↳ mall

　　　↳ ᴇɴᴅ ꜱᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ ᴏɴᴇ. ↰

@✧　Derek Mantaya The angel could already feel the shakiness retreating from his limbs. It was clear in his mind, this wasn’t a hallucination or daydream, Derek was really back, and they were hugging, and Youngmi felt so warm and special. He’d entirely forgotten about the crime scene laying metres away from them - but it was alright, he could be scolded for abandoning the scene later.

“I’m sorry.” The dewy eyed angel’s gaze widened at Derek’s words, he hadn’t wanted to admit to his warring thoughts, but after a long moment he nodded. “But- this is a chance to do better! We can stick together this time, both of us are on our second lives, so we’ll do a really good job at being good, yeah?” He suggested, the flash of a bright grin replacing his pensive frown. He swore if he looked closely, Derek’s cheeks were even a little bit pink - so for good measure, the angel gave one of them a poke.

“…maybe it’ll come back with time? A couple of things were fuzzy after I died, but I never forgot the important stuff. I’m glad you didn’t forget me - I’d be really upset if you did, I promise not to forget you throughout any lifetime we go through.” Now that his heartache was past, what felt like months of dragging his emotions behind him like a boulder now felt like carrying a smooth pebble in his pocket. He paused for a long moment, collecting his thoughts, before a quick gasp left him and his fingers curled into fists in Derek’s shirt. “If you’re not a human, you could join the guard! We could go on patrols together and keep people safe! I couldn’t help you with the assessment, because I don’t really know how I got in with how bad it was, but…” He looked down for a moment, then shook his head. Derek probably wouldn’t like to join the guard - if he hadn’t been fond of them in his first life, who was to say he would be in this one? And if he was working a busy job as a Grim Reaper… the two would be exhausting to juggle. He shook his head a second time to himself. No, no, he wouldn’t push for that, he didn’t want Derek to have to work hard, he wanted him to have a happy, peaceful life.

With a gaze glowing with affection, the angel nodded. “And I would do anything for you,” He murmured back, as though suddenly, they were sharing a wonderful secret, just for them to share. It made his chest bubble like an over spilling boiling pot again. “Hairless cats are really creepy looking. Hairy chickens… I think I’m prettier with feathers,” He decided softly.

“I missed you.” Youngmi reached up to rest a hand on both of Derek’s cheeks, pulling him in to bump the tips of their noses together like the strange little affectionate thing he was, and ducked out of the man’s arms.

Straightening his back and rolling his shoulders with a delighted smile, the look faded when his eyes caught the bloody scene behind them again. “I should be working too. If you ever end up close to the barracks - come visit me! I will make us hot chocolate. If you can drink hot chocolate still?… I will do it regardless. And let’s see each other much more often. Safety in numbers, we can stick together to share our lives together!”

@✠　Lee Youngmi The reaper could hear Youngmi’s breathing slow and could almost feel the angel’s heartbeat calm. He chuckled as he brought his hand to youngmi’s cheeks, his thumb feathering over the remnants of the tears that stained the angel’s features. Tears that he caused. He hated himself for that.

“Stop Youngmi… you don’t even believe that yourself… I know I wasn’t. I was cruel and selfish. The darkness surrounding me left nothing untouched… even you. See? Look at you. Your eyes are all puffy and ugly.” It was a lie. Even with his nose and eyes red, and lips that wouldn’t stop quivering, Youngmi still looked as stunning as ever, the sun couldn’t even compare. Derek didn’t blush, but at this moment, he wasn’t so sure he could say that his cheeks weren’t pink. How could he not when Youngmi was just so… Youngmi?

Derek’s arms tighten around the angel when he felt the other heart do a little jump, afraid that he’d upset or scared the shorter. He shook his head. “It’s all there… but i can’t seem to see it.” He frowned. “I… don’t know… I just know what I’m supposed to do? It’s like a feeling or urge and that I have to do it. To be honest, it seems like I’m the grim reaper or something. So cliché.” Derek hadn’t really taken the time to think about what he was. He was too busy. But the few minutes with Youngmi had him questions everything that was going on for the past couple of months. Why was he here? Why wasn’t he in hell with everything’s he’s done? Or was hell too little of a punishment for him? He couldn’t remember anything else and he didn’t want to. It was scary.

