#yes he is surrounded by an aura of tragedy

[infinite-orangepeel]

petition for steve harrington to be in intensive therapy for s5 <3

[la-pheacienne]

I will never understand people insisting that it was Jaime's fault Elia and the children died and that he didn't do his job. I don't understand why people cannot acknowledge that the multitude and diversity of factors working simultaneously and opposite to each other is precisely what creates the tragedy of the event(s), these factors being slowly morphed into a mechanism functining on its own accord, beyond any power individual decisions could have. Every single individual in this tragedy (the sack and the rebellion in general) had entirely different motivations and aspirations, and no individual had the full picture at any occasion whatsoever, and this is precisely because of the broader mechanism that was in motion that I mentioned above. And there lies the whole point, the concept of not knowing, not being able to know in advance. The idea of actions, choices, decisions having unexpected consequences that a character could not be able to imagine in advance. Things could have been different if at any point any of the individuals implicated in this event(s) knew the whole picture, or at worst, if they were more careful, more diligent, if they had made a better assessment of the situation at hand. I don't believe what happened was technically inevitable of course. It could have been avoided, which is something that amplifies the tragedy. Of course the individual decisions of any of the factors involved shaped the result. But we need to take into account all these parameters that were at play leading to each and every decision, prior to the decision itself, in order to avoid a bad faith reading of the text. We know everything that happened. The individuals did not know what would happen prior to making the decisions they made.

Rhaegar running away with Lyanna seems suspicious in general and there is definitely a lot of info missing there (which has been confirmed by grrm, meaning there was probably a reason they run away together - and i'm NOT talking about the braindead fanon theory of rhaegar collecting dragon heads like pokemons). Aside from that big hole of info we don't have that would give a solid context for this otherwise pretty inexplicable action, R and L could not have expected in advance that the events would play out in the way they did, they could not know in advance that someone (Baelish?) would spread the news of a literal kidnapping, they could not know in advance what Brandon would do, what Aerys would do, and so forth, and we don't even know when exactly they found out that all these things happened since they were isolated. They for sure could absolutely not know that Tywin, who didn't even take part in the rebellion, would eventually think it would be a great idea to randomnly order the rape and murder of Elia and the murder of the children. Nobody could ever imagine that in their right minds, yes, not-even-jaime-hello, which is precisely why this is an act of TREASON (and treason is an understatement), which is precisely why that act has such an impact and such an aura of horror and shock surrounding it, because of how unexpected and inconceivable it was, and also, how unneccessary it was, at a moment where the war was already won.

The power Rhaegar had in changing these events in any way shape or form was minimal to none, faced with the mad king that could go off the rails at any moment, the treason, the unprecedented cruelty of his enemies that were supposed to be allies, and more than that, the general mechanism already in motion leading to this tragic outcome.

Which leads me to Jaime. Jaime feels guilty for what happeend to Elia and her children, of course he does. He was there, in KL, he was sitting on the iron throne (i think that's when it happened) while the events took place and he didn't prevent them. I would also feel guilty if I were him. Who wouldn't? He was there. If he had thought this through, if he was more diligent, smarter, quicker idk, more perceptive maybe he would have figured this out sooner, maybe he would have done something, maybe he would have been able to save them. That's undoubtedly what he tells himself. Rhaegar would undoubtedly feel extreme guilt if he was alive after the sack of KL (which is a mere hypothesis since the sack of KL wouldn't have taken place had he been alive). Hell, even Ned feelts guilty for what happened to Elia and her children. That doesn't mean these people (i'm talking mainly about R and J) are actually responsible for what happened. That it is their fault that it happened. That they willingly wanted it to happen, or expected it to happen and didn't care, or let it happen in Jaime's case. Jaime's guilt stems from an error of judgement at worst, the fact that had he known every single parameter at play, had he imagined the exact motivations and intentions of a multitude of people and how far they were willing to go, had he expected what would happen in detail, he would have acted differently and maybe, maybe the result would have been different. That's not even certain, given, again, the multitude of factors at play that were beyond Jaime's power. But Jaime of course cannot help but think about the what if. The result could have been different had Jaime acted differently but Jaime acted according to the specific situation he had at hand, according to the specific problem that he had to face. He did what he thought was right in that precise moment. He didn't and couldn't possibly know what was going on outside from his sphere and if he did, we do not know for sure that he could have actually prevented the worst from happenning.

And I'm being exceptionally strict here by attributing an error of judgement to Jaime because I could have just said he was entirely innocent for what happened to Elia and the children, and it wouldn't be false. Again, error of judgement doesn't equal responsibility for what happened, it doesn't equal "moral flaw". An error of judgement does not give the reader a reason to morally judge a character. It is an entirely different thing.

I got this from Britannica :

I don't get how people can be so dense when reading anything related to the sack of KL and/or Robert's Rebellion in general. "Jaime didn't do his job", "Rhaegar led Elia and their children to their deaths" like, can you actually read? I was unnecessarily thorough here for something that is not all that complicated. It is pretty straightforward actually. It's sad that people do not get it. Like, I see BNFs being all deep and analytical about Jaime's moral struggles and dilemmas and overall tragedy and how he was in a situation that exceeded him and then they're like "rhaegar is the reason elia and the children died". From the other side I see people saying that Rhaegar couldn't have known what would happen and then they're like "Jaime didn't do his job!!!", guys. Guys. I'm begging you. I IMPLORE YOU : correcting a mischaracterization (Rhaegar was stupid/selfish for leaving """""all that responsibility""""" to Jaime) with another mischaracterization (Jaime "didn't do his job" because he's a moral coward) is not the way to go, it is done in bad faith, it erases the entire point of Robert's Rebellion along with a bunch of very important themes in asoiaf (the impossibility of choice, the fact that moral codes are actually a construct and don't always apply/sometimes contradict, and the feeling of powerlessness of an individual when faced with a monstrous mechanism, a system that is beyond their control).

[starblue2406]

Mini-hell Questionnaire VI

This is undoubtedly one of my favorite questionnaires, Abraham's answers were very... Curious, particular and very remarkable. Below is my cousin Abraham's questionnaire:

1.- Favorite character(s) and because : Marcus god. The truth is his character development is god, he has a lot of charisma and the expressions he showed in the comic were god.

2.-Least Favorite Character: Arceus, for fuck's sake since his actions and gestures piss me off. He's lucky he's part of the side of good, though his decision to exterminate humanity leads him to be a temper tantrum villain. I mean, he decided to annihilate an entire race just because a single human betrayed him even though it is made clear that he lowered himself to his level to be with Damos and after the "tragedies" now he thought he was God and with a lot of authority to decide that, I find it extremely unfair and irritating from his side.

3.-Favorite Moment: The hot scenes 7w7

4.-Least Favorite Moment:All the scenes where Arceus is a pretentious fucker who thinks he's a big shot.

5.-Ask Star! (Ask me any question):What were you thinking when you paired Damos and Arceus?

6.-Favorite chapter: 3 and 5, long live love.

7.-Least favorite chapter: 6 and 7 (fuck your mother Rebeca).

8.- Theory:Damos, comes back from the dead, but without any time travel and all that.

9.-Mistery favorite: How big is the (...) of Arceus? XD

(You know what he is referring to, he is not talking about his height).

10.- And how plus exclusive for comic book people:Final you would like to see:

Ok, if you ask for it *gets ready to dictate*.

Get back together again.

Abraham, I need more details, you can't just leave it at that.

Are you sure, Rebeca?

Yes, everyone has put at least something to their desired end.

Ok, if you ask for it *gets ready to dictate*.

(From this point on, they won't know what to say).

Let Damos come back from the dead, fix the misunderstanding, let them both resume their relationship and JUST when they give each other the final kiss (for this I've been preparing my whole life with my grandmother XD) the still scene should slowly darken to total black and you should hear "You're right, this is very cool".

A few moments later appear Damos with a white background to break the fourth wall and tell the moral of the story.

(Here there is no turning back with this ending).

Finally, let Marcus will gradually fade away surrounded by a white aura and that aura will be directed towards the sky with a peaceful smile, for he is THE ROSE OF MARCUS.

Seconds after the credits, a Headshowder commercial, a Lala milk commercial, a commercial for another soap opera or the new episode of the soap opera "Cómo dice el dicho", so that at 3 in the afternoon Peppa pig comes out >:D.

I have no words for this ending, I can only say that nobody would complain about this ending, absolutely NOBODY XD.

[translations-by-aiimee]

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 11

Original Title:  二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 11 - This Venerable One Wants His Family to be Happy

"Yes, it's me!" Madam Chen sobbed, "But I didn't write this spiritual tablet! How could I curse my child? I—"

"You wouldn't have written it while you were awake, but not necessarily while you were asleep."

Chu Wanning said. He raised his hand, picked up the spiritual tablet, spiritual energy pouring out of his palm. Suddenly, a distant and piercing scream erupted from the spiritual tablet, followed by a stream of blood gurgling out of it.

The sharp gleam in Chu Wanning's eyes was bitterly cold, and he harshly said: "The arrogance of this creature; it dares to make trouble!"

Because of the great spiritual power in his palm, the writing on the tablet was forced to retreat little by little amid the screams, becoming fainter until it finally disappeared completely. Chu Wanning's slender and cold white fingers clenched and the whole tablet shattered!!

The Chen family looked stunned from behind him. Not just the Chen family, even Shi Mei was stunned.

He couldn't help sighing: "That's amazing."

Mo Ran also couldn't help but sigh inside; he really was so powerful.

Chu Waning turned his handsome and clear face sideways. There was no expression on his face, only a few spots of blood splashed on the side of his cheek. He raised his hand and carefully examined the bloodstains remaining on his fingertips. He said to the Chen family: "All of you will stay in the courtyard today, don't go anywhere."

At this point, none of them dared disobey and they quickly agreed: "Okay! Okay! Whatever you say!"

Chu Wanning strode out of the temple, unconcerned with wiping away the blood on his face. He gestured at Madam Chen: "Especially you, don't fall asleep. To keep that thing out of your body, even if you get tired, you need to stay awake."

"Yes. . . yes yes!" Madam Chen replied repeatedly. With tears in her tears, she asked in disbelief, "Daoist Master, my son. . . is. . . is he alright?"

"He's fine for now."

Madam Chen was startled: "For now? Not always? Then, how can I save my son's life?"

Chu Wanning said: "Catch the demon."

Mrs. Chen was very anxious and couldn't help but be a little rude. She couldn't care less about being polite and asked urgently: "When does the Daoist master plan to catch it?"

"Immediately."

Chu Wanning said. He glanced at the Chen family and asked: "Who knows where the red coffin was dug? Come and lead the way."

The eldest son’s daughter-in-law was named Yao. Even though she was a woman, she was tall and looked somewhat good-looking Although her face was filled with fear, she was calmer than the others. She spoke up: "My late husband and I picked out the land. I know the location. I'll lead you there."

The three of them followed Chen Yao all the way north and soon arrived at the land the Chen family had bought.

Martial law had been set up there, and there are no one around. The dark hills were overgrown with trees, not a single sound of insects or birds singing.

Climbing up the mountainside, the view widened over the scene. Chen Yao said: "The three Daoist masters are here."

The place where the red coffin was dug out still had a tombstone stuck over it. Mo Ran laughed: "What's this broken stone supposed to be used for? It looks like an amateur put it there. Move it."

Chen Yao was a little flustered: "The gentleman in the town said that the evil creature is being suppressed by it and can't get out."

Mo Ran chuckled: "He must be really capable."

". . ." Chen Yao said, "Move, move, move!"

Chu Wanning remarked icily: "No need." After he said that, he raised his hand, and golden light glowed from his fingertips. Tianwen listened to his command and appeared in his palm. As soon as he flicked the willow vine, the headstone instantly shattered into pieces! Chu Wanning walked over expressionlessly. He stood on the pile of ruins, raised his palm again, and said in a deep voice: "What are you doing hiding in there? Get up!"

There was a strange noise underneath the earth, and suddenly, a 12-foot-high thick wooden coffin broke out of the ground. The sand and mud rained down and dust was flying everywhere.

Shi Mei exclaimed in surprise: "This coffin is surrounded by such evil energy!"

Chu Wanning said: "Stand back."

After that, with a backhand draw, Tianwen slashed across the welded red coffin. Golden sparks shot in all directions. After a few moments of silence, the coffin lid exploded with a bang. The billowing smoke dispersed and the thing inside it was revealed.

Lying in the coffin was a naked man with a straight nose and a handsome face. If it weren't for his pale skin, he would look like he was simply sleeping.

Mo Ran's eyes flicked down to what was under the man's waist: covering his eyes and said: "Oh, don't wear skimpy pants, you skunk."

Shi Mei: ". . ."

Chu Wanning: ". . ."

Chen Yao cried out: "Husband!" She moved forward to rush towards the coffin. Chu Wanning stretched out his hand to stop her. He raised an eyebrow and asked: "This is your husband?"

"Yes! It's my husband!" Chen Yao was devastated. "Why would he be here? He was already buried in the ancestral grave. He was also wearing much nicer funeral clothes. How could he. . ."

Halfway through speaking, the woman began to weep, pounding her chest, "How could this happen! How tragic - so awful! Husband. . . Husband!!"

Shi Mei sighed: "Madam Chen, please keep it together."

Chu Wanning and Mo Ran didn't pay attention to the crying woman. Chu Wanning was not good at comforting people, while Mo Burning was totally compassionless. They stared at the body in the coffin.

