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star dust [namgi]

don’t judge me because
i sin differently than you do.

dieter f. uchtdorf

fucking boomers

yoongi dashes through the long crowd of denizens, boots splattering the puddles, huffs sharp and nimble. he runs with wide bounds as one of each leap moves swiftly in the speed of light. natural cerulean locks flashed boldly with the

crates of harvests were knocked down, boxes crashing on the ground and a handful of those crops were stomped into pieces.

he turns back to see the predator still catching behind, not wanting to stop not until those hands got him.

a lot of turns and jumps and bumps, shoes steadily clattering as it hits the wet cobblestone pathways, and yet the monster behind had its pace the same. yoongi isn’t making a progress though the too narrow surroundings should be enough for him to escape from the hungry demon, it just won’t give up.

people can be heard protesting as they are shoved to the side, crude mouths distinctly murmuring what they think as the most savage roast they made by mixing a bunch of their antiquated, so-called adroit vocabulary.

they raise their heads too high with a blind thought that of their insolent attitude will make them the right in the situation.

fucking boomers.

the young lad who seems to not give a damn continues to flee for his life. it’s not the townspeople’s problem they couldn’t see the dark spirits chasing him, but that doesn’t give them the right to humiliate and destroy his dignity right in front of a public market.

with the insults hurting him he runs nevertheless. he runs away both from the monster, and his own race that humiliated him.

“no... no!”

a tear threatens to fall from his eye, as despicable how it looks being shamed with your own blood yoongi couldn’t blame anyone but himself for being ill.

no one knew about his ‘twisted abilities,’ yet their words seem to found out everything about him.

the boy with a red cloak who wanders down the deepest paths of the woods and the farthest of the resplendent towns his feet can run on. often are the unnecessary tittle-tattles of biddies and the offensive comments of bozos. whispers are everywhere calling him out, those voices calling him are the shadows he despise.


yoongi can’t do anything but run away.

lungs begging for air he tries to scarper away from the town, limits already reaching the peak but his body too, begs for him to leave the place at once. he pulls the hood on him for comfort, letting alone the sunlight blind him but the voices screaming to his death.

his cloak keeps him hidden, face bobbed down avoiding every eye that tries to cross over the line. velvety red and edges intricately stitched with a string tied that holds onto him close.

twelve years before and his cape was crafted by the loving soul of his mother. alone on the couch and endlessly sewing clothes while humming a lullaby she used to sang for his only son, going back is a painful nostalgia for the boy.

threads, lace trims and a tomato cushion on the side table, she takes her delicate hands working slowly as days pass by, making sure every edge is sewn and cut into perfection. the color symbolizing his mother’s care, strings of red thick with a unbreakable bond only their blood carries, yet a color opposing the generations of the marks tinted on their hairs.

length going until his knees, he’s protected by the fabrics yet the vibrant colour is distinguished enough from the crowded place of browns and greens.

the predator runs behind him with a glare that he won’t forget. sharp fangs bare and gritted, long thick webs of blue veins running through slender fingertips that are drawn like claws. the smell of chaos lingers, an undesirable madness all on a big heap.

his steps start to falter as voices continue to boom inside his head.

yoongi sneaks behind a group of vendors, warily making his way to a corner of some buildings. the walkway is awfully cramped than the already narrow main paths. with litters of rubbish that are dumped anywhere, boxes are thrown beside the garbage and rats invading the alleys. the stench is twisting his insides yet he carries on nevertheless.

broken paths and uneccessary cemented walls make up a neverending maze, the potholes and missing bricks are a view for the notorious men looking around on the balcony.

his boots clattered on the wet pavement hoping for his own missing soul will be a loss for the devil.

the labyrinth of homes willingly watch the boy who aimlessly runs for his life. they watch him in pity while fingers flick to the very next page, the walls are telling a story but his ears didn’t care. he wanted his escape, now his selfishness became a little prey.

he knows the way out yet all he does is run to danger.

steps halted when a giant wall stands in the middle.

“you really are a foolish cat,” the demon laughs hysterically and his finger snaps with a muffled click on the end, black fogs clearing out the wall. yoongi realizes there never really was a wall, it’s a spell that only fooled him.

“fuck off bitch!” yoongi screams with palms fidgeting.

“daddy never used those words to you darling, might as well give you a punishment for that,”

“you’re not my fucking dad, hell we don’t even look like each other!”

“third warning.” he let out a chuckle before sprinting towards the defenseless male.

yoongi closes his eyes...

his death awaits there, but everything took a twist as fate erases the words imprinted on the paper. ink blots on the rippled page, jotting down his life that finalized a new decision... to let his soul continue on its journey.

his death was stopped by an unknown man.

an unknown man who came up to the scene, a hand glowing in bubbles of wisps, a purple heaven glistening in soft hues of white and blue flitting around.

the darkness in him is lustful and stern, having a dangerous aura yet he smells of the deepest oceans of fear singing calm tunes. cape dyed in black, fabric symbolizing strength and power, all of these made him be feared by anyone.

he’s a poison inside and out, but why a soft peach hair?

“is the monster’s face scary enough to make you cry?” the guy slowly turns to him and gently lifts his chin.


“you have something on your cheek,” the unknown man said in a deep whisper, letting a thumb sweep against his cheek that’s stained with tears.

“that is my prey you milksop,” the demon hisses, displeased to see the face of his enemy ruining the moment.

“h-he’s gonna–”

“don’t worry kid i got this,”

“i guess i’m having two meals today huh.”
a big snap on the neck and he launches himself, not giving a damn whether his meals would taste bland or not. he flies swiftly in the air and swings his sharp claws directly at the unknown man.

“in your dreams fuckass,” his hand reached in the air above the predator’s face, and with a finger pointed to him the unknown man had casted a spell on his mind.

winds blasted with a boom as if a grenade just exploded. with the blink of an eye the demon collapses on the ground, body suddenly became stiff.

“you k-killed him...” yoongi mutters, hiding behind the tall man. he replied barely even a mutter. the male starts to get anxious at the sudden change of atmosphere, as if something isn’t still right.

“ahjussi?” he taps his shoulder. the man slowly turns his gaze to him, eyeing him from head to toe.

the unknown guy walks closer and all of a sudden he grabs the male by the wrist, a smirk so intimidating promptly creeping up from his dark features.

“you’re mine."

at that exact moment yoongi unknowingly disappeared with the gush of the wind.

minseok wakes up to the squeaking of the rats. his body rested flat on the wet concrete, staining his cape and half of his face. his prey and enemy were both gone as if they’re gobbled by the spirits above in a fraction of a second. they’re gone just like that.

“i lost him again goddamnit!”

“once i lay my hands on that filthy skunk there will be no escape for him!”

a groan escapes from his lips as he stands up, stumbling. palms facing down and fingers wretching in anger, fierceful red glows inflame on his hands, drawing two sigils.

a dyad of black cane corso were summoned, both exceedingly ferocious. the creatures were bloodthirsty, the kind of demons to live under the darkest and deepest depths of the undergrounds.

“siria, diablo... you know what to do.”

a chuckle leaving behind, and the canines were off to kill.

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