#like he fell through the veil separating life and death how crazy is that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

michaelbogild · 3 years

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Lines by Joanna Newsom

No one knows what is coming Or who will harvest what we have sewn Or how I've been dulling and dumbing In the service of the heart alone

Oh, silent, constant driver of mine: wordlessly calling from the end of the line, where, even though each hour I ever loved must queue and dive, still, you will not take my heart, alive.

And darling we will be fine but what was yours and mine appears to me a sandcastle that the gibbering wave takes But if it's all just the same then will you say my name? Say my name in the morning so that I know when the wave breaks

I fell, I tried to do well but I won't be. Will you tell the one that I love to remember and hold me?

See, I got gone when I got wise But I can't with certainty say we survived

Stay with me for awhile, that's an awfully real gun I know life will lay you down as the lightning has lately done

All we saw was that Time is taller than Space is wide

What happened to the man you were, when you loved somebody before her? Did he die? Or does that man endure, somewhere far away?

I don't know if you loved me most, but you loved me last.

Meanwhile, I will raise my own glass to how you made me fast and expendable And I will drink to your excellent health and your cruelty, will you have one on me?

It was a dark dream, darlin', it's over The firebreather is beneath the clover Beneath his breathing there is cold clay, forever A toothless hound-dog choking on a feather

the records they left are cryptic at best, lost in obsolescence.

The old veil of desire, like vessels that we fired, fell thin as eggshells.

But stand brave, life-liver, bleeding out your days in the river of time. Stand brave: time moves both ways, in the nullifying, defeating, negating, repeating joy of life;

Anyhow, I sat by your side, by the water You taught me the names of the stars overhead that I wrote down in my ledger Though all I knew of the rote universe were those Pleiades loosed in December I promised you I'd set them to verse, so I'd always remember

I called to you several times while the change took place and then arrived all night And I died But all these songs, when you and I are long gone, will carry on

That the meteorite is the source of the light and the meteor's just what we see And the meteoroid is a stone that's devoid of the fire that propelled it to thee And the meteorite's just what causes the light and the meteor's how it's perceived And the meteoroid's a bone thrown from the void, that lies quiet in offering to thee

Hardly seen, hardly felt– deep down where your fight is waiting, down 'till the light in your eyes is fading:

There's a big black spider hanging over my door Can't go anywhere, anymore

Who asked you? Asked you if you want to be Loved by me? Who died and made you in charge of who loves who?

And I saw straight away that the lay was steep But I fell for you, honey, as easy as falling asleep And that right there is the course I keep

And the tilt of this strange nation And the will to remain for the duration Waving the flag Feeling it drag

Hey, hey, hey, the end is near On a good day you can see the end from here But I won't turn back now though the way is clear I will stay for the remainder

You froze in your sand shoal, prayed for your poor soul Sky was a bread roll, soaking in a milk-bowl And when the bread broke, fell in bricks of wet smoke My sleeping heart woke, and my waking heart spoke

And it's my heart, not me, who cannot drive At which conclusion you arrived Watching me sit here bolt upright and cry For no good reason at the Eastering sky

bearing weight, taking fire, trading smokes, in the war between us and our ghosts.

And every little gust that chances through will dance in the dust of me and you, with joy-of-life.

We broke our hearts in the war between St. George and the dragon But both in equal parts are welcome to come along I'm inviting everyone

By the time you read this, I will be so far away Daddy Longlegs, how in the world am I to be expected to stay? In the night, in the night, you may hear me call Pa, stay your hand and steel your resolve, stay where you are, so long and tall

Our nature does not change by will In the winter, 'round the ruined mill The creek is lying flat and still It is water, though it's frozen

Our lived come easy and our lives come hard. We carry them like a pack of cards: some we don't use, but we don't discard, but keep for a rainy day.

Until the night is over, hold on, hold on Hold your horses back from the fickle dawn

I am easy Easy to keep Honey, you please me Even in your sleep But my arms want to carry My heart wants to hold Tell me your worries, I want to be told

There is a blacksmith and there is a shepherd and there is a butcher-boy And there is a barber, who's cutting and cutting away at my only joy

And that is all I want here To draw my gaunt spirit to bow Beneath what I am allowed

How I said to you, "Honey, just open your heart" When I've got trouble even opening a honey jar And that right there is where we are

My heart is a furnace full of love that's just, and earnest Now, you know that we must unlearn this

Squint skyward and listen Loving him, we move within his borders Just asterisms in the stars' set order

"Do you love me? Will you remember?" The snow falls above me. The renderer renders: "The event is in the hand of God".

And I been 'fessing double fast Addressing questions nobody asked I'll get this joy off of my chest at last And I will love you 'til the noise has long since passed

With your hands in your pockets, stubbly running To where I'm unfresh, undressed and yawning Well, what is this craziness? This crazy talking? You caught some small death when you were sleepwalking

And there was a booming above you That night, black airplanes flew over the sea And they were lowing and shifting like beached whales Shelled snails, as you strained and you squinted to see The retreat of their hairless and blind cavalry

You ranged real hot and real cold but I'm sold I am home on that range And I do hate to fold Right here at the top of my game

Then down and down and down and down and down and deeper Stoke, without sound, the blameless flames, you endless sleeper Through fire below and fire above, and fire within Sleep through the things that couldn't have been if you had not have been

You burned me like a barn I burned safe and warm in your arms

All the way to the thing we've been playing at, darlin' I can see that you're wearing your staying hat, darlin' For the time being all is well Won't you love me a spell?

And when the fire moves away Fire moves away, son Why would you say I was the last one?

And I rose, to take my shape at last, from the dreams that had dogged me, through every past, when, to my soul, the body would say You may do what you like, as long as you stay.

And, in your kindness, you put me straightaway in the cupboard with a bottle of champagne And then, later, on a train

Well I wish we could take every path I could spend a hundred years adoring you Yes, I wish we could take every path because you know I hated to close the door on you

And then a slow lip of fire moves across the prairie with precision While somewhere with your pliers and glue, you make your first incision And in a moment of almost unbearable vision, doubled over with the hunger of lions "Hold me close," cooed the dove, who was stuffed now with sawdust and diamonds

In martial wind, and in clarion rain, we minced into battle, wincing in pain; not meant for walking, backs bound in twine: not angel or devil, but level, in time.

The text will not yield, nor x-ray reveal with any fluorescence where the hand of the master begins and ends.

When cruel death debases, we believe it erases all the rest that precedes.

What’s redacted will repeat, and you cannot learn that you burn when you touch the heat, so we touch the heat, and we cut facsimiles of love and death (just separate holes in sheets where you cannot breathe, and you cannot see).

Here, the light will seep And the scythe will reap And spirit will rend In counting toward the end

All the livelong day If I have my way, I will love you But one can't carry the weight Or change the fate of two I've been waiting for a break How long's it gonna take? Let me love you

But it don't make no difference, now, and no-one's listening, anyhow, and lists of sins and solemn vows don't make you any friends.

I have got some business out at the edge of town Candy weighing both of my pockets down Till I can hardly stay afloat, from the weight of them And knowing how the common folk condemn What it is I do, to you, to keep you warm Being a woman, being a woman

And it pains me to say, I was wrong. Love is not a symptom of time. Time is just a symptom of love

Where i know that you can yield, when it comes down to it; bow like the field when the wind combs through it:

But though I tried so hard my little darling I couldn't keep the night from coming in

All along the road, the lights stream by. I want to go where the dew won’t dry. I want to go where the light won’t bend– far as the eye may reach–nor end.

I can't claim that I knew you best, but did you know me at all?

But it's mine. Or, at least, it's lent. And my life, until the time is spent is a pin-light, bent.

Though the long road begins and ends with you I cannot seem to make amends with you

In the folds and the branches, somewhere, out there, I was only just born into open air. Now hush, little babe. You don’t want to be down in the trenches, remembering with me, where you will not mark my leaving, and you will not hear my parting song. Nor is there cause for grieving. Nor is there cause for carrying on.

But inasmuch as that light is loaned, and, insofar as we’ve borrowed bones, must every debt now be repaid in star-spotted, sickle-winged night raids, while we sing to the garden, and we sing to the stars, and we sing in the meantime, wherever you are?

Rowing along, among the reeds, among the rushes I heard your song, before my heart had time to hush it

Easy, easy You must not fear You must meet me to see me I am barely here But like a Bloody Mary Seen in the mirror Speak my name And I appear

And the little white dove made with love, made with love made with glue and a glove and some pliers Swings a low sickle arc from its perch in the dark, settle down, settle down my desire

In our lives is a common sense that relies on the common fence that divides, and attends, but provides scant defense from the Great Light that shine through a pin-hole, when the pin-light calls itself Selfhood, and the Selfhood inverts on a mirror in an Amora Obscura.

When I've been trying with my whole heart and soul To stay right here in the right lane But it can make you feel over and old Lord, you know it's a shame When I only want for you to pull over and hold me Till I can't remember my own name

Then in my hot hand, she slumped her sick weight We tramped through the poison oak, heartbroke and inchoate The dogs were snapping, and you cuffed their collars While I climbed the tree-house, then how I hollered

At night, I walk in the park with a whip between the lines of the whispering Jesuits Who are poisoning you against me

And what do you remember most? The line of the sea, seceding the coast? Fine capillaries, glowing with cars? The comfort you drew from the light of the stars?

Failing this, failing this, follow me, my sweetest friend To see what you anointed in pointing your gun there Lay it down, nice and slow, there is nowhere to go

it was dark out, I was half-dead I saw a star fall into the sky like a chunk of thrown coal as if God himself spat like a cornered rat

but honey it’s been a long time since I’ve come to any use. And it hurt me bad, when I heard the news that you’d got that call, and could not refuse.

But always up the mountainside you're clambering Groping blindly, hungry for anything Picking through your pocket linings, well, what is this? Scrap of sassafras, eh Sisyphus?

Come across the desert with no shoes on I love you truly or I love no-one

And when I cut your hair and leave the birds all of the trimmings I am the happiest woman among all women

You asked my hand, hired a band "In your heart is all that you need Ask and you will receive," it is said I threw my bouquet and I knocked 'em dead

Haven't you seen what I've seen? Don't you know what you ought to do? I was born to love And I intend to love you

The borders of the land that man has girded All double-bolted and tightfisted Until we reach the open country A-steeped in milk and honey Will you keep your fancy clothes on, for me? Can you bear a little longer to wear that leash? My love, I swear by the air I breathe Sooner or later, you'll bare your teeth

From the top of the flight of the wide white stairs Through the rest of my life, do you wait for me there? There's a bell in my ears, there's a wide white roar Drop a bell down the stairs, hear it fall forever more Hear it fall forever more

And no amount of talking is going to soften the fall But, like after the rain, step out if the overhang, that's all It had a nice a ring to it when the ole opry house rang So with a solemn auld lang Signed, sealed, delivered, I sang And there is hesitation and it always remains Concerning you, me And the rest of the gang And in our quiet hour I feel I see everything And am in love with the hook upon which everyone hangs And I know you meant to show the extent To which you gave a god dang

Beyond recall, you severed all strings to everyone, and everything.

And in an infinite regress: Tell me, why is the pain of birth lighter borne than the pain of death? I ain't saying that I loved you first, but I loved you best.

And though our bones they may break and our souls separate, why the long face? And though our bodies recoil from the grip of the soil, why the long face?"

I think you saw their flares and kept me safely unawares In your arms

But there is nothing I adore apart from that whore's black heart

But I took my fishing pole, fearing your fever Down to the swimming hole, where there grows a bitter herb That blooms but one day a year, by the riverside, I'd bring it here Apply it gently to the love you've lent me

See how the infinite divides: and the divers are not to blame for the rift, spanning distant shores. You don't know my name, but I know yours.

We are tested and pained By what's beyond our bed We are blessed and sustained By what is not said

The wandering eye that I have caught Is as hot as a wandering sun But I will want for nothing more in my garden, start again In my hardening to every heart but one

So, across the years and miles and through On a good day you can feel my love for you Will you leave me be so that we can stay true To the path that you have chosen?

But for now, just dance, darling C'mon, will you dance, my darling? Darling, there's a place for us Can we go, before I turn to dust?

I see the blossoms broke and wet after the rain Little sister, he will be back again I have washed a thousand spiders down the drain Spiders' ghosts hang, soaked and Dangling silently, from all the blooming cherry trees In tiny nooses, safe from everyone Nothing but a nuisance, gone now, dead and done Be a woman, be a woman

I had a dream that i walked in the garden of Chabot, and those telescope ruins. It was there that I called to my true love, who was pale as millennial moons, Honey, where did you come by that wound?

Rushing, tearing, speeding home: bound to a wheel that is not my own, where round every bend I long to see temporal infidelity.

My mind is failing and my body grows weak My lips won't form the words I speak I'm floating away on a barrel of pain New York City won't see me again

Save up, up where the light, undiluted, is weaving In a drunk dream at the sight of my baby, out back Back on the patio, watching the bats bring night in While, elsewhere, estuaries of wax-white Wend, endlessly, towards seashores unmapped

Bleached the night with dawn deleting In that high sun after our good run When the spirit bends Beneath knowing it must end

Recall the word you gave: to count your way across the depths of this arid world, where you would yoke the waves, and lay a bed of shining pearls!

When the sky goes pink in Paris, France, do you think of the girl who used to dance when you'd frame her moving within your hands, saying This I won't forget?

Hey little leaf, lying on the ground Now you're turning slightly brown Why don't you get up on the tree Turn the color green the way you ought to be

Now the towns and forests, highways and plains, fall back in circles like an emptying drain. And I won't come round this way again, where the lonely wind abides, and you will not take my heart, alive. You will not take my heart.

I saw a rabbit as slick as a knife and as pale as a candlestick And I had thought it'd be harder to do but I caught her, and skinned her quick

I said a sort of prayer for some rare grace Then thought I ought to take her to a higher place Said, "Dog nor vulture nor cat shall toy with you And though you die, bird, you will have a fine view"

till we hear the telltale Boom, too soon– hotdogging loon, caught there like a shard of mirror in the moon!

There's an old trick played, when the light and the wine conspire to make me think I'm fine. I'm not, but I have got half a mind to maybe get there, yet.

It was dark, I was drunk and half-dead and we slept, knocking heads

And the moment I slept, I was swept up in a terrible tremor Though no longer bereft, how I shook and I couldn't remember And then the furthermost shake, drove a murdering stake in and cleft me right down through my center And I shouldn't say so but I know that it was then or never

Down in the valley where the fields are green Watch my luck turn, fro, and to Pluck every last daisy clean till only I may love you

I saw a life and I called it mine I saw it drawn so sweet and fine And I had begun to fill in all the lines Right down to what we'd name her

I wasn't born of a whistle or milked from a thistle at twilight No, I was all horns and thorns, sprung out fully formed, knock-kneed and upright So enough of this terror we deserve to know light and grow evermore lighter and lighter You would have seen me through but I could not undo that desire

A goose, alone, I suppose, can know the loneliness of geese, who never find their peace,whether north, or south, or west, or east

I'll hunt the pearl of death to the bottom of my life, and ever hold my breath, till I may be the diver's wife.

I call and call for the doctor but the snow swallows me whole with ol' Florry Walker and the event lives only in print.

This is blindness beyond all conceiving Well, behind us the road is leaving, yeah, leaving And falling back Like a rope gone slack

Bottle of white, bottle of red Helpless as a child, when you held me in your arms And I knew that no other could ever love me as you loved Love me as you loved but help me, I'm leaving

Dig a little hole not three inches round Spit your pit in a hole in the ground Weep upon the spot for the starving of me Till up grows a fine young cherry tree When the bough breaks, what'll you make for me?

But I saw the Bering Strait and the Golden Gate, in silent suspension of their golden age

And everything sloped like it was dragged from a rope in the mouth of the south below

Do you remember staring up at the stars So far away in their bulletproof cars?

I found a little plot of land in the garden of Eden It was dirt and dirt is all the same I tilled it with my two hands and I called it my very own There was no one to dispute my claim

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keiths3dart · 3 years

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Max in the Black Lodge

Wondering whether to dust this old chestnut off, i have 5 episodes complete so far.

Max in the Black Lodge, a Life is Strange / Twin Peaks Mashup.

Note: For Black Lodge dialogue, the text reads Left - Right as normal but the individual words are reversed and read Right - Left. e.g: AIROTCIV SEVOL EHT D = VICTORIA LOVES THE D

Part 1

The wind was blustery that night, speeding through the tree canopy overhead with a constant high pitched hiss like a detuned radio, punctuated here and there by the hooting of owls.

She’d been warned about the owls. What she hadn’t been warned about was just how noisy it could be. In the middle of nowhere. In the middle of the night. And she was already tense. Hella tense.

She’d been tense ever since the prickly subject of Rachel Amber had been raised, she always was, always knew the hold Rachel still held over her lover’s heart and yes Goddammit, she was jealous, and resentful, and insecure, and a lot of other things that might make someone judgemental but Max Caulfield had never claimed to be perfect, never claimed to be someone she wasn’t. She had faults and where she hadn’t learned from them, she had paid for them. Dearly in some cases, repeatedly in others, and blessedly temporarily in certainly the worst she had suffered.