Since Mo Ran had lived through this in a previous life, nothing unfolding was a surprise to him, but he still needed to put on an appearance, so he touched his chin thoughtfully: "Shizun, something's wrong with the corpse."

Chu Wanning: "I know."

". . ."

What he had said was exactly what Chu Wanning had said during this conversation in his previous life. In this life, he wanted to use it to shock Chu Wanning. He did well, and yet he only threw out a simple "I know" as a result.

Shouldn't a shizun encourage his disciple to speak his mind and give him praise and reward??

Mo Ran pretended that he hadn't heard him say "I know", and continued: "This corpse has no signs of decay. It's been more than half a month since the accident. Based on the current climate, it should have festered and rotted. A layer of fluids should have built up in the coffin. That's the first strange thing."

Chu Wanning gave him a cold glare with a look of "Are you done fooling around?": ". . ."

"Secondly." Mo Ran was unmoved, continuing to recite Chu Wanning's words from the previous life to solve the puzzle. "Before the coffin was opened, the evil energy around the red coffin was dense, but after it was opened, it dissipated. And there's a minimal evil aura around the corpse, which is also very abnormal."

Chu Wanning: ". . ."

"Thirdly, did you find that from the moment the coffin was opened, there was a sweet smell in the air?"

The scent was so delicate, if you don't pay attention, you wouldn't notice it at all. When Mo Ran pointed it out, Shi Mei and Chen Yao realized that there really was a faint sweetness in the air.

Shi Mei: "Indeed."

Chen Yao's face changed when she smelled it, "This scent. . ."

Shi Mei: "Madam Chen, what's the matter?"

Chen Yao’s scared voice changed: "This scent is my mother-in-law's hundred butterfly fragrance powder!"

No one spoke for a while. The prophetic sign in the ancestral hall that read "Master Yang, Chen Sunshi" appeared in front of him again.

Shi Mei asked: ". . . Could Madam Chen really have done this?"

Mo Ran: "It doesn't look like that."

Chu Wanning: "No."

The two spoke almost at the same time and glanced at each other after speaking. Chu Wanning's face didn't waver: "You speak."

Mo Ran said nonchalantly: "As far as I know, the Chen family made a fortune and relied on the old lady's hundred butterfly fragrance powder. Although the powder's formula is a secret, the finished product isn't difficult to get. Five or six of ten girls in Caidie Town use this fragrance. Not only that, but we investigated before we came here. Mr. Chen himself seems to like his mother's butterfly fragrance powder very much, and he often mixes it in his bathwater so it’s not strange that he has this smell on his body, the strange thing is. . ."

He said, turning his head again to the naked man in the coffin.

"This person has been dead for half a month, and this fragrance smells like it was just applied. Am I right, Shizun?"

Chu Wanning: ". . ."

"Just praise me if I'm right."

Chu Wanning: "Mmm."

Mo Ran laughed: "What a waste of words."

He didn't have a chance to laugh again. Suddenly, his robe flew to the side, Chu Wanning pulled him back a few feet, the golden light of Tianwen in his hand was shining, dancing like flames.

"Watch out."

The smell of the butterfly fragrance powder in the air suddenly grew stronger. As the scent drifted away, a white mist appeared between the grass and trees, which began to diffuse at an alarming speed. Instantly, it turned the entire mountainside into a sea of ​​mist, and all of a sudden, he couldn't even see the hand in front of his face!

Mo Ran's heart lurched.

An illusionary world appeared.

"Ah!!!" In the thick fog, the first thing that rang out was Chen Yao's screams, "Daoist Master, help—"

Before she finished the last word, everything went silent.

Chu Wanning's fingertips lit up with a blue gleam, and he slapped a tracking spell onto Mo Ran's forehead: "Be careful, I'll check it out."

After he spoke, he followed the voice and quickly disappeared into the thick fog.

Mo Ran touched his forehead and chuckled in a low voice: "Well, even the position of the spell is exactly the same as in my previous life. Chu Wanning, you really haven't changed a bit."

The fog came quickly and dispersed just as fast. It didn't take long for the fog to disappear without a trace. However, the scene in front of him was even more surprising than the fog. Mo Ran was really shocked, at least he was in his last life.

After the fog cleared, the originally desolate and overgrown mountainside had disappeared.

Instead, there was a vast and elegant garden, pavilions, waterfalls, curved corridors, rocky gardens and jade trees, and pebble paths as far as the eye could see.

Mo Ran took a look at the surroundings and immediately wanted to roll around in joy.

This rogue hooligan spent all day thinking about this illusion. In his previous life, they were similarly lost in it. First, Mo Ran ran into Shi Mei, and under the compulsion of the illusion, he kissed the other for the first and only time in his life.

It's a pity that Shi Mei was terribly frightened when it happened. He let go of Mo Ran, turned and ran away. He wasn't given the chance to take a second bite of the swan before it was taken off his plate, which was really unfortunate.

After the illusion was broken, Shi Mei never brought it up. The kiss in the illusion was treated as if it hadn't happened, and no one mentioned it again. Sometimes when he dreamt at night, Mo Ran wondered if he was obsessing too deeply over something he imagined.

But whether he imagined it or not, Mo Ran licked his lips. He thought this time he definitely wouldn't let Shi Mei run away from him that easy! One kiss wasn't enough!

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

[thehomothings]

Analysis of Kite's conflicting moralities, relationship with death, and the toll reincarnation may take on one's psyche

So, today I decided to compile all the thoughts I have had about Kite's interesting worldview since the first time I saw him into one post, mostly for my own sake, really. If you're familiar with the few posts I've made, you know it's gonna be a mess, but hopefully a comprehensible mess.

A heads up, this is going to be spoiler-heavy, and very much deal with subjects of death and dying as a whole. Also, some of these conclusions are drawn from my own experiences and close brushes with death, I'm not going to go into much detail but it might get personal and definitely dark. I'm not even sure if I can call this a meta-analysis, and I'm obviously no expert, so mayhaps take all of this with a grain of salt.

Been getting into drawing lately, and during the more simple and mindless part of the painstaking process of dotting every single star in this, I let my thoughts wander through the latest part of the fic I'm writing, and I got a better grasp on what exactly made Kite such an elusive character to me.

I'm not quite sure why I got so attached to Kite. Perhaps it was the air of tragedy surrounding him, how despite his sordid past he remained still open and gentle even if outlined by a healthy dose of cynicism.

But sometimes, I think it's the fact that he is so paradoxical. He's brave, yet fears death to such a degree that creates a whole Nen ability around it, is a pacifist yet will not hesitate to spill blood for his own sake or someone else's. Despite the many ultimatums and warnings of 'I will not protect you', he gave his arm and then his life to save Gon and Killua. He approaches each hunt and battle with a clear plan of action in mind, but his Hatsu takes the form of a roulette that gives him random weapons which are never what he wants, but what he seems to need for that exact situation, which he cannot dispel without using. When he draws a weapon, the decision is locked in and his or his opponent's fate is sealed. That's why each time he dubbs his weapon a bad roll. Every time he has to gamble, he sees himself as having run out of luck. When it comes to having to choose between himself and somebody else...well, there had never been a choice. In fact his aversion to using it may feed into its sheer power that we, unfortunately, saw too little of.

Let's go over his very first appearance when he saves Gon from the mother Foxbear.

It's not hard to see the strain searching for Ging has put on him; he's rash, prone to anger and punching a child for daring to get into trouble. In his mind, he's failing at his most important task, has not yet earned the right to call himself a hunter despite being in possession of his very own hunter license.

After killing the mother Foxbear and raging about having done so, he says this interesting line:

So yes, he finds killing for any reason rather irksome as most would do, yet I think something deeper caused him to absolutely lose it in this scene:

He had not been aware of Gon's identity, and despite being an animal lover and a naturalist, he made a choice to save the human instead of allowing nature to run its course. In fact, he says: 'No beast that harms a human must be allowed to live.'

How does one weight one life against another? How is the worth of it determined? The value of life... an impossible choice he's faced with and a choice which he seems to regret to some degree.

The Foxbear cub.

Here, he's speaking from experience, a tangible loss he has felt himself, and a hard and bitter life he does not want to impose on the cub.

His backstory is exclusive to the 2011 anime adaptation but there are hints alluding to it in the manga, for example, the fact that he does not seem to know his birthplace, or:

The choice of words is chilling.

Reading between the lines, one could draw the conclusion that he is an orphan. Something supporting this hypothesis is how he visibly deflates after Gon tells him his parents have (presumably) died.

So we see he is willing to go against his own moral code of not killing as to not doom another living being to the life he led, a lonely, hopeless existence that could barely be called one. He saw it best to put down the cub rather than leave it to die a painful, slow death.

The reason Kite himself isn't as cynical and cold-hearted as one would be after witnessing cruelty in its rawest form is those small crumbs of human kindness which he may have found in Ging.

It was not only a chance at an honorable life being Ging's apprentice gave him, but it also 'saved' him from being broken and twisted into what he hated and worst of all, death.

If we take that one minute of backstory as canon to his character-which I find myself inclined to do- these quirks of his make much more sense. He lived on the run. He lived on the knife's edge between giving up or pushing forwards. He lived as so a wrong move could be the difference between survival and the end.

Between rock and a hard place creates a mentality of black and white, absolute good or extreme evil, this or that. Except in reality, it's much harder than that. Deciding who to save and who to strike down is a heavy burden to bear.

It's almost easy to see how struggling to keep surviving could lend itself to a crippling fear of death and subsequently developing a Nen ability which once more goes against his own moral code in order to give himself a second chance...yet something about it strikes me as unlikely when I look at it this way.

Living life knowing it could end at any moment has the opposite effect, at least for me it did. One comes to accept that it is fleeting and while not eager to let it go, when death eventually and inevitably does come, there is no fighting it.

Especially when there is no hope that tomorrow will be a better day than this one.

Frequent near-death experiences numb one's fear in a way, even if it drives them to take precautions that render it unlikely to happen again and results in c-PTSD, but still, it does. It sparks a certain nihilistic view of 'if it all can end so easily, then what's the point of it all?'

Unless there are things to live for, a sure promise of a better future, and Ging gave Kite that. When he faced the threat of losing his second chance at life:

Really, what else could lead someone to develop the ability of 'the hell I'm going to die like this'?

I think a separate event, an even more brutal near-death experience that almost cost him his life as the hunter he so strived to be set him off to develop the secret roll of Crazy Slots, what I call Roll No.0, Ars moriendi. Unlike other weapons, it cannot come up in random and is directly summoned by him, or better said, summon by his overwhelming will to keep going and hopelessness of fighting a losing battle. I don't believe roll No.3 was the weapon that allowed him to reincarnate. I've named that one Wand of Fortune, a sort of armor instead of an offensive weapon since I find it hard to believe Kite, a Conjurer, would not focus on defences as well, and I will go into both mechanisms of these weapons hopefully in his backstory.

Despite knowing this battle to be a pointless one and being acutely aware of his soon to be demise, he did not immediately draw Ars moriendi, no, he stayed back and fought for the sake of the boys, kept Neferpitou occupied until they could reach safety. We can see evidence of this in the aftermath of the battle that seemed to have gone on until dawn, a torn apart landscape only signaling a fraction of the devastation that was Kite's power unleashed. It still wasn't enough.

In the anime sub I watched, when Gon apologizes to Ging about Kite's death, Ging said a sentence that infuriated me, because it belittled the utter suffering of the NGL trio.

"He would not die in your place." (No screenshot, sorry)

And I remember practically shouting at the screen, screaming 'how could you possibly say that? Of course he did. He absolutely did die in their place. How could you not know your own apprentice? Why-'

It was only last night that it hit me why Ging would say that.

Once upon a time, maybe Kite would not have given his life for anybody under any circumstances, even if he had a way out of it all. He would still need to die to come back to life.

His Thanatophobia could be attributed to the (possibly untreated) PTSD of the near-death experience in his later life, being so certain of dying that finding himself alive afterwards drove him to never want to go through that again. He quieted his fear by creating a sort of a loophole, that even if he lost the battle he would remain. Ging remembered that, but as evidence shows, something changed. Maybe he healed a bit, perhaps growing up dulled his fear to a certain degree, but eventually when it came down to his life or another's, he didn't choose himself.

Now, I can hear you saying 'but he didn't die, so what are you going on about??' And so I reply: Yes, he is alive, but he did die. He experienced that painful, horrible moment of staring death in the eyes and thinking 'This is it, this is the end', went through the actual process of having his soul removed from his body. And that moment stretches into infinity, ten lifetimes condensed into the mere seconds before oblivion.

Dying isn't so hard if one stays dead.

It's not so easy to open one's eyes and find oneself alive again after that, no matter how much that is the heart's desire. It's difficult, nigh-impossible to reconcile with life and walk amongst the living when everything had been so final, when death had been accepted to its fullest.

So Kite awakens, the twin of Meruem and back from the dead, his mind and identity both intact and fractured. In that he is Kite is no mistaking, yet he is not the same gentle pacifist whose first reaction upon sensing a monster's aura was to shield two kids from it at the cost of his arm.

I don't think many of you are familiar with Zoroastrian ideology, but Togashi is known for loving his religious imagery, and it's not only Christianism he derives inspiration from (evidence of which can be seen all over Kite's character and resurrection).

In Zurvanism-a branch of Zoroastrianism- there is talk of the twin spirits: Ahura Mazda -epitome of all that is good- and Ahriman -epitome of all that is evil-, the parent god Zurvin decides that the firstborn may rule in order to bring "heaven, hell, and everything in between."

Upon becoming aware of this fact, Ahriman forcibly tears through the womb to emerge first. Sounding familiar yet?

