyone else was just All The Same. Michael couldn't snap his fingers and nuke them all, he didn't have Chuck's given right of being a wavelength of intent across the realm.

"In this place, I'm God!" cried the mayor in Peace of Mind.

Each and every heaven box is a potential world made by man, a timeless place shuffling their greatest memories and ideas, but left empty by the lack of other souls in it. The souls remain the one true thing and he who has the most souls is god.

Man is god, end of story, Chuck's just... an architect.

And every human can be one.

Perhaps my greatest frustration in this fandom is trying to slam out post after post explaining how wall to wall this incredibly deep philosophy is, to try to point out its resounding and powerful message to an entire audience, only to be met by resistance over silly fan warring about wanting or not wanting a ship like. Honestly, I don’t care if someone doesn’t like ~Destiel~ like. Get over it. You can see it as a long series (15.09, 15.13, etc) of platonic bro marriages of the platonic bro mind for their cosmic taxes to get a discount on the loan for their galactic fucking refrigerator at this point, but you are fundamentally doing yourself an entire assed disservice on the very moral bone structure of this show to not be willing to absorb this, much less prepare for how this will usher out our ending.

I don’t care if you ship Dean with Anna or Lisa or some other ancient shit, I don’t CARE if you prefer some Cas ship from 1492, tuck all that away. Please, for the love of everything holy, try to understand these lessons that the writing crew are even using to try to help counsel everyone through the ending of a show that took up much of our lives and, beyond that, learn how to carry these lessons into the real world in a way that just might maybe make you a better person who is able to have a better experience in their life.

#supernatural #spn #meta #my meta #pagan life #amaah #amara #death #darkness #absence #dichotomy #souls #cosmogenesis #vitriol #occultum

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bangtan-dreamland · 4 years

Text

in another life, you and i

Pairing: pjm x male!reader ; one-sided!kth x male!reader

Word Count: 16193

Warnings: major character death, brief descriptions of violence, mention of a massacre, terminal illness

Rating: PG15

Genre: angst, fluff (?), supernatural!au, demon!au, reincarnation!au

Summary: you are, surely, the strangest human Jimin has ever met, and he’s had two hundred years to mingle with your kind. still, a deal is a deal, and your soul is interesting, so why not?

he soon realizes there’s much, much more to the story than he knows.

A/N: written as a belated birthday fic for @sombreboy, whose fics feed my never ending thirst!! this is pretty wordy and kind of wonky, but I had a lot of fun writing this, the ending stressed me out though, I couldn’t help making it bittersweet

a big thank to you @tigertaehyunq who helped encourage and support me writing this!! I could ramble about her help but it’d take a lot of space, so I’ll just say I couldn’t have finished this without her. also, I rushed making the banner and will probably replace it later. edited a little now!!

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

The first time Jimin’s summoned in decades, it’s to a human who he cannot understand at all.

And as a demon, he’s met plenty of human beings over the course of two hundred years. He’s met humans who worshipped him, humans who feared him, humans who hated him… he’s granted all kinds of wishes as well, has made more deals than most demons, even those older than him. He has a reputation, one that he’s earned.

He doesn’t think that you’ll be different from any human that he’s met before, and that like usual, this would be a quick transaction. Boring. Repetitive. But if he doesn’t meet you, then there’s nothing else to do- even if you’re only a quick distraction, he welcomes it.

Yet, when he’s summoned by you, you manage to blow all his expectations out of the water.

Oh, as the fire that rises to the ceiling brings him over, his feet making contact with the rough floor, the markings on the ground, the offerings- there is not one bit that surprises him. Instead, he readies himself for your shock.

Humans are always ever so vocal, after all, even those who seem to be, at first glance, calm and composed. It’s a waste of energy and effort to introduce himself when they’re too busy panicking over the fact that they’ve ‘actually summoned a real demon!’. Therefore, he waits for you to get your screaming done and over with.

But as the flames make way for your visage, the face with which you greet him is not one that he’s familiar with.

Yes- In the split second that the flames die down to a simmer before disappearing, he can see the vivid surprise in your face, then replaced by fear and- grief?

However, as soon as they come do they pass, leaving him wondering why and if he only imagined it. You approach him with a mild look on your face that gives away nothing as to what you really feel inside, your tone even. Still, your slightly heavy breathing gives you away. “... You’re not the demon I aimed to summon.”

Jimin chuckles. “No, I am not. However, do not fret. I am much more powerful than whatever demon you originally intended for, I assure you.”

“... Or perhaps, you are not worried, so much as you are afraid right now?” As he takes a step forward, he has to inwardly commend your courage- even at the distance of a mere foot between the two of you, still you do not cower away from him. Rather, it seems you even have the nerve to take a step closer, as you tilt down to look at him. He feels a small surge of excitement in him- maybe this one won’t prove to be boring at all. Jimin continues his words. “I wouldn’t be surprised. Humans are ever always so afraid, after all. Especially of the supernatural.”

And then it takes him by surprise- the way that your lips shift oh so suddenly into a smile. It turns your face from a still lake in winter to the blooming fields of spring, and a stray thought in his head arises- for a human, you’re quite attractive yourself. “I’m not afraid of you at all,” you easily state. “I don’t mind if you’re not the one I was originally calling for. You’re much better than him, after all.”

At this close a distance, he can see in clear detail the way your eyes are clearly free of any fear, as you say.

How interesting.

“Wonderful,” he purrs, smiling widely, taking delight in the way you freeze for a moment, evidently charmed by him, especially when you’re so close to each other. “For humans like you, I do not mind making a deal.”

It would be best to take a step backward, the current distance between the two of you unsuitable for a serious conversation. Still, he’s never been the one to back down first. With that in mind, he simply continues on the conversation. “Now, human, for what reason have you called for me?”

You nod your head, a small smirk on your lips. “This is my last cycle,” you suddenly declare, and, what-

Before Jimin can process the words you’ve just spoken, you admitting to information that you should have no way of knowing, you are the first one to take a step back. As you do, you make a gesture to the center of your chest, and-

“As you can see.”

Jimin makes a sound of surprise in the back of his throat as his attention is demanded by your soul. As he examines it, the first thought in his mind is that- impossible.

It’s an enigma, like you. Whole, unbroken. Your soul can almost be called pure, as there’s not a single crack to be found anywhere, the orb smooth. Yet mystifyingly enough, at the same time there is a black shroud of darkness that surrounds it, the type that only souls broken beyond the point of salvation can emit. The pristine state of your soul would qualify you a place in heaven- yet at the same time, the aura of death and hatred that surrounds your soul would open a position for you as one of hell’s most powerful demons. He can’t help wondering just what exactly were you like, and if the state of your soul is the reason why you can remember your past lives.

It’s how the game of heaven and hell works, after all. Humans are given ten lifetimes, ten journeys in the mortal world, their souls starting out as pure orbs filled with the power of uncertainty and potential. And then they are born as humans- starting out with truly blank roots, no outside influence offering them good or bad luck.

Starting from the first lifetime, all decisions they make are important as it determines their next lives. The more giving and loving they are in their previous life, the more luxurious and pleasant their next lives come to be, as they are blessed with luck by the heavens. Even those that seem to start from a tragedy, it wouldn’t be too hard to survive and thrive. People would adore them, they would find themselves more attuned with the world, and ultimately whatever field they endeavored in, they would find themselves succeeding.

In turn, the more wretched and hateful a person is in his previous life, the more the heaven casts him out with luck against him. They may be born in a wealthy family- but if you wait longer, then you will find that their only choice is to fall deeper into disgrace with evil, fight fire with fire so to say- or to suffer the fall and endure pain to gain heaven’s blessings again.

Both would face harder and harder trials in each passing cycle of life- yet, for those with heaven on their side, passing such trials would not be that hard a task, and they would gain even greater benefits if they are sincere. Yet to those who are hated by the heavens, they may only turn to more evil to mitigate the luck that deems them betrayed, failed, loathed by even those that they may trust with their life.

With each passing life, a human’s soul either cracks or repairs. To those who persevere, who manage to mend their ways, who somehow are in heaven’s good grace- their souls are instantly taken to heaven the moment their tenth and final cycle ends. To those whose souls are broken and filled with hatred, well. They are disposed of, turned into demons.

Most of the time though, souls at the end of their cycles are broken down and remade into new ones. He’s never heard of any exception to the rules of the game they’re all bound by.

And as for him? Jimin is one of the few demons who became one even before his ten cycles were completed. It’s what gives him his reputation, his power.

Yes. As a demon, he’s quite familiar with the system. He’s familiar with all the types of humans in different stages, different cycles of their lives. It’s easy for him to realize, with a glance, the state of their soul. Not even their reactions faze him anymore. After all- you can only listen to one too many screams and whimpers, before they lose the thrill, before they become merely annoying. With a glance, he can tell if they are headed to the world above or the one below- yet with yours, it seems as though you belong in both.

It’s a contradiction- you’re a contradiction.

“What kind of lives did you lead before this?” He mutters, a hint of surprise evident from his voice. “I’ve never quite seen a soul like yours before. Never have I met a human who knew about the cycles before, too.”

In response, though, you only laugh quietly, dodging his question. “I’ve lived the best lives, that’s all.”

Jimin’s lips curl up into a bemused smile. “Then I suppose you really indulged yourself in the past?”

“And now the heavens punish me for it,” you agree with a smile. “But I don’t want my last life to end like this.”

With that, you suddenly gesture to the room around the two of you, bringing Jimin’s attention to your state of living.

Jimin frowns as he notices the run down walls, the naked floor, the cracked windows. That’s not even mentioning the bare feel of the room, without much furniture or personal items in any way.

“As you can see,” you explain. “I’m currently down on my last legs.”

Giving him a nonchalant shrug, you continue. “Estranged family, no friends, no money, not much possessions left… a birth defect that will deare me dead soon enough… with the state of my soul, it seems that there is no changing it in this lifetime either.”

At your last sentence, you fall quiet, but it’s not quite the quiet of despair, but rather- calm acceptance. It intrigues him. With each second that passes by in your presence, Jimin finds himself sensing layers underneath layers in your personality, little things that make you stand out from other humans he’s met before.

He hums. “Well, YN, I hope you realize it isn’t possible for me to give you the perfect life without a proper price,” he teases you with a lazy smirk, wondering if you’ll notice his lie. “Seventy five years of a human’s life, one that’s evidently been marked against by heaven too, it doesn’t seem like one that offers me much power. At most, I could give you a year.”

And yet you only shrug a little. “I figured that might be so,” you admit. “I… I think I just want a better life, in any way I can get it.”

He lets out a chuckle at your words. “If a better life is what you want, that you want to repent, I believe you’ve summoned the wrong entity,” he muses. “After all, with a soul like yours, even an angel could be persuaded into helping you.”

You scoff. “If I wanted to repent, which I don’t, I never would have summoned you.”

“I just... I just want to make the last years of my life worth living,” you clarify, voice becoming wistful. “Rather than live a lifetime like this… I’d much rather use the rest of what I have for a moment of happiness.”

“I won’t ask much from you. I don’t want to stand out too much anyway, humans can be just as troublesome as devils and angels.” You huff wryly at that, fidgeting with your hands. “I just need you to-” for the first time, you falter, a noticeable blush coloring your cheeks, but you go forth anyway, “-stay by my side.”

“At all times. I mean- to ensure I am happy and safe at all times, for at least a year, keep my disease at bay,” you add, at a point almost stammering. Still.