Max scanned the inky blackness for the telltale flickering beam of the flashlight she knew Chloe would be using to see her way around the forest. Finding no sign, she illuminated her own torch as a beacon to her own location.

“Chloe, where the actual fuck are you?” she cursed into the wind.

Chloe had, naturally, gotten separated from Max in the forest, being focussed to the point of obsession with investigating the location provided by the old woman in the Double R. Well, not the woman per se, but actually her log.

Apparently, it is a long, strange, and sad story according to Shelley, their waitress that morning. Apparently also, this was not the first message to be related via the incongruous length of fir and that “when she said, it said, you should listen closely”.

“Max Caulfield?” she had said, approaching their table as Max and Chloe were enjoying what was arguably the best huckleberry pie in the pacific northwest.

“My Log has something to tell you”.

Chloe and Max had looked at each other, each wondering which one of them had the number for the local psychiatric assessment unit, the wondering becoming outright longing when the woman had leant in close to Max and whispered;

“Rachel is lost in the Ghostwood, and the owls are watching. You must find the Doe and free it”.

The smart and indeed sensible thing for Max to have done at this point would have been to have discounted every word this obviously crazy old woman was saying, but..

Yes, there was always a “but”.

But how did she know who Max was? she had addressed her by name, had known they were looking for Rachel, had somehow known about Rachel’s link to the Doe that Max had repeatedly seen during her week of time travelling, and that their original reason for driving Chloe’s ailing pickup all the way from Arcadia Bay to the isolated logging town of Twin Peaks deep in the woods, nestled just a few miles from the Canadian border, was because when Rachel’s boyfriend / drug dealer Frank Bowers had returned to Arcadia Bay sans Rachel, he had said that they had been in Twin Peaks and that Rachel had upped and vanished following an argument between the pair.

Chloe had insisted they head off immediately despite the failing light

Max had wanted to wait until morning, had wanted to tell the Sheriff who they were searching for and to get some local collateral.

But Chloe was the very definition of headstrong and a clue to Rachel’s whereabouts along with a veiled insinuation that she may be in peril, even if it came from a lump of wood was enough to free her from any semblance of self control.

Ghostwood was an area of forest formerly supplying the local lumber mill, now lying untouched after the plans of its new owner to construct a tourist complex within the woods fell through sometime in the early 90’s. It was a dark imposing land, densely packed with quick growing conifers and with barely a few forestry trails to travel. It was not a natural and safe environment to go padding about in the middle of the night at the best of times and certainly not in a hoodie and chucks.

Max had stopped. She’d hurt her foot stumbling over a protruding root. Fuck this to fucking fuck, she thought.

“CHLOE!!!” she yelled into the night, but she might as well have whispered, the shout sounded so dampened in the dense forest that she doubted anyone outside of the little clearing she found herself in would have heard her.

The clearing was a smallish area ringed by what looked in the gloom to be Maple or more likely Sycamore trees with the remains of a stone circle around a charred area on the ground. Obviously, an old campfire site. Max resolved to stay there. Reaching her destination she reasoned was a lot less of an imperative than finding her wayward bluenette. And if she stayed in the clearing and perhaps even set a fire in the circle, Chloe, following the same set of directions as Max had been would be able to locate the clearing.

And her.

Max hobbled towards the fireplace, the pain in her ankle easing off somewhat. The hooting of Owls punctuated the night as Max looked towards the edge of the clearing, the darkness forming a wall around her. Max suppressed a chuckle, in a certain light it looked more like a heavy deep red curtain, like a cinema drape.

The Owls continued their hooting.

Chloe had gotten separated from Max, and this discomfited her. She knew how jittery Max could become when Chloe was, let’s be honest here, out of rewinding range. Conversations and situations which (from Chloe’s perspective) went perfectly fine but nonetheless culminated in baleful glances from Max as she dabbed at the blood trickling from her nose illustrated full well how much Max looked out for her, smoothing her journey through life. And Chloe loved her for it. But Max could never see that. However deep Chloe’s feelings for her former lover were, Chloe understood and appreciated totally how Max sacrificed herself time and time again for her whereas Rachel had sacrificed her relationship with Chloe to pursue her own happiness. To a girl with abandonment issues, the difference between lust and love was important to know.

But Chloe still pursued Rachel with borderline obsession not for the reasons Max feared but largely out of self-preservation. Rachel and Chloe were inextricably intertwined, as were their fates, and if anything fatal happened to her.... Well there were limits to Max’s powers and Chloe, currently into double figures as regards violent deaths, wanted very much to stay alive.

The most important thing, Chloe decided was to find Max, they couldn't have gotten separated by much but nevertheless, Chloe could see no sign of Max's flashlight, had received no reply to her calls, and had heard nothing from her. They couldn't be that far apart, but then again any sound other than the trees and those fucking owls seemed to be swallowed up by the murk.

Chloe swung her flashlight to and fro, looking for a path through the trees, finding the undergrowth to her left slightly more passable, she headed off in that direction.

And walked straight into the two men she'd failed to notice following a barely discernible footpath northwards.

Max was busy in the clearing, she'd put down her bag and was in the process of setting a small campfire in the stone circle. She fumbled around looking for dry kindling then arranging it in the fireplace, there was a small scrap of paper, presumably left over from a previous fire. Something familiar about it caught her eye so she picked it up.

Shining her flashlight on it revealed it's secret and Max froze. Hypnotised by the text spiralling round to a black blob in the centre. That blob reminded her of something. An image came to her mind. A crude graffiti tag written in black Sharpie. Two phrases now swam in her mind;

“Hole to another universe”.

“Max in the Black Lodge”.

There was a ripple in the darkness, the red drapes she fancied she saw beyond the clearing parted, the piece of paper fluttered to the ground.

Max was gone.

#llifeisstrange #life is strange #life is strange fanfiction #pricefield #max caulfield #chloe price #twin peaks #fanfic

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corinthbayrpg · 4 years

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NAME. Leonidas Karatasos AGE & BIRTH DATE. Currently 33, reincarnated on August 11th, 1986 GENDER & PRONOUNS. Male & He/Him SPECIES. Kobalos OCCUPATION. Owner of Hypnos FACE CLAIM. Scott Eastwood

BIOGRAPHY

( tw: war, death, violence, drinking, assault, homophobia, fire, madness ) When Leonidas was born in a small village on the outskirts of Thebes in ancient Greece, he never would have imagined to still be alive an eternity later. He was a lively child, with a knack for games and jokes, a huge smile on his face and a devilish glint in his eyes. He was born into a family that had partaken in the village’s belief in Dionysus for years before he was born. They praised the god of madness and ecstasy day and night and constantly celebrated him. They were known to be just as ecstatic as their god was supposed to be, leading ritualistic dances and sing songs through nights and days. While they thought they believed in the only true religion, and praised the best god there was, outside of their little world many frowned upon them. They were belittled, as well as beaten and laughed at. Other people around Thebes watched them with both worry and disgust. And despite that, Leonidas never wavered in the strong belief that had been burnt into his mind from the moment he was born. It did not matter that the rest of the world thought he was one with a group of crazy people. He would still whisper about it into the ears of those who would listen once he was old enough, ready to spread the belief to anyone who had an open ear for him. He would still take a beating, and rise from it to celebrate another feast for Dionysus.

Though even within the group of the small village, Leonidas was often the one who didn’t like to be in the middle of it all. He liked being just outside of the light, dancing in shadows, and observing some of the more extreme rituals the others partook in. While he was a fan of a life with no boundaries, he sometimes felt bad for the fact that they would plug people from their own lives as if they were no longer needed. He would have gladly stolen a loaf of bread from them, but their entire life? It did not stop him from having fun, of indulging in those aspects of the belief that especially appealed to him. For Leonidas, there was no way he would ever leave them, and so he was still in the only space he thought he belonged when Dionysus finally listened to their prayers. Being granted powers by the god they had prayed to for so long now seemed almost like a surreal dream – but who would say no to the gift of immortality?

The villagers were gifted not only that but also the ability to trick whoever they wanted and conjure illusions by looking into another pair of eyes. The man who was in his mid-twenties at the time couldn’t quite believe his luck. Finally, he had an easy time paying back those that wronged him and those he held close to his heart. He reveled in getting to trick them, in driving them mad when he thought they deserved it. In the end, his first mortal life was still ended by another human who despised the villagers, and beat him until no life was left in his body. He was reincarnated into the village that had always been his home and would be his home once again. While living there, Leonidas loved to connect to the plants around him, learning about their healing abilities and how to use them, while still using his trickster abilities to their fullest. He was hardly seen without an amused sparkle in his eyes or a laugh on his lips. He was good at spreading joy, even better at masking his feelings when he didn’t feel it for once. Back in those days, he thought life could go on like this forever and ever. But of course, it did not. It was between 339 and 338 BC that his life was turned upside down by the war against Philip II of Macedon. Leonidas did not care much about the politics behind the war, though that changed once Thebes was overrun, his family of villagers ripped apart, and most of them sold into slavery. He had a burning hatred for what had happened to the perfect life he lived, and he swore he would never turn a blind eye to politics again. Rich men with great monologues should not rule over those less fortunate.

Leonidas was bought by a young man who was rich and striving to rise up in power to impress his father and his wife-to-be. Little did he know who he had let into his home, for Leonidas hardly wasted any time in using his powers to get himself out of slavery. He used mostly his glamour, but also his silk tongue to whisper promises and stories into his owner’s ears until he no longer believed him to be a slave, but an equal. It was by his side that he managed to get a foot in the door of the regime of Alexander The Great. However, the Kobaloi didn’t make it very far in his quest to undermine the regime, as he found his fate once more by a blade cutting his neck when the man who originally bought him was attacked.

Being reincarnated into the life of a man who became a soldier before he remembered his wish to drive anyone mad who let others fight for them, he once again found himself in the middle of a war. Despite using whatever trick he had up his sleeve, Leonidas didn’t make it far while Alexander The Great was fighting his wars. He fought and fell, just another soldier who died. By the time Alexander died, Leonidas had been reincarnated once more, already irritated with the sensation. He found himself still sticking in Greece, though no longer near his home that Thebes had once been. Now he found himself as part of the Aetolian League, residing in Athens. But the young Kobaloi never actually felt an alliance with anyone. Over time, he slipped from the Aetolian League to the Achaean league, changing his home and supposed alliance to be able to drive the conquering groups mad. He managed to make his way towards those leading wars and fights, giving suggestions on their strategies, while doing the same to the other side not long after. Leonidas, who had originally intended to help out those who were less fortunate, got lost in the pleasure of fueling chaos and madness. He would whisper his way into beds of important people, create illusions to get them to do what he wanted. He enjoyed it, and every death he died throughout the years was worth it. Soldier, advisor, lover, trickster.

But there was one thing that truly messed up his plans and his will to only live for the chaos he could create: finding his soulmate. It was the last thing he had expected to ever happen to him, someone who had very much enjoyed sexual freedom up until that moment, but it took only one look at the man’s face and his heart was captured in an instant – and would never let go of this feeling for the rest of his lives. While Leonidas was gifted an immortal life and reincarnation, the one he chose to fall for lived a very different timeline. The time they got to spend together was never enough before his beloved was called into a veil Leonidas could not quite fathom with his thoughts, forced to stay away from him. Sometimes they got to spend more years together, sometimes barely any time at all. It always seemed to take an excruciatingly long time before they got to reunite, and it drove Leonidas mad. They were apart more than they were together it seemed, and that was unfair in the eyes of the furious Kobaloi. Every time they got separated over the years, he would unleash his emotions in the form of more madness. He made his way through Europe but always made his way back to Greece as if feeling its call. He slipped from court to court, from regime to regime, often masking himself as a charming young man who only had everyone else’s best interest at heart. The reality was, he thrived on making everyone else suffer when his own heart was burning. He loved ruining lives because his own seemed so very broken. When he didn’t find himself among those more fortunate, he was often reincarnated into the life of a man who was fighting yet another war, the pain in his heart overshadowed by that of the violence real life had to offer.

That was his routine for too many centuries. Die painful deaths at war, see excruciating pain, find himself in slavery – or celebrate debaucherous feasts full of ecstasy and madness while driving the rich and influential against one another, and in between that, meet the love of his life only to lose him over and over again. From extreme high to extreme lows, it shouldn’t have been surprising that he suffered. Leonidas mind sometimes didn’t differ so much from those he had driven mad with his own powers. He was angry at the world and angry at the god who had given him these powers – apparently to do nothing more but suffer and see others suffer.

The Kobaloi was the reason for quite a few monarchs going mad over the centuries. Those who loved to torture and throw great feasts often found Leonidas in their court. None of them would have said phrases like “Qu'ils mangent de la brioche” or refer to choices that were sure to make people hate them. He was one of the people King Charles VI of France listened to when enough alcohol was coursing through his system, plenty of his more bizarre moments stemming from conversations with Leonidas. He left the court of King Charles VI in 1393 after a celebration later on known as “ball of the burning men”. Leonidas had fueled the idea of the king to show up to a wedding with some of his men dressed as wildlings, covered in pitch. Four of them ended up burning to death. Leonidas couldn’t have cared less.

Two centuries later, Leonidas was also the reason why Emperor Rudolf II developed a severe case of paranoia. The Kobaloi found it delighting to tell the man that everyone wanted to overthrow and kill him – while his words partly held truth, they were also partly an illusion to make the emperor insecure. And it worked. Leonidas watched from the sidelines as Rudolf II was called unstable and unpredictable. He helped the emperor find people to fuel his love for the occult, watching with glee how he threw himself into false information about the supernatural world, while the real problem was sitting right next to him. Leonidas left the man shortly before he was overthrown by his brother, having lost interest in the man once more. His next life he spent at the court of Queen Christina of Sweden, finding joy in a woman who so clearly held no interest in what was expected of her as a Queen. He helped her dress up in men’s clothing and covered for her when she led women into her bedrooms. It was her who brought him back to Greece eventually, where he settled in Rome until he was hunted and his life ended because some of his neighbors suspected him to be a witch.

With every death, with every monarch driven mad, with every war fought, and with every separation from the love of his life, his sanity seemed to wear thinner. Not many of his deaths were caused by his lack of carelessness when it came to his sexual desires, his celebrations, or his madness. While death had lost all meaning to him over the centuries, dying still didn’t become any easier. Leonidas absolutely hated it, and once again wondered why a god would have given him this sort of gift only to suffer.

Despite his despair, he mostly stuck to Greece since the late 19th century, noticing the call of the veil in Corinth Bay. He lived in the town for some years, before moving elsewhere, feeling unsettled and bored quickly. But he had seen so much of the world already, he didn’t know what else would be able to impress him. From time to time his old love for tricking people around him would burn up with a newfound, undying passion, and it was in those moments that Leonidas would often say he could never get tired of playing games.

But during this time period, he eventually completely lost that spark. Nowadays, he would say that a soul simply is not made to survive forever, and be reborn over and over again. He had seen too much sorrow, and no matter how much he held onto the side of him that was careless and fun-loving, seeing plenty of people he liked die didn’t help either. One could say he suffered through quite a few mid-life crises, those highs, and lows of his never easy to watch. When he lost his lover to death once more, cursed to spend another 100 years without him in the early 20th century, he was simply tired of it all. With no real meaning in life anymore, it sometimes felt like a nuisance to have to go on. Days seemed grey, and any joy of tricking people was lost on him all over again. Leonidas still did it, but it seemed to be as much of a nuisance as everything else. He had lost his fire and passion for life, and a part of him wished that he could just get rid of his reincarnation.

The last time Leonidas died, it was one of his more heroic deaths. He had saved a young woman from a group of men assaulting her, and was stabbed to death on his way home when they recognized him as someone who had kissed a man in the same bar as them not too long ago. Leonidas died, and his gloomy mind stayed with him when he was reincarnated in August 1986. While an older version of himself would have been ecstatic to see the way the world changed, became more open-minded, celebrated festivals and parties, he now attended without seeing any real meaning to it. Where was the point when he had done all of it over and over again? He was missing a part of himself and missing a life that wasmeaningful.

He did not think that Dionysus would ever come into play again. He had given up on his god forever ago, when he stayed silent through too much suffering and too many prayers. Therefore, being called to Corinth Bay where he had lived several times in the past with the promise of a war between Gods, he didn’t know what to expect. He wanted to be mad at Dionysus, mad at these gods fighting each other at the hands of others. While it’s not his first time in the city, he can’t remember ever seeing it crowded by so many supernatural creatures, or with so much brewing underneath the surface. He took over a place he had owned in the past, now a cocktail bar named Hypnos. It was no big trick for him to get the lease signed over to him once more, using the place to judge people, trick them, and figure out which side he really wanted to be on. He is ready to fight – whether he has done more than enough of that in his lifetime or not.

PERSONALITY

+ playful, open-minded, loyal - vengeful, irresponsible, cynical

PLAYED BY LISA. GMT+1. She/Her.