Zurvan relents to this turn of events only on one condition: Ahriman is given kingship for 9000 years, and then Ahura Mazda may rule for eternity.

Meruem ruled for 40 days, his death leaving the throne vacant for ant Kite, wearing a dead girl's face and seeming to be brewing some nefarious plan. No more is there any sign of that unrelenting pacifism and the sanctity of life he held so high, losing his own may have only served to show him how meaningless the pain and suffering he went through had been, dying only to be reborn as a member of the species that killed him. It may be that he has no desire to rule over the remaining Chimera ants or create an army of his own-

Yet I dread to think what a broken mind possessing limitless power might do to the world.

And that's it. If you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you found it interesting, stay tuned, as I think a lot and I will make it your problem.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Tedious Joys - Chapter 6 -

- Ao3 link -

The jade pendant Lan Qiren had worked so hard on had not stopped burning painfully hot since what he now knew was the day Jiwei had been shattered. It retroactively made perfect sense why his music could do nothing to calm the flames no matter how soothing; the pendant was so hot as to be dangerous even to him, a cultivator in his prime – even if not the most martially inclined – and in all honesty he had not dared to wear it since that day.

Despite this, he hung it on his belt before leaving the Cloud Recesses, ignoring the discomfort.

If Lao Nie did not recognize his sons, which he prized more than the stars in the sky, more than his own life, he would not recognize Lan Qiren no matter how good friends they were. Lan Qiren knew better than to flatter himself in that way. He was confident in Lao Nie’s affection, in his trust and even his love; he had never once doubted that when given a choice, Lao Nie would pick him over Wen Ruohan every time, no matter how often the latter shared Lao Nie’s bed – but Lao Nie was not himself right now, incapable of making rational decisions.

Lao Nie had raised his own hand against those he loved, something he would in the normal course of events never do. Lan Qiren would likely share the same fate as Nie Mingjue, only with even less power to defend himself – he had only music and wise words and inferior swordsmanship on his side, and of those, only his music had even half a chance of stopping a maddened charge.

He would need every advantage he could get, and the jade pendant, he hoped, would provide one.

Lan Qiren left the Cloud Recesses with his guqin over his back, his sword beneath his feet, and the jade pendant burning into his thigh, Nie Mingjue at his side. He hoped that Lao Nie might be able to draw some comfort from the jade pendant, which had been tuned to Jiwei’s frequency; he hoped that he could calm Lao Nie’s wrecked mind with his playing the way he had once sought to calm Jiwei’s rage.

And if neither of those worked…there was still his sword.

To the best of his ability, he would not allow Nie Mingjue to be harmed.

Lao Nie would have agreed, if he could.

When they arrived at the Unclean Realm, both Lan Qiren and Nie Mingjue were exhausted from their trip; even with regular breaks, it was not an easy journey to make by sword, much less twice over, with several days or even a week or more of travel being more customary. Lan Qiren had insisted that they rest for a few shichen in a town just outside of the borders of the Qinghe Nie sect to recover even more of their strength, and tellingly Nie Mingjue had not disagreed.

The Unclean Realm towered over them both as they approached, and to Lan Qiren’s eyes it somehow seemed more intimidating and imposing than that familiar, beloved place usually was – it was as if the tragedy within its walls had tainted it, giving it a more sinister aura than usual.

The guards of the Nie sect were unhappy to see Lan Qiren, as he’d suspected they would be, but they could not override Nie Mingjue, who ordered them to let Lan Qiren enter. A Nie disciple, older even than Lan Qiren but with exhaustion and fear written into every line of him, met them by the entrance, telling them that the Sect Leader was in his study – and that he was asking for them, or at least for Nie Mingjue.

“How is he?” Nie Mingjue asked, and glanced sidelong at Lan Qiren, explaining, “There are times when it is worse, times when it is better and he’s almost himself…”

“Forgive this humble one,” the disciple said, sounding tired. “The Sect Leader’s state is not good. He believes himself to be surrounded by enemies, besieged and betrayed. He believes we have taken you away from him purposefully, Nie-gongzi, and he fears for your well-being.”

Nie Mingjue’s face crumpled. “And when he sees me, he’ll think I’m one of the ones hurting him.”

“It is not your fault,” Lan Qiren told him in an undertone as they walked towards to the study. “He’s been infected with the saber spirit’s rage, becoming unbalanced – not just unbalanced, but unable to find himself. Just like a saber, he sees everything around him as a target, and seeks their destruction.”

Nie Mingjue’s head dropped in a nod. “Baxia’s just the same. She longs to eradicate evil, but her definition of evil is – wider than it should be.”

“We are all made of good and evil,” Lan Qiren agreed. “Right now, Lao Nie can only see the evil, not the good. That’s why he can’t recognize you. He loves you too much.”

Nie Mingjue nodded again and stopped in front of the study, taking a deep breath. Even through its soundproofed doors, they could hear the faint echoes of Lao Nie’s voice, bellowing out demands and threats, calling for Nie Mingjue, calling for Jiwei – my saber, my saber, where is my saber? – and Lan Qiren flinched briefly before recovering himself.

“Go,” he said, and Nie Mingjue opened the door and let them both step in.

Lao Nie was standing by the window, his hands clenched into fists, his knuckles bloody from having beaten his fists against the walls in his rage. His back was straight and his shoulders broad, as always, but there was a strange purposelessness to the way his head turned from side to side as if he were trying to hear something just out of range.

He turned to look at them. His hair wasn’t arranged properly, oily as if he hadn’t washed it for a while; his eyes were red and bloodshot, his skin flushed and ruddy, raised veins on his forehead, making him look as if he were on the verge of exploding.

“What do you want?” he spat.

“You called for me, A-die,” Nie Mingjue said, taking a step into the room and then another as Lan Qiren watched. “It’s me – it’s me, it’s Mingjue. A-Jue, I’m A-Jue –”

Lan Qiren never saw Lao Nie move.

One moment he was all the way across the room, the next moment he was standing right in front of Nie Mingjue. There was the resounding echo of a slap: Lao Nie had backhanded Nie Mingjue, knocking him to the floor. “Don’t lie to me,” he snarled, his reddened eyes blank and unseeing. “If you’re my A-Jue, why haven’t you done what I asked, like a filial son should? Bring me my saber! Bring me my Jiwei!”

“A-die – please – she’s gone, Jiwei is gone –”

Lao Nie raised his hand again, clearly ready to strike again, already pulling his leg back to kick at the young man cowering at his feet, a red mark already staining Nie Mingjue’s cheek where the heavy blow from before had fallen – Lan Qiren hadn’t been in the Unclean Realm for enough time to burn a stick of incense, hadn’t even had a chance to say anything, and things had already gotten to this point.

Wait, the doctors had said to Nie Mingjue when he’d asked them what could be done about his father’s illness. Wait. How terrible would Nie Mingjue’s life have become if he had listened to them?

“Lao Nie,” he said, stepping into the room and already reaching for his guqin. “Don’t hit him.”

Lao Nie turned to him, a heavy scowl on his face, and Lan Qiren braced himself for that same speed, that same casual viciousness that Lao Nie had before used only on his real enemies.

But unexpectedly - Lao Nie did not attack.

He didn’t move at all, in fact; he just stared at Lan Qiren, his frown fading into something like confusion.

“Jiwei?” he asked, a glimmer of recognition in his voice.

Lan Qiren’s hands were on his guqin strings, a spell at the ready, but he paused at Lao Nie’s words.

Very cautiously, he shifted the guqin to the side to free up one hand, which he lowered to the jade pendant that hung at his waist. “Yes,” he said encouragingly. “It’s Jiwei’s pendant. You remember? I made it for you, to drain off some of her anger. It’s yours. I brought it to you.”

Lao Nie took a stumbling step forward, and then another, his lost eyes brightening in happiness. Lan Qiren gritted his teeth and tolerated the pain of the fiercely burning pendant, taking it into his palm and holding it out to Lao Nie as an offering.

But it wasn’t the pendant that Lao Nie reached out for, but Lan Qiren himself.

His broad hands fell upon Lan Qiren’s shoulders, and then slid up to cradle his face, his thumbs sweeping over his cheekbones in an unfamiliar gesture that made Lan Qiren shiver despite himself.

“Jiwei,” Lao Nie said, sounding pleased. “Jiwei, where were you? I missed you.”

Lan Qiren swallowed. “Lao Nie…”

“You look so different,” Lao Nie said, undeterred by Lan Qiren’s barely-said protest – undeterred, in fact, by the fact that Lan Qiren was a human being, not a saber spirit.

His hands were warm against Lan Qiren’s face.

“Lao Nie,” Lan Qiren said, very slowly, and after a moment Lao Nie responded, no longer surveying him with his eyes but meeting his gaze. “I am Lan Qiren, your friend.”

“My friend,” Lao Nie agreed, and smiled. It was his old familiar smile, confident and carefree. “Jiwei.”

“No, not Jiwei. Jiwei…Jiwei shattered, Lao Nie. Your saber shattered.”

“Yes,” Lao Nie said, very unexpectedly, and Nie Mingjue, who had gotten up and was cautiously creeping closer, looked at him with hope shining in his eyes. “Yes, I know.”

“You know your saber was shattered?” Lan Qiren said, testing, and Lao Nie nodded. “Do you know why?”

Lao Nie tilted his head to the side.

“It was Wen Ruohan,” Nie Mingjue said. “I think – when he patted it? He did something, I’m sure of it.”

Lao Nie considered this statement, his eyes half-lidded in thought; he looked for a moment very much like he had before, putting aside the state of his hair and clothing. “I think you’re right,” he said after a while. “A-Han was very angry at me, at the start, and then at the end he was still angry, but also pleased with himself in that way that he gets. You know what I mean: when he’s done something vile, something everyone would condemn him for, and he knows no one will be able to do anything about it – the way he’s both pleased with the demonstration of his power and disgusted in himself, and he has to bury the latter in the former to make himself feel better.”

You know what he’s like, why do you like him? Lan Qiren thought to himself but did not say, but Nie Mingjue wasn’t so tactful and asked the same thing, virtually verbatim, outright.

“Grown-ups are complicated, A-Jue,” Lao Nie told him, and Nie Mingjue’s knees gave out at once. He tumbled down to the floor once again, landing on his ass with a thud, and stared up at his father with tears already spilling down his cheeks.

“A-die?” he whispered. “A-die, you know me?”

Lao Nie frowned, not understanding his son’s reaction, and pulled away to turn to look at him – but the moment his hands left Lan Qiren’s skin, the look in his eyes changed, the clarity disappearing and the rage returning. His brow furrowed in confusion and offense, and Lan Qiren thought about how it must appear to him: his beloved son was there only a moment ago, and then he turned and there was a stranger there instead, taking his place. It was no wonder that Lao Nie lashed out so fiercely, no wonder that his anger burned hottest against those he loved the most.

Lan Qiren stepped forward and put his own hand on Lao Nie’s shoulder, and when that didn’t seem to help, his face, instinctively following his teacher’s habits and grabbing him by the ear like a disobedient student in need of some shaking.

“Lao Nie, calm yourself,” he ordered, ignoring the lack of calm in his own heart.

Amazingly, miraculously, Lao Nie did. The red even started to fade a little out of his eyes – they were still bloodshot, still covered in a thin red film, but he no longer looked as though he were on the verge of crying blood. The ruddiness in his face faded as well, the blood summoned up by his rage starting to recirculate throughout his body as it should, and hopefully no longer on the verge of giving him an aneurysm.

Progress, Lan Qiren thought.

“What’s going on?” Lao Nie asked, alert and aware, if confused. “Why is my study such a mess? A-Jue, why are you crying? What happened to you – A-Jue, look at you, you look terrible! Who hurt you? Who dared touch you?”

Nie Mingjue was crying too hard to speak now, shaking his head, refusing to speak.

“You tell me, then,” Lao Nie said, turning his face, belligerent again but so much more normally so, to look at Lan Qiren. “Tell me what happened!”

“It’s complicated,” Lan Qiren temporized, although he stepped forward to press his entire palm against Lao Nie’s cheek, eventually sliding it down to rest at the back of his neck instead, the still too-hot pendant trapped between his palm and Lao Nie’s flesh. He didn’t dare break the contact again, not after last time. “It will take time to explain…”

“I didn’t ask for excuses,” Lao Nie said, exasperated, impatient as always, and the sheer familiarity and nostalgia stuck in Lan Qiren’s throat, choking him. “I asked for an answer, Jiwei, and I expect one.”

The pleasant feeling froze at once, like having swallowed something the wrong way and getting it caught halfway down, stuck in his chest like a weight pressing down.

Not progress.

Or, rather – a very specific type of progress, in which Lao Nie was no longer on imminent verge of death from further qi deviations, in which he was no longer raving mad, rabid and attacking all those around him, but in which he also, apparently, believed that Lan Qiren was…his saber.

This was problematic for any number of reasons.

The first, of course, being that Lan Qiren was not, in fact, Jiwei. He was human, not a saber spirit; he was made of flesh, not metal. He wasn’t even the same gender, insofar as sabers considered themselves to have gender – both Lao Nie and Nie Mingjue affirmatively described their sabers using feminine terms, but quibbled whenever Lan Qiren attempted to describe them as women, claiming that their sabers were sabers, not humans, and therefore difficult to fit into the usual categorization.

At any rate, Lao Nie, at least, did not appear to be noticing any discrepancy.