Jimin blinks. Looks at you. Twice. Waits for you to continue- to rescind your words, to say something. Yet you continue to stay silent, eyes not quite meeting him but peeking at him anyway, and he-

Jimin erupts into laughter, loud and long, practically falling over himself at that. “You want me to- stay with you, protect you, heal you and oversee that you are always happy, that’s your wish, human?”

You huff, making a snippy comment, "I don't believe you can heal, which is why I'm only asking you to keep the pain away," but you nod your head without a hesitation.

Jimin grins. “You really are daring, aren’t you? Aren’t you afraid to bring heaven’s wrath down on you? Asking a demon for protection and healing! For happiness- and I doubt what you’re asking is the one that you can gain from materials or other humans.”

You scoff. “I’m not afraid of heaven,” you deadpan, brows furrowing as the solemnity of your voice, coupled with the tight look on your face makes him smirk. Daring, indeed. “And- do you really believe an angel would grant this wish?”

His lips curl into a smirk. The answer to that is something that you obviously know as well. No, an angel would never.

Seemingly satisfied with his silence, taking it for compliance, you take a step back towards him.

At this close a distance, for the first time of the night, he fully takes you in. And- truly, although he doesn’t know what standard of beauty humans have at the present, even with the faint, bluish hue to the tips of your body that he now notices, Jimin thinks you’d fit any and all requirements to be considered being able to bewitch one’s soul at a glance. Not him, though, as a demon.

“So,” you murmur, a slight smile visible on your face. “Do we have a deal? Seventy five years of life, in exchange for a year of living however I want.”

“Deal,” he purrs, tilting your head down to seal your transaction. As his plush lips glide over your own, he whispers, light and teasing. “I truly hope you don’t regret it.”

With his eyes closed, Jimin fails to see the way your face flashes with an unknown emotion. “I know I won’t,” you murmur just before he fully claims your lips for a moment.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

After that starts his deal with you, and Jimin is given all the time in the world to realize- that yes, you truly are one of the weirdest humans he’s ever met, much less made a deal with.

The first evidence to that is perhaps the morning after the night of his summoning.

As a demon, he never had the need for sleep. However, after signing the contract, you’d immediately claimed to be exhausted, heading straight towards your bed. With that, he took upon it himself to first examine the state of your apartment, and to verify your past. Well, this cycle’s past, anyway.

What he finds only deepens the mystery that is you in his mind.

Twenty three years old as of today (he’s amused that you summon him, a demon, on your birthday, of all days), YN LN. Congenital birth defect. Living family, however, there’s a record of abuse towards you, particularly from your parents. Still, the charges were dropped, and the records erased. Most likely because your family is influential and rich. No friends, none that can be called upon in times of need, anyway. No lover, of course.

You also have a brief history of showing great skills, particularly academic wise. It’s baffling how you've come this low, if you remember your past lives. Luck plays a huge part in living, yes, but so does skill and it does not seem as though you are lacking in that in any way.

Not to mention, your personality. You are- brave. Or perhaps fearless is the right word. You do not panic in unknown situations, and you are clearly quite intelligent. Witty as well. Skilled, and experienced.

And yet.

You truly hold no wealth or money under your name, and you are without a job too. More than that, you live in the shady part of town, in a dilapidated apartment.

"... I can't wait to discover your secrets," Jimin cheerfully announces as he takes a seat at the table. Placed on it are food that you've cooked, and he's more than curious to try it out. Though he doesn't need to eat, he's never been one to deny himself of any pleasure, and food is no exception.

You hum in response. "Well, good luck with that. Although I'm not telling you anything."

"You will," he assuredly tells you. "It's only a matter of time."

He hears you snort, before diverting your attention back to your food. "... I hope you like it."

Jimin has high standards. Or, rather, humans have very low standards for what they see as delicious, which is understandable considering that most never leave their cities, much less their countries to sample other foods.

Still, there’s something about the hotteok you offer him that brings him comfort. He takes one bite- and a part of him is already impressed.

"It's passable," he admits, amused when he sees the way your mood suddenly seems to become happier.

For a moment, silence reigns in the room as the two of you as you eat breakfast.

A moment like this- it's rather nice. Compared to the screams and flames that fill hell with noise, the murmur of the city outside, in a time where the world still holds a small piece of quiet, Jimin finds himself relaxing a little.

Still, all too soon the food is gone and the conversation starts again.

“Truly, it astounds me, how those who heaven is frustrated with are bound to the worst lives," he finally remarks as he takes another look around at your apartment. In the light of the day, its inadequacies are only made more apparent. The wallpaper peeling off the walls, the faulty pipes that offer you poor water, rusty doors that creak noisily and the cracks in the walls and floor that are damp with water. No doubt would they leak if there is rain. “I will have you move to a more suitable lodging. This one is not fit for a human in a deal with a being like me, much less one that is fit to house a demon like me.” The distaste in his tone is pronounced.

He misses the smile on your face, hidden behind the cup of tea you’re drinking.

“I’ve made plans for you to win the lottery,” he announces.

“I refuse.” You bluntly say, before adding. “Sorry.”

Jimin frowns. “Why not,” he crosses his arms. “Would you then prefer to live in a place like this?”

“I don’t,” you deadpan. “However, winning the lottery would make people suspicious of us, and I’m pretty sure there are people who would target me for the money.”

“Are you doubting my ability to protect you?”

“I’m not. I just don’t want to deal with having to be protected in the first place.” At your words, something in your tone changes for a moment, and Jimin frowns. Sensing the sudden fall of your mood, he opts to acquiesce.

“Your family is quite well off, isn’t it? And you aren’t close to them in the slightest... I could arrange their deaths and leave you with their riches,” he offers quickly, not really meaning it- just wanting to keep your mind off whatever thoughts you found yourself in.

“For the same reason as the first, no,” you refuse. “Angels would notice, and that would be troublesome.”

“A contest?” Jimin drinks his tea while he waits for you to consider his proposal, internally pleased with your skills in cooking. It doesn’t come close to renowned chefs, but there’s something about your food that makes him feel happy, and safe. The way you’ve acted so far… the lack of fear, the familiarity… perhaps you’ve dealt with demons in your past lives? It’s certainly a possibility. “I can acknowledge your skills with food.”

You smile for a brief moment, but all the same, it’s laced with the same emotions as before. Grief and longing.

“... Thank you,” you reply after a moment, although you shake your head after. “But I don’t want the fame that comes with it. … I’ve had enough of it.”

Left over feelings from a previous cycle then. Jimin nods, finally letting out a sigh. “Well then,” he grumbles. “I suppose that leaves me no choice.”

“Human-”

“YN,” you interrupt him, gaze not particularly on him, but the tone of your voice firm. “Call me YN. Please.”

“... YN, how do you fancy a game of poker?”

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Six hours later, YN is a man richer by several hundred thousand dollars. And as Jimin feels the cold air of the night meet him as they step outside, he has to suppress the giggles building up inside him. There’s nothing quite like being in a casino, surrounded by danger and despair hidden beneath the veneer of luxury and temptation. Nothing quite like the faces revealed to them as he deceives foolish humans, especially when they believe they’re about to win- and then, just like that, the victory is taken away from them. It’s all quite hilarious, really.

“You seem quite happy,” he hears you remark. Spinning around gracefully, Jimin grins at you.

“What’s not there to be happy about?" He smoothly retorts. "I've gambled to my heart's content, and you are richer than you expected. This has been a productive evening."

He's about to tell you exactly why casinos are amazing, when he notices the man standing around the corner.

Jimin's smile falls.

Clad in simple but fashionable clothes, the handsome face and sculptured body would have been a cause for getting mobbed by humans, not just girls, but also boys.

However, he's standing alone.

He may be without his wings, but there is no mistaking the holy aura that surrounds him, evidently sensed by even humans, as none dare to approach him.

Crossing his arms, Jimin sends Taehyung a sharp look, the frown on his face all too visible. He instinctively pulls you behind him, not wanting you to get taken away by the self righteous sanctimonious angel. "Taehyung."

His name rolls off Jimin's like a curse, but it's as if Taehyung doesn't hear him, or he doesn't care.

In fact, the only assurance Jimin has that Taehyung has seen them is the way that he looks up- before freezing, the surprise all too visible as his eyes dart from you, to him. For a moment he sees something flash in his eyes- before it dies down, and like Jimin, he frowns deeply. He takes a step forward, towards you, but Jimin pulls you back as well, restoring the distance between the two of you and him.

"What are you doing with him?" Taehyung's jaw is clenched, a sure sign that he's angry, if the way his eyebrows are knitted aren't enough. "Let go of him." What more, the way he bites out his words.

“Let go of who, my human?” Jimin sneers, arm holding you close against him. A lazy smirk arises on his face as he meets Taehyung’s eyes and sees the sparks of anger inside. “You aren’t in any position to warn me away from him, angel, seeing as he called for me on his own.”

“Although it is quite intriguing for you to take so much interest in a human,” he taunts. “To go so far as having a personal meeting with him… why? Have you fallen in love?”

“YN.”

Instead of responding to Jimin's words, Taehyung turns to you, worried countenance seemingly pleading with you.

“Taehyung,” you softly reply. It makes a part of Jimin annoyed, for some reason. The first time he hears you like this- and it's for an angel. “It’s my choice.”

Still the other does not back down, and you add with a helpless sigh. “Please.”

If possible, the angel's fury grows at your words. Not to you, though, but perhaps for him. For a moment, Jimin readies himself to fight- even if he doesn't know why the angel sees you as someone close enough to personally protect, more than the view of heaven treasuring a potential asset, he's determined not to give you up. You are a mystery he wants to unravel himself, after all. And it'd be another way to oppose the angel.

Still, soon enough even that diminishes, until the angel's face is blank and seemingly uncaring.

“If you know what’s good for him and for you, you would leave,” he glowers at Jimin. And then he faces you and his face immediately softens. “I’ll try to plead with them.”

“There's no need for that,” you shake your head, a small smile on your face. “... But thank you.”

And with a nod of his head, the angel disappears, and the two of you are alone, again.

"Well," you sigh. "That was an experience."

Jimin turns to you, pinning you down (or rather, trying to) with a look. Still you remain calm under his gaze.

"An angel," he states, the question there all the same.

You only shrug at him, a playful smile on your smile as you start walking down the road. "A secret. Come on, I want to eat at a proper restaurant. Feels like it's been forever since I got to eat good food."

Jimin follows behind you dutifully, but it doesn't erase the suspicion in his heart.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

"So, YN” he starts as he watches you stroll through the aisles of clothing.

At this moment, the day after your casino outing, your first plan of action had apparently been to head to the mall and acquire new clothing. While Jimin personally thinks that there are other places, other things that you could handle first-

“Where do you think I should go then?” The sarcastic tone in your voice is loud. “The hospital? What’s the point of getting treated if, after this year, my conditions still stay the same? Maybe you’ve forgotten the state of my soul.”

“My old family? Oh, to make amends. Unfortunately I hate their guts with a passion,” you continue, making him fall silent with how suddenly the words seem to spill out of your mouth. Your face is set in a tightly neutral look, but the bitterness is easy for him to see.

“A job for after then? What’s the use? As with my condition, this cursed, rotten luck will ensure that I never truly succeed without dirtying my hands. And while I don’t mind it, it’s just too troublesome.”

“I just want to live my life the way I want to, without other people fucking butting in for once.”