#lisa

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softjeon · 6 years

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Through the Veil | Pt. 13

• Pairing: Yoongi x Jungkook • Genre: Angst / Fluff | demon!AU (→ Gifset Trailer) • Words: 5,6k | Co-Writer: Cat @cassiavioletblue ↳ (AO3) • Disclaimer: mentioning of alcohol and violence / death / graphic content

↳ Jungkook is pretty sure that he is a normal human being, but he is also sure that this book, he got from his grandma, is a cookbook. So when it turns out that the words he's reciting are not to cook some tasty meal but to summon something from the depth of the underworld - then maybe there are a few more suprises for him in stock. « previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter »

A coldness crept into him, chilling him clear to the bone. Never in his life had he felt so cold. Yoongi dreaded and welcomed the day at the same time, when his heart could no longer bear the loneliness and would just break in half. He had heard of humans dying because of a broken heart before. He knew that he was slowly going crazy but that was how he felt. He needed him near. It all meant nothing without Jungkook.

Yoongi didn’t even know where to begin anymore. Every night and every day, the only thing on his mind was Jungkook. One day Hoseok had only chuckled at the way that someone like Jungkook could bring one of the strongest demons to his fucking knees. But Jungkook did just that. And Yoongi hated it that he had faked a smile and just went on, doing his work, so he could go back to his cave as fast as he could. To be on his own. Suffering. Longing for the angel boy.

Every day was getting harder, as he could feel how awful Jungkook felt. The bond was telling him to go look for him, to see if his ‘master’ was all right, but he couldn’t. There was no way he could. It was the worse at nights for Jungkook and the demon could feel the pain and suffering with every fiber of his heart. It drained him. He got restless and fidgety and irritated.

Soon Yoongi had established quite the reputation for himself of being completely unratable and highly dangerous. He could go from completely aggressive and violent (when the pain he felt made him lose his mind a little) to soft and sad and almost caring (when he remembered Jungkookie’s softness or how the younger had brought out the best in him). Persephone almost seemed to like it and she definitely found it entertaining to let him lose on her enemies or disobedient servants while never really knowing how he would react and what he would do.

At night Yoongi had made a habit of sleeping curled up around Jungkook’s clothes who had smelled less and less of the angel boy until they were just what they had been before. Simple, useless pieces of cloth, he didn’t care for. He ripped them to pieces in anger, screaming out his pain and sobbing quietly into the pillows after. Pillows that he stole from the palace because Jungkook had slept on them.

Unlike the demon, Jungkook had nothing to hold on to. All he had was the aching in his chest that only got worse and worse. He tried to hold on to the thought of seeing the demon again, that he was missing him just as much but the longer they were separated the more doubts creeped into his mind. The words of the schakal repeating itself in his mind, even though Yoongi had told him otherwise, but still…sometimes…when the night has been too long and the nightmares too much, he couldn’t help but lose himself in these thoughts.

The lack of concentration at work had made his boss warn him twice by now and Jungkook really tried to better himself but it only gotten worse. Sometimes he fell asleep on the floor, looking out of the window and hoping that Yoongi would come. He even let the window open once or twice, not caring how cold it was getting the more days passed. Until one month was gone. And then another.

On days he couldn’t feel the bond as much, Jungkook was holding up, pretending to be alright but as soon as he could feel just a tiny bit of emotion from the other – he was done for. A whimpering mess on the floor. Crying out at night for the other. Jungkook felt pathetic. He had promised the demon to be strong and yet, here he was. Jungkook barely could hold himself up anymore and even the concealer couldn’t hide the red puffy eyes anymore. It felt like the heartache was slowly killing him from the inside. Very slowly, he waddled over to the calendar that was hanging on the wall. Another day had passed. Another ‘X’ was drawn onto the paper. Jungkook let himself fall onto the floor, rubbing his eyes that felt so awfully dry from crying.

It was supposed to get better. People always said that “time heals everything”. And especially Yoongi, a demon, someone practically designed to dismiss emotions quickly it should have been easy to just go on like normal. He would see Jungkook again after all. Just five years. Five little years, the blink of an eye. And still time had never stretched out so torturously long before. Never.

Yoongi felt like he was losing his mind.

And then he considered cheating. Even though Persephone was letting him punish disobedient servants on a regular basis he still considered going against her rules. He would sneak out and then he would see Jungkook and then… then he wouldn’t be able to stay with Jungkook. Because Persephone would come after him and she would kill Jungkook slowly in front of his eyes just to make a point. They could maybe run - but then Jungkook would have to be on the run for the rest of his life, never safe, always on edge. He didn’t want that kind of life for him. Jungkook deserved better. So much better. So, there was nothing else for him to do but wait.

However, he just... just couldn’t. He knew he wouldn’t be able to endure it. He would literally go crazy because of it. Or he would start to make mistakes, or enemies so that in the end he might get killed off before he even had a chance to see Jungkook again. There had to be another way. This couldn’t be it. There had to be something that he could do. But he came up empty. So, he asked the fairy.

“So, tell me again,” The fairy said, tapping his finger on his chin in thought, “Persephone made you separate, because the bond can’t be broken anymore but Jungkook can’t stay in the underworld otherwise he would wither away and now you have to live without each other.” When Yoongi hummed in response, the fairy chuckled low, “You know I should have bet that you would fall in love. I knew it would happen. Now I’m mad that I didn’t. I would have made so much money.” Realizing that the demon on the other end of the line was quite desperate and not liking his jokes (considering his low growl) he quickly got himself together, “So what do you need me from me?”

“I need to know if there’s another way that we can see each other more often. Any way, really. I don’t want him to be killed or turned into a demon so please stroke that off your list. And betraying Persephone is out of the question. If she doesn’t kill me while trying to sneak out she will hunt us down sooner or later. So, what i want you to do is to please, please ask whoever sources you have that know about stuff like this if there is any other way for us, that I’m not seeing here at the moment. Please.” There was no more room for pretense. He was desperate. And the fairy needed to know that or else he might not tell him more drastic ways if there even were any.

“I’m sorry Yoongi but there’s nothing I can do. I can’t break the bond, nor will anyone try and go against the goddess of the underworld and you know that… there is only one thing,” The fairy answered, the last words rather quietly.

“Well, honey, sweety, listen,” The fairy began before his voice gotten serious, “There is only one way and you know it already, don’t you? Somewhere deep down…it’s risky and probably very stupid. But if my gut feeling isn’t deceiving me it is also the right way.” He sighed deeply, raking his hands through his hair, “You’re not the demon you once were anymore, Yoongi. You are now on the crossroads. Chose.” Somehow, the fairy had the feeling that Persephone was only waiting for Yoongi to break down for him to have only this option left. And she would enjoy it. Every minute of it.

“No way,” Yoongi swallowed hard, his voice small and full of terror, “She might kill me first, just for asking. There’s no way that I can ask her to...ask her... to...” His violent emotions disturbed their call, making the blood in the bowl where the fairies voice had come from ripple and then collapse. Then he got up, pacing, running in circles in front of his sleeping place back and forth, back and forth. And then he realized that the fairy was right. Deep down he already knew that there was no other way than this. He had just needed a confirmation that there was actually nothing, absolutely nothing else, that he could do than this: To ask Persephone to dismiss him from his duties as her servant. Which would also mean that he would stop being a demon. And it was on Persephone to decide what else to turn him into; a corpse or… someone human.

…

Hoseok had just left the throne sale with a wave of her hand, when Persephone changed into her nightgown dress as she was strolling to the private rooms of her palace. She yawned cutely and with another flick of her wrist she let her hair fall out of its bun and down her shoulders in big waves. Her footsteps echoing in the big hallways. She didn’t care if the guards could see her like this, changing midways – they knew better than to stare.

Yoongi didn't care for the time. There wasn’t a ‘good time’ for a question like this. He might fall from her grace simply because of asking the question or even daring to think about leaving her. So, when he hurried down the hallways he ignored the guards confused looks and kept going until he saw a familiar face.

“Hoseok!” Yoongi almost didn’t recognize his own voice. He sounded strange, as if every protection had been stripped from him and now there was only his very core left, tender and vulnerable. Hoseok turned, giving him a look that Yoongi couldn’t decipher but he had a question to ask so he went on with it right away. “Is she still in there? I need to talk to Persephone.”

Hoseok shook his head right away, “No, she retreated to her private rooms. Why do you need to talk to her so late? Did something happen?” The demon looked at his friend rather concerned, who was looking rather anxious. “Is something wrong with Jungk-,” Hoseok couldn’t end his sentence, seeing the expression on Yoongi’s face and then he panicked. “No, no, no, you’re not in your right mind! What are you trying to do? What is this about? Yoongi?” Hoseok put his hands on the other’s shoulders, shaking him as if he could shake the stupid idea out of him. He had a feeling what this was about. He had seen the way Yoongi had changed. It has been months without Jungkook and it only gotten worse. He was losing him. The only demon he ever called his friend – or something like that.

“Hoseok - Hobi…,” He had never called him by his nickname out loud before. But he felt like he needed to make the other understand. Now. After all it might be the last time he saw him. He plucked the other’s hands of his shoulders but kept them in his, avoiding Hoseoks eyes and instead fixating his gaze on their conjoined hands. “I know that you might not understand this and it’s okay if you’re angry or hurt that I leave you behind like this. But I can’t take this anymore. I was fine before I met Jungkook. Until he opened my eyes and made me see that my kind of ‘fine’ had just been cold and loneliness and violence. I can’t live like that anymore. I miss him so much, Hoseok. So much that I can’t breathe without my chest hurting. My heart feels like it's on fire but one that slowly burns it out. I can’t go on - so I need to ask her if it’s possible to dismiss me. I might end up being together with Jungkook in some way. Or I might end up getting killed. But… at least I followed my heart. I tried. That’s something, isn’t it? And I’m thankful that I could call you my friend.”

“I can’t make you change your mind, can I?” Hoseok asked quietly but he knew the answer already. “It’s…dumb I hope you know that,” The demon’s voice cracked lightly, and he quickly regained his posture. His lip was quivering and Hoseok had to admit that he was feeling lost and hurt – but it was Yoongi’s decision. It was on him. He gulped heavily against the lump in his throat before he hesitated, opening his arms slowly. The demon wasn’t sure how humans really did it, but he had seen them do it a couple of times - so he went it and closed his arms around Yoongi. Just for a moment, before he pulled back and averted his gaze quick. He couldn’t stand here and watch this. A quiet ‘Good luck’ was all he could say before he spread his wings and flew out of the window and as high up as he could. No one should see that he was hurting.

Yoongi barely had time to reciprocate the hug, completely caught off guard by Hoseoks open display of affection before the other let go and surged into the air. He didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. But it was probably what both had wanted. Saying ‘goodbye’ would mean that they would never see each other again. And if Yoongi was lucky and he got turned into a human and live with Jungkook then Hoseok would be able to visit him. So, saying goodbye was also like an admission of knowing how high the risk was that he wouldn’t end up where he wanted to be.

A sudden noise behind him, shook Yoongi out of his doubts quick and he saw the goddess walking up to him. “Oh, did you get lost, demon?” Retreating from her bathroom, she walked past the demon, not sharing a glance but with a smile on her face and a tone in her voice that revealed, that she knew very well that Yoongi was here because of her. She turned around gracefully just in front of her room and send away the guards standing around, “Or did you miss me that much already that you couldn’t wait to kneel for me again tomorrow?”

Yoongi lowered his head submissively, his heart kicked into overdrive but her sudden appearance. “I got a request, my goddess,” He swallowed hard before stepping into the room that Persephone was resting in when she held the door open for him. He behaved as if it was totally normal for her to receive guests in here when Yoongi was pretty certain that the only people who had seen Persephone's private rooms from the inside were her lovers, Hades, the maids who were supposed to care for her comfort - and Persephone herself. He wasn’t sure if it was a good sign or bad sign that she let him see her rooms just like this.

She tied her robe a little tighter around her waist, before sitting on the edge of her bed. “A request? That late at night?” The goddess asked and gestured for Yoongi to come in further. “Tell me then,” She pushed her hair back behind her shoulders, before her gaze was piercing through Yoongi, “What do you need from me?”

Yoongi sank down on one knee, the way he knew she liked it, before daring to look up at her, searching for her eyes. “I would like to ask for a favor. One that is way too big for me but in my presumptuousness, I will ask for it nonetheless. My goddess, my mistress, I served you for a little eternity and I served you as good as I could, with the best intentions and the utmost respect. My admiration for your strength and beauty will never cease. Still, after month of considering very careful what kind of options I have I finally come to the conclusion that there is no other way than this. So, now I am here, my goddess, kneeling in front of you as your devoted servant, completely at your mercy and asking if... if there is a way...” Yoongi's voice died out, but he coughed a little and forced the words out even though he had started to tremble, “...a way to possibly be dismissed from your service.”

A knowing smile touched the goddess lips and she got up from where she sat, walking over to her servant. She had been only waiting for him to break right in front of her, begging her to let him go. She had wondered why it had taken so long.

“My servant,” She said and got up and over to him. Persephone let her hand trail over his shoulders, walking around until she was right in front him, “Show me your wings.” When he did as she ordered, she stood in awe, her hands wandering all over his shoulders and neck, cupping his cheeks to make him look up at her and then she touched his wings. Just a light caress.

“You know what you are asking of me is a really stupid request, right?” Persephone spoke further, “You’re asking me to let you go, when you know that I’ve never did so. Never in a million years.” She turned around, walking away from Yoongi but only to heighten the tension for the kneeling demon. She was playing a game.

“Do you think the angel boy is still in love with you? After what you did to him?” The goddess asked with a rough voice, but didn’t expect any answers, “You broke his heart. Took his innocence and then casted him off like it was nothing. It has been months. Don’t you think he has moved on? Can you be sure that he will take you back if I let you go? And now you asked me, your goddess, the one you should always be loyal to, to dismiss you? Just like that? It will be painful, more pain than you’ve ever experienced or can imagine and what do I get from this? I get nothing?” The goddess saw how the demon was trembling, the way he tried to hold himself up – but she knew better. From the day Yoongi had brought Jungkook down into the underworld she knew. Fate and Love were higher powers she doesn’t like to mingle with but that doesn’t mean that she will let her servants go like that. “Your loyalty has changed, demon. Your heart doesn’t beat for me anymore,” The goddess spoke softly and put a finger under Yoongi’s chin to make him look up, “Is it love? Or is it the bond? Tell me Yoongi...”

Yoongi swallowed hard, his wings slightly trembling and betraying him with showing off how anxious he was. How vulnerable. How scared. He regretted asking her. Not because he didn’t want to do this but, because he was afraid that Persephone would kill him right here, right now and he would never see Jungkook again. Even worse, Jungkook might wait for him to show up five years from now and when Yoongi wouldn’t be there then... then it would confirm Jungkook’s fears that he played him. And he would break the youngers heart again. Like he had done over and over again. His eyes filled with tears, but he refused to cry in front of Persephone. If this was how he was going to die, then he would die with his eyes dry and Jungkook’s face in his mind. Sweet, little Jungkook. His angel. His love.

There was no hesitation in his voice when he answered her, “The bond doesn’t matter. Not anymore. I love him. No matter what will happen to me now I’m going to love him for the rest of my life.”

Persephone was almost touched with the way Yoongi was talking about Jungkook. There was so much hope and love radiating off him, despite his anxiousness and she kneeled in front of him, to cup his face. Watching his face closely, she let her hands caress over his soft skin, looking deep into his eyes. “I will miss you, demon,” She whispered and leaned in to kiss his forehead. No matter how hard and cruel she was, she still respected the demon in a way. He had been loyal to her for an eternity. Had been one of her best servants. She sighed deeply, staying close to him and speaking in a whisper. “I can make you forget,” Persephone spoke, “About Jungkook, the pain, the bond will only be a faded weird feeling in the pit of your stomach and you can stay a demon. If you chose to stay, I’d make sure to make you my personal guard. My demon. I’d give you greater powers than you’ll ever imagine.” Her fingers trailed with a feather light touch over his cheek, “Or I can make you human.”

Yoongi suppressed a shudder. Persephone had never been so close to him let alone touch him like that. He felt like an insect pinned down by her stare, her touches so intense as if they burned right through his skin into his soul. His breath became shallow. For a second, just the fraction of a second, he considered the surprising offer. He hadn’t known that there was another option. But to be honest it wasn’t more than a quick thought before he was sure that there was no way that he could live with this. Even if it would work and he forgot everything - he didn’t want to. He would never leave Jungkook alone like this, seeking refuge in the past and leaving Jungkook to suffer on his own. The younger didn’t deserve this. His heart beat faster when Persephone mentioned the second option. Becoming human. Just what he wanted. Or rather what he would chose to endure to be with Jungkook.

“But…there is a price to pay. It will entail a lot of pain. More than you could ever imagine. I will take everything from you that makes you a demon and unlike becoming one, you will remember all the pain, like a fragile human does,” Making Yoongi look her into her eyes, she put a finger under his chin, “Barely one survived it before. I can’t promise you that you will… So, stay with me, become my personal guard and stay forever safe or take the risk of death in hope to be with the one you love. Choose, demon.”

There wasn’t really anything to choose. He had made his decision long ago and his fate had been sealed the moment he had gone out tonight.

“You know what I want, my goddess. Please, even though it will make you lose a servant I beg you to be selfless and grant me my wish,” He was scared, so so scared. But he would push through. This was what he needed to do.