However, that led them to the second major problem, which was that Lan Qiren and Lao Nie did not have the same relationship between them as Lao Nie had with his saber. The former were friends, however close; the latter were literally intertwined at the level of the soul, human master and spiritual weapon, co-dependent on each other in ways words could not even begin to describe. Even now, only standing next to each other, Lan Qiren could feel Lao Nie’s spiritual energy knocking against his palm, trying to enter his body to begin cultivating with him –

His ears suddenly felt like they were burning red.

What was perfectly appropriate, normal and even expected, between a cultivator and his spiritual weapon was not appropriate between two people, except perhaps dao companions who had agreed to share their lives and bodies with each other. It was entirely reasonable for Lao Nie to initiate such intimate contact – that was how spiritual weapons worked, through the cultivation of a blade or instrument through shared qi – and yet at the same time, because Lan Qiren was most definitely not a weapon, it became an offer for dual cultivation instead.

Right in front of Nie Mingjue.

Lan Qiren very firmly rejected the offer and Lao Nie laughed a little under his breath, an indulgent sound, and casually reached over to wrap his hand around Lan Qiren’s waist, pulling him closer – as if he thought Lan Qiren were merely playing hard-to-get, being prickly and inexplicitly unreasonable. As if a little bit of coaxing would be enough to get him to let down his guard, open up and let him in –

Lan Qiren coughed, abruptly very glad that he had not allowed either of his nephews to join in this trip. Or Nie Huaisang, for that matter, who despite his young age already had an over-active interest in other people’s personal lives.

That, he supposed, led them to the third problem: Lan Qiren was not nearly as easily mobile as a saber, could not be carried at Lao Nie’s belt nor kept with him at all times, and yet ceasing physical contact was clearly a bad idea. Perhaps once he had had some time to calm down…?

Nie Mingjue was looking between them with some concern as well. “A-die,” he said. “That’s Teacher Lan. Do you remember Teacher Lan?”

“Of course,” Lao Nie said, reaching out idly with his free hand as if to swat Nie Mingjue lightly on the head, an affectionate gesture that he forestalled immediately when he remembered that his son was injured. “What nonsense are you talking about? I’ve known Qiren since before I met your mother.”

“Good. That’s…good. I’m glad you remember him. You were sick for a little while, A-die; it made you confused.” Nie Mingjue paused briefly. “Can you tell me who’s that standing next to you?”

Lao Nie frowned at him. “Are you sure you’re not the one confused, A-Jue? Are you telling me you don’t recognize Jiwei?”

Nie Mingjue looked helplessly at Lan Qiren, who looked just as helplessly back.

He had absolutely no idea what to do about this – no notion of what the next step would be.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, the decision was taken out of his hands when Lao Nie looked down at himself and, with an abrupt scowl, appeared to realize the state of himself. “What a mess,” he said, disgusted. “A-Jue, have someone run me a bath. I’ll wash and head to bed for the night, but I want an answer from you as to what happened first thing tomorrow morning, do you understand me?”

Nie Mingjue’s eyes went very wide and traveled very slowly over to rest on Lan Qiren, who set aside his guqin and used that hand, once free, to pinch the bridge of his nose and try to summon patience, careful not to disturb the hand that still rested on the back of Lao Nie’s neck, the pendant still burning in his palm.

“It’s fine,” he said shortly. It was not fine, but he couldn’t think of anything else to do at the moment except continue to indulge Lao Nie’s delusion – his state was so much improved from what it was just a little while before that he couldn’t bear to even try anything that would return him to it at the moment, and he could tell from Nie Mingjue’s constant glances to his hand that he felt the same. “We’ve been night-hunting together before.”

They’d bathed together before – mostly in rivers and lakes and hot springs, not bathtubs – and they’d slept in the same bed before, when that was the only thing that was available at the local inn.

This was nothing more than that.

It’d be fine.

Nie Mingjue did not look convinced, looked in fact on the verge of protesting, but Lao Nie was already looking at him with a growing scowl – he disliked being disobeyed, even though he tolerated it more from Nie Mingjue than from others – and he had no choice but to run off to do his father’s bidding.

The second he was out of the room, Lao Nie reached over and caught Lan Qiren’s free hand, bringing it up to his face, pressing his lips against Lan Qiren’s palm.

“Jiwei, have I displeased you in some manner?” he asked, very earnestly, as Lan Qiren stared at him. “Tell me what’s the matter, darling.”

[antiquom]

THE UNHOLY TRINITY

“You think I’ll be the dark sky so you can be the star?   I’LL SWALLOW YOU WHOLE”.

Basil, Zach & Riley. Pt. 1 || @liminalfm​

When you are buried deep in the ground, you either decide to die a slowly and painfully or you dig your way out.

These children were born in particular circumstances as a cruel joke from the universe or as initial test to ascend to godhood. The three of them survived with extraordinary talent, leaving behind many others who could not fight such process. They were born of witches, of women who defied society in one way or another; some were kind and loving, some others were spiteful and crude, but they all were witches nonetheless.

One was born silent in a room full of people; several attempts is what took to get him to let out his first cry. He was born dead, but the stars offered a second chance. Gentle and quiet, Basil was raised in a world of wolves that never meant to breed a lamb. His eyes became dull and his words sharp. He stepped away from the pack and started to make his very own way to the top. Discreet but of powerful aura, Basil possesses the traits of an excellent ruler and a fair ( ? ) judge. Connected to space and time, he seems to traverse dimensions and eras freely in some apparent search for home. Authoritarian on the surface, but the most balanced of the three, The Emperor offers mature and ambitious advice, but only if you are worth the time. No deed is done without his approval.

The second was born in the woods, days before it was planned. It was dangerous and risky, too much blood as if he had clawed his way into life. His crying paralyzed time as animals and plants seemed to quiet and listen to what they would crown their prince. He was born into prosperity with silky blankets and expensive wardrobe. He was never treated less than royalty. Spoiled and loved, he was raised in arts, but also in horror. The King and The Queen were no strangers to macabre pastimes, so the child grew surrounded by art yes, but also by ghosts. He was no stranger to nature, even to the eyes of disapproving parents, he possessed an odd green thumb for even the weakest plant and the most agonizing animal. Even after tragedy struck the household, The Devil helps other concede into secret fantasies and unforgivable sins. Gifts and attention will never come short with him. No deed is done without his approval.

The last child was born during the last days of a harsh winter like no other. It was an arduous birth, but even after the storm, the calm did not set entirely. The father refused to carry his son for he had the eyes of a demon. So young and yet, unexplainably smart. His stare was not of a newborn, but of a knowledgeable being. Famine and need eventually led the child to be given away to more successful ( and suspicious ) caretakers. He was trained in academics and strategy. With fleeting interests and an unnerving joy for chaos, Riley was the pride and fear of every white collar in the headquarters. After doubtful results and an imminent danger ready to boil; he was sent to a hellhole as the last option to redeem and fix the broken mind of a genius. Too precious to lock away, but too dangerous to be allowed to roam freely. The Magician can get his hands on anything needed... for the right payment. Boredom will never be a problem with him around. No deed is done without his approval.

                                                             ⚠︎  ⚠︎  ⚠︎

Strange events lead to more strange events. The three of them gravitated towards each other the moment they set foot in Centralia. It was in an old abandoned building almost an hour away from town. They all arrived by mere coincidence, one would say, but their meeting was far from coincidental; it was decreed by forces above. Few words were exchanged, their souls recognized one another and soon, they had formed an unbreakable alliance and bond with one purpose in mind: POWER.   They all possessed traits and talents that made them valuable and unique, but at the same time, deathly if put together.

With a shared mindset, their reunions don’t stray far from a common friends reunion ( for the most part ). They eat, drink and share trivial activities, but when everything superfluous is over, then they take a walk around town or into the woods once again. They plan and analyze the situations at hand, because if there is something important to discuss at all times, that is CENTRALIA itself. Odd events and a dark past make of this the perfect spot to either raise a kingdom or turn it into a black hole. The three of them sense how different this forsaken place is from others; maybe it’s god’s very own throne or the gates to hell. Whatever the origins, Centralia has brought them together and as such it should be protected or entirely destroyed.

Discretion is recommended when the three of them are seen together out there; they are most likely discussing things you are not supposed to listen. So in case of meeting the three at the same time, be sure to mind your business, turn around and walk away. Their level of empathy decreases when they hang out and even bugs decide to remain hidden when they start to whisper cursing words. Be precise. Be smart. If you request an audience, be sure to make it worth their time.

[lostcoves]

ft. asahi azumane x fem!reader

genre: angst

wc & warnings: 3.9k | violence, graphic imagery, guns, blood, murder, death

premise: it’s 1987. asahi azumane’s friend sawamura daichi has vanished. alone and confused, asahi feels helpless until he saves a mysterious girl who may have the answers to his friend’s disappearance.

note: my piece for @haikcore​’s fall into the past collab! this is officially my longest fic to date! i hope you all enjoy!

october 1987

asahi azumane’s final semester as a third year high school student began. butterflies fluttered about his stomach at the thought of completing high school. he had no plan, no clue what he would do after high school.

asahi didn’t have many friends at school minus sawamura daichi and sugawara koshi. they were the three musketeers; always hanging out after school and at one another’s houses. yet, tragedy struck during fall break.

sawamura- or daichi, no one called him by his last name- upped and vanished one day, leaving asahi and the town of tachinan in a state of confusion.

sugawara and asahi drifted apart after that, daichi was the glue of the friendship and without him.. there was no three musketeers.

asahi entered his final semester of high school alone and afraid for his best friends.

school was hard enough with his friends but without them, asahi felt as if he was floating through a sea of uncertainty. people were scared of him for his size and appearance when he really was the human equivalent to a teddy bear. no use making friends when he looked like a monster.

asahi made a mad dash to his house after the first day of the new semester. there was no purpose in hanging out afterwards. head hung low, asahi’s mind wandered off to thoughts about daichi. whatever happened to his friend?

“look what we found, boys! the dragon princess herself, all by her lonesome!” a cackling voice caught asahi’s attention. under the bridge he stood on, there was a group of juvenile punks cornering a poor defenseless girl. the girl with her shiny (h/c) hair and bright (e/c) eyes assumed a defensive position, ready to fight. but asahi knew she couldn’t take on all those gangsters alone.

“nice tits she got, too!” that was the final straw. asahi leapt off the bridge and landed on the body of the head gangster. he didn’t know what came over him, asahi just started beating the shit out of the punk with everything he had.

“woah, woah, woah!” the girl exclaimed, “i think you did enough, big guy. look at him now.”

asahi looked down at the head gangster, his nose broken and bleeding with his eyes swollen purple and red. he stared at his fists, soaked in the gangster’s blood.

“scram!” the remaining punks scattered about and abandoned their leader. with his strength, asahi hoisted the gangster off the ground and slammed against the wall of the bridge’s underside.

“don’t harass women, asswipe,” asahi grunted before tossing the gangster to the ground. the gangster got up and scurried away, leaving asahi alone with the girl.

“i coulda handle that,” the girl commented to asahi with a huff, arms crossed.

“a ‘thank you’ would have been enough,” asahi fired back with a sigh, “no one could have handled all of those punks.”

the girl uncrossed her arms and placed them on her hips, “maybe you’re right so.. thanks, i guess.”

“lemme walk you home,” asahi offered.

the girl pondered on his offer before replying, “okay, you can walk me home.. what’s your name?”

“asahi. asahi azumane.”

“nice to meet you, asahi. hironaka (y/n) is my name but i prefer that folks just call me (y/n),” the girl- hironaka (y/n)- introduced herself to asahi.

hironaka.. why did that name sound so familiar? asahi thought to himself. he shook the thought off and asked, “where do you live?”

“just down the road,” (y/n) pointed down the street. asahi narrowed his eyes, that road led to some of the nicest homes in tachinan. nonetheless, asahi smiled and extended his hand to (y/n), “let’s get going.”

a flicker of hesitation crossed (y/n)’s face but she took asahi’s hand. asahi and (y/n) walked down the street, making small talk to pass the time.

“so how did you end up getting cornered? you don’t seem like the type that would let that happen,” asahi noted.

“they caught me off guard when i was trying to head home from school,” (y/n) answered, a frown on her face.

“i see,” asahi pressed his lips together. he hoped that you wouldn’t have to face anymore trouble, “they’re scum for attacking you.”

“agreed,” a chuckle escaped her lips. (y/n) stopped walking, “this is my place.”

asahi looked up and his jaw dropped to the ground. (y/n)’s house was huge! traditional but well built, asahi couldn’t help but admire its design. he cleared his throat and turned his attention back to (y/n), “your home is.. er, lovely?”

“thanks,” she replied. (y/n) went to leave but paused. she turned back around and embraced asahi gently, asahi nearly choking from the close contact. (y/n) pulled away and smiled, “thanks for being my knight in shining armor.”

“o- of course!” he stammered, cheeks red. (y/n) giggled and waved goodbye before disappearing into the house. 

asahi waved her off, a giddy look on his face. what a nice girl, he hoped to see her around.

little did asahi knew that it would be sooner than expected.

─────────────────

asahi left school the moment the bell dismissed him from his final class. with a bounce in his step, he made his way out of the school and promptly ran into the largest man he ever saw.

“oh!” he jumped back, flustered. asahi looked up at the man and bowed respectfully, “i’m so sorry for bumping into you.”

another man appeared, then another, and then more. asahi gulped at the realization that he was surrounded by men that vividly resembled gangsters. the man he ran into grabbed him by the collar and growled, “this is what you get for messing with the dragon princess.”

dragon princess?

a punch was thrown, the man’s fist colliding with asahi’s face. another punch and a few kicks later, asahi was left crumbled up on the ground as a bloody mess. the gangsters surrounded him and went for the kill shot when a familiar voice stopped them.