There’s an intense look in your eyes then. There’s a history behind that sentence that Jimin can easily see. It can’t be from this life, so it definitely must be from your previous ones. Still, for once, he can’t help but wonder just what exactly it was like, for you to react like that.

“The mall it is, then,” Jimin hums with an easy smile, pressing his body closer to you. Since that little moment when he was first summoned, he’s noticed that he has quite the amusing effect on you whenever he goes near- your cheeks reddening, body stiffening for a moment, eyes darting away- it’s clear that on some level, even though you try to hide it, you find him attractive. Which really isn’t a surprise.

Even now, he sees you bite the inside of your cheek, angry look easing down.

And that was that.

“What is your requirement for,” he pauses, mulling the word over in his head, “‘happiness’? Is there anything in particular that you want? … I doubt you’d be one to wish for the typical.”

You pause from your steps, looking up from the rack of clothes.

The answering smirk that he spots on your face only confirms his words. “Well, I was hoping you’d answer that question,” the hint of cheer in your tone makes him look at you with even more surprise.

“... Me?” Jimin repeats. Your smile grows and you turn back to the matter at hand. In your hands.

“Give me a year of fun that can rival even more than my past lives,” you challenge him brazenly, although your attention is seemingly only on the clothes that you’ve picked. With a scowl, Jimin stalks over to you.

“And you believe I can provide you with that?” He dodges your challenge, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m curious as to what a demon enjoys,” you nonchalantly say. “Aside from casinos, that is.”

Jimin suddenly has the urge to sigh, his face falling at once, but it seems you pick up on it.

“I mean… aren’t you a demon?” you grin at him unabashedly. “Are you seriously telling me, that in all the years you’ve been a demon, you’re still surprisingly-”

He has a bad feeling about this.

“-pure?” You chortle at that word, and Jimin bristles.

“I’m not,” he instantly denies, lips pushing up. “It’s only that your wish was for me to protect you and keep you happy, however, why should that mean that I become your… your…" He pouts even harder, "... your helper?"

“Because that was our deal,” you say simply, before throwing him a look, a hint of mischief in your expression. “But there’s no shame if you can't do it. After all, it's not usually what a demon is summoned for, is it?"

Jimin crosses his arms.

"And if I choose a dangerous place? If none of what I choose brings you any enjoyment?"

"Well, if I remember, part of the deal was for you to protect me. And it’s alright, we’ve got a whole year to play around with!" With that said, you finally turn back to look at him with a pleasant smile, holding up a jacket to your frame. “How about it? Do I look good?”

“Put down that clothing for one moment,” he bites out, annoyed. “And listen to me?”

“Don’t want to,” you blithely reply. “Besides, I’ve already made the decision. You can’t make me change my mind.”

There’s an obstinacy that your stance conveys all too well, and goddamn you’re such a brat. When you refuse to look back at him, he grabs your arm, pulling your body to finally face in his direction. When you still keep your gaze locked away from him, he uses his other hand to tilt your head up firmly but gently.

In this distance of less than a foot, he looks you in the eye and asserts himself.

“I am not a toy, nor am I your butler,” he tells you slowly, but with a weight in his words. “I am a demon. If you know that, then you should know not to treat me like we’re anything like friends, as I assure you, it is only a mistake. And one that will cost you your life.”

You bare your teeth at him, eyes suddenly clear of any emotion. “And so?” You demand, pulling him closer in turn, a strange pressure present in your tone. It makes him tremble, an unknown emotion building up inside him. Annoying, frustrating, maddening. You’re the strangest human he’s ever met. “You say that like you believe that will somehow change anything.”

It’s not fair. Why do you have this effect on him?

He opens his mouth to speak-

But then he catches your expression change slightly. There is a brief flash of pain on your face, and the heavier breathing alerting him to your condition. Barely does a second pass before your legs tremble and Jimin spurs into action.

Jimin immediately maneuvers you to fall into his arms as your legs give way, leaving you to collapse on him, your chest falling and rising with increasing tempo.

“Someone dares to harm my charge,” he swears under his breath, immediately spreading out his power to sweep through the nearby areas, but to no avail. There are only humans around, ignorant humans, so-?

“It-” you shudder as you struggle to breathe, your voice coming out as a croak. “Heart-”

-of course. Your congenital birth defect.

He places one hand against your body, the magic in his veins directing, telling him that your disease is acting up again. Although a little awkward, he directs his magic through the nerves in your body, cutting off the pain and easing up the exhaustion of your body. Jimin isn’t an expert in the workings of the human body, but he at least knows enough to figure out how to temporarily ease and solve the problem at hand.

When he feels your breathing slow down, body relaxing, melting to his own- only then does Jimin allow himself to finally stop worrying.

“Don’t you humans have more regard for your life? Isn’t it human instinct to want to survive, or is your brain just that broken?” He hisses, glaring at you when you purse your lips, the very picture of stubbornness.

Still, when you speak, he’s forced to listen.

“... The moment I summoned you,” you say quietly as you press yourself closer to him. If anyone were to see the two of you now, they’d assume you were lovers embracing each other, the fleeting thought races into his mind. “I knew what I was getting into. I place my life in your hands. I trust your hands to take care of it.”

“After all,” you continue. “what else is there to live for?”

“Besides, it’s only for a year. After that, you’re free to do whatever you want with my soul.” And then do you smoothly pull away from him, earlier weakness gone, the clothes you’d been trying on in one hand as you make your way to the counter. “Choose something you like. We have the money for it anyway.”

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

After that starts what might be Jimin’s craziest deal yet. Fully committed to live your remaining year of life your way, you have no qualms about using the contract to make him submit and follow your tems.

What’s even more infuriating is the way you do it. Sure, he could easily get mad, as a demon there is pride in his bones that cannot be easily handled, but you somehow manage to avoid that. When you talk to him, your tone is always light and playful, teasing, ever so confident. You don’t bow to him, like some of the humans he’d met who knew him and his power, but neither do you assume yourself to be the better of him, ignorant and drunk on power. For a lack of a better word, even after everything he’s done to you, you treat him as an equal.

“I feel exhausted.”

“I don’t want to hear that from you, considering I was the one who carried all our luggage.”

After that event at the mall, the two of you decided on a plan.

A year’s worth of time, several hundred thousand dollars and absolutely no responsibility left to hold you down anywhere. Jimin didn’t know where to start, who the fuck would ask a demon to guide them? No one in their right mind would.

Except you, that is. Infuriating you.

“It’s not my fault I’m not as strong as you,” you dramatically sigh as you flop on the bed.

Jimin snaps the lock on the suitcase a little harder than he intends.

Still, when he’d been practically browbeaten into accepting your deals, you’d offered him a piece of advice.

“I’m alright with anything you want to do. … Isn’t there something you wished you could do here? I don’t imagine a demon can spend so much time aboveground, the same way angels don’t linger here.”

So here the two of you were, on a trip around the world.

“Maybe not,” he mutters under his breath, “but getting here would have been done much faster if it weren’t for you almost fainting in the middle of the damn street.”

“I didn’t think it was that serious,” is your blithe reply.

Starting from Japan, to Philippines, to a week in a country of your choosing, sometimes more, sometimes less, the two of you have gone in several different countries, trying out food, experiencing the vividly different cultures, learning about famous landmarks and basically touring around. All things that Jimin (if only to himself) admits that he enjoys, especially with your company.

Choosing this particular plan is perhaps a mix of his own desires and an assumption. Almost every human had the desire to travel the world, didn’t they? Even you, with your past lives, would have to enjoy it.

He just didn’t expect how much he himself would have fun as well.

“You,” he sighs, “are completely hopeless.”

“But you’re still here with me, aren’t you?”

Perhaps that’s why three months later, as the two of you are checking in into your hotel rooms, he finds himself… being more gentle (not fussing, not, he would never fuss or truly worry about you, he’s a demon for fuck’s sake) with you, especially after you’ve just experienced another one of your episodes.

Three months with you, and Jimin’s become accustomed with you being… well, you.

When you mention something clearly ridiculous (who asks a demon to dye his hair? Just because you are doesn’t mean he should, and why would he know how to?), to doing something ridiculous (he didn’t really need that stuffed toy. Really), to just about almost collapsing from overexerting your body in your excitement (the most annoying thing about it perhaps may be the fact that you don’t even seem to care that you’re in pain, just that you can’t move as your body refuses to listen to you), he slowly becomes used to handling you. Reading you, learning to take care of you.

He doesn’t understand it himself, even as he slowly recognizes that maybe, just maybe, he’s started caring for you more than he should. More than he wanted to, far more than he ever thought he would.

He accepted the deal because you were a mystery he wanted to unravel, but as each day passes, he finds your existence to be more than enough reason for him to stay.

“I keep telling you to take better care of yourself,” he scolds you as you lie down on the bed, eagle-spread. Still you remain completely at ease, complacent look on your face and body relaxed. If not for the way that you eye him with amusement, Jimin would assume you’re not listening to him at all. As it is, he fixes you with a glare. “I’m not all-encompassing, you know. All I can do is take the pain away and temporarily fix your body’s failure.”

“That’s more than enough for me,” you cheerfully exclaim. Jimin aggressively unpacks the clothes in the dresser in response, grumbling under his breath. No matter how much he practically insults you into taking care of yourself, you always shrug off his words.

“What kind of human are you? Don’t you want to live?”

“Of course I want to live,” you immediately reply, before yawning. “But I don’t want to live it in a hospital.”

“Anyway, this current life is good enough for me. As long as I’m happy, I don’t care what happens to my body,” you quietly laugh, as if there is a joke hidden somewhere in your words that Jimin has failed to see. “Now, won’t you kiss the pain away?”

He sighs even as he looks over you, scanning you for any signs that your disease has flared up again. You wink at him in turn and he snaps his head around, annoyed at you. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Says the one who took me to Disney World. A demon taking a human to Disney World, can you think of anything more ridiculous than that?”

The clothes in his hand almost slip from him as he splutters. Red flashes in his cheeks as he whirls around to glare (read: pout) at you. “You had fun! … Didn’t you?”

“Of course I did,” you agree with a small smile. “I’m pretty sure I had the most fun there, even if you were the one screaming your head off while we rode the rollercoaster.” Jimin’s face reddens even more at the reminder, while you chuckle at his reaction. “Though you lost all your dignity for a moment.”

“If you can make jokes like that, then I know you’re feeling alright already,” he glowers. “Go on and get some rest.”

“Yes sir,” you mock salute him, before shutting your eyes and falling asleep just like that. Jimin sighs, and then pulls up the sheets to your chin.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

“Why does he like to visit you so fucking much?” He asks, maybe a little more aggressively than he likes. Still, it’s very much justified in his opinion. Taehyung stops by way too often, dropping by at least once a week, if not even more. It aggravates him to no end, to see the angel dare to get close to what Jimin has marked as his. “Does he not have anything else to do, or is heaven really that idle?”

His irritation only deepens as your lips quirk up in amusement.

“He’s just checking up on me.”

“What he is is being a nuisance and an overall pest. The urge to swat him down like the fly that he is rises up every time he appears.”

He hears you snort with laughter beside him.

“Pfft! Geez, alright. Instead of thinking about that, why don’t you look over this with me?”

He feels you lean on his shoulder, the phone’s screen showing your possible next destination.

“As long as that fly doesn’t dare to appear, I’m fine with wherever.”

“So you don’t mind missing out on the music festival in England for some other place then-?”

“I never said that,” he glares at you, pout on full display, ignoring your snickers. “Give me that phone.”