Suddenly Persephone’s expression changed as if everything before had just been show and now she was showing her true colors. She got up and Yoongi stayed kneeling, unsure how to react or what to do now. He had no idea how exactly this would work so he didn’t know what he was expected to do. But apparently Persephone had him where she wanted him to be because she didn’t ask him to get up, just started to walk around him slowly. All the while she was looking at him, scanning him as if he was an exhibit at a museum, a statue to admire from afar. Unable to hide from any stares or attacks Yoongi was tense, his breath coming in short pants. He was getting more and more nervous. He shuddered when she touched his wings again, but she just started stroking the feathers like before, letting Yoongi feel them, each and every one of them and how deeply they were connected to his very being.

„So beautiful,” She whispered, a cruel praise considering what she was about to do, „You always had the most beautiful wings, Yoongi. I bet it must feel wonderful to fly, having the wind brush through your feathers. It must feel like freedom.”

Yoongi couldn’t take the tension anymore, he sobbed once, an ugly, desperate sound coming from his chest. She hit right where it hurt the most. He loved flying. Always had. Because it felt exactly like that, like pure freedom right within his grasp.

“To be above everything else must be awesome. Don’t you want to…”

„Please,” Yoongi interrupted her, voice small and choked with tears. „Please stop teasing me. We both know I love my wings dearly. Just…just get it over with. I made my decision. I won’t change it now. Please just…just make it quick.” Persephone smiled gently, completely in contrast to what she was would do next. Then she got a hold of Yoongi’s wing, right where it was connected to his shoulder blade. “As you wish,” Then she cleanly ripped his wing out from his shoulder.

Yoongi screamed.

One yank of her was all it took to separate the tissue and bones, muscles and vessels simply ripping apart under her violent strength. His fingers curling desperately against the cold floor in a desperate attempt to hold onto something, anything that he could hold onto, that would anchor him and keep him from losing his mind in pain. It hurt so much! He had never felt this kind of anguish in his entire life and it wasn’t even over with. He whimpered when she gripped his other wing, his body trying to writhe out of her grasp on its own accord.

“N...no, please…,” His words were slurred from the effort it took him to stay conscious through the agony he felt, his body shivering uncontrollably from pure shock. The second wing was worse because he knew what was coming. And still he couldn’t prepare himself for it. It blindsided him how deeply it ripped into his soul, how the pain seemed to invade his lungs and pierce his soul until there was nothing else left but dread and hot white, desperate agony burning through his very core. It was all in a bit of a haze after that – but Yoongi was thankful for that.

Jungkook woke with a loud scream, his eyes widened all while he was falling off the edge of the bed right away. He was clutching his heart. Pain. So much pain. He was barely able to breathe as the burn was rippling through him. He screamed out the demon’s name, shutting his eyes close as he tried to get himself back onto the bed, but Jungkook couldn’t move. Everything hurt too much. Pulling himself up, he fell again. It felt like he was getting stabbed all over again and he tried to see if he was hurting somewhere. With shaking hands, he lifted his shirt, but another piercing pain went right through him, making him fall onto his knees. Jungkook was whimpering pathetically. The pain wasn’t bearable for a human. His head was pounding It was too much and Jungkook could feel the darkness wash over him, making him fall back and onto the floor.

Persephone’s hand wrapped around his horns. A wicked smile on her lips, before she broke them off, right at the base, then burning out the stumps so they wouldn’t grow back ever again. The singing heat and dull sounds of breaking horn washed over like it was nothing. Yoongi couldn’t move, couldn’t fight her. His whole body frozen in shock, his mind entirely numb from it. But even if he had been able to move it wouldn’t have helped. He had chosen this. He had chosen to give up everything he had and risk his soul and his life just for a chance to get back to Jungkook. Persephone had been right. It was stupid. So utterly, utterly stupid. And yet the thought of Jungkook and the possibility of seeing him again sooner was the only thing that helped him through this.

Persephone took his hand, leaning over it as if to kiss his palm before ripping out his claws, one by one.

Yoongi barely flinched, instead he just moaned pathetically in pain. It just added to the already overwhelming misery he was in. When she was finished she let him go and Yoongi collapsed, unable to hold himself up on his own, his limbs trembling like aspen leaves.

Persephone stood tall over the unconscious demon, watching his still form for a little while before she kneeled next to him. Then she closed her eyes and put her hand over his eyes and one on his heart. Under her breath, she was repeating the magical words, that would make Yoongi human, over and over again until the strong magic was rushing through her veins and to her fingertips and flowing right into Yoongi’s body.

His eyes stood wide open again, as he screamed in pain under her magic. The magic was pushing everything that was demonic out of him and only left the human side of him. Yoongi was hissing, breathing heavily through the pain and screaming that Persephone was scared he wouldn’t make it. “Hold on,” She screamed back and pushed a little further, “It’s over soon.”

Yoongi was writhing on the floor, shuddering violently under her grip until finally, finally she took her hands off him. His body arched up one last time before he laid still. Yoongi felt strange. Every cell, every fiber of him was aching and he wanted so badly to cry. He was cold except for the hot blood running down his back and pooling around his form until he was lying in a puddle of red.

“Look at you,” Persephone's voice was soft as she brushed back his hair, wiping away the sweaty and bloody strands that were plastered to his forehead. “You should have listened when you were warned about love. It’s always painful for us. One way or another we’re going to end up hurting. And as I said you don’t even know if he still loves you. Maybe he never really did. He could have fallen for the thrill and adrenaline. Or he had some strange kind of Stockholm syndrome considering he was just as bound to you as you were to him. And then he was held here in the underworld. Not the perfect conditions for real love, don’t you think?” Yoongi pressed his lips together until they were thin and bloodless.

“And even if you are a lucky one and he feels something for you – you realize that he could do so much better than you, right? He’s a pure human being and he should be with someone as gentle and human as himself. You won’t ever come close to that, even without your horns and wings and stripped of your powers you will still be a tainted one. Not completely human but not a demon either. Did you really consider this? With all its consequences? There are so many ways that this could go wrong, for both you and your loved one,” She was stroking soothingly through his hair, a sweet, wicked smile on her lips. Yoongi couldn’t help it, he whimpered, curling in on himself more tightly. Her words held way too much truth for his liking. Jungkook was everything good in his life while he was – no, had been - a demon. But even as a human and on his best behavior he would never be the kind of ‘good’ that an angel naturally was.

Persephone’s eyes were full of pity when she caressed his cheekbone, leaving a trail of blood behind on his face. “Maybe if you beg me enough I might take you back right now. Even wingless and powerless as you are I might find a place for you as a lower servant. It would be far from what you did for me before and you would certainly feel downgraded and useless and just as weak as you are now – but wouldn’t it be better than going up into the human world without knowing what will happen to you? I only offer this once and only if you beg me right now and promise to never dare to ask me to let you go ever again. If Jungkook refuses to let you in, then there will be absolutely nothing for you up there. You can’t just change your mind then. Even if you see how stupid your decision was. No matter if your heart will be broken or your body violated I won’t help you. I won’t let you back into the underworld. Beg me now or you will be completely on your own.” She watched him like a hawk waiting for him to speak up but Yoongi kept quiet, biting his lip so hard he drew blood, just to make sure he wouldn’t make any sound that could be considered affirmation.

“Alright. Then I guess this is it-,” The goddess ripped the clothes from his body because they had been made in the underworld and he had worn them while he had still been a demon, He wasn’t allowed to keep anything that would connect him to his former existence. He was something else now. Yoongi the demon didn’t exist any longer.

“Goodbye, Yoongi,” Then she sent him up one last pitying look and a wave of her hand. She wasn’t sure if he would make it.

A/N: Only one more chapter to go! Do you think Yoongi will make it? Will Jungkook be able to endure the pain? *sighs* Whooo knows (well... we do ;)) hihi Thank you for reading! Leave us a comment on how you liked it aaaaand please, check out this wonderful fanart from @imurproblematicfav who made a lovely TTV Yoonkook drawing ;; I never received fanart before and seeing your story drawn is like ahgrhrgrhr it’s so cool. Cat and I are so happy! Thank you, Bels!!! ❤

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mama-ghostie-61542 · 3 years

Text

A Thousand Lifetimes

Rating applies--M++ for language and esoteric themes.

Also....If you recognize it, IT AIN'T MINE!

Some things may seem a little OOC, but I tried.

Chapter 1.

Security and the legal division had gone over both the kiosk recording and the box, the story, and had found nothing in it but papers. The legal department passed the written work off to the writing department.

The writers went over the work with a fine toothed comb and found it odd, but not bad. However, those pages were quickly repacked for delivery to the intended recipient, the box retied with care, and placed into the bin with all of the other packages to be delivered to the dorms.

It wasn't long before security added the video to a small drive and taped it to said box.

When it arrived, someone had taken the time to place it in another box. The weekly care packages from fans were separated and placed in the boxes for final delivery to the dorms.

Most of the other mail was letters, but Minhyuk noticed a non-descript box with Yoo Kihyun written on the side.

"Hey, Kik, did you order anything?"

"No," He replied shaking his head, confusion covering his face.

"Hmm. You have a package. Feels like a book."

"Why would a Monbebe send me a book?"

"Don't know. Guess you will have to open it. Maybe it's a cook book."

Kihyun PoV

It was still early, so I fixed some coffee and settled in on the couch, placing my box and mug on the coffee table. Last night had been a rough night. I had dreamed of her again; of those eyes I would know in the dark. The ones I had searched every fan for. It's why I like to hold their hands. My Ghost is good at cloaking her eyes, but the electric shock of recognition in the hands is impossible to hide or to fake. Honestly, it is a small part of why I decided to pursue music as a career, rather than a hobby. It was one of the few professions that I could meet a lot of people and maybe, if all the stars aligned, I'd find her. As I was already proficient in it, it made sense.

After that dream, which consisted of chasing her around a car with a water hose, the universe had left distinct impressions of her everywhere. From the ghost of her energy in the shower to the smell of her on my sheets. I swear, this morning, I felt like, if I turned fast enough, I would still see her watching my back. Good Mother, Please, this is going to drive me crazy today. But, as that thought crosses my mind, the Elders whisper back that it is something she herself is experiencing as well.

I scrubbed my face with my hands again, trying to rid myself of the lingering pressure of her fingertips, before I picked up my coffee and sipped at it for a minute. It helps, but fuck it hurts. The simple act of sipping this brew is almost enough to make me tear up, and I know, some how, it is just as bad for her. That the color keeps her thinking of me.

"What did you get," came a voice over my shoulder.

I looked to see HyunWoo with his own mail and coffee, sitting down across from me.

"Not sure yet," I answered as I shook my head, mostly to dispel the images that have suddenly popped into it; and set my mug down.

I was kind of afraid to open the box, because I sometimes get weird stuff sent to me from strangers. Not a single one of the million faces I have seen has been the one I see in my dreams. I know she is out there somewhere, but I am still not quite sure as to where. I wish I had a clue, just one, that would put me on the right track. I have almost begged the Ancestors, and I have asked her through whatever this connection is, but each time she answers, it's garbled. A part of me is certain she has wished for a clue, as well.

Sighing deeply to steady myself, I opened the box, only to find tissue paper and another box with post-it and a thumb drive attached to it. I tore off the thumb drive and read the post-it.

--Watch this. Do you know who she is?--

I was taken aback. That was an odd thing for security to say.

I went to grab my laptop and, after it finished booting up, slid the drive into the usb. The only file was a copy of the camera at the kiosk outside the main office. There, on that camera, was a woman. The slight breeze last night had made her ankle length cloak flutter around her, showing her clothes; faded jeans that lovingly hugged her hips and thighs, and a faded t-shirt. I tried to see her face but only the curve of her cheek and the cleft of her chin could be seen in the street lights. Oddly, they seemed very familiar.

As she came closer, the lights flipped on, and the hood further obscured her face. It wasn't until she got closer that I realized, she had a box with her. She gently placed it in the compartment that had been put there for the legal department's night deliveries.

I could hear her softly sigh and whisper, "No, I am enough. And this is enough. All I want is a twitch, just enough to know he is still there."

And then she stood and pulled herself up to her full height, maybe 165 cm, and turned those eyes to the camera.

My world stopped right there. For a minute, I forgot how to breathe. There were memories pulling in from every corner of the ether.

There she was. That face, those eyes that I would know in the dark and mostly dead. I know her, better than anyone else. Better, sometimes, than I felt I had a right to. She was there last night while I slept. But what she said next would shake me to my core.

"It is done. The ball is your court, now, my love."

I didn't even bother to turn off the computer as I reached across the table for that box. Whatever was in it was precious because it was from her, from my queen.

That name was one I had given her long ago. It's the only one I shared with the guys, but I had never told them why. It's the way she carries herself, confidant and regal like a queen. In truth, she is more like a queen than she knows. She is like a warrior queen of old; confidant in her abilities, humble before Spirit, and more than willing to take the hurt to defend those whom she cares for. I knew that first hand, as she had sacrificed for me, once.

That was one of the worst nightmares I have ever had. I knew it was an old memory coming up, but it still hurt. It always starts the same way, the feeling of being shoved out of the way. Next, comes seeing the light in her eyes dim as she fell to one knee. Then, I was holding her, rocking her and begging her not to go where I could not follow, to stay with me; as her life blood flowed from a place on her side. From that place where the bolt had sliced her as it went past. I whispered to her that I would find her, as her breath on my cheek stopped, and then screaming as she crossed the veil. The overwhelming sorrow suddenly gave way to rage. I laid her down and kissed her forehead, before racing off into the thick of battle; the loss tempering my resolve to let those troops feel how I felt. It was my own recklessness that had me charging into the thick of battle, blinded with tears and the sudden loss of our connection. I couldn't feel her anymore, and it felt like she had taken the better part of me with her. We had been trained to never fall into bloodlust on the field, but I readily gave myself over to it. I had gone no more than 30 feet from her before it all went black. In that berserker rage, that overwhelming grief, I left a path of death and destruction in my wake. I did not care what colors the men wore, as my broken heart lashed out with my blade.

That is one of the reasons I am glad to have my own room, here. At least this way, I won't wake the others with my nightmares anymore. Or the bittersweet dreams where I wake up crying for her all over again. In all honesty, she has always been my Ghost. Her eyes have been in all of those bittersweet dreams for years. You know the ones; the sweetest dreams that you don't want to wake up from, you just want to soak it all up because you know that the reality hurts. I am starting to think I will never find her.

I reopened the box, wondering who had closed it, as I glanced up to see Minhyuk wink.

Silently, I thanked the Elders for Min as I pulled the tissue away from the inner box and pulled it out.

My hands were shaking as I untied the black and red ribbon from the box, realizing its significance, and gently pulled off the lid. My heart sank as I realized the papers inside had been handled many times. It was truly a metaphor for our lives, our hearts and souls. Both had been handled many times before they finally came to rest where they were supposed to have been all along.

Sighing, I pulled the letter off of the top.

'Hey, Haka.'

I could not help the smile, then. Sheer relief coursed through me as I realized that she remembered. That name was a play on words that we both knew, an inside joke, if you will. See, it started out with her calling me Hawkie; the Crazy Hawk Flying Off On Every Wind. But it changed to Heyhaka; mostly because her ex-asshole claimed to be me. That pissed me off to no end. But I digress, in her culture, Heyhaka, the Elk, was quite the ladies man. She always said it was fitting, as he was the siren of the forest. Thus, when he sang, he could draw the ladies from far and wide to his lodge, having his pick of them whenever he chose to. However, even though she has called me her "Siren of Seoul," and sirens traditionally sang sailors to their deaths; I could never hurt her.

'I hope this finds you well and in good spirits. Please, for your own sake, do not run to me, my king. You and I both know you are bound by contract and we both know that the others would be at your heels.

Some may mistake your gentleness for something else; but make no mistake, my dear, I do not. You, my love, are more the pathfinder; determined to find the way to do what must be done, to find each and every loophole and exploit them to your fullest advantage. All the makings of a cherished, shrewd, and benevolent king; in my humble, yet honest, opinion.

Please, do not think me forward if I say that I dreamed of your eyes for many, many years before I ever saw them. I drew them from memory many times; but alas, the fire in them, the love, the passion, remains something ink and graphite cannot capture. Imagine my shock at seeing them, in this life, halfway around the world. I can almost see the soft smile in those endless pools now.'

She was right, I was smiling softly. The deep and abiding dedication to a souls love in those words, nearly brought tears to my eyes. I kept reading as I sat back, chewing on my thumb.

'And now you are on the verge of tears, chewing on your thumb and trying to hold it all in. Curled up somewhere soft and cozy, trying your hardest to not allow a single thing to be seen. However, my king, the knights have already seen the look on your face. It will not be long now and you will find either another cup of coffee or a mug of tea next to you. Please, tell my soul brothers I said Hello.'

About that time, Min and Honey brought me a mug of herbal tea and a blanket. I smiled. "The Queen says to tell her brothers 'Hello'."

Honey smiled and patted my shoulder, before dropping a kiss on my head and walking away, the shine of tears in his own eyes.

Min, on the other hand, sat next to me on the couch and tucked the blanket in around me. Then he hugged me. "If you talk to her," he whispered, "Tell her I am sorry."

"What for," I asked.

"She'll know," was his answer. After that, he quietly got up and left the room, taking my now cold coffee with him.

I went back to reading the letter.