“leave him alone!”

“(y/n)..?” asahi croaked, spitting up blood. (y/n) soared out of nowhere and dropkicked the head gangster. the gangster took the kick like a man and (y/n) did a backflip, landing on her feet.

“guys, asahi saved me yesterday!” (y/n) yelled at the gangsters, “i don’t know what father told you but asahi is a friend not a foe!”

the tense aura dissipated, as the gangsters exchanged sheepish looks. the head gangster kneeled before asahi apologetically, “apologies, sir.”

“it’s.. uh.. okay,” asahi answered, wiping the blood off his face. (y/n) helped asahi up and brushed the dust off his uniform. she sighed and patted asahi on the cheek, “sorry about that, asahi.”

“and they are..?” asahi gestured to the gangsters questioningly.

“men from my father’s.. organization,” (y/n) answered nervously. then it clicked inside asahi’s mind.

“hironaka.. wait, you’re the dragon princess!” asahi gawked at (y/n), “the daughter of the red dragon clan. your family.. your family practically runs this town!”

“not so loud!” (y/n) shushed the taller boy, eyes darting to the other students passing by. she looked back at the gangsters and snapped her fingers, the men scattered and disappeared. (y/n) huffed and turned her attention back on asahi.

“i didn’t want you to find out,” (y/n) stated.

“i would have found out eventually,” asahi commented, “everything comes to light in a small town like tachinan.”

“you’re right about that..” (y/n) grumbled. 

asahi offered a smile, “thanks for saving my butt.”

“just returning the favor,” (y/n) hummed.

asahi paused, “hey (y/n)?” he asked. (y/n) looked up at asahi and tilted her head to the side in bewilderment, “yes, asahi?”

“do you wanna go out into town with me?” 

“like as in a date?”

asahi blushed with realization, “wh- i mean! well, uh.. sorta?”

(y/n) giggled, “i’m just teasing you. i’d love to go out into town with you.”

“well uh!” asahi cleared his throat, “let’s go?”

asahi and (y/n) ventured into the town of tachinan, walking down the main road. a blend of modern and traditional architecture greeted them when they made it to tachinan, food vendors lined up on the streets and people mulling about and minding their own business. 

“takoyaki?” asahi suggested to (y/n). (y/n) beamed at the mention of food, “yes please! but only if you’re treating me.”

“it would be rude of me not to,” asahi chuckled before facing the takoyaki vendor. he purchased two plates of takoyaki from the vendor and handed one plate to (y/n), “here you go.”

“thanks!” (y/n) dug into her plate of takoyaki eagerly. how adorable, asahi thought to himself while enjoying his own plate of takoyaki. some of the takoyaki’s sauce dripped down on (y/n)‘s salior fuku, causing her to curse. asahi gave her a napkin to clean up the mess. 

“so your family is yakuza..” asahi brought up the topic to (y/n), “what’s that like? being the daughter of a yakuza clan?”

“terrifying,” (y/n) answered, “so many people wanna kill me just for being the heiress to the clan.”

“don’t you have people protecting you, though?” asked asahi.

(y/n) nodded and gestured around the main street, “my bodyguard is hiding among the crowd so i’m never truly alone,” (y/n) fell silent and a sigh escaped her pretty lips, “my family has done terrible things and i don’t want to be apart of it but i have no choice.”

“i’m sorry,” asahi didn’t know what to say. a cold autumn breeze ruffled his gakuran. asahi finished his takoyaki and looked back at his newfound friend, “look, (y/n), i–”

“get down!” (y/n) screamed before tackling asahi. he collided with the ground and let out a soft ‘ompf’, just as a bullet soared through the air. a bombardment of bullets flew about the main street, bystanders running away and yelling for help. asahi stared up at (y/n), who pinned him down to the ground. 

“they found me,” (y/n) cursed. she grabbed asahi’s hand and pulled him up from the ground, “run on the count of three, okay?”

“wait–”

“one–”

“(y/n)–”

“two–”

“wait, gimme a–”

“three!”

asahi and (y/n) ran, dodging a barrage of bullets. a bullet struck a nearby bystander, much to asahi’s horror. what horrified him more was the fact he recognized the person who got shot. 

it was sugawara.

“sugawara!” asahi let go out of (y/n)‘s hand and sprinted to sugawara. he grabbed his unconscious friend and dragged him to the hiding spot, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

“god, you’re an idiot,” (y/n) commented to asahi, as he attempted to find the source of the bleeding. asahi couldn’t lose another friend,”oh zip it, i wasn’t gonna let my friend die!”

“right, right. sorry,” (y/n) apologized, as she rummaged through her backpack. (y/n) pulled out a gun from her backpack and loaded her weapon with a cartridge of bullets, “my house is only two blocks from tachinan’s main street. i’ll cover you, get your friend to safety.”

“why do you have a gun!?” asahi nearly screamed at the sight.

“for protection, duh. now, run!” (y/n) popped out of the hiding spot and fired a shot, striking one of the attackers. asahi hoisted sugawara onto his back and ran as fast towards the street (y/n) lived on. he ran and ran until he could feel his legs wanting to give out. 

“keep running!” (y/n) yelled, still shooting her gun at the invisible enemies. finally, the two of them made it into (y/n)‘s home and slammed the door behind them, panting and breathless from the fight.

“father! we got a wounded!” (y/n) shouted. footsteps echoed through the house, as a bulky man approached the foyer. he resembled (y/n) with the same (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes, “christ, (y/n)! what did you get yourself into?”

“ambush,” she responded, pocketing her gun. (y/n) winced a bit and checked her shoulder, blood soaking her uniform. asahi gawked, “(y/n)! you’re hurt!”

“flesh wound,” she grunted, “need to take care of your friend first,” (y/n) looked back at her father, “dad.. help him, please.”

“okay,” (y/n)’s father carried sugawara off into the house and called for assistance. a plump woman appeared out of nowhere with a medical kit and the two got to work with sugawara.

“here,” asahi ripped off a piece of his uniform and tied up (y/n)’s wounded shoulder, “hopefully that stops the bleeding..”

“thanks,” (y/n) forced a smile, “i’m sorry about this, asahi.”

“why are you sorry?” asahi questioned.

“we got ambushed because of me. i told you that people want me dead and now..” tears swelled up in (y/n)’s eyes, “now your friend got hurt because of me.. i’m so sorry.”

“hey, hey..” asahi held (y/n) close and wiped away her tears, “it’s not your fault, okay? so don’t blame yourself. you can’t control the fact people wanna hurt you. all you can do is fight against it.”

“you’re right,” (y/n) sniffled.

“(y/n), your friend is stable!” (y/n)’s father yelled from the kitchen. both asahi and (y/n) got up from the ground and entered the kitchen where the head of the red dragon clan and the woman from earlier waited.

“he got lucky,” (y/n)’s father stated, “the bullet didn’t hit any vital organs. he’s gonna be unconscious for awhile but he’ll make a full recovery.”

“thank you, sir,” asahi dipped his head low out of respect.

“and you must be the infamous asahi azumane!” the clan leader chuckled, “i can’t thank you enough for saving my little girl from those gangsters.”

“of course, sir! i would have done the same for any other girl or boy!” asahi exclaimed.

“drop the ‘sir’, okay? call me taro,” the clan leader- taro- replied. (y/n) let out a huff and turned to the woman, “hey reiko, can you patch me up?”

“of course, miss. (y/n),” answered the woman before guiding (y/n) off to the side for treatment. asahi looked back at taro and his expression softened, “i don’t know how to repay you for saving my friend, taro.”

“in the yakuza world, we’re even. you saved my daughter, i saved your friend,” explained taro.

“i couldn’t bare to lose another friend,” asahi muttered, staring at sugawara sadly. taro quirked an eyebrow in confusion, “did you lose a friend recently, asahi?”

“my friend daichi.. he disappeared one day and no one has heard from him ever since,” answered asahi.

“daichi.. sawamura daichi?”

asahi’s heart stopped.

“yes! that’s him!”

“yeah, i know him,” taro pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, “a good kid. last i heard of him..” taro placed a cigarette between his lips, “he got wrapped up in some bad shit with the spider monkeys,” he lit the cigarette.

“the- the spider monkeys?” asahi never heard of them before.

“a rival clan,” taro blew smoke out of his lips, “they reside on the other side of tachinan. bad folks, worse than my clan when it comes to illegal activities and what not. you do not want to get involved with them.”

“but they could have the answers to daichi’s disappearance!” asahi protested.

“they could but if you enter their terf?” taro extinguished his cigarette, “you’re a dead man, asahi azumane.”

asahi hung his head low in shame. he needed to know what happened to his friend, asahi had to know.

“a.. asahi?” sugawara’s voice caught asahi’s attention.

“sugawara!” asahi rushed to his friend’s side, grinning from ear to ear with joy. sugawara let out a weak laugh and the two friends embraced, “asahi.. god, it’s so good to see you. where.. where are we?”

“somewhere safe,” asahi told a white lie. 

“who’s he?” sugawara nodded at taro.

“that’s taro. he saved your life,” asahi explained. sugawara smiled at taro, “thanks, taro. i don’t know what my parents would have done if i died out there.”

“probably revive you and kill you again,” taro chuckled.

“yeah.. probably..” sugawara coughed a bit. asahi rubbed sugawara’s back affectionately, “take it easy. you took a bullet to the gut, suga.”

“i’ll give the two of you some alone time,” taro left the kitchen. asahi looked back at sugawara and whispered, “i found where daichi is, suga.”

“you what?!” he shouted. asahi covered sugawara’s mouth and shushed him before releasing his hand from his mouth. the bun wearing boy then told his friend, “daichi was last seen with the spider monkeys.”

“oh my god.. daichi’s dead then!” sugawara went pale in the face.

“we don’t know that!” asahi countered.

“if he’s with the spider monkeys, then he’s probably dead..” grumbled sugawara with sorrow.

“what are you two talking about?” (y/n) popped into the conversation.

“who are you?” sugawara asked.

“i’m the girl who saved your ass,” (y/n) answered. she grabbed a chair and sat down in front of the boys, “so what’s the plan?”

“we’re gonna infiltrate the spider monkeys’ terf.”

“you’re an idiot,” (y/n) smirked, “but i’m in.”

“well, i’m not!” sugawara interjected, “i almost died today.. i’m not gonna risk that again.”

“then me and (y/n) will save daichi,” asahi stated.

“well, good luck with that..” mumbled sugawara.

“we’ll go tomorrow,” asahi told (y/n). she nodded, “sounds like a plan.”

“you’re an idiot,” sugawara spat.

“i may be an idiot but at least i still have faith in my friends!” asahi fired back.

“boys, boys!” (y/n) cut between the bickering friends, “enough, okay?”

sugawara and asahi fell silent.

“i’ll get you tomorrow, asahi. we’ll save daichi,” (y/n) held her fist to asahi.

asahi fist-bumped (y/n), “thanks, (y/n).”

operation: save daichi was a go.

─────────────────

under the cover of darkness, asahi and (y/n) made their way to the headquarters of the spider monkeys. armed with a revolver and some training from (y/n), asahi felt confident in the rescue mission.

“you guys are idiots,” a familiar voice greeted (y/n) and asahi from their hiding spot. sugawara stood behind them, annoyance written over his friend. asahi broke out into a grin at the sight of his friend, “suga! you came!”

“of course i did,” he huffed, “i wasn’t gonna let my friend rush into yakuza territory alone,” sugawara eyed (y/n), “well.. i wasn’t gonna let my friend rush into yakuza territory without my help.”

“here you go,” (y/n) handed sugawara a gun, “take the safety off, cock it, aim, and fire. simple, ain’t it?”

“yeah.. simple..” he scoffed.

“on my lead,” (y/n) nodded to the boys. she counted down from five and on one, the trio rushed into the spider monkeys headquarters. a yakuza member noticed them but before he could fire his gun, (y/n) fired and shot him square in the head. 

“shit..” asahi nearly puked at the sight of the dead body.

“keep moving!” (y/n) yelled at asahi. the trio spilt up and ventured through the house on the search for daichi. asahi took the first floor and listened for any clues, keeping his gun close. 

“you’re a dead man, sawamura.”

asahi’s ears perked up at the sound of daichi’s name. it came from the room on the left, its door slightly ajar. asahi hid behind the door and peeked inside, horrified at what he saw.

his friend daichi, bloody and beaten. he looked malnourished, his muscles losing definition and his cheeks hollow. a yakuza member was in the midst of interrogating him, slapping daichi around whenever daichi gave an answer he didn’t like.

i’m gonna have to kill him.

asahi realized that thought and cocked his gun.

aim.

asahi aimed at the yakuza member’s head.

fire.

asahi fired his gun.

bang!

the bullet flew through the air and through the head of the yakuza member, who dropped dead to the ground.

i just killed a man.

asahi pushed his thoughts aside, as he ran to his friend and dragged him out of the room. tears of joy flowed out of asahi’s eyes, as he got his friend out of the yakuza headquarters.

“i knew you were alive, daichi!” asahi cried out.

“you saved me,” daichi managed a weak smile.

“you can thank we when we–”

asahi paused.

daichi looked confused, “asahi?”

asahi dropped to his knees, blood spilling from his abdomen. 

“asahi!” daichi screamed.

sugawara and (y/n) ran out of the house at the sound of daichi’s screaming. (y/n) gasped at the state asahi was in and with sugawara’s help, the two managed to drag daichi and asahi to safety.