Youngmi’s words brought him back. He laughed a short laugh, one filled with the warmth and light that came as a result of the words from youngmi’s perfectly sculpted lips. “The third can wait for me. I still have everything I want in this one. “ he whispered, eyes still fixated on youngmi’s in awe at just how beautiful the angel was. “Anything for you. Hairless cats are cute. I don’t know about a hairless chicken. I wouldn’t want to be the cause of you looking like a hairless chicken..” he looked at his watch, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Duty calls…. I… if it’s okay with you…. I’d like to see you again..? Mortals are too fragile. But now that I’ve been given another life, I don’t want to waste it not being there for you.”

@✧　Derek Mantaya Youngmi didn’t know how to respond. It was all his fault, he was a murderer, and a monster, he didn’t deserve to be an angel, let alone an archangel, why hadn’t he been dragged home, scolded and sent tumbling to the Earth as one of the fallen yet? And yet, somehow, he could almost forgive himself when Derek’s arms wrapped around him. Keeping him safe, just like how he’d keep the former-human safe. When the man started speaking so softly, so kindly to him, Youngmi was conscious of his breath already beginning to slow, the tears in his eyes furiously rubbed away by his fist before they could stain his cheeks.

Derek was back, and Derek was safe, so he didn’t have anything more to cry about, right? Had they been somewhere less public, Youngmi would’ve already burst into a bundle of feathers and wrapped every single one of his six wings around Derek while they hugged. He’d have probably actually climbed his friend too, for full cuddle potential, but he wanted to spare his reborn friend the pain of a clingy chicken on his shoulder… for now. A breath rattled out of him weakly as he tucked his head under Derek’s chin. “You were a /good person/,” He insisted still, quietly, but forcefully. He knew it wasn’t exactly true. He’d drank lots, killed people, god knows what else he’d done. But Youngmi would never be upset, or even disappointed with his oldest friend. Not when he needed Derek to make his legs feel like jelly when he got teased.

‘/I’m proud of you. No matter what.’/

Youngmi could’ve sworn his heart was going to explode right out his chest. If his wings had been on display, they’d be well and truly ruffled like an upset cat, despite how warm he was feeling. “You really don’t remember anything about what happened?” He inquired, his brow quirking up when he pulled back. “Do you… know what you are now?” If Derek didn’t remember the kiss though, it might save Youngmi a lot of flustered explaining, so he decided it might be a good thing. He just hoped that the former hunter wouldn’t loath him quietly if what he remembered was not acceptable.

Reluctantly, but with a slowly returning strength, Youngmi smiled, shaking his head once again. “Fine, I’ll be your chicken in all of the lifetimes we get and make sure you don’t forget me,” He promised proudly. “… please, don’t go for a third one yet. My wings are patchy from stress, what if all my feathers come out if you die again? Stay alive again, for me?”

@✠　Lee Youngmi The former hunter flinched at the sudden snap of youngmi’s attitude. He had never seen his friend so upset or angry. He was about to go ahead and disappear again until he caught sight of the other’s pained expression and the ludicrous words coming from his plush tiers. He frowned. “Why the hell would I come here to kill you, angel? It’s been so long since I’ve seen you… don’t tell me you don’t miss me as much as I’ve missed you?” Derek got his answer when the archangel practically flung himself at him, his large, toned arms wrapping around the angel possessively, as if wanting to shield the seemingly fragile and broken creature from any other darkness in the world. Youngmi was his light. And he wouldn’t want anything dimming it any further.