'It is fitting that I should be nine hours ahead of you. I remember, you would always tell me, "Sleep now, my love. I'll keep watch." I always found comfort in that phrase, found peace in it; contentment. I generally have an awful time sleeping without remembering that simple phrase. My mind comes up with a thousand things I should be doing, to ward off the nightmares. But, somehow, the sound of your voice silences that one and that phrase is the sweetest lullaby in the world.

Sometimes, I can feel you here; feel you watching me, studying me. I'm not sure if you are asleep or meditating. It's never more than a whisper in my ear or the pressure of your fingertips on my chin. It's like knowing, somehow, that you are close, but you aren't really here. Some days, when I feel like giving up, I can feel you. Feel your gentle hands and hear softly spoken words of comfort. I draw strength from those moments.'

People have said that I seem to zone out sometimes, with a far away look on my face. The guys have called them my "Queen moments". I can never predict when they are going to happen. Once it was in the middle of a meeting. I sat there, that look on my face, and I could vaguely hear Hyun in the background, "Don't worry about it. He's having a moment with his queen. He'll snap out of it soon." About that time, I did come out of it. I have been doing it, unconciously, since childhood.

My Queen, however, doesn't know that I take comfort in those times, too. The simple, "Easy, Killer" when I am mad or the "I'm here" during those bittersweet dreams. The way her spirit steps up behind me when I am working on something and getting frustrated; the way she holds me, with her hand over my heart, and her snout pressed into the back of my neck. My spirit can do no more than calm down. I don't think she realizes that she does the same for me. But that is the way we work, neither of us have to say much, we just do and it fits.

I go back to the letter again.

'Please, my love, wait to decide your next step until you have read all of the story. You and I both know how impulsive you are, and this will be tough going. There are clues scattered in the reading as to where I am. Hopefully, you are still as amazing at the art of reading between the lines as you used to be.

Heyhaka, I want you to hear this now. I will never interrupt your flight. EVER. Because I want you to fly, as far and as high as you possibly can. Because I want you to be happy. And I don’t mean, just a little happy; I mean inordinately, passionately, incandescently happy. That is the kind of happy that you deserve. So, if I don't hear from you, I understand. I can't say it won't hurt, but as long as you are happy, I'll be ok.

That said, I will end with this; I hope you remember the words we always said when parting, for any reason...

Where you go, my heart goes.

All my love, heart and soul.

Your Wolf Queen.'

I smiled softly as I refolded the letter and gently smoothed said missive. As I leaned forwards to the box on the coffee table, I heard a whistle from the easy chair across from me.

I look up to see HyunWoo handing back my closed laptop and the drive.

"I closed that so little brother didn't see. Didn't think you wanted him to see her. She's beautiful, by the way," he said as he handed over the drive. As he strode back to his chair, he stopped to pick up the ribbon that had been around the box. "Wonder why she picked black and red. 'S a little morbid."

I smiled, glad that I had been open with them about that part of me. Taking the ribbon from him, I said, "At one time, black was the color of life, as good, fertile dirt is black. Back then, red was for more than luck. It was fire that transforms, passion, rebirth, and drive; as well as a persons life-blood. But this way, with the black on either edge of the red, and the red very thin, it's a symbol of distress; akin to blood on a ravens wing. It would have been good to see the way she had originally tied it. The Elders taught us seven sacred knots. All of our tied messages held a certain meaning. Tied one way, with this ribbon means, 'Send Help. I'm stuck', and another way, it signifies an impending union. If the colors were flipped and it were tied a third way, this ribbon would signify a new birth."

HyunWoo nodded, taking it in. "Seems like you could carry on a whole conversation by the knots."

"You can. We had to communicate via birds during wars. Most had a special meaning. If it had come on a raven, it meant that the sender was a captive or had been enslaved. On a mourning dove, it means "I am stuck here missing you," Then, I softly smiled, "Thank you for this, by the way. She's more than beautiful, She's perfect."

He chuckled, "You sound like you are already starting to fall for her."

Gently touching the drive in my left hand, I laughed, "Starting? No. I have loved this woman since I was 15. Since I was old enough to remember what that feeling was."

"You are a very lucky man."

"I am extremely lucky," I said as I sat down the drive and ribbon, and again, reached for the box. Opening it, I found each chapter stapled together, but independent of each other. I sat the first one on top of the box; then tucked both the ribbon and drive in my pocket before stacking the box on my laptop, and stood to leave when I heard Changkyun behind me.

"What's in the box?"

HyunWoo answered before I could, "Leave it be. It's from his queen."

He smiled as he looked at me. "She finally found you?"

I nodded, clutching the box to my chest, eager to get to my room and start reading.

"Wow. I'm so happy for you," he smiled, but his smile held pain.

I set off into the kitchen to drop off the mug of now cold tea but before I got there, I heard someone ask

"What's for lunch?"

"Get it yourself. Your hands aren't broke," I replied as I set off down the hall, chuckling to myself that I had been channeling her for a moment.

I was almost to my door when a hand closed around my arm. I turned to see Honey, his eyes slightly puffy and red rimmed, obvious signs of tears.

"If you need to talk about all this," he said pointing at the box I had clasped to my chest, "I am willing to listen." Then, he headed in the direction I had just came from.

I made it to my bed and sat back. Next, I pulled the ribbon from my pocket and tied it to my left wrist in an elaborate knot that meant "On my way'. Then, I sighed to steady my heart, and started to read.

Chapter 1

2019--Chicago, Illinois; USA

Kihyun PoV

We were on the North American leg of our tour. Chicago is a beautiful city, but there was a strange, tug in my chest. Over our three days there, I got a little used to it. At first, though, the sharp yank hurt like hell. It made me feel like I was about to throw up that first time. My already vivid dreams of my Ghost somehow got sharper and the longest they had ever been.

Our last day, had been a very busy day, and I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. I am not generally that tired after a show, but between that and that weird pull, I must have been more exhausted than I thought. I know I slept deeply for a bit, because the next thing I remember was being in the woods.

The fog rolled in quickly and I heard a voice that I had only ever heard in dreams or if I were sick or scared. The fear in her voice nearly crushed me. Her fear sent me into panic mode.

"Haka! Heyhaka! Where are you?! I can't find you. Where are you," She yelled, her voice raising with her panic.

It was at that point that I set off at a run. I had to find her. I could nearly feel the leaves and muck under my bare feet. But, at that exact moment, the already dense fog became even thicker, if possible. As I ran, I heard the slight trickle of water over stones. Finding a wide creek, I decided to follow it.

Had she had these dreams as well? Had I forgotten to block her one night and she had seen it from my perspective?

"Wolf," I yelled into the mists.

"Haka! Over here," She returned.

"Keep yelling! I'll find you!"

She started screaming unintelligible things at that point.

Following her shrieks and cries, I finally found her, tied to a tree on a small island in the middle of the creek. She was bound by vines, from her hips down, so there would have been no way for her to escape. I saw her strong, gentle hands claw at the vines holding her.

Then she reached for me.

"Haka. Help me. I can't get out," Her voice mirroring my own panic.

The instant I picked up my foot to go to her, to leap across the creek to free her; a second set of vines sprung up around me. I could feel the darkness coming off of them. I grabbed hold of them and reached for her.

"Reach. Reach," I shrieked as I reached for her.

I could tell that we were both extended out as far as we could. Our fingertips were just touching, not enough to hold onto one another, not enough to find purchase; but just enough to brush upon each other. However, each time our fingertips brushed against each other, there were visions; memories, that spewed forth.

I admit, I got pretty angry by this point. "I will find you," I yelled as the vines dragged me back and the mists turned to darkness.

"I Will Find You," I yelled as everything faded back to black.

'Yes,' I thought, 'I will find you. I have not forgotten. Nor am I likely to.'

Then, I woke up enough to feel a hand on my shoulder, "KiKi. Wake up. It's just a dream."

I looked over my shoulder to see Lee Jooheon sitting at the edge of my bed, with his hand resting against my shoulder, his eyes filled with concern.

"Are you alright," he whispered, careful not to wake the others. I had somehow forgotten that everyone had crashed in my room. It is an open secret that I have some pretty nasty dreams.

I shook my head as I curled around my pillow. "Nightmare," I replied as I lost myself in the memory of the dream for a minute. I could still smell the forest, feel the mists on my skin, feel her fingertips scrambling for purchase with mine. Her voice and my promise were still ringing in my ears. It was mere seconds before the soul crushing despair at our situation set in and I did my best not to cry. Knowing she was trapped hurt more than anything.

The gentle tug on my sweatshirt drew my focus back to him. "Downstairs. We'll talk there," He whispered as he threw his feet into his sneakers and waited for me to do the same.

We quietly let ourselves out and went down to the all night café across the street.

Nothing was said as we got our coffees and slid into a small booth at the back of the room.

"Talk," He said, his voice heavy with concern.

I shook my head, "I can't put it into words."

He sat back, his eyes both wise and playful. Until they lost all the playfulness and took on a hard edge.

Honey PoV (A/N--Weirds me out.)

"Either talk or let me see."

That was something I never let on to be able to do. In truth, only he knows about it. See, sometimes, I can see things. If I hold someone's gaze too long, I can catch snips of thoughts, dreams, nightmares, and feelings. It is like picking up what has been left on the cutting room floor and using it to make a movie. I don't ever get the full picture but I see enough to get the idea. See, when I have been conned into doing aegyo, my eyes are a little crossed so I am not seeing things.

Kihyun sighed finally, "It's the same nightmare I have had since I was 14. It has never changed, but this time was more detailed, sharper. Only the woman in it and I have ever changed, we've aged. She used to be so pretty; thick chestnut waves that flowed down her back and hazel eyes with an inherent wildness in their depths." His eyes grew softer as he spoke of her.

"The nightmare," I asked again as I stared at him, tapping my fingertips on the table, hoping my gaze would push him to tell me. Seeing what others can isn't always pleasant, and sometimes, it's downright painful; but in this case, it's dead useful.

The more he tried not to talk, the more resolved I was to do this the hard way. Seizing an opening, I grabbed his head, placing my thumbs on his forehead, just above his brows. Then, I gently placed my forehead on his and said, "Look At Me," in the sternest tone I could muster.

His eyes opened and peered over the rim of his glasses. The image that came forward was of a woman, with blue green eyes and closely cropped chestnut hair containing more than a few strands of white. Her hands were fighting and clawing at the vines that held her slim hips firm in their grasp.

Her skin had a coppery hue to it, exactly like the milk caramel hard candies my mothers uncle insisted on sending us every year. This led me to, check her eyes, momentarily. Which only served to confirm my suspicions. She has indigenous blood in her, albeit watered down. However, one wouldn't see it if they didn't know what to look for; it's in the subtle almond shape to her eyes, her high cheekbones, and, the way her skin had taken on a soft, coppery glow in that single shaft of sunlight.

Her boyish figure was accented nicely in the diaphanous gown she wore. The way the gossamer fabric folded in about her tiny waist, only to expand and gently loop over broad, yet feminine shoulders. Those same structures led down into strong but gentle hands.

There, around her arm and peeking out from under her dress were lines and whirls of ink. On her left arm, she wore leaves of ranks. A Ghost? But they are rumored to have been killed off long ago. She must be the last. This is like finding a unicorn. There were also vines, small blossoms I did not recognize, and a tiny Leo symbol in the ranks on her arm. Around her right ankle, there was a thin, black band. Joy, so not only the last Ghost, but a Posted one as well.

Now, I had heard stories of the Ghosts, but at the time, I thought they were all just tall tales. But this one was nearly a four star general in her own right. It made no sense why she would be Posted and in Kihyun's dreams, unless...Unless, he was her Guard.

Taking a second to look at the surroundings, lead me to understand where she was. As the vision faded away, I heard her voice in his head,

"Haka. Come home."

The sorrow in her voice was almost too much. However, in the next breath, it was matched in his whisper.

"Soon, Mami. Soon."

"Mami," I asked as I sat back, a smile slowly spreading across my face. "You call her 'Mami'."

"Shut up," he growled.

"What? I happen to think it's cute. She call you 'Daddy'?"

"No," He chuckled. "Haka most generally. 'Papi', but only if I am calling her 'Mami'. The odd 'Hawkie', if she's playing. 'Heyhaka' if I am in trouble. 'Asshole' if I have been making promises I can't keep...again."

"We will revisit that last bit in a minute. Has her hair always been that short? With that much gray?"

Kihyun sighed and smiled gently, "No. It used to be long and thick with waves for days. But after the first few times, there were bruises, and then she shaved it all off. The gray is a recent development."

I sighed. "Abuse victim, if she cut it after a few bruises. Wow, must be super stressed for it to turn that quickly. Did you take in anything in the environment of where she was?"

He shook his head, "No. I was too focused on her."

I nodded. "I would be too. There was an old tree that looked like it was half dead, and some turtles around the shore."

"Hmm," he hummed as his brow furrowed. "Not sure what that could mean."

I sighed. "The indigenous peoples of the Americas called the continent 'Turtle Island'; and, judging by the shape of her eyes and the color of her skin, she has one of said nations blood in her veins. The half dead tree is symbolic of the current unrest here."

He seemed to deflate a little bit. "So she is an American mixed blood?"

I nodded. "Yeah. So, just how many promises have you made?"

"Mmm, ten, I think," He answered, his brow furrowed.

"Only ten?"

"No, I lost count around ten."

Shaking my head, I chuckled. "Oh boy. When was the last time you really promised her something? That you remember?"

He sat there thinking for a minute. "That time I had my appendix out. I was all of 17. I saw her and the fire and the moon and I followed the pull. I just stood there and swayed with her there. I know I woke up a few days later kinda sad."

"Oh, God," I growled as my head fell into my hands. "Do you remember what you said?"

"Not right off of the top of my head. Sorry," he replied.

"Hmm. You may need to let me see. If you did what I think you did, this dream is calling you home."

I leaned forward and placed my thumbs in the exact spots they had been earlier. He opened his mind to me and I saw...

"Even if I search for all of my days; it will only ever be you. I promise you, my queen, here and now, I will find you; even if I live a thousand years. No matter what happens, I will always find you. No matter the time or the distance, I will find you, my love. We've got this, Mami. I have not broken my oath yet, nor will I ever. "

Sitting back, I sighed, "Yep."

He looked at me with fear in his eyes, "What?"

"You tied yourself to her, or should I say re-tied. I'm not sure whether to smack you or congratulate you," I stated as I sat back in the booth and crossed my arms over my chest.

"What," He said again; a look of confusion clouding his features.

Shaking my head, I sighed. "I mean, Numb-Nuts, that you took an out of body, walk about and danced in the moonlight with your Ghost. I mean that you are married, KiKi. VERY Married."

"Hold up! I have NEVER met her in my life! How is this possible? It was just a dream...wasn't it," he exclaimed, his hands flying. The disbelief on his face was as plain as day.

I sat up, "Uh-Uh. You have met," I said as I held up a finger. "At least once, although probably not in this life. And as for the 'I never met her' thing, you didn't have to. You have each others names written on your souls. So, if you took a walk out your body during surgery, where would the Elders send you? I'll take 'Straight to her' for 1000, Alex."

"Whoa," he sighed as the realization hit him. He flopped back into the seat. After a few minutes, he said, his brow furrowed in thought, "That explains a lot, though."

"What does it explain?"

"About ten years ago now, she got married. She told me he was there and real; that she was tired of waiting. I told her that it would never work. That the piece of her I had, I would not give up."

"Urgh," I growled. "So she picked what was easy over what was right? And you are just asking for trouble. Angering a Ghost is never smart."

"But you just said she is real."

"She is. Did you not see her tats?"

Kihyun sat up and shook his head. "No."

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "From where her neck connects to her shoulder on the left to halfway down her forearm and wrapping over her ribs and legs, all the way to her toes. You could see them through her dress in places. The ones on her arm are ranks."

Suddenly, he got rather angry. I seized the chance and let my eyes un-focus a little. There they were. His own ranks began to unfurl over his skin and I could see he was a single rank below her, but also her Guard. Slamming his hands on the table, he jumped up and yelled, "You looked at my wife?!"

I groaned in frustration and pulled at my hair. "No, you moron, I did not look! You looked. I saw. Besides, you refused to claim her less than 5 minutes ago! Make up my fuckin' mind, will ya. Do ya want her or not!?"

"Yes," he shouted, but then deflated, sank back into the seat, and whispered, "What happens if I find her though? She is soo much older than I am. Don't get me wrong, I-I don't mind, but...," Kihyun trailed off.

"Hmm," I thought. "The way I see it, you two are stuck on either side of an ocean, but you are like magnets pulling at each other from across the distance," I said as I held up my fists and put them across from each other, inching them closer together. "The vines are trying to keep you both tied to where you are. They are physical manifestations of someone or something trying to keep you two apart," I said as I made my fists to look like they were being kept away from each other. "Now, If either one were to cross said ocean, without those bindings, you two would inevitably collide. And that colliding," I continued as I brought my knuckles together and made them look like an explosion, "would either completely destroy each other, or it would be the most beautiful, loving, passionate relationship known to man or beast. However, within that, you two will butt heads, because you are both so stubborn."

"How can you tell?"

"Two ways, You are both fixed signs, Scorsaggio and Leo," I stated as I held up one finger.