“asahi got shot!” sugawara sobbed. 

“i gotta stop the bleeding!” (y/n) applied pressure to the wound but it was too much, asahi was losing blood too fast. asahi held a hand up and rested it on her cheek, “it’s okay. you can stop now.”

tears fell from her cheeks and onto asahi’s face, “you’re gonna die, asahi..”

“it’s okay,” he forced a smile, “it’s okay, (y/n). get sugawara and daichi to safety, okay? for me, do it for me.”

“i’m not leaving you,” (y/n) hoisted asahi up and threw his arm around her shoulders, “sugawara, help daichi. we’re getting out of here.”

sugawara and (y/n) dragged their friends out of the war zone, bullets flying by from angry yakuza members. the two of them carried asahi and daichi to safety in the form of a nearby clinic.

“we’re gonna get you treatment,” (y/n) reassured asahi. 

asahi laughed softly, “(y/n).. it’s okay, really. i’m ready.”

“you’re not dying on me, idiot!” (y/n)’s body shook with sobs. asahi sat up and kissed (y/n) on the lips, silencing her worries. they kissed and kissed until asahi couldn’t anymore.

“i love you,” he whispered.

“i love you too.. idiot,” (y/n) wiped away her tears with a grin.

“thanks for the memories, daichi and sugawara,” asahi told his friends.

“we love you, asahi,” daichi and sugawara held their friend. (y/n) kissed asahi on the forehead, “you can go to sleep now, asahi.”

“i love you guys.”

asahi closed his eyes and exhaled his last breath.

“we love you, asahi azumane.”

─────────────────

november 1987

daichi, sugawara, and (y/n) stood silently before the casket of asahi azumane. mourners expressed their apologies to the family of the deceased, asahi’s mother sobbing in the arms of asahi’s father.

“he saved my life,” daichi muttered, hand resting on the closed casket.

“mine as well,” sugawara added, placing his hand over daichi’s.

“he’s a hero,” (y/n) stared at the casket.

“i think i decided what i’m gonna do after high school,” daichi spoke up. sugawara and (y/n) looked at daichi in befuddlement, “what are you gonna do?” sugawara asked.

“i’m gonna become a police officer,” daichi bore his eyes into (y/n), “i’m gonna put the spider monkeys in jail for what they did to asahi.”

“i wish you luck with that,” (y/n) responded.

“i think i’m gonna be a teacher,” sugawara announced, “to teach people and be a positive role model so they don’t turn down the path of the spider monkeys.”

“i’m gonna turn my clan into an organization that helps people,” (y/n) looked back at the casket, “for asahi’s sake.”

“for asahi’s sake,” daichi nodded.

“for asahi’s sake,” sugawara smiled.

in a distance, the ghostly figure of asahi azumane watched his friends and first love make those promises to one another. a smile bloomed on his face as a result.

“for my sake,” he replied, “for your sakes, as well.”

[mysterytickingegos]

The Dream Team

Pairing: Mayor Damien x Reader

Genre: Fluffy beginning, then Angst.

Word Count:2,965

Summary: The newly elected mayor and district attorney were set to change this city for the better, perhaps as more than friends. Alas, fate (or at least, Mark) had different plans. Once-good people make a mistake, and upon striking their final deal in an effort to protect their friends, they instead set themselves on a tragic path for vengeance.

Anonymous Request: So for the request things, maybe 12, 43, and 44 with Damien? Maybe during WKM with female or gender neutral pronouns? (Thank you! I’m super excited to see your writing!)

Authors Note: Thank you for being my first request!

Want to read more?

[Image Description: A gif of Mayor Damien from chapter one of who killed markiplier, walking our of frame while bidding goodbye to the viewer. End Description.]

You stepped out of your car, almost in awe of the manor before you. At the bottom of the stairs stood a familiar raven-haired young woman, who upon hearing you coming up behind her, turned around.

“Tsk tsk, is this the kind of punctuality we should expect from our new district attorney?” She asked, crossing her arms as she bit back a smile.

“Ophelia, I never pegged you as a hypocrite.” You shot back at her, leading to her holding her hand over her heart in mock offense before you both broke into laughs. “Is your uncle inside already?”

She sighed, “Yes, why do you think I’m still out here? Postponing the inevitable lecture.”

You started to nod in agreement, then stopped. “Do you...really think being even later will help your predicament?”

You could see the wheels turning in her head before she winced through her teeth. ‘Damn.”

The door opened up with the houses butler on the other side, confused to see the two of you lingering outside. He kindly welcomed you and took your invitations, and as soon as he left your line of sight, there was Damien, the other half of your political dream team. Ophelia immediately ducked into the archway to her left, but it was too late, he had seen her.

Luckily for her, you were in a playful mood yourself. Just as he passed you, you caught his hand, bringing him back in your direction. “I just got here and you’re running off already?”

“Of course not, Y/n.” He said with a kind smile, before placing a kiss on the top of your hand. “I’m glad you made it. How have you been settling into your new office? It’s going to take some getting used to I’m sure.”

“Certainly. I still get this strange feeling I’m intruding every once in a while.” You shrugged softly, even with the thought you got a hint of that same feeling in your gut. “But that seems to come with the title in general, to be frank.”

Damien just shook his head, “My dear, there is no one I would rather have alongside me to protect this great city of ours.”

“Well, I appreciate your confidence in me.” You’d been working together for almost 5 years now and yet it still amazed you how well you worked as a team. “You know it’s funny, when we met, this is not where I saw my life going.”

The laugh that got out of him warmed your heart, although not half as much as what he said next; “Hopefully I’ve helped exceed your expectations.”

“Perhaps in more ways than you think.” You couldn’t stop yourself from saying it. As subtle as it may have been, the recognition in his eyes made it obvious to you that you had revealed your true feelings for the man standing before you, at least partially.

Before either of you could speak again, the butler cleared his throat behind you, almost making you jump out of your skin as you instinctively took a step back from Damien. “Champagne?” The tall man asked, seemingly unable to read the room.

“Uh, y-yes, thank you.” You took the small glass he was handing you, and chose to keep your focus there, at least until you heard another voice coming down the stairwell. After the speech that came from the man who invited you, you braced yourself for the rest of the night by downing the glass in one go.

After that, the rest of that night was mostly a blur. All of the usually posh guests loosened up at the table and you had done rather well, getting a rather stubborn detective out of the game early on.

There is one moment, at the end of the night, that sticks out clearly in your memory though. It always will.

You and Damien had left the crowd at maybe one in the morning, choosing to cool down on the balcony off of his room. “I haven’t had this much fun since...well before law school!” You exclaimed, taking another swig from a snagged champagne bottle you’d been sharing up there for a half hour.

“You were incredible down there. I mean- pft - his-” Damien erupted into a fit of the giggles, and you couldn’t help but follow suit. “Abe’s face when you put down that awful hand!”

“God help me if I ever need his help in court...” You sighed, and then you both lost it again.

Finally, when you had both calmed down, caught your breath, you locked eyes. You could’ve sworn that time slowed down just for the two of you. He pushed the hair out of you face, gently resting his hand on your cheek. “You know, you never cease to amaze me, Y/n.” With those words you both began to lean closer, and as you closed your eyes you could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

His lips had just barely ghosted over yours when he pulled away from you, wincing. You opened your eyes to your friend ghostly pale, gripping onto the rail of the balcony for support. “Woah, Damien are you alright?”

He had trouble even looking up from the ground, making it clear how the world must’ve been spinning in his perspective. “I...I don’t feel well.”

“I think you’ve just pushed yourself a bit too far tonight,” You reassured him, gently trying to guide him away from the balcony.

“No, this is...is...” He stopped to catch his breath, as though he had been holding it throughout the conversation. He then shook his head, a forced smile at his lips. “...Nevermind, it even sounds mad in my mind. I’m sure you’re right.”

“Come on, you should rest.” You brought him inside, surprisingly sobered after seeing the look on his face. As you shut the door to the balcony, the lights to the room flickered and stayed dimmed afterwards.

Damien groaned in pain, holding his hand to his head. “You do that?”

“No...” You stepped over and noticed now that Damien was also in a cold sweat. “Oh, goodness. Perhaps you’ve caught some kind of bug.”

“In that case I apologize for kissing you.” The joke just barely got a laugh out of either of you, him in too much pain and you far too concerned for his well-being.

“I’m going to go downstairs and see if-”

He was the one to catch your hand this time. “No, no, Y/n I’m- I’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry so much.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes...You should go off to bed as well, it’s so late.”

You were hesitant to leave him, but chose to trust him. If it was that bad, he would tell you, right?

So you bid him goodnight, told him to get help if he needed it, and did as he said despite the pit in your stomach.

The next day it was as though nothing had happened at all, he seemed to be in perfect health as he greeted you on the staircase, not saying a word about his illness or anything else that had happened before then. You felt strange of course, and had plans to speak to him in private, but those plans vanished in a cloud of smoke when the body of the host of this event fell flat in front of you. Naturally, that remained at the forefront of your mind.

Even later as you began to notice your good friend acting slightly off, you ignored it. After all, he was grieving, you told yourself. He was still processing all of this and the best you could do was be there for him. Besides, you had your own troubles to deal with today, the investigation becoming more and more bizarre with every passing minute.

All of it seemed to boil over with you trying to calm an impossibly chaotic situation; a screaming match between the very panicked and very guilty looking colonel, a young woman demanding answers as to what happened to the only family she had, and a stubborn detective who just wouldn’t stop pushing all the wrong buttons...until he was shot. After that, you made an attempt to disarm William before he could hurt anyone else.

This was the next-to-last poor decision you would make.

Yet another gunshot rang through the old manor alongside a horrible shriek from you.You clutched your stomach as your body jerked backwards into the railing that was just low enough to bring about another tragedy. Regret immediately flashed over William’s eyes, he dropped the gun and both him and Ophelia tried to reach out for you once they saw you were falling backwards. It was too late, your body hit the ground with an awful crunch and your sight went black.

And then...and then you were floating. In some kind of void, you started to move forward until a body fell in front of you for the second time that day. “It’s not fair, is it?” It hissed at you.

No, it wasn’t.

Tears began to sting at your eyes but you held them back. In the distance you could hear voices, voices that were too familiar, and began to move towards them.

“He took everything from us.” The first voice started, “He trapped us here with this broken shell and no way out!”

“This whole time I thought it was the house, but I never thought he’d fall this far.” The second voice began to crack, laced with pain and guilt.

“And we played right into his hands. He’d been planning this for years and now that son of a bitch is out there walking around in my body!”

You approached two figures, with two auras, red and blue. The woman surrounded by red, a psychic you had met just hours before, glanced up at you. “Damien we can’t do this right now...” She warned him.

“Why not?! From where I stand we seem to have all the time in the world!” She rolled her eyes and nodded in your direction, and the moment he laid eyes on you the rage turned to sadness. “Y/n...”

You didn’t hesitate to go to him and he pulled you into his arms, the both of you having thought you’d lost the other forever. “Damien, is this...” You paused, having to push for the next words to come out of your mouth. “Are we dead?”

“It would seem so.” He said quietly. Once your fears were confirmed you broke, letting a sob escape as tears ran down your face. “Don’t cry, darling, we’re going to be alright.”

You laughed in disbelief. How? How could either of you be alright?

“You will be, death doesn’t mean the same thing here.” Celine’s voice echoed through the nothingness.

You pulled away from your friend to look at her, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“What Celine means by that is, this doesn’t have to be the end. You are trapped in here just the same as us but...your body, broken as it may be, it’s still out there.” Damien attempted to explain.

“Mark is not the only one who can use this place to his benefit. The same way I brought you here, is the way that I can send you back.”

“Send me back? I understand you want to help but that is just...unnatural.” You told the psychic, thinking back to the way you had passed.

“It wouldn’t be merely selfish. William and Elli are still in that house, clueless as to what’s really happening. And if William doesn’t pick up on it soon, well you’ve seen first hand he is just as dangerous as Mark.” Damien explained.

You nodded, beginning to understand. “So somebody has to stop the madness.”

“But... I’m afraid you won’t be able to survive on your own.” He started, taking your hand in his. “You are dead after all. But if you trust me, if you let me in, we can fix this together.”

“Together? So we’ll both be...”

“In your mind, yes. It won’t be pleasant, but it’s only temporary.”

You nodded again. Of course you trusted him, after all these years you had no reason not to. Celine began to push you to reality, a rush of wind surrounding and spinning around the two of you. ‘Damien?”

“Yes y/n?”

“...I’m Scared.”

“...I am too. But we’ve got this, we’re going to make things right.”

And in the blink of an eye you were back on the floor of the manor, gasping for breath as you felt unimaginable pain throughout your body. Yet the pain was overwhelmed by the shock of hearing two separate trains of thought in your head. Two separate voices commanding your body to sit up, to find your friends. Far as you could tell though, yours was still the one in charge. And of course you reminded yourself that this new voice belonged to Damien, that it was okay.

You pulled yourself up off of the ground and did not need to venture far, seeing William on a loveseat just a few feet away as well as Ophelia sitting in the archway with her knees tucked to her chest and a red blotchy face. Both were staring at you, one in awe and the other in terror. Every breath you were taking felt like you were inhaling glass, and you struggled to speak.

William sat up, holding his hand out to show he was unarmed in an attempt to comfort you. “We thought you were dead,” He barely muttered out. “I-I mean of course you’re not dead. How could you be dead? I wouldn’t have killed you. I didn’t kill you. I mean of course I...I...”