“Hey hey hey… shhh.. I’m going going anywhere, yea? You’re squeezing the life out of me, darling. I’m not going to kill you. Why would I? Whatever happened, I probably had to coming for me for a long time.” He whispered softly, his head perched comfortably over the angels head as his hands moved in soothing circles on the other’s back. “After everything I’ve done in that life, nothing could save me, youngmi. I’ve gone too far. The only thing you’ve done was save me from myself. Saved everyone else from me. You did a good job, angel… I’m proud of you. No matter what.”

The hunter pulled back to get a better look his his, his mind still working as if to make sense of the situation. Despite his words, the former hunter was utterly confused. So he really did die and he didn’t just magically obtained supernatural abilities overnight. His eyes shook as another image of Youngmi screaming and crying from above him and then he was back. He mustered a small smile as he looked down at the angel.

“You’ll always be a chicken to me, Youngmi. My chicken. In my past life. This life. And my next one, even if I forget. You’ll be there to remind me, yea? You’re my best and only friend. I don’t want to see you so down. So smile so I can make fun of you.”

@✧　Derek Mantaya The anger faltered in Youngmi’s eyes. He couldn’t be mad at Derek. He was the one who’d killed the former human. The angel was scared though - had he become some form of poltergeist? He’d disappeared and reappeared quickly, as though the angel really was hallucinating, caught up in his own memories of his old friend. /Everyone had died/. Why would Derek be the one to return to him? No, he was hallucinating. This was a figment of his imagination, because he hadn’t been sleeping well.

His breath caught in his throat at the sound of his name passing through the ghostly lips, his eyes widening slightly. It had only been a few months, and yet, hearing his name fall from the strange creature’s mouth made his heart tremble and jitter with emotion that he could not describe. The scene around him felt so much slower, his gaze only able to focus on the wavering and moving form of Derek. He flinched when the voice came close to his ear. He opened his mouth to speak, but it was lost in his throat with a helpless sigh.

If he touched Derek, would the man disappear? He wanted to hold the flickering creature, throw his full weight onto him, so that even if he kept almost disappearing, he couldn’t leave the angel behind again. The anger had faded, leaving a dull sadness in its place. Derek was close to him again. His knees felt ready to buckle, he felt ready to burst into tears and wail apology after apology like the father clutching his fallen son. Derek was so /cold/. His thumbs against Youngmi’s head made the angel shiver. What was he? A vampire? Merely a ghost? What had Youngmi done to bring him back - at the very least, Derek deserved eternal rest, a place of comfort and serenity. He didn’t want his friend to suffer again.

“Don’t say that!” He snapped after Derek spoke, though his harsh tone was instantly regretted and a pained look filled his gaze. “I’m not taking your breath away again. I won’t. I-if you came here to kill me, just do it quickly!” He insisted, his fingers coming to take Derek’s wrist. He didn’t tug it away from his head all at once, rather hesitating, looking up at the taller man with that same mournful look. Would Derek disappear if he hugged him? It was worth a shot, right? Would he come back again if he did disappear? The angel in a breath before he threw himself at the reaper.

His arms slid around the man’s waist, his head diving into Derek’s shirt as he clung to him. If Derek was a poltergeist and about to kill him, at least maybe he’d be allowed to die in his arms. Youngmi had held the former hunter as he’d gone, after all. It had all been the angel’s fault. “I won’t ask for you to forgive me. I know it was all my fault. I didn’t know it was you, I swear. I didn’t want it to be. I’m sorry I couldn’t help. I should have been able to save you.”

Youngmi looked up again, seeming rather confused as to why he still wasn’t dead. He heard he’d been called chicken again, blinking at Derek. He didn’t sound angry. Why wasn’t he angry? Youngmi had killed him - as though to test the theory, he removed a hand to touch the front of Derek’s abdomen. He couldn’t feel any uneven skin that could be a wound. “…I’m, I’m not a chicken,” He mumbled after a moment, though he offered up the best halfhearted smile that he could muster.

@✠　Lee Youngmi "Youn-" Derek's heart broke. The archangel didn't seem happy to see him at all. Why wasn't the angel happy? He opened his mouth to say something, but the words were caught in his throat. The former hunter's eyes glossed over to the necklace around Youngmi's neck as he pressed his lips back together in attempt to find his voice again.