"How did you know that," He asked.

"Her tattoos. One is a Leo symbol. And two, because, neither one of you took that leap of faith when you first had the chance. Not that she had much of a chance to start with."

"What?"

"When those mists parted enough for you to see her, she was already bound. And from that thin black band around her ankle, she is tied to the Earth; well and truly a Posted Ghost.. Hobbled, more or less."

"So I would have to go to her either way. My leap of faith would have to be early. I'll test it next time," He nodded.

"As for the new details, it could be that she is close. Or, at least than closer than Seoul."

He nodded. "Which would explain why the first time I had the entire nightmare was while visiting my uncle in Texas. Also explains why it is so much sharper here, than there in Texas; so she is much closer to here. So where are you thinking of spending your break," he asked, deftly turning the conversation away from her.

"With my adopted sister. It will be a week, here in the States, with my big Sis and her family!"

"I didn't know you had older sister."

"Adopted. We adopted each other. We met in that lo-fi channel I listen to."

"Oh, yeah."

"Yeah. Bryn just turned 38, is married to the worlds biggest douche, and she's a mom. She wanted a little brother she didn't have to take care of and I agreed. I wanted an older sister who wasn't such a pain in my ass. That much older, and she is more like a cool auntie."

Kihyun PoV

Weeks went by, we were back in Seoul, and Honey's words were still stuck in the back of my head.

The next time I had that dream, I threw a rock into the water. It sounded much deeper than it looked. The first time I tried to cross it, I got swept away. The second time, I crossed it early and by some miracle made it to the island, only to be attacked by the turtles. For slow moving reptiles, those tiny box turtles hit hard. One shoved me off of the island and I got swept away again.

I will admit to meditating more than normal. But it had an added effect. I found I could reach out to her better than if I had been drinking or if I was exhausted. The connection is better, stronger, somehow. Drinking has never really been my thing. Mostly because when I drink, I start screaming at shadows and bawl my eyes out over her. Then, I work myself up to the point where I hurl...and then, I pass out. The guys have had to bring me back before, I either shadowbox at nothing or I turn into dead weight. Min says I usually do the former.

It must have worked, though, because as soon as I laid my head down, I dreamt of her again.

I feel her soft skin against mine, my name written on her chest, over her heart; in a language I could not read but somehow knew. I hear her say something about an upcoming battle, as she steps away, and I hear myself say to her, while staring deep into those gorgeous green blue eyes, "Wherever you are will always be home. I refuse to be parted from you, Ghost." I grab her arms and haul her to me, rather roughly, "I promise you, here and now, there will never be a lifetime that you are without me. I will find you; no matter the time or the distance. You are mine to protect; mine to defend. Mine." Somehow my hands are suddenly cupping her face, "My Queen." But then it changes and I am holding her, as her blood flows from a mortal wound. "I will find you, my love," I whisper as her breath on my cheek stops, "I will find you," I sob as I cradle her body close to me, rocking her through the screaming. Which, I suddenly realized, was me, keening out my own heartbreak.

This time it was HyunWoo who woke me up.

"Kihyun, are you alright?"

"Yeah," I answered gruffly. All I wanted was to be left alone or to shower; either way, I could bawl in peace.

"Really? Cause you were screaming."

"I was?"

"Yeah. Like somebody died."

Somehow, I fought back the tears long enough to choke out, "Go get Honey."

HyunWoo took off at a sprint and came back a few seconds later with Honey.

He no more than made it in the door and knew what had happened. He smiled softly and whispered, "You dreamed about her again didn't you?"

It was all I could do to nod. The lump in my throat and the tightness in my chest were growing by the minute, right along with the burning in my eyes. I wanted to scream. I wanted to rage, at myself for not keeping that promise; at him for not protecting her when I couldn't. And sadly, I was angry with her for taking a blow that had been meant for me; for sacrificing herself for me.

I wanted to shriek with a pain I could not name. It hurt like hell. And while my heart squeezed, my soul felt like it was tearing apart at the torture of having to relive it.

"Now, you know how she feels. If she is older, she has seen it many times more than you have."

That one thought alone nearly crushed me. No, I simply could not handle my queen feeling this way; it was absolutely unacceptable.

I sat back to breathe a minute and collect myself. Had she really seen that? Had she watched it differently? She was right, her own pain was unacceptable. It near killed me to know that she had seen her own death, and my reaction to it. I could only hope she did not see what I did in my grief. She would have been so disappointed.

Silently, I grabbed the next chapter out. Then, I carried the first to Honey.

"You and Min should read this," I said as I handed it to him. "It's as much to do with you as me. I had better get this back in exactly the same condition I am handing it over in...Or I tell HER, and let her take it out of your ass."

Both men paled slightly. Guess, after all this time, they are still a little afraid of her.

"We will be extra careful with it," Min said.

As I made my way back down the hall, I heard someone yell.

"What's for supper?"

"Order take out. Leave me alone," I answered as I shut the door.

In twenty minutes, Honey was at my door with supper.

"Went to Mickey's. I got you some nuggets with barbeque sauce and a sweet tea."

"Awesome," I grumbled as my stomach growled.

After a little over a minute, he asked, "Everything ok? Not like you to shut yourself away like this."

"After what I read today, I guess I am just a bit pissed off."

"At?"

"Myself," I sighed. "I said some pretty awful things to her in the past and I am not quite sure how to fix it."

He just laughed as he sat in the chair by my bed, "You just apologize and hope it's enough. Sissie is a whole lot stronger than you think," he said as he pulled out a double quarter with cheese and started to unwrap it.

"You jerk. You got a huge burger and stuck me with the nuggets."

Reaching in the bag, he pulled out another and tossed it towards me. So, I handed over five of my nuggets.

After he swallowed, he said, "Kinda like the old days, huh? Eating spartan, far from home, with your brother-in-law. All that is missing is a fire and a few horses," he laughed as he waved his hand in a circle out in front of us.

I chuckled but he could tell I wasn't laughing.

"C'mon. Talk."

"What if it doesn't work out?"

He snorted as he took a sip of his soda. "You don't know that sister like I do. That girl is the epitome of stubborn. She will move heaven and earth to make sure it works out."

I sighed and nodded.

"Besides," he continued, "If something happens, I drop a bug in Moose's ear and let him and the twins drag her back."

I looked at him over the rim of my glasses, "You wouldn't."

He just laughed, "Kicking and screaming, if need be. Course, if Elm gets to her first, he'll just blister her ass."

"He'd better not. My Queen arrives in less than her current condition and I won't be too happy," I replied. Just then, I took my first sip of tea. It was ok, but not like hers. Just made me miss her more.

"What's wrong? Old?"

"No. But my Queen makes better tea in her sleep."

He clapped his hand on my shoulder and chuckled, "That she does. That she does."

Supper was finished and cleaned up with little in the way of words spoken after that. The evening saw me curling up in my bed with a coffee and the second chapter.

A/N- "If there is a worse place than hell, I am in it." A. Lincoln.

Feels like that today.

#original writing #original fiction #twin souls #soul connection #monsta x fic #kihyun #soul mates #past life

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bamby0304 · 7 years

Text

The Hart: Chapter One

Summary: When Lizzie was just a few months old, she lost her father. Fifteen years later she lost her mother, and then her sister. Now in her early twenties Lizzie spends her days and nights hunting things and saving people. When the Winchesters meet the bright eyed and bubbly blonde they don’t realise what they’re in for… and neither does she…

Part Five: I’m an Aquarius

Masterlist

Warnings: Nope :):)

Bamby

DPOV

The lawyer was back, with a female detective I hadn't met, and a few other people who'd set up a camera in front of me. Sheridan was also back. I didn't like the guy, and it wasn't just because he was a cop. There was something else about him.

"Counsellor." Sheridan nodded to the lawyer. "Your boy decided to confess."

"Mr Winchester, I'd advise against that strongly." the lawyer warned.

Ignoring the lawyer, Sheridan looked to me. "Talk directly into the camera. Start by stating your name for the record."

Clearing my throat, I leaned forward and looking into the camera. "My name is Dean Winchester. I'm an Aquarius. I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and frisky women." I grinned. "And I did not kill anyone. But I know who did." I looked up at Sheridan then as I went on. "Or rather, what did. Of course, can't be for sure, because our investigation was interrupted. But our working theory is that we're looking for some kind of... vengeful spirit."

"Excuse me?" the female detective spoke up.

"You know, Casper the bloodthirsty ghost?" I explained. "Tony Giles saw it. I'll bet you cash money Karen did too. But see, the interesting thing it the word it leaves behind. For some reason, it's trying to tell us something. But communicating across the veil ain't easy. Sometimes the spirits, they get things jumbled. You remember redrum? Same concept. You know, it's, uh... Could be word fragments.

"Other times..." I pulled out the piece of paper I'd written on before, showing it to the camera. "It's anagrams. See, at first, we thought this was a name, Dana Shulps. But now, we think it's a street. Ashland. Whatever's going on, I'm betting it started there." I grinned into the camera again.

"You arrogant bastard." Sheridan shook his head. "Tony and Karen were good people. You're making jokes."

"I'm not joking, Ponch." I knew they wouldn't believe me, but there was a reason why I was doing this...

"You murdered them in cold blood just like that girl in St. Louis!"

"Oh, yeah, that wasn't me either." I turned to the camera as I explained. "That was a shapeshifter creature that only looked like me."

"Get up!" Sheridan grabbed my shoulder and pulled me from my chair, pushing me against the wall.

"Pete, that is enough!" the female detective warned.

"You asked for the truth." I shrugged.

Sheridan let me go and started for the door. "Lock his ass up."

I was turned around by another cop before I felt cuffs wrapping around my wrists once again.

EPOV

I'd followed the guys' instructions. I found the first hotel in the phone book and I booked a room under my alias' name. That was a few hours ago now, and I'd been spending my time waiting while trying to figure out how to finish this case.

A knock on the door of the hotel room had me climbing off my bed in a scurry and hurrying over to see who was here.

I threw the door open and wide smile spread on my lips before I threw my arms around Sam's neck, reaching up on my toes as I did so. "I thought you two were goners. You had me worried sick."

His own arms came around my waist in a hug. "Dean distracted the cops so I could get out of there."

"So..." I stepped back and looked up at him confused, "Are we breaking him out? I mean, I'm all for it. I'd just like to know what the plan is before we dive into this head first. The last thing we need is all three of us behind bars."

But surprisingly, Sam shook his head. "We're not breaking Dean out." he started as he moved to the bed, grabbing some of the information scattered over the blanket before he went to sit at the table. "We're finishing this case first. Dean figured out Dana Shulps is an anagram. There's a street called Ashland. We should look it up." he suggested.

"Okay." I shrugged, a little unsure but I trusted Sam enough to go along with it. "So let's figure out what it is we're dealing with." nodding, I dropped on to the bed again as I started to read through the paper work once more, determined to finally get to the bottom of this.

DPOV

I was back in the interrogation room. Waiting again. Cuffed again. This was getting pretty tiresome, pretty fast.

The door opened as the female detective walked in, not looking too good. If anything, she looked a little scared. But I was too tired to care. After the crap Sheridan put me through, I wasn't really in the mood to play along with whatever crap they wanted me to do now.

"Can we make this quick? I'm a little tired." I told her. "It's been a long day, with you partner assaulting me and all."

She ignored me and asked her question anyway. "I wanna know more about that stuff you were talking about earlier."

"Time Life, Mysteries of the Unknown. Look it up." was all I gave her before turning away.

"Let's pretend for the moment, you're not entirely insane." she started, walking to stand on the other side of the table, right in front of me. "What would one of these things be doing here?"

"A vengeful spirit? Well, they're created by violent deaths. And then they come back for a reason, usually a nasty one. Like revenge on the people that hurt them."

"And, uh, these spirits..." she lifted her hand to scratch at her neck nervously, "they're capable of killing people?"

I grinned, about to give some smartass answer, honestly believe that she was just pulling my leg. That was until my eyes noticed her bruised wrist peeking out from the long sleeve of her jacket. That's when my smile fell.

"Where did you get that?"

She looked down at her wrist, lowering it so she could give me a better look. "I don't know." she checked the other wrist, finding a bruise there as well. "It wasn't there before."

I understood then. "You've seen it, haven't you? The spirit."

"How did you know?"

"Because Karen had the same bruises on her wrists. I bet that if you look at Giles' autopsy photo, he's got them too. It's got something to do with this spirit." I shook my head, unable to put the pieces together. "I don't know what."

The officer turned away from me, taking a couple of steps towards the two-way mirror. She held her wrist as she looked off with a terrified look in her eyes. She was scared, and she had every right to be. Everyone else who'd been in her position is dead.

But there was also doubt in her mind as she tried to rationalize everything. People always tried to find some logical reason behind everything.

"I know. You think you're going crazy. Well, let's skip that part, shall we? Because the last two people who saw this thing, died pretty soon after. You hear me?"

She turned to me again then. "You think I'm gonna die?"

"You need to go to Sam and Liz."

"Liz? Who's Liz?"

"Our friend." I shook my head, going on. "They'll help you."

"You're giving them up?"

"Go to the first motel in the yellow pages. Look for Jim Rockford. It's how Sam and I find each other when we're separated." I told her, knowing perfectly well that I was giving her everything she needed to bring both Sam and Liz to the station. "You can arrest them if you want. Or you can let them save your life."

SPOV

A knock on the door had me turn to Lizzie as she sat on the bed, looking through a file. "You expecting anyone?"

"Nope." she shook her head. "You think Dean got out?"

"I don't know." though I honestly didn't think he would have, I still got up and answered the door to check.

Instead of Dean standing there, it was Diana...

She spoke quickly, not giving me a chance to open my mouth. "Before you slam this door on my face, we need to talk."

"Sam, who is it?" Lizzie asked as she came over to check. That's when she froze behind me. "You do realize she's the cop that arrested you..."

"Yeah, I know." I sighed, stepping back as I opened the door for Diana. "And she's coming in." I could tell there was something she needed to say, and the fact she came alone told me I could trust her.

"So... You must be Hannah." Diana looked Lizzie up and down. "I heard you left town."

Lizzie grinned, moving to sit on the bed again, grabbing one of her strawberry Twizzlers off the night stand. "Well you heard wrong."

"Ah, Diana... How'd you find us here?"

"Dean told me." she answered, turning away from Lizzie as she looked to me. "He said you can help with these." lifting her hands, she showed me her bruised wrists. Curious, I moved closer to get a better look at the bruises as she spoke again. "I saw the... Ghost."

If she was willing to talk about ghosts, then I had no reason not to trust her for the moment. Anything to get the job done. "These showed up after you saw it?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"All right." I let go of her hands. "You're gonna have to tell us exactly what you saw."

But she just shook her head, walking away. "You know, I must be losing my mind. You're a fugitive. I should be arresting you. And you?" she pointed to Lizzie. "I should be taking you in for questioning."

"You got cuffs?" Lizzie winked, raising her hands out in front of her as she pressed her wrists together, Twizzler hanging from the corner of her mouth. "Take me away officer."

"You're not helping, Lizzie." I sighed.

She was a good hunter and becoming a good friend. I liked her. She knew how to be serious and she knew when to joke around. But whenever she didn't like someone, or whenever someone got on her bad side, she could be painfully sarcastic and sassy. It was funny really. She had a lot in common with Dean...

"Look, you can arrest me later, all right. After you live through this. But right now, you gotta talk to me. Okay?" I told Diana who reluctantly nodded. "Okay, great. Now, the spirit, what did it look like?"

"She was... Really pale. And her throat was cut. And her eyes, they were like this deep dark red. It appeared like she was trying to talk to me, but she couldn't. It was just a lot of blood." she took a seat on the other bed then.

"You know what? Here." I moved over to the table, grabbing a bunch of photos I'd gathered. "Lizzie and I have been researching every girl who's died or gone missing from Ashland Street."

Diana frowned as she stood and moved towards me, looking down at the photos. "How'd you get those? Those are from crime scenes and booking photos."

I just gave a light chuckle and short shrug. "You have your job, I have mine." I answered, handing her the photos. "I need you to look through these, tell me if you recognize anyone."

Taking the photos, she sat on Lizzie's bed and began to look. Lizzie and I waited patiently as she flicked through them, giving each a scan before moving on. She's been through about half the pile when she stopped.

"This is her."

Lizzie looked over her shoulder and at the picture. "Are you sure?" she asked, attitude missing from her tone, now back to business.

"Yes." Diana nodded. "I'm sure of it."

I reached over and grabbed the photo. "'Claire Becker, twenty-eight years old. Disappeared about eight or nine months ago.'"

"But I don't even know her." Diana insisted. "Why would she come after me?"

"Well, before her death, she was arrested twice for dealing heroin." I noted. "You ever work Narcotics?"

"Yeah. Pete and I did. Before Homicide."

I lifted the photo so she could see Claire's face again. "You ever bust her?"

Diana shook her head. "Not that I remember."

Sighing, Lizzie crawled off the bed and came to sit next to me, grabbing Claire's report. "Apparently she was last seen entering 2911 Ashland Street. The police searched the place, but didn't find anything." she dropped the papers and turned to me. "We checking it out? See if we can find the body?"

"What?" Diana's eyes went wide.