Your emotions kept twisting and turning and shifting. From concern and compassion for the person who seemed to be unraveling in front of you, to a sick, burning rage at the fact he was going through this at all. You wanted to reach out for him, but everything felt so heavy. Every movement you made came with stings and aches that shot through you. You instead remained blank, unmoving as you listened. Ophelia had begun to approach you cautiously. “I think you should sit back down Colonel.” She told him softly. The thought crossed your mind that this poor girl was never going to recover from today.

“I’m fine! Everyone is fine!” The Colonel exclaimed, setting Damien's cane down and running his hands through his hair. “I didn’t kill anyone I...ha! It was all a joke! Of course it was all a joke! Oh, Damien put you two up to this, didn’t he? Of course he did!” He waved you both off, wandering off almost with a drunk-like sway to go find his lost friends.

You realized your fists were clenched at your sides, and released them. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, though it wasn’t all you could hear. Damien was trying to comfort you as tears stung your eyes and the unbearable pain left you shaking.

It was so difficult just to stand. Your head was pounding, it was too full. Too much happening at once.

Ophelia hesitantly placed her hand on your shoulder, an attempt to get your attention surely. “Y/n? How...how did this happen? I mean, you were gone. Cold.”

You held back a wince at her gesture, even that soft a touch was making you want to scream. The ringing in your ears was getting louder, screaching.

You tried to ground yourself to reality, to her voice, “Y/n, can you hear me?”

“Go get in your car Elli, get away from this place.” You finally managed to speak, your voice coming out shaky and low through gritted teeth.

“What about you?”

The words that came out next were not your own, that you were sure of. “I have some unfinished business to attend to.”

“Hold on just a minute.”

“Go.” Your voice dipped down to a growl and she was more scared now, looking at you as though she was pondering whether or not you had come back fully human. You weren’t quite sure either. After she rushed out of the house with the door slamming behind her, you braced yourself on the accent table in the hall. You now felt as though you were fighting for dominance of your own mind. You knew what you wanted, and that was to find Mark, no matter how long it took. Your better half disagreed. You wanted out of this house as quickly as possible, and grabbed the cane in front of you to support your broken body.

Wrong move.

Feeling chills up your spine at what you had caught a glimpse of in the corner of your eye, you looked up into the mirror, and saw a reflection that did not belong to you. Instead it belonged to the man you loved. Or at very least, a shell of who he was the night before. He gave you a sad smile, then closed his eyes and against your will your body moved, your head tilted to one side, then the other with harsh cracks coming from your neck. On the second, the mirror broke, nothing but static in the missing pieces. Static that resembled all of your buried thoughts in your mind. Instead of your confused pleas and questions as to what was happening, you heard his voice.

“It’s okay, my dear. You should rest.“

The very last thing you managed to get through, before the pain faded away completely; “Damien, please, don’t leave me.”

But as you already know, that plea landed on deaf ears.

You already know that he pushed you out.

That he left you behind.

That he let the darkness consume him in an effort to save you anymore pain.

So much for the dream team.

[bangtan-dreamland]

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.

[nikelykke]

WANTED ! —

                                         IO GLÜCKSBURG

                                                 princess of greece

click ! click ! click ! the steps are never out of a rhythm. io glücksburg doesn’t stumble. she sweeps into the room a pleasant smile on her lips and a smooth voice breaking a silence for a greeting. io glücksburg only speaks when there is something to say but for someone as sharp and opinionated as io, it is quite often.

              io glücksburg is a bit of an enigma. she everywhere but she is nowhere. upper secondary school in rome — oh the things she learnt surrounded by such culture ! undergraduate studies in the beautiful paris — it’s where she made a habit of wearing lipstick and spending her allowance at cafes. postgraduate studies in vienna — the city inspired her passion for history. 

              io glücksburg has more friends and acquaintances than there are people in athens, almost too many people know her name and the elegant way she carries herself, but not many people have seen inside her head. she keeps her thoughts, dreams, and desires strictly to herself. she won’t even expose her dislikes to anyone — people never know when they have disappointed io... they are simply let go of her life. 

              io glücksburg has a tendency to attract other people: when she speaks, she shows everyone just how much information has been stored inside her head. renaissance painters, post-modern artists, viennese composers, the recently awarded conductor, the current prima ballerinas of the most revered ballet companies... people are often mesmerized by the way she seems to embody high culture — or simply by the way she smiles softly and lets a small sparkle dance in the corner of her eye. if it’s not her thoughts, it’s definitely her charming aura that captures the attention of the people around her.

              io had a fairly easy youth. as the second child of the king of greece, not too much was expected of her. she had the freedom to quench her thirst for knowledge in any way she considered suitable for herself. she had a fierce desire to become independent as well, which was why she left for rome in the first place. only once she had matured, she understood the value of family. her older sister maia had to carry the burden of being the crown heir. io had a supporting role — and io was not the type to be envious. 

              when io’s sister was crowned queen  after the death of their father ( cause of death tbd, nothing too tragic ), io made athens her home. she found meaning in the work she did to help her sister and quite honestly, she excelled at it too. the network of people she had, made it easy to be a lobbyist for the royal family. what she wasn’t ecstatic about was the man maia had picked for herself: andrés moncada was a leech. dashingly handsome and charming, yes, but insincere. io, with her younger sister nike, kept her lips sealed about her distaste for the man for her sister’s sake. 

              but a tragedy struck ! it was 2017, when maia passed away far too young. she left behind a small baby girl, a warring country, and a devastated pair of siblings. io and nike were heartbroken and perhaps that is the reason why andrés managed to maneuver himself onto the greek throne with such ease. is he a good ruler ? no. does he even want the title ? not really. but is he willing to give it up for the glücksburgs ? no. 

              io and nike are doing their best to make io the queen regent of greece and kick andrés off the throne. it’d be better that a glücksburg kept the throne warm for leda who’s still a child.  

name: io ( or whatever you want ) glücksburg. age: 35+. fc: janet montgomery, crystal reed, astrid berges-frisbey, bryce dallas howard, dakota johnson, any age appropriate white fc ! connections: @nikelykke ( little sister ), @vndrcs ( brother-in-law ), @thcrc, @viggc, @princesten ( cousins )

— —  apply at @highsocietyhq​ !!

[vansmaybeonthewall]

The Ghost of Beacon Hills High||Part 5

ooooooo shiiiiit. i’ve been busy with a thing called school, so sorry about the huuuge wait i’ve caused. i have homework and it sucks that i can’t write as much. :/

Masterlist

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The plan was….simple enough. The pack had reconvened with Deaton to explain the tragedy that was Gabby’s life. Luckily Deaton knew what they were dealing with. The plan didn’t change much, only a couple more things had to be done. Gabby had to return to the Nemeton in order for her body to reappear. But she couldn’t do that with her spirit trapped in the school. She could only be free if she had a vessel for her spirit to attach to. So really, the plan was not simple at all. 

Deaton had explained that the vessel had to be an object of importance, an item that one would struggle to let go of. That was the troubling part. The pack wanted to help the girl..but they couldn’t just give up those tokens. However, a certain beta was willing enough.

“I can do it.”

“Liam-” Scott tried.

“No, I get it. You guys can’t give these things up, but I can. And I’m willing to do it.” His outburst did shock the pack, but his courageousness made them prouder.

“Liam, do understand that if you do this, what you sacrifice may not be recovered,” Deaton explained, making sure that he understood. 

“I do. She would be proud anyways.”

“Wait wait wait. Who?” Stiles was confused, more like the whole pack was confused. 

“Well, the thing I’m quote on quote “sacrificing” is my grandma’s necklace. She believed in doing whatever it took to do the right thing, even if it meant losing something.”

Quite astounding, isn’t it? The young beta who was thrown into the supernatural world with no warning, was brave enough to give up the last piece of his relative for a girl who died years ago. Of course everyone else didn’t know what to say. A freshman was willing to do what they as juniors couldn’t.

“Well, what do we have to do?” Lydia cut in.

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Gabby was nervous, who wouldn’t be? She had the chance to finally leave the high school, to be able to see Beacon Hills again. But would it work? She didn’t want to get her hopes up. 

“Gabby? You with us?”

“Huh? Sorry. What’s happening?”

“Weeelll, Deaton said that you and the person who is giving up the object, which is Liam, must stand in the center holding the object, the necklace, while the rest of us chant the Latin phrases.” Lydia explained to Gabby.

“Giving up? What do you mean giving up?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Liam didn’t want the girl to feel bad when he really wanted to help her. 

“But-”

“Really it’s okay.” The two had a moment gazing into each other's eyes, before being interrupted by Stiles. 

“Oookaay, let’s get this show on the road.”

Don’t be afraid Gabby. Whatever happens, happens.

The group decided to do the ritual right by the school doors, an easy way of figuring out if Gabby could leave.

“So, what happens if you leave right now?” Scott needed to know, in case of succession or failure. 

Gabby walked past the doors, trying to leave, only to somehow be put halfway down the hallway. She knew what to expect, as she tried leaving the first day of being there. The endless cycle of running and tears. The frustrated screaming. Running and running until she finally broke. 

“That happens.”

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“Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Make this work,please God make this work.

Liam and Gabby stood in the center of the pack, the two of them holding onto the necklace. The simple heart shaped pendant dangling. Those surrounding joined hands and started the chant.

“ergo liberi eius erunt

 ergo liberi eius erunt

 ergo liberi eius erunt

 set in hac sacrificium est anima eius!”

Light started to emanate from the necklace, a strong wind forming along with it. The bright light spread along Gabby, creating a white aura around her. The wind became rougher, hair was being whipped around. And then….nothing. No wind, no light, but the necklace now lay upon Gabby’s neck. The diamonds seemed to sparkle brighter than before. There was hope. 

“I think it worked?”Stiles wanted it to have worked, but he didn’t want to get the girl’s hopes up.

“We HOPE it worked, Stiles.” Lydia countered. 

“There’s only one way to find out

Scott motioned the pack outside, him and Kira keeping the two doors open. Gabby was left inside, bracing herself for whatever may come next. 

You can do this. You’ve been through worse. What’s one last hope going to do?

She stepped closer and closer to the door, closing her eyes at the last second. She stepped through. Opening her eyes, she expected to be back in the hallway again. Instead, she found herself beneath the night sky, cool air surrounding her. She took a few more steps, assuring herself that this was indeed real. She let out a tearful laugh. She took off running and screaming. But who could blame her? She finally had the freedom she deserved.  

Gabby tackled Liam in a hug, causing them to fall to the ground. 

“I don’t know what you had to give up and I am really sorry you had to, but thank you. I don’t know how I’ll make it up to you.” 

“Y-You don’t have to.”

“I’ll find a way, I promise you that.”

It was cute, the way they were looking at each other, you would have wanted a picture to capture the pureness of the moment. 

“You know, this is nice and all, but we have an evil shape-shifting ex-boyfriend of yours to stop,” Stiles once again interrupted. 

This caused the two freshmen to scramble off the floor. 

“Right. What do we have to do now?” Gabby asked.

“We have to go to the Nemeton.” Scott stated.

“So we have to go there, where my body is going to magically appear because the Nemeton “notices” me, and then I have to chant some Latin? If I can leave the school, why can’t we just ignore that step?”

“Because nobody sees you.” Malia bluntly said. Ouch.

“Malia!”

“What? She asked.”

“Okay, so others don’t see me, but you guys can? This is some supernatural bullshit. Let’s get it over with.”

With one part of their plan completed, the pack and Gabby were confident the next would work. They were going to split up and drive towards the woods. It would have been suspicious to leave cars in an empty school parking lot. 

“Holy shit! I call riding in that Jeep and I will be using the ‘I was stuck in a highschool for years” card.”

“Yes! Stiles wins, Jeep for the win!” Stiles threw his fists in the air out of celebration. “Can I keep you? Scott, can I keep her? She’s the best.”

“Uhm, I don’t think you can keep her Stiles.”

“If staying with him means the Jeep, then I will do it.”

“Stiles wins!”

////

Beacon Hills changed as Gabby spent her time locked away. She noticed one of the diners she used to hang out at closed down, cars looked different, and people definitely dressed different. She was stuck staring out the window, looking at how much the town she grew up in changed. Of course Stiles, Scott, and Liam noticed, but what could they say? She lost so much of her life and the people in it. The pack knew loss, but Gabby in a way, lost more. There was no prom with her best friends, no Senior trip, none of the great memories you experience in highschool. 

Before she knew it, the town turned into woods and the Nemeton was closer. And soon enough, everybody would be able to see her again. 

Especially Jason. 

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taglist: @inumorph @lovelyhufflepuff38 @ asihailan @francesciak @big-galaxy-chaos @nmriia​ @143amberrose​ @rylie-lothbrok 

[yandere--stuck]

Yandere!Discord x Celestia

"Retirement?" Discord croaked, air catching his lungs.

"Yes! It's a great idea, don't you think?" Celestia beamed. "Luna and I can finally get a well-deserved break, I don't think either of us have had one since we were foals! And Twilight will finally be able to stretch her wings, well, so to speak, and gain confidence as a ruler."

"Retirement…" Discord breathed out in a whisper. "You're retiring…"

Celestia's face fell, but only momentarily. The Alicorn perked up as she picked up a tea kettle with her magic, a pink aura surrounding it as she poured more tea into her cup. A nervous chucked bubbled up from her throat.

"Well, yes, but it won't be permanent, of course."