“Yes, yes, here you go.”

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

It takes him five months- almost half of the time he’s dedicated to your deal- before he asks you about the question he’s always wanted to know the answer to, the curiosity backed up by the fact that you probably will answer him. Hopefully.

Five months, and with every little thing he manages to glean about you, there comes another question to replace it. The skills he can easily guess to be remnants of your past lives, far off gazes reminiscing old memories, the unbothered attitude the accumulation of lives lived and lost.

Not to mention the way you always seem so... sad. Yes, perhaps that’s the best way to describe it. You hide it well, but even as you smile, you always seem to be one step saying goodbye. It doesn’t make sense, considering it was your choice to traded away your remaining years. Not to mention, you’ve let it slip that no one from your past lives are still living in the present.

Although.

It’s not as if he cares, not really- besides the fact that you always keep him on his toes, surprising him at ever moment, you’re just like any other human. Actually, you’re even less than that, considering your living conditions.

But time is running out, and if he lets you slip away without even trying, out of fear, then it wouldn’t be like him, now would it? And that won’t do at all.

At this moment, the two of you are sitting on the roof of the cabin you’ve rented out in Swedish Lapland. Something that you both came here to accomplish was seeing an aurora borealis, and as you’re both clad in warm layers of fur, hot chocolate in your flasks as snow surrounds you below and around you and the brilliant flashes of light above you- he can’t help but let his thoughts wander.

For once Jimin decides to take a step past the line he’s tried to define against you.

“What were your past lives like?” The question slips from him before he can take it back, and he sees you tense up, though you soon cover it up with a befuddled look.

“Hm?”

“You know what I mean,” he pushes. “Even us demons barely remember our human lives, much less a human like you who remembers their past cycles.”

A flash of heat decorates his cheeks as he sees the light in your eyes fade a little. “.. I was merely curious. It’s alright if you don’t want to-”

“I was the village healer in my first life,” you simply state. Jimin freezes, shocked that you would even reply.

Still, when he sees you turn to him, the look on your face clearly asking him to respond, he clears his throat.

“A healer huh…” he trails off, the image of you in his head becoming clear. “Somehow, I can easily see you as one. … Although it’s a little ironic, considering your current state.”

“Yeah,” you quietly chuckle. “It was one of my favorites. I had a loving family, and many friends. We had enough to live by ourselves, and the place where we lived was peaceful and beautiful.“

“Our village was situated on the mountainside- we were surrounded by this huge forest, and the blue sea below. My daily life started with tending to my patients first, and then to my garden. After that, I’d go into the forest to scavenge wild herbs, and I’d always take the time to appreciate the beautiful scenery. When I got back, I’d start making medicine, and then I’d continue taking care of any patients that came through the door.”

“Sounds like an idyllic life,” Jimin remarks, before adding, “If it were me, I wouldn’t have been able to stand that.”

“I wouldn’t begrudge you for missing that sort of life. It’s much more simple and easier than the life humans lead nowadays.”

You laugh, the sound full of melancholy even as there is nostalgia in it. “Right? You have the same way of thinking as- as him,” you pause, before your tone changes to a softer, gentler one, full of unspoken feelings. “My best friend. Kindest, most cheerful and helpful angel of our village. He was the son of our chief, but that wasn’t the reason why everyone loved him. We all adored him because he was the brightest part of our lives.”

“You sound overly fond of him.”

“I am.” The way you phrase your words doesn’t escape him as you look him in the eyes. You pause for a moment, before almost whispering the words, though he still hears them. “I will always love him.”

“... Do you?” For some reason, Jimin’s chest feels tight. It’s impossible for it to be like that. His body doesn’t function the same way that a human does, after all, no matter how much it may seem otherwise. Still, the way it suddenly feels as though the breath in him is slowly being stolen away, pain filling in the space left- he hates it. “How did it go, then?”

“How did what go?” You ask him, bemused. He sighs irritably and repeats his question, mixed emotions unknowingly present in his tone.

“You said you love him, so… did you, with him...?”

For a moment, you stare at him in surprise-

- and then you burst into laughter, long and hard. “Pfft! No, we didn’t,” you clarify as you giggle. “I’m sure I don’t have to point it out explicitly, but he was the son of the village chief, and I was just the healer. Besides, we were both men. No one would have approved of it, and it’s not like we could just shrug off the village and run away together.”

You smile widely, brighter than he’s ever seen you smile before, but Jimin is not blind to the lingering pain inside. “He got married to someone else.”

“... He did? But I remember you saying you were the closest one to him. If he knew-”

“-I never told him,” you shrug, a hollow chuckle slipping out. “It wouldn’t have done anything anyway, except make him miserable.”

It should make him happy. Thinking about this ‘best friend’ of yours who you’re still in love with makes him unnaturally angry, and to know that you have feelings left for a ghost even more.

Yet in the face of your heartbreak, as much as you try to hide it, Jimin feels sympathy for you instead. He clears his throat, breaking the silence.

“So you spent your life alone, then. While the guy you loved was with someone else?” He shakes his head. “I’m surprised, and yet I’m not.” Only half a year spent with you, and yet he can tell it’s something you would do. “Tell me about your next lives then.”

You smile a little then, recognizing the out he’s giving you. After a brief period of contemplation, you start speaking again.

You tell Jimin vaguely about your previous lives, the previous cycles you’ve gone through. You tell him about the city in your second life, the wandering merchant family you’d been born to and how you were pulled into the trade. You dipping into secret deals, backstabbing and a little manipulation to protect your family from malicious people. Your third life, where you are from a family of low nobles, and your forage into politics to find out who’s your allies and who’s your enemies. All the way up to your eight life, you talk, and talk, and talk, filling up the silence of the night with tales of lives lived so long ago, details lost to history and moments uncaptured but remembered.

Even as a demon, as old as Jimin may be to the humans, he’s barely as old as you are, if one were to take your first life as your moment of birth. He’s only heard snippets and rumours of dynasties and eras so far down history, nothing can be proven a hundred percent true. Yet in your words, you manage to vividly paint a picture, a window into a world he’s never seen before.

In your eighth life, you tell him about the powerful family you’re born into. About the way your family held you tight, how politics ran deeply and tightly around the city, the powerful dictating the lives of those without, and how you carved a place for yourself into history despite the obstacles in your way.

About the prince you grew up with, the emperor you eventually strived to serve faithfully.

That’s something that he’s noticed is a commonality with every lifetime of yours. There is always the presence of this other person. Some lifetimes, they are your childhood friend and others they come late into your life. Their personality often varies, and so do your relationship, but several things always remain the same.

You and them are partners in some sense of the word.

They are in a position of power higher than yours.

You are close to them, devoted to them, perhaps even in love with them, although it never leads to anything tangible in the end.

“That sounds like a tedious life,” he quietly comments as you tell him about the banquet you’d been forced to attend, the beautiful but dry and cold food. “It doesn’t seem like one you’d like, but let me guess, this lifetime around he was the emperor, wasn’t he?”

To your point, you don’t ask him what he’s talking about. A bitter smile alights on your lips instead as you consider his question.

You huff. “Yeah. It’s kinda obvious, isn’t it? He was the emperor’s son in that lifetime,” you admit. “I helped him battle his siblings and gain the throne.”

“But if you’re wondering... as I’m sure you know, relationships between the emperor and the officials are forbidden.” You look away from him then, eyes going back up to the northern lights above, though neither of you have been paying attention to it since the conversation started. “I was already pretty controversial in that time.”

He raises an eyebrow. “How?”

“Secret~” you smirk. He frowns at you, rolling his eyes- and you giggle.

“... I can’t understand how your soul became like that,” he grumbles. “How the hell do you have a soul that’s both pure and not? More than that, how is it that you happen to be reborn together and in almost the same circumstance in every life? It’s as though you’re tied together.”

You laugh, although it’s tinged with sadness. “... if I ever find out how, maybe I’ll tell you someday.”

He only rolls his eyes. “You will.”

The resounding laughter he hears from you makes it worth it. Still...

“Where is he in this lifetime, then?” He finally asks. Surely, if this person who you’ve met and waited for in every cycle has been part of your life without fail, then, surely, he has to have appeared in this one as well, right?

Although he thinks they don’t deserve you, but they obviously make you happy, and… you’re just about the only human Jimin thinks deserves that word the most. Happiness. He hasn’t seen you truly happy even just once, and it’s not as if he cares, no. But you made the deal with him to enjoy your last life, didn’t you?

You fall silent at his question, lips struggling to hold the smile on your face. When it doesn’t work, you take a deep breath, and then turn to him. “... Who knows? If he’s out there, alive… I just hope he’s happy.”

Jimin hisses at that.

“Asshole,” he furiously mutters. “After everything you sacrificed for him, you should get to have your own happiness too. If I ever see him, I’ll-”

You interrupt his angry tirade with laughter, warm and isn’t it funny how that single action seems to be more effective at keeping the cold away than the drink in his hands?

“Being with him was what already made me happy,” you smile. “But thank you.”

He pouts, wracking his mind for words to not only keep your smile afloat but to show you how worthless the person you’ve endured heartache for is. “... I wouldn’t leave you to suffer alone.”

“I know,” you coo at him, smile becoming a smirk.

“Because of our deal,” he hurriedly clarifies, the tips of his ears burning red as you lean on his shoulder. Jimin feels his body stiffen as the weight of your head on his side registers. He doesn’t want to push you away- but damn it if this isn’t something he’s ever done, and is familiar with before.

Your fingers intertwine with his, bringing with them affection and comfort, and he finally calms down with a huff. “... I-I made a deal with you, after all.”

“Yeah, I know,” you repeat, obviously struggling to hold back your laughter. “Thank you.”

“... As long as you know.”

That night ends with the two of you spending far more time than you should out in the cold, no matter that it’s the rooftop of your cabin. The aurora lights last all night long, the beautiful glows of colors dissipating and blending into the rosy colors of the morning sky, a beautiful sight that even Jimin has to appreciate as he sees it from the bedroom’s window.

If only you would wake up from your slumber, you could see it too. Still, he isn’t too keen on waking you up in any way, much less shoving your body away from him.

… Even if your body is a little too cold than he likes.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

It’s in his seventh month of being with you that he slowly realizes something. As the cherry blossoms die, autumn leaves falling and snow coating the world in white, he realizes that maybe, just maybe, he’s let you come a little too close, a little too familiar with this heart.

At first he looked forward to knowing your secrets, but it’s infuriating to realize that even as much as he gets to know about you, it’s surprisingly not enough. He wants more. It never feels enough- whether it be your secrets, your attention, or maybe just you.

Not to mention he’s never had reason to stay so long as he has in the human realm, and not so close to anyone, moreso his human. Perhaps that’s part of the reason why it takes him so long to realize.

The way that it dawns on him too is frustrating- the thought instantly settling in his mind when he sees you flash one of your rare smiles at him. Mid-afternoon, as you stir the tea in your hand, the sunlight almost seeming to cover you with an ethereal glow as you sit with your back against the window.

For once, you’re the one filling the silence, chuckling over incidents that happened as the two of you went to see the parade earlier that day. The memory of you watching the performers decked beautifully in white facepaint, skull masks and roses, and elaborate clothing, with an awed look on your face… the thought of it makes him smile unconsciously and you catch it.

“Are you smiling?” You raise an eyebrow at him, bemused. “I didn’t know you liked the parade that much, you wanted to join.”