"Well... We gotta salt and burn the bones." I explained. "It's the only way to put her spirit to rest."

"Of course it is."

"I call shotgun!" Lizzie grinned as she got up from her seat and headed for the door.

EPOV

Sam, Diana and I entered the abandoned building on Ashland Street. The place was covered in dust and dirt, spider webs stretching everywhere and anywhere in the many rooms and hallways of the place.

With my torch shining in front of us, I lead our small group, moving slowly and carefully as I made sure we looked for any give away where a body might be buried or hidden.

"So, what exactly are we looking for?" Diana asked from the back of the group.

I didn't trust the woman. But I didn't really trust any cop or fed. It was one of the many branches of my trust-issue tree.

"I'll let you know when we find it." Sam answered before he tapped my shoulder and pointed over to some stairs. "You wanna check it out?"

Nodding I turned to look at Diana. "Stay down here and call us if you see anything?" I told her before Sam and I went to leave.

Before we could get far, she called out to me. "See what?"

Rolling my eyes and supressing a sigh, I looked over my shoulder at her. "I don't know. Like a scary ghost or a rotting body." I shrugged. "Something along the lines of that." I told her before continuing for the stairs, Sam right behind me.

I hadn't always been like this when it came to cops. My mum had actually been a cop. I'd loved every bit of it growing up. Going to the station, riding in the car, playing with the siren. My mum was a hero. A super hero to me.

But then she died. My sister wasn't too far behind her. I was left alone and I was angry. Following the monsters that had killed my family. I dodged the cops and social services for ages. They were just distractions and obstacles in the way of my revenge.

Then I'd gotten my revenge and calmed down, but the chase for me didn't. I was on the run again, killing whatever monsters I found on the way. Going from hotel to hotel. Perfecting the art of lying. Learning how to pick locks and hotwire cars. I did whatever I could to keep distance between me and the law.

I'd prefer it to stay that way. I really didn't want to end up behind bars, and I would do pretty much anything to make sure that never happened.

"You know, you don't have to be so mean to her." Sam spoke as we moved from room to room, looking for any signs of a body or ghost. "She's confused and scared."

"Please." I rolled my eyes. "She's just waiting for us to save her ass so she can lock a pair of cuffs on each of us and send us down the yellow brick road, all the way to prison."

Sam shook his head. "Come on, Lizzie. She's nothing like that. We need her help, she needs ours. That's all. Once we're done here, we'll all part ways."

"You say it like you mean it. Like you've been through something like this before." I watched him carefully. "Have you worked with cops before. And I don't mean like how you and Dean pretend to be FBI. I mean, have other cops found out the truth about what you do?"

"Yeah." he shrugged. "A couple times."

"And you trusted them?"

"You gotta trust some people sometimes, Lizzie."

"Sam!"

Sam and I turned for the door without hesitating a second. We ran for the stairs, rushing down them as fast as we could as we ran in the direction Diana's voice had come from.

She was scared and something was clearly wrong. She needed us, and at that moment she wasn't a cop. She was someone I had to save.

"Hey!" Sam and I came around the corner, seeing Diana's pressed against the wall shaking. "Hey, we're here. What is it?" he asked, a little out of breath. "What happened?"

"Claire."

I turned to shine the light of my torch around the room. "Where?"

"She was here."

"Did she attack you?" Sam asked her, a look of panic in his eyes.

"No. No, she was just, like, reaching out to me. She was over there by the window." Diana gestured to the window she was facing. Sam and I watched as she moved to the shelf under the window. "Help me move this."

Both Sam and I stepped up and grabbed a side of the shelf and dragged it along the floor, moving it out of the way so Diana could get a better look at the window.

Through the glass we could see the letters D-N-A-L-H-S-A-P-U-S painted. It was fading, and a lot of letters were missing, but it was obviously a sign which once meant something, and considering it was backwards, I guessed it had once said 'Ashland Supplies'.

Diana shone her torch on to the glass. "Our little mystery word."

"Now the extra letters make sense." Sam turned so he was facing the wall opposite the window as he pulled out his EMF reader.

"What is that?" Diana asked, looking around him to see the device.

"Spirits and certain remains give off electro-magnetic frequencies." Sam explained as he started stepping closer to the wall step by step.

Diana followed Sam curiously. "So if Claire's body was here, that would indicate that?"

"That's the theory anyway." I shrugged, looking around for something heavy I could use to break down the wall. Just as I grabbed a slightly heavy, and old pipe, the EMF reader began to beep. "Jackpot."

"Here." Sam gestured to the pipe. "I've got it."

I had wanted to smash the wall down, but I had a feeling I wouldn't have done much damage. The wall looked pretty sturdy, and the pipe was pretty heavy. So I handed it over to Sam and stepped back with Diana, the two of us watching as he brought down the wall brick by brick, until there was a gap big enough for him to look inside.

"Yeah." he nodded, pulling back from the hole. "There's definitely something in there." he grabbed the pipe again, and started to hit the wall once more. "You know..." he grunted as he worked. "This is bothering me."

"Well, you are digging up a corpse." Diana shrugged.

"No, not that. That's pretty par for the course, actually." Sam chuckled lightly.

"Then what?"

"It's just... I mean, no vengeful sprit I've ever tussled with wanted to be wasted. What about you?" he asked me.

I shook my head. "Nope. All nasty assholes who wanna stay right where they are."

"Exactly. So why the hell would Claire lead us to her remains? It doesn't make any sense." he finished breaking down enough bricks then. "All right, Lizzie, give me a hand."

Sam and I reached into the gap in the wall and grabbed on to what I could only assume was a body wrapping in some sort of sheet. Pulling it out, we carefully moved to lay it down on the ground. Diana came to see what was under sheet as Sam and I pulled it away.

Sure enough, there was a body.

Diana reached for the wrists, seeing them bound together.

"Her wrists." Sam nodded, looking from Diana's to the body's. "Yeah, they'd be bruised just like yours."

Something else caught Diana's attention then. Reaching forward, she lifted the necklace from Claire's body.

"That mean anything to you?" I asked from where I was crouched beside her.

"I've seen it before. It's rare. It was custom-made over on Carson Street. I have one just like it." she reached into her shirt and pulled her own necklace out. "Pete gave it to me."

"Holy shit." I shook my head, standing up. "See, this is why I don't trust the police."

Sam stood as well, ignoring my comment. "Now this all makes perfect sense."

"I'm sorry?" Diana was clearly confused.

Sighing, I explained it to her. "Claire isn't a vengeful spirit. She's a death omen. She's not killing anyone. She's trying to warn them." when Diana still look confused, I went on. "Some spirits aren't assholes. Some just want justice. Claire led us here for that. She wants us to know who killed her."

It took a moment longer, but eventually there was a change in Diana's face, and it was clear she understood what Sam and I had figured out.

Sam hesitated a moment before asking, "Detective, how much do you know about your partner?"

Diana's jaw dropped. "Oh, my God."

"What?" Sam and I asked at the same time.

"About a year ago, some heroin went missing from lockup. Obviously if was a cop. We never found out who did it. But whoever did it would need someone to fence their product."

Sam nodded. "Somebody like a heroin dealer. Somebody like Claire."

DPOV

"So I'm being extradited to St. Louis, huh?" I asked as I sat in the back of the police van, still hand cuffed. Sheridan was driving, escorting me alone. Which was not giving me good vibes. "And you just decided to transfer me yourself, eight hundred miles at two in the morning?" when he stayed silent, I knew I was in trouble. "This can't be good."

SPOV

"All right, thanks." Diana hung up the phone.

I turned to look at her from where I sat in the passenger seat. It was clear something was wrong. "What is it?"

"Pete just left the precinct. With Dean."

Lizzie leaned closer to Diana. "What!?"

"He said the prisoner had to be transferred, and he just took him. Dispatch has been calling. But he won't answer the radio." Diana explained.

"Radio?" I frowned. "He took a county vehicle?"

"Yeah."

"Then it should have a LoJack." I shrugged. "You just gotta get it turned on."

DPOV

The van came to a stop, and from what I could see, we were in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by trees. There probably wasn't another soul within the mile...

"Pee break? So Soon? You know, you might wanna get your prostate checked." I joked, hoping the situation wasn't going where it looked to be. Instead of replying, Sheridan got out of the vehicle and started to move to the back of it. "Son of a bitch." Here it comes... Sure enough, he opened the back doors. "Hey, I'm cool in the van. You go do what you gotta do."

He reached for me and pulled me out of the van, throwing me on to the dirt. "You're a cocky son of a bitch. You think those people in St. Louis are gonna buy that crap you telling? Here's the thing. You're not gonna make it to St. Louis. You're gonna die trying to escape." he pulled his gun out and aimed it at me.

"Wait!" I lifted my hands up in defence. "Wait. Let's talk about this. You don't wanna do something you're gonna regret." but he just cocked the gone. "Or maybe you do."

"Pete."

We both turned to see the female detective standing a few feet away, her own gun raised at Sheridan. Behind her stood Sam and Liz. The moment Sheridan turned to them, Sam lifted his hands in the air while Liz pulled out her own gun and aimed it at Pete.

"Put the gun down, Pete." the female detective warned.

"Diana?" Sheridan shook his head, shocked. "How'd you find me?"

"I know about Claire."

"I don't know what you're talking about." it was clear Sheridan was guilty, yet he was still trying to play the innocent card.

Diana wasn't buying any of Sheridan's crap. "Put the gun down."

"Oh, I don't think so. You're fast." Sheridan shrugged. "Pretty sure I'm faster."

Liz spoke up. "You think you're faster than two bullets, Pete."

Sheridan laughed. "Oh, you're not gonna shoot me. I'm a cop. You're a civilian. It's a fast way to get locked up."

When Liz tensed, getting ready to pull the trigger, I shook my head at her, hoping she wouldn't do it. "Elizabeth, don't."

She eased up a bit, doing as I said. But I could see the hesitation in her eyes. She wanted to. She wanted to shoot him, even if that meant killing a cop.

"Why are you doing this, Pete?" Diana asked.

"I didn't do anything." Sheridan insisted.

"It's a little late for that."

"It wasn't my fault. Claire was gonna turn me in. I had no choice."

"And Tony? Karen?"

"Same thing. Tony scrubbed the money. Then he got skittish, and then he wanted to come clean. I'm sure he told Karen everything. It was a mess, I had to clean it up. I just panicked."

"How many more people are gonna die over this, Pete?"

"There's a way out. This Dean kid's a frigging gift. We can pin the whole thing on him. Okay? No trail, nothing, just one more dead scumbag."

I turned to glare at him then. "Hey."

He just pointed the gun at me again, causing me to shut up. Looking to Diana again, he went on. "No one will question it. Diana, please. I still love you."

It took a second or two, but Diana actually lowered her gun.

Thinking he'd won, Sheridan smiled at her. "Thank you. Thank you." then he turned to me again, ready to pull the trigger.

It all happened so quickly. Two shots went off and I thought for sure I was dead. But it was Sheridan who fell to the ground. That's when I realized I wasn't hit, so I quickly rolled out of the way.

"Dean!" Liz dropped her gun as she and Sam hurried over to me.

Diana walked up to Sheridan casually. "Yeah, why don't you buy me another necklace, you ass."

Sheridan grabbed at her legs and tripped her before he reached over and grabbed his gun again, aiming it at Sam and Liz. The two of them froze and my heart sunk. I couldn't watch my brother and our friend die. I couldn't let this asshole take them like that.

"Don't do it. Don't do it." Sheridan warned. He looked from Sam, to Liz, to me and then down at Diana. It was clear he was ready to kill her, and then the rest of us.

It was a groan that stopped him.

Sheridan turned to find a ghost of a woman standing behind him. She was pale, with red eyes and a cut throat. She was the ghost we'd been looking for.

Frozen in fear and confusion, Sheridan was distracted long enough for Diana to grab her gun and shoot him in the back, right through the chest. He fell to the ground, hard and heavy dying in a matter of moments.

EPOV

With the bad cop dead and dealt with, I hurried over to Dean. "Are you okay?" I asked as I pulled a clip out of my hair and started to pick the locks of his cuffs.

"Uh... Yeah. But there were two shots... I wasn't hit. Diana didn't have time to pull the trigger that fast." he looked up at me. "Did you shoot him?"

Shrugging, I successfully unlocked one wrist before moving to the other. "You're my friend. You were in danger. Kinda felt like I had to do something."

He grinned. "So you were willing to kill a man, a cop, to save my ass?"

Looking up at him, I gave a short nod. "Yeah."

"Does this mean I can start calling you Liz?"

I rolled my eyes, finishing with the second cuff. "I guess you've earned that right."

Sam came over to us then, offering Dean and hand. The three of us stood and turned to look over at Diana as she crouched by her partner's body. He was dead, there was no doubt about it. He was bad, that was obvious. But that didn't mean she wasn't hurting.

"You doing all right?" Sam asked her.

Sighing, she got to her feet and started towards us. "Not really. The death omen, Claire. What happens to her now?"

"It should be over." Sam answered. "She should be at rest."

"So..." Dean shifted on the spot. "What now, officer?"

"Yeah, you gonna arrest us?" I lifted my hands in front of me, pressing my wrists together. "Take us down to the station? I mean, I did shoot a cop."

Diana just shook her head. "Pete did confess to me, he screwed up both your cases royally. I'd say there's a good chance that we can get your cases dismissed." she noted to the guys before turning to me. "And you shot him in self-defence... Kind of."

Sam was impressed and surprised- almost as surprised as I was. "You could take care of all that for us?"

"I hope so." Diana shrugged. "But the St. Louis murder charges? That's another story. I can't help you. Unless... I just happened to turn my back and you walked away. I could tell them the suspects escaped."

"Wait, are you sure?"

Dean turned to his brother quickly. "Yeah, she's sure, Sam."

"No, it's just you could lose your job over something like that." Sam had a good point.

"Look, I just want you three out there doing what you do best. Trust me. I'll sleep better at night." she went to turn away before she stopped. "Listen, you need to watch your back. They're gonna be looking for all over you now."

"Great." I sighed.

"Get out of here. I gotta radio this in."

Before Diana could leave, Dean stopped her. "Hey, wouldn't happen to know where my car is by chance?"

"It's at the impound yard on Robertson." she answered, looking to each of us before shaking her head. "Don't even think about it."

"It okay, it's all right." Sam assured her. "Don't worry. We'll, uh... We'll just improvise. We're pretty good at that."

"Yeah, I've noticed." she smiled. The three of us went to turn and leave, but this time she stopped us. "Uh, Lizzie, can I have a moment?"

I paused and looked to the guys, giving them a nod each to let them know I was okay, before I turned and walked back to Diana. "What's up?"

"I know you don't trust police, and I can understand why. But maybe you should try letting people in. You'll probably find it'll help." she rested her hand on my arm comfortingly. "People aren't all bad." was all she said before she finally walked off.

Her words had shocked me. As much as I hadn't liked her in the beginning, I guess all the violence and drama had helped me warm up to her. It didn't change my opinion on all cops, but it at least had me giving this one a chance.

Turning around, I hurried after the brother, catching up with them quickly enough.

Dean looked at me as I came to walk on his right. "Everything okay?"

I gave him a light smile. "Everything's fine."

Diana was right. It was about time I started letting people in. It was time I stopped guarding myself, and started trusting my gut instinct.

Sam and Dean, they're good people. I knew I could trust them, and I was sure they trusted me. I hadn't lied to Dean. I meant it when I said I was willing to kill a cop if it meant saving Dean. The same went for Sam. They were my friends, and it was becoming pretty clear that we were going to be together for a while.

Bamby

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serensama · 7 years

Note

okay his is not a request, i just wanted to share this with you bc you’re adorable and i absolutely love you and your writing ♥♥♥ they way you portray the characters, their feelings, actions and thoughts is just SO AMAZING). Anyway, here it goes: i had an angsty mm related dream in which mc joins the rfa and everything happens just like in the game, except jumin takes really longer to come to terms with the fact that he’s actually in love with mc as he struggles with doubt (1-3)

THAT SOUNDS LIKE AN AMAZING DREAM DARLING!!!! The only dreams I have are … of a more… um… different nature.

Now I know you said this wasn’t a request but… what the hey- I wanted to write something quickly because… I could… It’s really nothing, let’s be honest I wrote this in less than an hour so it probably doesn’t even make sense- but let’s hope you enjoy it nonetheless my darling.

PS- You’re adorable and I love that you sent this in to me and I’m super super happy that you’ve found enjoyment out of my ramble of words my dear ^_^b

Jumin straightenedhis tie for the fifth time in the last ten minutes, he pulled on his gloves andhe bit his lip. Today was the day he was going to tell her. It was horrible. Itwas cruel. But he knew- if he didn’t- he’d live with the regret and pain forthe rest of his life. If he could have stopped this, if he could have the girl-he was going to do everything in his power to make his dream a reality.

It wasn’tright for him to do this, he understood this- he was after all a logical andpragmatic man. He didn’t do things by halves… but that often meant that he tooktoo long to deliberate. He took too long with MC and now she was slipping outof his grasp forever. She didn’t know how he felt- how could she when he didn’tknow himself? How much more was he going to lose out on because of these damnedemotions that flurried inside of him?