Discord stared down at his paw and claw, resting against his torso. A paw and claw. Just another way he's different. But, one couldn't ignore how useful they were, like holding things you love close to you. His head hung and maw hanging open in pure shock. His ears hung low and brushed against the back of his head. 

"Where will you go…? What will you do?"

"Oh, well, of course, we're thinking of doing some travelling. But, I suppose we'll cross that bridge when we get there!"

Discord sat silently, letting the pony's words consume him. She… She was leaving him. Again. Just when he thought things were getting better. Just when he thought they were getting closer. Just when he thought things would be like they used to be.

A memory made his heart pang with sadness.  Sadness and grief and regret and pain… All things that could be frowned out by the numbing joy of chaos.

Nothing could hurt you if nothing made enough sense to hurt you in the first place.

… A snow-white filly with wavy pink hair and eyes of sparkling rose quartz, her legs too long for her body. A draconequus, a mischievous mishmash of many beasts, who loved her more than tragedy loved to befall both of them. Oh, how they loved to play together, how they loved to trick and fool and play pranks. It was perfect. And then it wasn't. Because she insisted that she doesn't have time for playing games anymore, Discord. She has a nation to worry about, Discord. Her people need her, Discord. 

You're a draconequus, Discord, and everypony hates draconequui and they're all murderers and hateful and cruel and they're monsters and-!... Well, okay. She didn't say that. But, it felt like it!

… So, when it came time to choose her people and her steadily spiralling and increasingly chaotic coltfriend…

She sealed him in stone.

"I'm very sorry that I didn't tell you sooner." Celestia said softly. "I figured now would be the best time, considering Luna and I were planning on announcing it to everypony else, as well."

"It's… Okay." Discord lied, pausing a moment. "... When were you planning on leaving?"

"Today, at the soonest."

"TODAY?!"

Celestia flinched, eyes wide at the draconequus' outburst. Her dining partner seethed from the opposite side of the table, panting loudly through his snout. His sharp teeth were bared and a growl built up in his throat.

Pink eyes trained on Discord, not willing to leave him. "Discord, I…"

Discord shook his head, eyes screwed shut, leaning against the tabletop. "No, no, this wasn't supposed to happen… I… I thought…" Discord blinked open his eyes, training on Celestia's hoof, resting against the surface. Hesitantly, he reached out with paw-

The princess quickly retracted it, flinching at the draconequus' movements.

Tears bubbled up in Discord's eyes. "Celly, I thought we…"

"Oh, Discord, is that what this all about?" Celestia sighed. The princess bit her lip. "Discord… We… We're not like that, anymore. I don't- we… We can't go back to that. So many things have happened and changed. It wouldn't be right."

A sob escaped Discord's throat, wracking through his entire body. He wrapped his arms around himself in a vain attempt at comfort. His body seized up and seemed to attempt to fold in on itself as he cried.

This wasn't fair! This wasn't right! This wasn't supposed to happen!

"Discord, I'm so sorry. I had no idea you still felt so strongly-"

Why didn't she remember? They were in love! She loved him and he loved her and they loved each other and they still do, they're supposed to! So, why-?

"But, you have to understand… We're just not those kids anymore. We can't be like that together. It would be irresponsible-"

He was good again, he was so good, he was getting better, even! So why… Why wasn't he enough? He loves her, he deserves her. And she has to love him, too! Why else would she-

"-I truly am sorry. I may have been a bit tone deaf, and inconsiderate. So many times I try to teach my little ponies to be caring and considerate of others, when I couldn't even realize the pain you must still be feeling-"

Maybe… Maybe it wasn't her. Maybe, it was just like before. The outside world, the other ponies, everything else… Tricking her into thinking he was bad for her, that he wasn't a good influence, that there were more important things at hoof. And after all this time, she still hasn't unlearnt it.

"-And for that, I am truly sorry. I hope you can forgive me. Even if we can't be together exactly like you'd want. But-"

Then, Discord supposed, the outside world will simply have to go away. Oh, Celly will get her vacation, alright.

Momentarily, a feeling of guilty gnawed at him, before he mentally cast it aside. This was good. This was right. Discord was good. This was the right thing to do.

"-I hope we can still be friends."

"No…!" Discord growled.

"What?" The hurt in Celestia's voice almost made him whimper.

The draconequus easily reached over to grab at the princess' hoof, dragging her over to press her body against his. Underneath his fur, Discord's body was alight with fiery warmth at the feeling of Celestia against him. His growls turned into purrs as he nuzzled against her.

"Discord, let go!" Celestia squirmed in his grip.

Discord chuckled, tilting up her chin with a finger. "Not this time, my dear. I let you go once, and looked how that happened. I'll never let you go, again."

The snow-white alicorn glared up at him, (oh, she was so cute when she was mad!) her horn sparking with a pink aura.

Oh no, she doesn't!

With a simple snap, her horn disappeared completely, alongside her wings. She was completely powerless and at his mercy.

Another snap, and they were both in another building entirely, much smaller than the castle, certainly. Outside the windows, Celestia saw an endless expanse of chaos, with no meaning or rhyme or reason.

Her heart beated against her ribcage. This was his dimension…

"You're powerless now, Celly," Discord crooned, nuzzling against his beloved. "And you're in my world now."

The former-alicorn seized up in fear, eyes darting about in confusion. "H- how did- why- how did you-"

Discord chuckled. "I'm much more powerful than you think, darling. The only reason I didn't do anything like this when you first banished me is because I had a soft spot for you and Lulu. I wanted to give you a fighting chance.

And now that I've changed, I wanted to be good. I wanted to reconnect naturally. I wanted to do it for you. But, no… Of course not. You don't want that. You wanted to leave me all over again!"

"Discord, please, I'm truly sorry, please, just listen-!"

"No... No more Mr. Nice Discord. Don't worry, love, you'll get your vacation. How does a few eons, just you and me, sound?"

[greywritesfics]

Chapter Twenty-Three: Aura

As Minori walks toward U.A., she could feel the abundant amount of stares aimed at her, more so than usual, and she couldn't help but wonder what she had done to warrant this treatment. She kept her head down, eyes easily trained onto the ground as she walked, unable to meet people's gazes. And she felt her heart drop when children no older than six years old rushed up to her.

How did they know her? Weren't they too young? During the sports festival, when she was confronted with Toru's condemnation and pain, it was then she realized that people didn't just label her as a criminal, but they also blamed her for the deaths.

"You're Ki Minori, right?" one of the children asked, innocence dripping out through each syllable.

"Um, yes."

"I knew it!"

"Can we get an autograph?!"

"S-sorry?" Minori furrowed her eyebrows, her eyes flashing with confusion.

"Y'know an autograph-- your signature?"

"We watched you on T.V.. during the sports festival! I thought you were super cool, especially fighting that invisible person!"

"Well, I think you're cooler-- like when you fought that bird guy!" The children raised their hands in excitement, holding a pen, and the other had a notebook. Their eyes shining with enthusiasm and eagerness, and for a second, Minori seriously thought that this was some sort of sick prank, but as she watched the sheer genuineness stretch across their faces, she was convinced this was real.

Nodding, she squatted down to their level, grabbing the pen and paper, her eyes softening as she wrote her name. She kept a cool exterior for the children, but internally she was conflicted. Would it really be alright if she allowed herself to be selfish and accept their support?

As she handed back their things, a woman suddenly appeared before her, pulling the children back. Standing protectively in front of the kids, the woman spoke.

"S-sorry! My kids tend to get a little too excited at times," the mother apologized, a tentative smile gracing a skin, a stark contrast from her children's earlier liveliness. "Yui and Haruto, you guys can't run off like that! It could be dangerous." The second part was muttered in a harsh whisper, spoken with extreme hastiness, and just like that, Minori was reminded again about her origins.

Clenching her fists, she raised herself to her full height, feeling weak for believing she had a new chance in the first place, but that didn't last long. The two children dismissed their mother's hostility and wariness as they expressed their enthusiasm for meeting the girl, the warmth radiating off of them like the sun.

"Thank you!" they yelled in unison before quickly adding, "we'll be rooting for you!" as their mother dragged them away.

Paralyzed, Minori's striking silver-grey eyes watched their silhouettes disappear from her line of sight before she whispered to herself, "I'll be counting on it." And as she continued to walk back to school, she couldn't help but allow herself the right to be selfish.

***

The door slid open to reveal their homeroom teacher, on time, as every single student straightened up in their seat. Aizawa mumbled a quick good morning, exhaustion lacing his voice. Without the bandages encasing his face anymore, the jagged scar that marred his skin under his right eye elicited attention from the entire class as they stated their gratitude for his rapid recovery.

He shuffled into class, clearing his throat as he signaled the start of class. "We'll be doing something special today," Aizawa grumbled. His sentence evoking immense panic in many of the students as Kaminari audibly gulped, and Kirishima's brows pulled together as a clear droplet of sweat dripped down the side of his face. Each and every student anticipated the worst. "It's time to formulate your code names. Your hero names." The monotone lacing their homeroom teacher's tone was unmistakable, and nothing new. It's no surprise that Aizawa probably didn't care much for today's class.

With her remarkable hearing, she caught the sighs of relief echoing around the classroom. As everyone animatedly conversed about today's lesson, Minori glowered at her clenched fists from under her desk. "This is related to the draft nominations by pros I mentioned the other day. Here are the results." He pointed back at the board, showing the numbers as they appeared, and yet again, Minori was faced with crushing disappointment. She had hoped to forget about the offers, but it seemed Aizawa had other plans.

The first two names were unsurprisingly Bakugo and Todoroki, amassing a total of more than 7000 offers together, and although Todoroki had lost to Bakugo, he had a slightly higher amount than the latter. But when Minori had found her name on the list, she no longer glared at the screen. Instead, with her mouth agape and face full of wonder, she looked happy.

"Typically, the results are more balanced. But this year, all the attention leaned towards two of you." As Aizawa looked at his students, he met the eye of a particular individual seated at the back of the classroom. Her face didn't feign much emotion, but one look in her eyes, it was evident that she was overjoyed. Despite her upbringing and background, Minori managed to accumulate 40 offers from pro-heroes.

To anyone else, it might seem a bit odd for an individual to be so happy for only 40 offers, but to Minori, it was everything. There were actually pro heroes who were willing to work with her-- to open a new path. It was so much more than she thought she could ever get.

"Based on this, regardless of whether or not you received any nominations," Aizawa continued. "You'll still get some so-called 'work experience,'" sighing at the racket his students made, he took a short breath. "Placeholder names are fine, too, but something appropriate--"

He was interrupted by the sliding door's sound, and he sighed, knowing exactly who it was. "The names you pick now might become what you're known by the world as of now! So think carefully and choose wisely!"

Immediately, the intruder's identity was known, the class whispered in animated chatter as Mineta and Kaminari were instantly swooned by the arrival. "Midnight!"

While the class started whispering about their future names, Minori sat back, frozen. Somehow she had gotten offers, and her earlier incident this morning reminded her that people were willing to give her a chance, and she had been purely elated. Still, as soon as hero names had been brought up, Minori felt the familiar sense of dread come over her again.

It wasn't that Minori had never thought of a hero name; on the contrary, it was always an interest. But fear crawled across her skin in the form of goosebumps, and her insecurities riled in her throat like she was going to barf any moment.

"Now that Ms. Midnight's here, I'll be taking my leave," Aizawa muttered, retreating back into his sleeping bag. "And everyone, stay back after class, I need to speak to you all about something." Leaving his remark, he zipped his sleeping bag shut and withdrew to the room's corner.

In the back of the room, Minori stared at her board blankly, marker in hand. The day progressed as her classmates easily presented their names, some more unusual than others. The most interesting choice being Bakugo's hero name as he chose to go with King of Explodo Kills and Lord Explosion Murder. Even Minori had to stifle a laugh at the preposterous names. In the end, Bakugo was left with an unofficial hero name, but with the help of Midnight, his placeholder name, for now, would be Ground Zero.

Minori was the last student called up to present, and she immediately pushed down her thoughts, scribbling the name that wouldn't exit her mind into the board furiously. Making her way to where the 18+ rated hero stood, Midnight gave her an approving nod, gesturing to the front, a smile on her face.

She took her place behind the podium, "my hero name," Minori muttered, flipping her board for everyone to see. "Alternative Hero: Aura." Twenty pairs of eyes bore into her and her board, and Mina let out an encouraging smile from her seat. "The Hecate tragedy will be forever remembered, and in tribute to those who've lost their lives, my name is a reminder. Tatsumaki took countless lives as a villain, and as long as I'm here, her immoral actions are alive with me. The victims have been labeled as lost souls, but as Aura, their emanation surrounds me. I want to set myself apart from Tatsumaki and be recognized as a hero, an alternative of what could've been, of what I could've done. In honor of those who've lost their lives and those who had suffered losing a loved one, I promise to appreciate these souls in a newfound light as long as I live." As she uttered these words, she nodded her head at Toru's invisible figure, wearing the school uniform, giving her a silent message.

Your uncle will be remembered.

A/N: I always knew that Minori's hero name was going to be Aura because it was one of my first ideas! I thought of it because it reminds me of her Quirk, how the air and its molecules surround us like an emanation. See? :D

Taglist: @sslimkim​ @x-bakudeku-x​ @angeldraw​ @alex-hale666​ @iambashfulperson​ @somanyfandomsidek​ @sir-knight-slytherdor​ @seokookchan​ @namutheestallion​ @avengershavethetardis​ @honeybacon​ @fckngbored​ @ineedmyownname​ @myaaa-xoxoxox​ @mega-bastard​ @succulent-momma​ @can-i-just-like-it​ @soa1eater​