The scene was still as loud and chaotic from how he left it a month ago. The father was still wailing over the loss of his son, whose body was limp and lifeless on the floor. Other than that, Youngmi had done a fine job emptying the scene. His seemingly chilled eyes found their way back to the angel again and took a step towards him.

"Youngmi." With a blink of an eye, the reaper appeared behind his friend, hovering over the other's shoulder. His voice came as an echoing whisper that seemed to cling to the air as he disappeared again and reappeared across the room, a few feet further away. Derek was afraid that if he got too close for too long, the angel would push him away. There was something missing in the depth of his memories. Something he had to do. Something he was supposed to do. Did he get around to doing it?

His brows furrowed as the dulling pain came back. He turned his head,  squeezing his eyes shut, the image of his body flickering in and out of the physical existence of this world.

That's right. Mortem's attack. He couldn't see, but could hear the screams. Maybe Derek did participate after all. Is that why Youngmi was mad at him? His glitching form solidified right in front of the hissing angel, taller body towering over the smaller figure. His apologetic eyes searched Youngmi's for any hopes that his friend would forgive him once more, like he did countless of times in the past. He knew he didn't deserve it, but Derek was selfish like that. He wanted, no, needed Youngmi to keep him grounded. That's why the attack at the games were suppose to be his last time. Did he take advantage of his friend's kindness and take it too far? Derek couldn't remember.

"Youngmi. Don't give me that. " A small chuckle sung from his lips.  "Even when you're mad at me you're still able to take my breath away with that face of yours. Smile, chicken, you'll get wrinkles. " His hand moved to carress Youngmi's temples, the angel's skin warm against his cold thumb.

@✧　Derek Mantaya Youngmi thought that his senses were deceiving him. He would know if Derek was alive - he’d been there to watch him die. He’d been the very person who’d the knife into the man’s abdomen, thinking he was nothing more than a scummy hunter. But Derek wasn’t, he meant so much more to Youngmi. Even if his attempts to lead the man away from the life of being a hunter had failed, Youngmi would never dislike him for it. Derek made him feel a special way that nobody else did. That was why, some kind of unseen force had pushed Youngmi to kiss the hunter as he lay dying. He didn’t even know if Derek had been conscious enough to register it.

The archangel looked as though he’d seen a ghost. Derek didn’t pay attention to him. Why didn’t he? Didn’t he see the angel sitting right in front of him? Maybe he was too angry with his murderer to even bat an eye his way. Nonetheless even Youngmi could tell when it was too late for the son of the gunman. He shook his head to himself and sighed, pulling back slightly. He was supposed to be one of the guard. Protectors of the city. But he couldn’t even save the villains from killing themselves.

His eyes remained locked unwaveringly on Derek’s. He stumbled, trying to get to his feet. If Derek wouldn’t acknowledge him with more than eye contact, he’d make him. He threw himself towards Derek, eyes wide with panic. If there was even the smallest chance that the human was alive-

Youngmi landed against the wall. The crowd was too distressed to look his way. He span around, eyes searching desperately. He’d been there just a second ago. Where had he gone, how could he leave again-? The angel inhaled sharply. It hasn’t been real. It had just been his imagination, he was sure, Derek was gone. He turned towards the crowd, steadily trying to regain some of his former composure. Responsibility. He was part of the law enforcement, he had to act like it.

Clearing his throat, Youngmi drew himself up, clasping his hands together, though they stung faintly from the impact with the wall. “Please, proceed in an orderly fashion towards the exit. I’m sorry you had to witness what you all did today. The appropriate arrangements will be made.” He stopped the father from leaving, though he didn’t seem ready to leave the body of his son regardless. The angel sat up on one of the counters, taking a call to ask for help, and explaining what had happened. He might be in trouble for his failed attempt at helping. But that was alright with Youngmi.