MC… I love you. I’m sorry to do this to you onyour wedding day but…

“Jumin! You look amazing- I just got your message… what did you want totalk about? I still need to put on my veil…”

“… You need to know that I have loved you fromthe moment I heard your voice. The moment you said my name. The moment you mademe laugh. The moment you came into my world and everything stopped and started,everything made sense and confused me, everything was right in the world but I didn’tknow it was because of you. I’m sorry it took me so long to realise this. I’msorry that I chose today, right now, to tell you- but if I didn’t… and I walkedyou down that aisle to marry a man that should have been me… without you everknowing… it would destroy me.”

She lookedat him as if he had just told her that her entire family was killed in ahorrific and painful accident. Tears sprung forth from her eyes as she fell tothe ground, her body shaking with tears she couldn’t control; her hands balledin the skirt of her perfect ivory dress, wrinkling the material.

“Why areyou doing this? Why are you telling me this? How could you do this to me Jumin?If you loved me at all… you wouldn’t do this to me… you selfish, heartlessbastard!”“If this… I… you wouldn’t be so upset at me if you didn’t feel the same way…”

“… You’veruined what should have been the happiest day of my life Jumin, no one whoclaims to love someone would do this to them… not like this… no… you only loveyourself… you only care about yourself just- get out… leave… LEAVE!”

Jumin wasconvinced that not only had he destroyed himself, but destroyed theirfriendship irrevocably. Was this what lack of regret was meant to feel like? Hewanted nothing more than to feel nothing, ever again.

She staredup at him for what seemed like an eternity- eyes wide, mouth opened… beforethrowing her arms around him and slanting her lips over his own. He had missedthis, the feeling of her warmth in his arms, her scent enveloping him and thetaste of her playing across his tongue. He felt warm, wet trails of tears fallbetween them as she continued to ravage his mouth, his gloved hands wiping awaythe salty beads, fingers coiling themselves into her intricately fashionedhair. “Thank God,” she breathed onto his lips as they parted, the tips of their nosesstill touching. “Thank God, thank you and thank everything that happened to getyou here to me in time… I… I’ve been in love with you for so long but you neverreturned my feelings so I thought I had to move on… but you’re here… and you loveme… let’s leave-”

“What? MC,we need to tell everyone what’s happening here-”“No… no we don’t. If they don’t see me and they don’t see you they’ll knowexactly what happened… they’ll be happy for us Jumin… let’s go. Right now.”

“And wherewill we go MC?” he asked pressing his forehead to hers, swept up in the joy andlove that welled up in his heart.

“Anywhere,”she beamed up at him, “as long as it’s with you, I don’t care where we are.”

Running outof the church hand in hand, passing the other shocked RFA members, they rushedoff to wherever their heart called them.

Jumin wasconvinced that miracles did happen and that one of them was currently wrappedup in his arms in the back seat of his town car. He was never going to let hergo now that he had her- and it would take nothing less than another miracle forhim to be separated from her.

She fellback, her shoulders and head hitting the adjacent wall. Patting behind her shefelt a vacant chair beneath her and quickly sank onto the padded seat. Shestarted to hyperventilate, one hand gripping the arm of the chair, the other clawingat the exposed skin leaving angry red marks on her chest. Jumin rushed over toher and knelt in front of her, grasping her face with both hands he instructedher to breathe with him, in and out- slowly and deeply- that’s good… keepgoing.

“MC… I’m… I’mso sorry- I didn’t meant to…” “Help me Jumin…”

That gothis attention.

“Help…h-help you? How? What’s wrong? Apart fromthe obvious.”“…. He’s not a good man. If he knows that you still care about me… Oh God… no… Jumin, you need to leave… forget I said anything…you need to leave-”

“MC… calmdown. Start from the beginning, I don’t understand-”“He’s from Mint Eye Jumin! I didn’t know when I started dating him or even whenI accepted his proposal but he was sent to keep an eye on all of us! I didn’tknow! I thought he loved me- but when I found out- he said that I had to marryhim otherwise he’d kill you and kidnap Saeyoung and Saeran… he said that if youeven showed the slightest amount of love for me… he’d make your death the worstof all and he’d make me watch and please Jumin- please leave he’s crazy, I don’tknow what he’ll do to you…”“I’m not leaving you MC are you mad? After you’ve told me this? I need to getyou and the others safe- I need to make sure that this man is stopped and-”“All you’re going to do… is let go of my fiancé…”

“J-Jumin…run!”

“… and thendie.” “Jumin!”

Jumin wasconvinced nothing was more painful than seeing MC crying, her tears washingover him like some perverse baptism; no… nothing hurt could hurt as much… not even the bullet clawing its way throughhis lungs.

Justsmile for me… just once more… please… make the pain stop…

“JUMIN!”

“Jumin!”

“-Sorry what?”

“… Yourmessage? You said you had something to talk to me about?”Jumin shook himself out of his reverie and ran his hand through his thick ebonylocks, huffing out a wavering breath.

“You lookamazing MC… he is a lucky man.”

The womanbefore him laughed and threw her arms around him, drawing him into a quick butfirm hug, “Did you call me out just to tell me that Jumin- oh honey you reallyare the sweetest-”“You look happy… you’re happy right MC?” he asked all of a sudden, his voicebelying the turmoil that wrenched inside him. She smiled kindly, her eyessoftening as she nodded.

“Yes,happier than I ever thought I would be. Thank you. Thank you for making thisday truly special for me Jumin.”“I love you MC.”

There he said it.

“I love youtoo Jumin.

That would have to be enough.

Taking bothher hands into his, he pressed a kiss to each and squeezed at her fingers.

You can do this Jumin. She needs you to dothis. You need to do this for yourself.

“Well, then…I feel rather foolish for bringing you out here for nothing…”

“Oh Jumin-you can call me for anything. I’m your friend.”

He smiled,his expression of affection tainted with melancholy; he swiped his thumb tobrush along her jawline- this would haveto be enough now.

“And I amyours.”

#mystic messenger #april answers #mysmes #mysme #angst #fluff #what if #mystic messenger head canon #mystic messenger fanfic #jumin x mc #not a request but i did it anyways

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chxrlesstuff · 4 years

Text

The Flowers Between us

A cracked tarmac road tore through the rolling hills of the yellow-tinted countryside. Despite its popularity for travellers to the nearby town in warmer months, this morning only a crimson pushbike plagued with spots of rust rattled up the stretch. Atop the two-wheeled beast sat a young boy, cheeks dotted with freckles and chestnut eyes. He was the picture of youth. But such a childlike grace did not reach his lips, now upturned in a solemn scowl. From his furrowed brow to eyebrows arched so sharply, it was obvious today was no exception from being his usual self, always pissed-off, frustration instilling every violent pump his scrawny legs wore upon the whirring pedals.

It wasn’t the tragic death of his father, mother or the hope for a remotely cheerful childhood that formed this broken boy. It was the separation from just about the only person he had known enough to care for; his Emily. And no, the boy did not consider himself as much of a romantic, but today he was keeping up that starry-eyed facade. For he had finally worked up the courage to finally visit her again.

He accelerated downhill, becoming a blur of red and white. The boy found peace in these daring moments: his hair tugged back by the breaking wind, his Arsenal jersey - maybe a few sizes too large - draping behind him like superman’s cape, and the bike’s worn gears whisking like a drawn fishing rod. Despite the veiling pools of morning fog that seemed to be spilling out of from the tree line, he could recognize every little flaw worn into the road’s surface.

He leaned in anticipation of the next turn without slowing. The tree line to his left, separated from the road only by a metal railing, curled to the right and drew his eyes away from the road. It seemed as if he was not moving; only the surrounding world was racing past him. But the oakwood trunks and emerald leaves grew thin as he moved forward. The tree line fell away to reveal a cliffside, carved into the mountain’s flank by years of slow but relentless erosion. The road snapped straight, and he returned his gaze forward. Where he expected to see a clear path, a figure’s shadowy silhouette stood veiled in the morning mist.

He grasped the pushbike’s breaks instinctively, setting the defective gears into a squealing fit as corroded metal hit metal. But it was too late, the bike continued to scream forward. He tore the steering bar left in a desperate attempt to avoid the collision as the turning wheels marked dark skid marks upon the tarmac behind him. The lane soon had no more width to give the speeding bike as he headed straight towards the railing. The rusted front wheel crashed into the sturdy barrier. Instead of crushing itself upon impact, the back wheel went upwards like a third-grader practicing her first handstand. He was launched like rock from a catapult. Had he tumbled over any other part of the cliffside, he would have met a thirty-metre freefall followed by a fairly swift, unpleasant introduction to the ground below. But instead he found himself landing face first onto a flower-littered outcropping that had not yet fallen away from the cliff-face.

A head popped up over the railing. It was a girl’s face, equipped with youthful yet sharp, stunning features. Her outfit was obnoxiously coordinated. Two dark blue clips clung to black hair that only reached her shoulders, a deep blue leather jacket wrapped her slim figure, followed by a pair of denim jeans; ripped in several places. Whether the tears were a purposeful fashion statement or the signs of an unfortunate tumble, the boy couldn’t say. Her adolescent face was set in a sympathetic grimace. But this was not out of pity for the boy. She was assessing the damage the flung body had wrought upon the various, wildly coloured flowers that littered the grassy ledge, this was a garden they would come to be away from everything. Between the flowers, this place was their own little secret. It was where they had first met; when two young, naive runaways from opposite sides of town had somehow both found themselves stopped at a roadside outcropping, admiring the beautiful scene.

The girl opened her mouth to recall the memory, but the boy caught her tongue,

“I’m sure you’re flattered that I came all the way out here Em.” He spoke without lifting his head, just trying to play it cool, as if he hadn’t just turned the garden into a personal landing pad.

“Oh, you poor little thing,” she countered with an all too obvious tone of amusement. A hand was covering her mouth, trying in vain to hide a childish smirk. “That graceful little faceplant must’ve got you all concussed, because I don’t remember asking you here, but I guess the garden was missing something - I always liked garden gnomes. I shall call him Dopey”

The boy (or Dopey, as Em had decided to call him today) finally lifted his head from the bed of daisies, spitting out a few petals. After vaulting the fencing ever-so-quietly, Em’s sky-blue Converse appeared in front of his dirt-spotted nose. “You know…” he paused whilst sitting up to meet Em’s empty blue eyes, realising how long it had been long since he last rattled off his endless troubles to her, “…the girl I was crushin’ on, her dad is a crazy butcher who wants to skin me alive; I’ve got two parents, both dead, and a drunkard for an uncle is the only one left to take care of me. So, can you take a hint that I might not be in the right mind for you to call me names anymore.”

“Well I’m very sorry, you know I’m sure we could find another name that’d stick.”

The boy could see that familiar sparkle in her eye, the one that would only show itself moments before tragedy struck. Well… tragedy to his ego that is. The ritual teasing began.

“How about flowerpot?”

“Not in the mood Em,” the boy growled.

Ignoring the boy’s less than enthusiastic reaction, she continued her playful assault- “Of course! It’s been right in front of me the whole time!” She motioned to the plant life-- flowers and tall grass, crushed down in the outline of his face. She put her hands together, connecting each fingertip to its opposite on the other hand, embodying a businessman about to propose his next best marketing strategy. She took on a deep, grumbling tone; a salesman ready to sell her idea. “Let’s say we call you Faceplant. It’s almost poetic!”

He met her eyes with a look that said please stop, but in her teasing mood she only read this as a sign that she was getting to him, so why stop now?

She continued the impression, leaning in closer “Okay-okay, I hear you! But hear me out now. Picture this!” She spread her hands outward for dramatic effect. “The destroyer of all flower-kind… the man… the myth… Grass-ass!”

He wasn’t going to give the attention she craved after that little performance.

He turned away from her, “can anyone else hear something? I could’ve sworn I heard a voice. Must’ve just been the breeze I guess.”

There were only three things on this earth that Em truly despised; the colour pink, rom-coms, and being ignored… you weren’t meant to talk about either of them.

She bent down, grabbed the corner of his ear and cupped her hands just to make sure the boy would catch every word. And she didn’t lose the voice - not one bit.

“DID YOU HEAR ME? GRASS… ASS!”

The banshee’s shriek hammered his eardrums. He tried not to show any signs of amusement at Em’s childish nature and failed miserably. He was the first to laugh; a sharp, repetitive snicker. She followed his lead with the precious giggle he cherished every moment it graced his ears. He tried to grab her arms, missed, yet she still fell down next to him. They rolled about the grassy ledge, crushing even more of the poor wildflowers. She reached behind him, supposedly brushing petals off the back of his shirt. It was not long before they found themselves embracing each other, cuddling amongst the crushed flowerbed. They were three steps away from the edge. Neither cared, they were just two kids again. Danger seemed nothing more than an old friend.

She put her forehead to his and whispered ever so softly. “Okay, I guess the names did sound a lot better in my head.”

“All your jokes do.”

The blue-clad girl pulled away, then sunk into a cross-legged seat upon the masses of white dandelions, tulips and daisies. She took her small, pale hands down to gently cradle his head. She brought her face down to his. He couldn’t even feel her hands, but he didn’t need to. The boy was instantly levelled by her stare. He didn’t like the way she could silence everything about him with a single look. The icy attitude, the short-fused frustration. He would use this hostile nature to defend himself from others getting too close to him, everyone saw him as this… ticking time-bomb, but not with her. All that aggression escaped him now, it melted away in the pure pleasance that radiated from her smile, a smile he had not seen in far too long.

Without notice, a peaceful silence had now crept into the air between them. Neither seemed to care, they had grown so comfortable with one another that such a thing as an awkward silence was unheard of. Being together was enough. He had never really understood a human’s need for that annoying, constant exchange of information, especially with someone you truly know.

“That's when you know you've found somebody really special. When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably share silence.” The boy whispered, quoting that genius line from his favourite film. It had come out only as a whisper the breeze carried to her, as if they were sharing their own little secret. He noted the upturned corners of her mouth, the tell-tale sign that she was remembering an older time; the night she had waited for him to sneak across the town to her. With the moon as their only witness, they had watched Pulp Fiction that night, instantly cementing it as one of their favourites. Not because of the movie itself, but the memory that had attached itself. He would recall those cherished moments, still feel the stillness in the air, a stillness that spoke volumes of calmness, peace and acceptance to the boy’s tragic upbringing. He shouldn’t be reminiscing, but it was because of Emily, that he realised the past was set in the past, those rotten memories could no longer reach out and pull him back to his Uncle, that cursed house, that place of trauma, not here. He was in a constant state of elevation with her, as if he was now living above the demons that for so long were an undeniable part of him.

Whilst he felt many things today, the sensation he felt was only a cheap replica.

“I used to think I just missed your voice, Em.” She turned to him as he muttered those ill-fated words. Even with all his strength, he could not meet her gaze. He kept his eyes to the ground, pulling at the grass with nervous fingers.

“I’d tell myself everything I’d say to you when I came up here, and everything you would say back. But now I’m only just starting to realise it was the little things, the things you would say, the things you would do, the things I could never hope to predict or ever imagine. Those were what made you who you are, and who you were to me. I wish it were different, I really do. But that girl is no longer here.”

There it was, the truth. Within a heartbeat, his words cut the air between them. The world seemed to freeze over, a chill danced up his spine. He felt lifeless, weightless, purposeless, all at once. This was how things would be without her, he could no longer deny this truth. Yet he knew he could not live like this.

Em, or what was the spirit, the memory, the ghost the boy had conjured of her, held between him a blank, empty stare. The colour in her lips, her eyes, her cheeks, it all drained away until she was nothing more than a pale ghost of the girl that he knew, the girl that could no longer be with him.

“Please… I’m here with you. I’m here.” She spoke with a tone so shaky it was as if she was trying to convince herself. The boy tried to close his eyes, shut her out, forget. But there was a part of him, a part that did not want to let go. Tears began gathering beneath his closed eyelids, he opened and let them flow down his cheeks. He tried to speak, couldn’t, then tried again, conjuring the words together, just trying to not break out into a wailing fit.

“The crash took you away from me, but it also did something to me. They said I have brain damage, that I need surgery.”

“But I’m here!” The ghostly figure howled. It seemed to be crying too. Through cloudy eyes he saw it reach for his hand. But its shaky palms passed through it. The spirit, whatever it was, looked down at the hand, he recognised a look on its face, a look of betrayal.

“No, you’re not. I’ve been waiting. Waiting for you to come back to me…” His voice broke, and he looked up at what was left of the girl he loved, trying to think of a way to fix this.

“I have to go.”

The ghost reached out to him, trying to pull the boy back, back into the delusion. But the cursed hands simply passed through him once again. He stepped back from her and bent down, searching with shaking hands through the undergrowth. He finally settled upon two, and gently broke them from the stem.

First, a pink rose – the first flower he had given her when he told Emily he loved her.

Second, a blue lily, the last flower he gave her before the accident. Now it will be the last he ever would.

He smiled at the bouquet. This time the smile reached his eyes, they no longer held grief, only acceptance. When he brought his gaze up, there was no ghostly figure, only an elegant stone grave, Emily Lilac carved into its face. He placed the flowers upon its base.

It was flowers that had first brought them together, and now it was flowers that were between them. It was almost poetic, he liked that.

#short story #writers on tumblr #my writing #romance #teenfiction

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