Red flares up in his cheeks when your words sink in. “What. I- I wasn’t smiling! I was just- thinking.”

You give him a skeptical look, eyes travelling from feet to head, before you hide a very visible smirk behind your cup of tea. “Huh. Must’ve been a wonderful thought, if it made you smile so easily like that,” you tease him. “... It’s nice seeing you smile more often these days.”

Do I? He wonders. You’re all that fills his head these days, from your ridiculous antics and decisions, the unfathomable way of thinking you have, the way you so easily see him and read him. Does he really smile that much, when you’re the only thing he thinks about so much?

Do the thoughts of you really make him happy, enough to the point that he’s always smiling?

You offer him a warm grin. “I’m glad. I worried I was the only one enjoying this deal, after all.”

… He’s fucked.

After that, it takes a miracle (heh) to act the same as before, to pretend that nothing is going on. After all, it’s not as if he can confess his love for you, can he? He isn’t even sure if it’s love that he feels- can demons even feel that emotion?

But the truth is, now that he’s aware of just how much exactly you mean to him, it’s hard not that smile a little too much when you get the pleased look in your eyes, to keep the laughter at bay when you make a mistake and pout just the tiniest little bit, sulking, to generally just not let you catch on that everything you do is making him feel like holding you close as much and as long as his heart demands.

He can’t. He shouldn’t. He wants you, and he’s never had a problem with taking what he’s set his sights on before. But you aren’t like anything else he’s collected. You aren’t a toy he wants to play around with, nor are you a rare item he wants to keep locked up. You’re someone he treasures, and while he has no doubt he’s charming and powerful, that on some level, you’re attracted to him, that’s not enough to make you choose him.

At least, not enough for you to pick him over them.

Not if you chased them across literal lifetimes, if you’ve spent lifetimes dedicated to them.

Even now, when he approaches the subject, he can feel you distance yourself from him. He’s torn.

Jimin watches you, a smile of his own appearing.

I don’t want to push it and push him away for good.

But.

I really want to get past this wall.

… It’s fine though. There’s still time. There’s still time to make you change your mind, to love him too. He’ll make sure of it. After all, whoever he is is long gone, and Jimin is the one in front of you and beside you at all times. Something is bound to change.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

“You’re much more agreeable these days.”

Walking side by side, he thinks that it would be more than easy to reach across and hold your hand in his. Instead, he raises an eyebrow at you and pushes those thoughts out of his mind.“And? You aren’t complaining, are you?”

You chuckle. He averts his gaze, feeling a little blinded. “No, not really. Just an observation. Does this mean you won’t mind the festival tomorrow? It’ll be messy, after all. And not in the way you like.”

He grumbles. “... I suppose so. It’s not like I have a choice, anyway, so why not?”

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

The days pass, and the cold becomes unbearable. It burrows under his skin, surrounding his body that not even human clothes can keep away. Especially at night, when the temperature is at its lowest, does he find himself shivering. Although admittedly, it’s much better than how it was months ago, now that the seasons are shifting into spring, it’s still bad for his health.

At least that’s what he tells you, any extension himself, as you continue to share one bed. You are his responsibility, but in the line of thinking Jimin is someone under your care too, as you are both partners. Therefore, it only makes sense for you to share warmth with him by cuddling (read: spooning, you’d been the one to bring it up after a very embarrassed Jimin almost stomped off, although you never mentioned the implications wrapped around it) with you.

In your arms, your scent surrounds him, legs thrown over his own, your hair soft on his cheek. Moments like this are hard to come by, but that just makes him savor every one of them even more.

Under the darkness of the room, minutes after you’ve agreed to turn off the lights and go to sleep, he finds himself whispering, wondering if you’ll reply.

“Aren’t you scared to die? … Is it really that terrible, to be confined in a hospital?”

Your response is short, tone even, but the way you tighten your hold on him says everything.“I’m more scared to not have lived.”

“And honestly… I can’t stand the somber atmosphere in hospitals. I never have, and I never will.”

Months ago, he wouldn’t even have entertained sharing a bed with a human, much less cuddle with one. But these days, Jimin finds he can’t ever sleep without the uneven beat of your heart lulling him to sleep.

He’s become spoiled with your presence.

“I’ll give you the best two months of your life,” he mumbles before correcting himself. “... Lifetimes.”

“Really now,” you hum, a yawn escaping you near the end, “I’m looking forward to it then.”

“Don’t give me those perfunctory words,” he gripes. “I mean it.”

“I know,” you adjust your position, just so that Jimin is pulled close, close, closer to you. WHe can hear the faint beating of your heart even louder, the miniscule warmth of your body a familiar blanket over his own. “... I’m just really tired right now. Can we go to sleep?”

Jimin finally yawns too, feeling exhaustion wash over him as you accept his declaration. “... Alright, fine. Good night, YN.”

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

But everything good has to come to an end. It isn’t an opinion, but rather a fact, and Jimin is only reminded of this just as the seasons start to shift back to spring, the year coming to its last month.

The way it happens is not even anything gradual, or perhaps it is, but he’s long chosen to ignore it. Because he’s been able to handle it so far, so it should be okay, right? If it’s for you, he’s willing to dole out his magic freely for your sake, so, you’d be alright no matter what, right?

But the way you suddenly collapse on the sidewalk tells him otherwise.

There’s barely a few seconds of warning, maybe one or two. Jimin can’t really tell. All he can remember is how you were walking side by side under the warm weather, enjoying the sun him telling you to take a break at the next cafe over, your laughter ringing out-

-before you fall over, just like that, your legs and arms painfully stiff, you almost crashing onto the asphalt if it weren’t for him catching you in his arms.

“J-Jimin,” you instantly choke out his name, the blue tint of your skin becoming stronger as the words fail to leave you, leaving you gasping and clutching your chest. He isn’t as worried at first, thinking that he only has to fix your failing heart again, but-

No. Your blood won’t move. It won’t close.

He tries again, his hand clutching you tighter this time as if to respond to the panic slowly rising up inside of him, but- still. It’s as if your body is rejecting him, the magic being blocked out, unable to enter you-

“No-”

-and he can only uselessly hold you in his arms, you getting closer to dying with every moment that he wastes-

“No, no, n-no-” he stammers.“YN, hang in there-”

Again and again, he keeps trying, trying to push your body to do something, but no, nothing.

From thereon, it’s a blur. He remembers that he can call the hospital, and scrambling for his phone, he immediately punches the numbers in, though his hands shake with every passing second.

“9-911, help, please-” he chokes out, “please help, m-my YN, he’s- he’s-”

“Sir, can you please give us your location?” The voice that answers him is quick, urgent, but focused, and how can they be focused when you’re bent over, convulsing in pain-?

“I-I can’t-” he stammers, the address muddled in his head. Though he then looks around, searching for landmarks to give the other person. “W-We’re in front of the entrance to the Keukenhof Gardens.“

He fails to hear what they say, the only words standing out in his head that they’re coming.

It should amaze him, later on, how at this moment all the panic seems to melt away and not, leaving him shaking but able to speak better, clearer. It’s as if the emotions have dulled away, leaving him pounding but still going on.

“YN,” he tells you, voice wrapped up in emotions that not even he can tell is what. “Hold on, the medics are coming- just-”

“Jimin,” you whimper, trembling. He can see your skin turn even bluer with every passing second, a warning that your heart is pumping yet your lungs are failing. You’re clearly in pain, but- despite that, your whole focus is on him. “... I couldn’t- I can’t see you- I t-thought you left me again.”

An ugly sob tears its way out his chest then. It feels as if his eyes are burning with tears, blurring his vision, but he’s resolved not to let you go.

“D-Don’t worry about that. I’m right h-here sweetheart,” he reassures with a shaky voice. “Didn’t I say I’d n-never leave you? Just focus on my voice-”

Whatever words he speaks next, you never hear as you fall unconscious. Jimin catches you in his arms, and promises to not let you go.

He doesn’t register the sound of the ambulance arriving, the medics pulling you away from him, him using his power to convince them to let him go with you. The ambulance’s siren doesn’t sink into him, and neither do the busy personnel connecting you to various machines and leading you away into the emergency room, him stuck outside as they tell him to wait. He wants to go inside, to see you, but- they tell him that they can’t work with him in there. So he lets him be sat down on the bench outside by the nurse, eyes drifting into space as he stares at the doors.

All that remains on loop in his mind is the moment you look at him with tears dripping down your face, the terror reflected back in his eyes as you whispered that you thought he’d left again.

The tears fall even faster.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

When they allow him to come in, hours and hours and what feels like an eternity later, the sight of feathers and a(n unfortunately) familiar face barely surprises him. After all, it was made clear to him during your earliest days with you that the angel has a soft spot for you, though how much is still a mystery.

“Taehyung,” he says quietly. “what are you doing here?”

“What do you think?” Taehyung stands by your bed, lips pursed and entire countenance stony as he regards Jimin. You continue to slumber, unaware of the conversation taking place before you. “I should be the one asking you that question. Then again, I guess I can’t be too surprised. You really are dedicated to your job, aren’t you?” He doesn’t laugh, only tightening his grip. “I’d say I hope you’re happy with what you’ve done to him, what you will do to him, but we both already know that’s a lie.”

Jimin bristles. “You say that like I intended for this to happen. … I care about YN.”

At his answer, Taehyung only seems to grow even more furious, the tick in his jaw appearing as his glare becomes murderous.

“If you really cared for him,” he doesn’t outright yell, no, but Taehyung’s voice is low, trembling with anger, the type that takes every part of yourself to hold back. His hands are drawn into fists and Jimin doesn’t doubt that if you weren’t asleep, he wouldn’t even talk, he’d use his fists instead. “You wouldn’t have stayed near him at all, much less let it come to this point!”

“If you cared about him, you would have let him move on!”

“I-” Jimin should be angry, and he is, but there’s something about Taehyung’s words, something about the grief in his face that forces him to take a step back. “W-What do you mean…?”

“... this was supposed to be his last chance,” Taehyung whispers. Looking down at your sleeping face, Jimin sees the way his face crumbles with bitterness. “If he could just move on from you and start anew, he could have been given a chance to be an angel instead. Now, it doesn’t even matter if you and him aren’t like before, that he hasn’t done anything to harm others at all, they aren’t letting him go-”

Jimin’s whole body stills as he stares at Taehyung.

“... Like before?”

Taehyung’s face darkens- and then he snaps.

“How daft can you be?! Have you never wondered just why, out of so many demons, you’re the one he summoned? 75 years of a human life, even on their last cycles, that’s more than enough for a lifetime of wealth and riches!” Taehyung’s voice becomes increasingly loud, anger and blame visible in his eyes, before they shift to bitterness. “But no, he just wanted you. You, who’s always been the reason why he got screwed over in all of his previous lifetimes!”

“I…”

“And now he’s dying, his tenth life and he can’t enter heaven or hell, neither can his soul be broken and made anew,” he spat out bitterly. “Don’t preach to me about how his current state is our fault, because if you’d never tempted him in the first place he wouldn’t even be born into this wretched state!”

After saying his piece, it’s as if a string controlling Taehyung has been cut, as his whole body sags. Once more does he show grief in his face, tears falling and him brushing them away.

And Jimin?

He doesn’t know what to say, how to react.

Thinking back on it, perhaps the clues had been there all along, and it was just him who refused to see it for what it was. The whole mystery, presented to him, while still missing important pieces had already given him the most important information.

All along, it’d been Jimin who YN searched for in every life, who you’ve been devoted to, may be in love with, and-

And him who’s ruined you in turn, whether it be your previous lives or this one.

The revelation makes him fall, crushing the breath in his lungs. It feels like he’s falling, deep, hard, with no way out and goddamn it why would you still want him after everything?

“... no.”

It’s your words that halt them in their tracks. Surprised, they see you awake.

“YN!”

They both exclaim your name in surprise. You smile weakly at them in turn, and the way you struggle to breathe a little doesn’t escape them.

“Thank you, Taehyung, for trying to protect me,” you start, before your smile turns sad. “But I think you forget I’ve always had the choice to leave Jimin. If I ever wanted to, if it ever got too hard for me, I could have left. But I didn’t. And I never will.”

You close your eyes. “A life without him isn’t a life worth living at all.”

Taehyung’s laugh is broken as your words sink in. “Is it worth it even if it costs you everything?”

“You know my answer will always be yes.”

It’s kind of funny. Jimin has always known you would die. Not just mentioning how you’re human, the fact that you refused to get treatment for your condition means death was only ever a few steps behind you.

But even so, now that the moment is creeping closer, it still hits him hard, anyways.

Perhaps the worst thing yet is the calm smile on your face, reminiscent of the first time Jimin’s met you. You aren’t angry, aren’t defiant, aren’t trying to fight against this in any way at all- you’re just accepting what’s to come and it breaks both of their hearts.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

After that, Taehyung leaves, though not before he has a private talk with you. When he leaves your room, Jimin sees the trail of tears remaining on his face before he disappears.

Coming in, it all feels like a dream.

It was only a day ago that the two of you had been planning to take a stroll together and admire the garden boasted to be the ‘most beautiful spring garden in the world’.

Now the only thing that reminds him of spring inside is the flowers on the vase by your bedside (probably placed there by Taehyung, his mind tells him). You’re admiring them with a small smile (fake, his mind oh so helpfully tells him), though the way you’re determinedly not meeting his gaze, hands clutching the blanket tightly tells him otherwise.

Silence reigns in the room like so many times before, but this time, neither of you are breaking it. He can only stare at you, the questions in his mind screaming at each other to make themselves known, but as he sees the vulnerable stance you’re holding, your body curled up just enough that you could hide in on yourself, he hesitates.

He can’t.

It’s with that that Jimin turns around, intending to leave, but-

Only then do you finally speak. Your voice is almost a whisper, but he hears it loud and clear. “Don’t leave,” you beg him. “Please.” The way your voice cracks at the end with unshed tears echoes in the room.

Jimin stops. A moment passes- and then he turns around again, sighing as he seats himself beside you. You still aren’t looking at him, but you aren’t quite looking away from him either.

“... Is it true then? YN.”

You flinch, but you answer all the same.

“... Yeah, it is.” When you speak next, it’s only too obvious that you’re trying to be casual and light. “Sorry about that. I didn’t think Taehyung was such a blabbermouth.”

Jimin already knew. That was a fact.

But damn it if it doesn’t hurt right now. If it doesn’t make him physically sick, to consider his part in your current condition. To actually have to face the truth. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have-”

“You could have what?” You interrupt him. Jimin falls silent, unable to answer and you smile bitterly. “That’s what I thought.”

“If I told you when we first met, would you have believed me?”

He looks away. “... Yes, I would have.”

“Liar,” you immediately call him out, a hint of exasperation present in your tone. “Don’t blame yourself, Jimin. I chose this. I’m happy right now.”

“Originally I wasn’t going to find you, but… when I saw you, you just reminded me of the old you,” you smiled sadly. “when you didn’t know what to live for, desperate for anything to keep you going. And then I realized you didn’t recognize me… I just wanted to see you smile happily again.”

And then it feels as though someone’s punched him in the chest.

“If you die, I won’t be smiling happily anymore! If you die right now, I won’t find any reason to smile for the rest of this hell that I’m stuck as a demon. This time, I won’t ever be able to forget you. I won’t ever be able to forget your smiles, your laughter, the way you smirk at me when you tease me- I couldn’t ever forget you.” He chokes out, tears brimming in his eyes as he looks you in the eyes, forcing you to see him. “How could you ever think there would be a life where I wouldn’t fall in love with you?”

“... I’m sorry, Jimin,” your voice breaks with tears. “I’m sorry for being selfish. I should’ve just let you go, I’m sorry, I just missed you so much-”

He doesn’t know who starts crying first, only that the two of you are so close to shattering.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

“What did I do to you?” He finally asks. To your credit, you don’t break eye contact with him, only flinching a little. Jimin quietly continues. “Taehyung… he said your soul became like this because of me. I want to know the full story.”

When he senses you hesitating, thinking over what to say, he clasps your hands in his own. “Please.”

Your shoulders sag, and you look away.

“... in our first life, your wife cheated on you with another man from her village,” you finally say softly.

Jimin says nothing, only encouraging you to speak.

“Your father married you to her because she was the daughter of the head of the neighboring village, and she seemed to like you. When you were married, you made sure to treat her well, going above what people would normally do and almost even pampering her. With everything that was going on, you becoming head and your marriage, we began drifting away.”

“But your wife turned out to be tricking you only for the money and the status. I soon found out she’d been stealing money and lying about it, and going behind your back to see other men. At first I was incensed, and I immediately confronted her. She knew I could make you listen, so she promised to stop and change her ways. I agreed. I didn’t want you to be heartbroken when you realized how much she’d been lying to you.”

“... I found her under another man weeks later, near the shed. I confronted them, threatening to tell you- and her lover, who obviously knew who I was, panicked. He tried to kill me then, but I was stronger than him- and then he tried pleading for his innocence, killing your wife in turn before begging me to let it go.”

“I was shocked. At first I didn’t know what to do, but then I tried to confront her, and well-” you fall silent again, obviously torn about telling him what happens next. Jimin awaits your response, and it isn’t long before you make up your mind.

“... I tried to detain him, but in the process killed him instead. You came out, attracted by the ruckus… I can’t ever forget the face you had when you saw both your wife and another man dead, and me, standing over them,” your voice comes out as a whisper. “You never blamed me, especially after you heard the truth, but- we were never the same afterwards.”

“I think… that was the start of everything.”

The way you retell your past lives now, revealing to him the parts that you glossed over before, it puts the clues he’s seen before in clear perspective. It breaks his heart to hear your journey through the different lives, always there for him, always getting dragged into the darker side of the world because of him. Because of him, in almost every life you’ve been dragged to kill, to manipulate, to ruin lives on his account. If not to protect him, to keep him safe then to avenge him in some way.

Taehyung was right. It is his fault.

Finally, you touch upon your last life with him, your eight life.

“In our eight life, you were the emperor’s son, and I was the concubine’s son of the right minister of the court. We were childhood friends,” you smile a little in reminiscence.

“... The royal family was full of backstabbing and schemes. I wanted to protect you, but I was too young. When I finally had the power, you were already broken in by others, wanting nothing but power and revenge. I thought… no, I wanted to help. If I could have just stopped it sooner, you wouldn’t have suffered so much after all,” the guilt in your tone is thick as is the regret in your eyes. “I became the minister, scheming and backstabbing others in order to gain what I wanted, to protect you, and to help you get revenge.”

“At the end of that life, we’d drenched the whole city in blood, not a single person against you left alive.”

“... I remember that,” Jimin finally says.

A demon’s past lives are always sealed shut and kept secret, but- perhaps just by the virtue of standing by you, the one person who’s always been a central point in all his lives, that he can remember at least his last life clearly.

“... I was poisoned, wasn’t I?” He chuckles. Your smile tightens, a shaky breath leaving you that he knows isn’t just from your illness.

“Yeah,” you confirm. “In the ninth life, I couldn’t find you anywhere. I lived my whole life searching for you, but I couldn’t even sense the slightest hint of you anywhere.”

“You were looking in the wrong realm,” he laughs a little. You shrug.

“... And now, this life.”

“This life,” he echoes, falling quiet.

“You already know about my family. My mother dying at childbirth, father abandoning me, my relatives only being greedy… I ran away as soon as I could. I suffered, that’s true, but- I thought,” you swallow nervously. “I couldn’t find you anywhere last time. And this was my last life. So… I thought that maybe, I could summon a demon to help me search for you, if you were at least still alive somewhere.”

“Imagine my surprise when I summoned you instead.”

You place a small kiss on his palm, intertwining your hand with him after. “I promised I’d only take a little peek, see if you were happy, but… I guess… I guess I got greedy.”

Jimin lets out a shaky exhale, feeling the strength leave him as your words sink into his mind. “And Taehyung?”

“I met him in my ninth life. I’m pretty sure he already told you, but… he’s the one who made it possible for me to remember my past lives,” you smile a little at that. “I started searching for you after that.”

“I guess they were pretty anxious for a new angel to arrive, making me that deal.”

He scoffs. “The amount of angels that enter heaven have heavily decreased these past centuries. I’m not too surprised if they are. For a system that prides itself on its morality, their pragmatism rivals even hell itself.”

“Yeah,” you simply reply. “Don’t be too harsh on him, okay? He was the reason I found you in this life, after all. I’m thankful I got to see you again in my last life.”

And just like that, he’s reminded again of the situation at hand.

“After all, they said,” you continue, “I could die at any moment now.”

Fingers trace where your heart would be in your chest. “Complications from my birth defect. A blood clot formed in one of the arteries near my heart. ”

“More than that though- there’s only two weeks left, before our contract ends,” you tell him. Jimin squeezes your hand, seated beside you.

“...Is there anything you want?”

“Just stay with me, please,” you close your eyes as you lean on him.

“Alright. Alright, I can do that.”

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

After that, Jimin stays by your side at all times, every waking second of the day, if not to keep you company, then to ease the pain in your body. It’s ironic, considering your past lives. He remembers being bedridden, every change of his condition monitored. You’d told him multiple times then, that you were willing to follow him to the grave. The ministers praised your loyalty. Only he knew that it wasn’t a promise so much as a statement.

“Wow,” your lips quirk into a grin as you take the cup from his hands. “Tea from you, our great and oh-so-gracious emperor. How lucky of me.”

“Perfectly brewed tea too,” he preens as you compliment him.

In a reversal of roles, he brews you tea, accompanying you around (though not too far lest your disease acts up again), making sure that in your last days, you’re left with as little regret and as much contentment as you can get.

Still, he can’t help thinking over the angel’s words. Every time he sees you just enjoy being alive together, he wonders, why not? If it guaranteed your survival, he’d push you to become a demon, or even an angel.

The one time that he brings it up, though, you instantly shoot him down.

“I don’t want to be an angel,” you bluntly state. “If I did, I’d be bound to fight you someday. Besides, heaven cast me out already..”

“Becoming a demon isn’t something you can so easily do, either. Remembering my previous lives actually makes it harder for me. Even if it’s for you… I can’t justify ruining people’s lives in any way in this life.”

He exhales, grip on you tightening with every word you say, feeling as though if he doesn’t, then somehow, somehow, you’ll instantly disappear.

“... I know.”

He doesn’t bring up that topic again.

And if he leaves moments later, not returning until an hour later, appearing the same but feeling empty of everything inside, well. At least you don’t call him out on it.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

A few days before your contract ends, he’s visited by someone he didn’t think would see him.

“If you had a chance to save him,” he says. “Would you?”

Of course. If there’s anything that binds Jimin and him together, it’s you.

“I would.”

A heartbeat’s worth of moment passes- and then he replies.

“What are you willing to give up?”

“Everything.”

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

“YN!”

You cheekily wave at him from where you are, standing by the bed, outfit not the hospital gown but rather clothes for outside wear. Jimin stride over to you, features stiff as he almost-but-not-quite glares at you, or to be more specific at you standing and dressed to go out.

“I didn’t want to spend my last days on a hospital bed,” you explain before he can say anything, a forcefully lighthearted tone in your voice. You smile at him easily, pulling him down for a kiss- one that he easily returns, before grasping his hands in yours. “So. Accompany me, will you?”

Cold. Your body temperature has always been a little below than how normal humans should be, but in this moment it’s fallen even lower and Jimin can’t help but let his magic ease the discomfort you must be feeling. You hum in pleasure as you feel the pain in your body dull, no doubt because of Jimin.

“... Fine,” he sighs, before warning you. “But we aren’t doing anything strenuous.”

“I know,” you roll your eyes at him, before tugging on your interlocked hands. “Come on, we’re losing daylight.”

Where are we even going? He wants to ask, but it’s a futile question. After all, he’ll follow you wherever you decide to go, whether it be even heaven or hell.

With that thought in mind, he lets you lead.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

The destination in question turns out to be the Keukenhof gardens, the place you two intended to visit before the incident.

Although he originally didn’t want you to put too much pressure on your body, Jimin thinks, if only to himself, that maybe this trip is doing you more good than harm. Surrounded by the beautiful scenery, it seems as though you are at peace for once. The tension that seemed unnoticeable before has visibly melted away for both of you, leaving you both at peace.

“I remember you strolling in the imperial gardens.” The memory in question comes in a burst as he watches you walk around. The scene before him blurs. The present overlaps with the past vision of you in his mind- where you’re wearing brightly colored robes, followed by several attendants. Tulips on the ground are replaced by falling plum blossoms, and even the atmosphere is different.

What only remains the same is you and the gentle look on your face.

“I always found you having tea in the pavilion. That was the first place I looked to when I needed you, and I rarely failed to find you there.”

You laugh a little. “I always asked you to join me.”

“... Yes, you were the only one who could so easily ask me to take a break with you,” he murmurs. “No one else would even dare meet my eyes. They were always too afraid.”

“The memories keep coming back to me now.”

“Do they?” You ask him, swinging your linked hands a little. “Our lives keep changing, but if there’s anything that stays the same… I guess it’s this. I’m glad I got to do this at least once with you in this life too.”

“If it were up to me, we’d do this everyday.”

And then he feels you tug on him. He notices the way your breathing quickly becoming erratic, you starting to struggle even more just to breathe. It’s nothing that his magic can’t dull, the pain disappearing but the damage increasing.

This is the limit of what Jimin can do (he hates it, but you always look at him a grateful look on your face and he swallows back the words, knowing what your reaction would be).

After that, he carries you to one of the benches by the path. In the late afternoon, the sky is a brilliant shade of rose, sunlight gently bathing the sea of flowers with gold.

‘Just a little longer’, he thinks. Please.

“Hey, Jimin.”

“... You asked me before,” you suddenly speak up again, voice falling lower as if you’re sleepy. “If I was afraid to die.”

“Even after countless lifetimes, I’ve always been afraid to die,” you reveal. “But I was more afraid to die without seeing you at least once.”

“Were you happy, this past year?” He abruptly asks. The answer should be obvious- you’ve done so much just to find him, just to stay by him, so obviously you should, but he can’t help asking. Were you? Were you happy? Was he able to make you feel that the pain was worth it in any way?

Maybe it isn’t for you as much as it is for him. I’m sorry. The words are laced in every touch and he wonders if you can hear it.

You chuckle. “Of course I am.”

“... Jimin,” you call out his name again, when the silence drags him down to where his thoughts fester. He shivers- feeling your presence slowly wither away beside him, as you struggle to speak, your voice becoming more and more quiet. “Jimin...”

“Yes?”

“If there’s a life beyond this one, and the other one, and beyond… I’d still want to spend all of it with you.”

Jimin laughs, but it’s strange.

His voice… it really isn’t as smooth as it used to be. The trembling, choked up feeling in his throat- they turn his words into ones filled with tears. “Really, YN? That’s a promise then, alright? After all, I still haven’t paid you back for all the lifetimes I’ve caused you grief… I don’t think I ever will, no matter how much I try.”

He looks at you then- at your eyes that hold nothing but fondness in them, to the gentle slope of your lips, the smooth space between your eyebrows. Dipping his head low, he cups your face, pressing a kiss on your forehead. Your grip on him would be painful if there was any force behind it. As it is, he only grasps your hand in turn to make sure that at least you know you are together until the end.

A moment passes, and then another.

An evening breeze brushes by, making the trees sway, leaves falling down to the ground.

Jimin’s hands barely tremble as he closes your eyes for you.

Like this, it’s easy to pretend you’re just sleeping.

“... Goodnight, YN.”

Flower petals dance through the air, and Jimin thinks that is probably the send off that you would like. Surrounded by what you love.

He hopes that your smile carries on wherever you may go.

“I’ll meet you soon.”

Only the wind is there to hear him now, only the rising moon there to witness the tears that follow yet again.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

“Hic… hic…”

It’s the sound of something that draws him to the place hidden behind the playground. He’s not scared- no, really!- but the other kids are too busy playing, enough that they couldn’t hear him when he said he wanted to join, so they definitely wouldn’t notice if something interesting was happening somewhere!

He’s a big boy though, so he can wait until they’re done, whenever that is. In the meantime, he can hear something weird, and he’s curious, so he can go investigate that!

So he walks carefully to just the veeeeery edge of the sandbox, looking around and trying to find out where the noise is coming from.

When he looks through the bushes, it’s when he finds himself what’s making the noise.

“What the- hey, are you okay?”

It’s a crying boy.

For a moment, the two of them look at each other, surprised- before he awkwardly smiles at the other. When they don’t say anything, just staring at him, he patiently waits for them to say something. That’s what his mother always told him to do, after all.

“Are you okay?” He repeats. The other nods a little. “What happened? I heard this strange noise but you seem and sound like you were crying!”

At that, they begin to tear up again.

“... I-I got lost, and I can’t find my mommy or my daddy…”

“Oh,” he says, before smiling. “That’s okay! I’ll help you find them!”

“... Really?”

He grins, eyes turning into crescent moons as he holds out his hand for the other to take. “Yeah, really! I’m kinda new here, so my mom told me where to go if I’m ever lost! I can take you there!”

They hesitate, face sad, before they seem to decide- and they take his hand.

And in that moment, he feels something wet on his cheeks.

“... a-are you crying!? I’m sorry!”

“Um- no, it’s okay… I just got really happy for no reason!” He hastily wipes away the tears, feeling really happy and sad for some reason. “Um… sorry… um.”

“What’s your name? Do you want to be friends? You’re really cute!”

“H-Huh?” They blush. “... My name is YN. And you are?”

“It’s Jimin! From now on, we’re friends, okay?”

They smile, and his chest feels a little funny. A little warm too. Just- he’s really, really happy, more than he’s ever been!

“Sure!”

Behind them both, a feather falls onto the ground.

#bts x reader #bangtanhq #ficswithluv #bangtanfairygarden #bangtanscenery #park jimin x reader #jimin x reader #bts fic #bts scenario #jimin fic #jimin scenario #bts x male reader #park jimin x male reader

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zims-left-shoe · 4 years

Note

Can you do a Dib x Reader that’s into tarot cards and horoscopes? Also can make this AU a college AU? I know you said you write the characters up to high school but I was just wondering if you would. It’s fine you do them in high school.

Yeah! Just a warning, I’m not super experienced with tarot cards and everything, so apologies if a lot of it is inaccurate. I hope it’s still okay!!

The air was warm, and the sweet scents of pastries mingled with the sharp smell of coffee. The surrounding chatter of voices and calm music served as decent white noise. You lifted your drink to your lips, eyes drifting to the window next to you. Shades of grey painted the sky, muted tones growing ever darker as time ticked by. Outside, the air had a nasty nip to it, and you were not looking forward to stepping outside again. Plus, you were enjoying yourself in the moment. Your gaze was drawn back to the man across from you, his large glasses fogging slightly from the heat of his own drink.

You were more than delighted that he had asked you to come study with him at the coffee shop. Sure, you had wished he had the courage to bite the bullet and ask you on an actual date, but on a chilly winter afternoon a relaxing coffee hangout and study session was still enjoyable. Admittedly, you had developed feelings for the reserved cryptid fanatic who sat next to you in your cell biology class. That being said, you were ecstatic when he had quietly asked that morning if you would like to grab a coffee and study with him. Although you wished for a bit more, the current situation was completely fine by you.

"Have you been doing anything interesting lately?" Both of you had finished your work quite some time ago, spending the rest of the time talking to each other, a silence only settling for a brief minute or two before you continued the conversation. Sure, it was small talk, but the kind of talk that occurs between friends when they can sense their time together is drawing to a close, and that the hangout will end soon. The kind of talk when you aren't ready to leave each other's company, so you attempt to draw out the conversation with simple things.

"Oh, you know, only what every normal college kid does. Party hard, baby." The straight face he was attempting to hold fell apart almost immediately as he broke into a chuckle. "Nah. Just the usual, studying the paranormal. Aliens, ghosts, all that stuff." A smile spread on your face. Of course he was. You found his unique obsession with spooks and cryptids cute, and you were glad he had a passion in life. Even if that passion was restricted while he was away at school, he would still find ways to express himself. He was always scribbling supernatural doodles in the margins of his notes, monitoring the local cryptid stories constantly. "Sorry. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I'm just not that interesting."

"Please. Liking the paranormal is much more interesting than being a party animal whose only hobby is getting wasted." You paused, setting your cup down on the table. "I wouldn't be here otherwise. I'm only attrac-I mean, drawn, to people who are intriguing."

Nice save, stupid... You thought to yourself. At this point, you were unsure if you should just tell him how you felt. You were reasonably confident that he felt the same way, but he was just too damn nervous to ruin your friendship.

"Okay then, any secrets, or maybe embarrassing stories? Everyone has some. If you tell me one of yours, I'll tell you a story of mine." You bumped your bag that was resting underneath the table with your foot as you stared out at him, trying to pressure him into telling you something good. He always had the best stories. Especially when they were about aliens.

"My whole life is one embarrassing story after the other." He set his cup down as well, finding your eyes once more. "But, I guess one time I had my DNA fused with baloney." You laughed, believing him to be joking. You believed him a majority of the time, but that one was just so outlandish it couldn't possibly be true. "I'm not lying! Remember my stupid alien classmate? Well, he decided to get me back for throwing lunch meat in his face by making me sit on a tack that fused baloney DNA with my own." He was completely serious, so that left only two options: he was either completely insane or it was the truth. For the time you've known and befriended him, he seemed to have a good head on his shoulders, so what the hell. Why not believe him?

"I'm honestly not sure which part to ask for a follow up on, the alien classmate having baloney genetic makeup on the ready or being fused with sandwich meat." Brushing stray strands of hair from your face, you sighed, knowing that your story was in no way going to top that. "Mine isn't that exciting or embarrassing, but in high school, I charged for tarot readings in the bathrooms as a way to make some money. Well, I did until a teacher reported me for 'Satan worshipping'. Which, for starters is complete bullshit, but she was just jealous I made more money a week than she did." You smirked, remembering the look on her face when she confiscated your receipt book that you used to keep track of your profits.

"Wait, you used to read tarot cards?" Dib offered you his full attention, eyes filled with wonder. "I've always thought it was cool, but I just never really had gotten into it. Too busy saving the Earth from aliens and all that."

"I still do. You have your cryptids and space creatures, I have my tarot cards and horoscopes." To your amazement, Dib appeared to be enchanted by the subject. Then again, you supposed it was more or less something you could see him getting into.

"How did I not know that about you?" You shrugged in response to his words. It had just never came up in conversation. "Maybe we could hang out again soon and you could walk me through it?" He looked to be a bit apprehensive, almost as if you had already rejected the idea in his mind. You didn't even have to consider the idea. Not only did you harbor feelings for him, you would jump at the chance to show off your skills and interests.

"I would love to. My roommate has to work Friday night, maybe you could come to my dorm then?" A dorky grin spread across his face as he reached for his cup to drink the remaining coffee.

"It's a date, then." His face flushed as he realized his wording. "Not like that! As friends! You know what I mean." His fingers drummed on the tabletop, and you were sure he was sweating.

"I mean, unless...?" You made an overexaggerated thinking face, and after a moment, you both busted up laughing. However, you were of course only half joking.

(more under the cut)

Pushing open the door, you stepped into the room you had made your own. Kicking aside some shoes your roommate had left piled by the door, you let the man behind you inside.

"Sorry for the mess, I asked my roommate to clean up. They didn't."

"It's fine. You should see my dorm, it's definitely worse." Chuckling, you led him to your side of the room, which was a stark contrast from the other. Everything, for the most part anyway, was organized within bins, your desk nice and tidy despite having many trinkets and various things resting on the desktop. You had made a nice personal space under your bed, it was where you would often sit when you got tired of your desk or bed. Gesturing for him to take a seat on the floor under your bed, you went over to your desk, shuffling through one of your drawers until you felt your fingers close around your tarot deck.

"You have any questions before we start?" You hummed as you closed the drawer.

Dib's eyes were intently focused on you as he sat cross-legged underneath your bed. Finally, he spoke, albeit tentatively. "Just one, but it's kind of stupid."

"There are no stupid questions."

"Okay, in that case...does reading tarot cards like, open up your third eye and let you see ghosts and stuff?" Staring into his face revealed that he wasn't kidding. He was legitimately asking if you could see ghosts when you learned to read tarot cards.

"I changed my mind. There are stupid questions." Laughter slipped out as you sunk down the the floor across from him, tipping the box in your hands until the cards slid out. "Of course it does."

"Woah, really?" His cinnamon eyes sparkled with excitement, and yet again, a flurry of giggles escaped you.

"No, of course not. It doesn't make you see ghosts. It develops greater intuition and understanding." Dib let out a long breath, gaze falling to the floor as he picked at the chipping black polish on his nails, regretting he ever asked that question.

"Can we just forget I ever said that? Please?" You nodded as you separated the deck in your hands, shuffling them together. You did this many times over, the sharp sounds of cards coming together cutting through the stillness that had settled over the room. Dib stared at the cards in your hand, watching as you shuffled them with skill. He had lost track of how many times you had done so by the time you had stacked them together for the final time.

"So, is there anything specific you want to learn? I can't exactly teach you to read, since it takes a lot of practice and a deck you're comfortable with." As you looked to him expectantly, he appeared to be at a total loss for what to even ask for. "I could give you a simple reading just for fun."

"Sure! But, uh, how do they work?" A smile crept onto your face. You felt a warm glow of happiness at being able to share your interests with someone who was genuinely interested in learning about them.

"Well, if I were to do it by myself, I would shuffle them as I did now. It helps bring your energy to the cards, and therefore you will be more drawn to certain ones. Plus, you can better interpret them." You passed the deck to Dib. "If you can shuffle, shuffle them. Do it several times."

"Okay...what exactly are you reading for?" He began shuffling, although not as cleanly as you. A few times the cards had slipped from his grip, flying out in all directions. Every time that would happen, he gathered the cards and began to shuffle again as he listened to you.

"Well, we're just going to do a simple spread of three, but it can be for almost anything. Your past, present, and future, advice for obstacles, relationships, all of that stuff."

"Relationships?" Dib stacked the cards for a final time, handing them back to you. You took them, spreading them out in front of you, face down.

"Yeah, there's all different types of readings for relationships. Is that the simple spread you want?" He thought for a moment, a hint of a smile playing at his lips as he looked to you.

"I think so. You said there's different types of relationship readings, so just make an executive decision for me."

"That's not how this works." Your sigh was broken by a chuckle. "But fine. I'll do a spread where a card represents you, the other person, and the relationship." You found yourself wishing for a good outcome, thinking that he was most likely asking about the relationship he could possibly have with you, or at least that's what you were hoping for. "Pick three cards that you're drawn to and line them up across from you."

"Alright..." He stared at the arc of cards that was laid out in the space between you, deliberating, eyes carefully calculating. He brushed a finger across the glossy backs of the cards, finally deciding on two close to the middle, and one on the leftmost edge. He laid them out as you had asked, looking back to you expectantly. "Now what?"

"Now I give you your reading. I'll try my best to interpret the cards in the context of your life, but don't hold it against me if I'm not one hundred percent accurate." You flipped over the spread, the three cards facing up.

"Did I do good...?"

"It's not about making the right choices, it's about being drawn to the cards." You chided, looking at his spread. The cards that had been turned over were an upright Nine of Wands, a reversed Hanged Man, and an upright World. "Let's start with you." You pushed the card a little closer to him. It depicted a bandaged man leaning heavily on a wooden wand, surrounded by the other eight. "This is the Nine of Wands."

"Is it bad?" He looked curious, but there were concerned undertones in his expression.

"No, not necessarily. As a card, it represents courage, determination, and resilience. In the context of your part in the relationship, there may be or have been setbacks for you personally, but you have the strength to overcome those things. You might get hurt, or things may be tough and uncertain for you right now, but you will persist and get through it." A light blush dusted his cheeks as he nodded.

"Yeah, that sounds about right...does getting in your own way count as a setback?" Dib chuckled, running a hand through his dark hair.

"Sure. If I had to offer advice...no risk, no reward, right?" You both locked eyes for a moment, a hush falling over the room yet again. Again, this same, infuriating dance. You both were aware of how you felt. Yet neither would make a move.

"I suppose..." Dib actually seemed to be taking all of this into deep consideration. You couldn't help the hope that you felt rising in your chest.

"Alright, next...the other individual. This is the Hanged Man, but it's reversed." Again, you pushed the card forward. It depicted a man who was supposed to be hanging by the ankle from a tree, but from the direction it was turned, it appeared he was more standing upright.

"Are reversed cards bad?"

"They can be. The reversed Hanged Man for example generally means that the person is ready to go but is being held back. In context of the other person in your case, maybe they're ready to jump into a relationship but you might be holding them back by not taking a chance." Okay, so maybe that wasn't really a reading. You may have been guilty of inserting your own personal feelings into the reading, since you assumed the relationship in question was between yourself and Dib. You recognized the hint of irritation that was edging your words, so you drew in a deep breath, continuing on in a softer tone. "You know, like you said. You said your setback could be getting in your own way. You might be overthinking everything, which is restricting the other person from taking the next step."

"You think so?" Again, that damned knowing tone. When you looked into his eyes, you knew that he was aware of how you felt. And yet he still stopped himself every time from taking that leap. Was he waiting for you to make the first move? You hoped not. Sure, it may have been hypocritical, but you wanted no part in asking for a more romantic end to your friendship.

Clearing your throat, you decided to move to the last card of the spread. "The relationship itself. This card is the World." You held it up this time to show him, wishing to hold onto it. The card illustrated a naked woman in the middle of a wreath, surrounded by various animal heads. "Generally, it represents being in the right place, pausing before the next stage." Admittedly, that was not the reading you had desired. You didn't want to stay as only friends. "In context of the relationship, it could be interpreted as staying put, and just appreciating where the two of you are. There will be lots of options and pathways ahead and all that." You waved your hand dismissively, unable to fight off the exhaustion that was settling in. "So, anyway, that was your very basic reading." You stacked the cards together again, lazily patting the ground around you for the box.

"Is this stuff, like, certain advice?"

"You mean, do you have to take it? No, I suppose not. It's just suggestions and life advice based on interpretations."

Dib crawled his way over to sit by your side as you put your cards safely back in their box. You quirked an eyebrow, yet said nothing. "Okay, because I'm not too into that last one." Without tearing his eyes away from yours, his fingers brushed your own. He kept eyeing your face to confirm that what he was doing was alright. Always cautious, that one.

"I probably shouldn't give my input, since it's your life advice, but me either." A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as his fingers finally laced themselves with yours, his free hand drifting up to your face. His touch was light, so much so that you weren't even sure if it was there. In that moment, Dib was a walking contradiction, unsure of himself yet completely secure at the same time.

"But if you're reading the cards, aren't I asking for your input?" Slowly he leaned his face closer to yours, hand still resting on your cheek. Fitting, wasn't it? Everything the both of you had ever done was drug out to the maximum. Whether it was that you both enjoyed the frustration or you wanted to extend every moment you had together, you would never know. Nor did it matter. Especially not then.

"I suppose you are." You reached out a hand to run it through his hair, intertwining your fingers with the dark strands. "You're sure, then?" Each word that was spoken became progressively fainter. The entire time you spoke, his lips were barely a breath away from your own.

As if your words were the cue he needed to commit, he murmured a quick, "I think so." before finally closing the distance and pressing his lips softly against yours. He didn't need to speak for you to know that was all he had been dreaming of doing for a long while. It was obvious in the magical way he was moving his lips in time with your own, in the way delighted hums and mumbles would rise from his throat. In your opinion, there was something to be said about mouth-to-mouth communication. This was possibly the happiest you had ever seen him, you didn't need to be a master of intuition to interpret that. You felt him smile into the kiss, and you couldn't resist smiling along with him.

Dib finally pulled away after what felt like both an eternity and hardly any time at all. "You said it yourself. No risk, no reward." His grin was wide, and his eyes shone with joy behind his large glasses.

"Correct." Your hand fell from his hair to his coat, fingers playing with the fabric of the collar. "I usually charge for tarot readings, but for you, another kiss and consider your tab paid."

"Sounds fair enough to me." Leaning in once more, Dib planted yet another kiss on your lips. It was much quicker than the previous one, but after pulling back he proceeded to pepper several little kisses all over your face. Each was very light and brief, leaving your skin feeling tingly. His lips found your own once more, both hands tangling themselves in your hair. A simple tarot reading had somehow morphed into a very physical expression of feelings that had been pushed down for months. You wouldn't complain, though.

"Thank you for your payment." Your words were broke by giggles after you had parted.

"Of course." Dib's gaze drifted to the box of cards that was sitting off to the side, his smile never wavering. "You know, you should teach me how to read those."

"Only if you take me cryptid hunting."

"Deal." He laughed at the determined smirk on your face, wrapping his arms around you. You let him pull you into a hug, your arms snaking around him as if that was where they were always meant to be.

"So, can we safely consider ourselves ex-friends now? Because personally, I feel that we're much better off as lovers."

"Like I said before, I trust your input, it's what I asked for."

"So, lovers it is?"

"Lovers it is." Dib's voice was pleasant as you snickered into his chest, more than pleased with how the day had went. You sensed that he would agree with that notion.

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