It was as he stood again, instructing the last few people to leave, telling them to delete pictures about the incident in order to give the family some peace. The father would be going to court for a number of charges now, but something in the heaviness of the room made Youngmi know that he was aware of that. As his shoulders slumped, his eyes fell on that familiar face again. His senses were betraying him again. If he reached out to touch Derek, he’d go right through again. “What are you /doing/ here,” He hissed under his breath, though he was distracted by one again trying to disperse the commotion and make the last few people leave.

@✠　Lee Youngmi How long ago was it? When all he could see was darkness. When all he could hear was his own voice and nothing else. Derek had lost the ability to tell time. Whenever he closed and opened his eyes,  it had been an endless loop of darkness. The last thing he remembered after waking up was the faintest memory of Youngmi, scurrying away to hide from his constant teasing throughout the games. After that,  nothing.

Nothing.

He felt nothing. Nothing other than the dull pain in his abdomen.

He was now standing over a man wailing over his son whom he'd accidentally shot. Even amongst the pained cries and panicked commotion around him, he felt nothing. Was he supposed to feel something? Yes. He was. The man had just shot his son. The one he loved.  The one who he was supposed to protect. Derek furrowed his brows, confusion washing over his otherwise emotionless features.

He didn't know how he got here, waiting for the living to die. Waiting to guide them to the afterlife. He just knew that this was what he had to do. It was weird. Recently, he noticed that most of his assignments were fairly similar, he just couldn't pinpoint what it was. But it didn't matter to him. He never questioned any of his assignments before, why would he question them now? He pushed the uneasiness that was overcoming him away. He had a job to do.


"Five... four... three..." the former hunter mumbled under his breath. He could see the life draining from the younger man's eyes. He looked scared. "Two..." Derek's brow twitched as he felt a pain in his head. He was suddenly staring at the sky with a hysterical Youngmi hovering over him. And then he was back. "One." Youngmi. Was he still dreaming? Or was Youngmi staring right back at him. Only when the blonde archangel called out to him, was when Derek knew that it wasn't a dream. It was real.

His eyes glowed. "Time death. 17:30:21. Year 2051. Transport 0007 in progress. " As he spoke, his cold eyes never left Youngmi's. He had so many questions. Why was Youngmi looking at him like that? Where was his smile? Was Youngmi not happy to see him? Did he not miss him?

The screams broke him out of his trance. 0007 just realized he was staring down at his own body, blood still gushing out the side of his neck. They made eye contact. He was about to run.

"0007. Come with me willingly or-" Before Derek could finish, the male started for the door. The reaper reached forward and grabbed the transport by the head and pulled him back. "Or I'll have to use force. "

Derek sighed as the male struggled in his hold, cursing and kicking at him. It was all in vain as the other's limbs glided through him without resistance. He took one last look at Youngmi before disappearing into thin air to finish his job. Trial #0007 would take a period of over 1 month to complete. A month of not being able to see Youngmi. But it was fine. Time ran differently in the afterlife, or whatever people wanted to call it. When Derek had completed the trail, he was right back at the bank.

It was still noisy and chaotic. No one could see him. No one normal,  anyway. The reaper stood in silence as he scanned the crowd for the familiar face that made his heart warm. Would Youngmi still want to see him?

@☠　Derek Mantaya Commotion. At first, Youngmi was tempted not to blink an eye. Everyone thought the guard was corrupt anyway, and he wasn’t on duty. But the angel’s sense of good pulled through, even as the constant dullness in his chest persisted. Youngmi had not felt right recently. The bubbly, excited angel had bared managed to smile. He stayed up refusing to sleep until he quite literally collapsed on his bed and napped. The panic attacks had gotten worse, leaving him weary and lonely feeling all of the time. Little things turned to having large consequences when it came to his mental health. But the angel insisted to himself that he was fine. He was still working, he was still being a productive little speck of dust in the universe.

His fingers drifted down to the blades at his sides. He didn’t go anywhere unarmed anymore. It was surprising to him, somehow. He’d ended his best friend’s life being armed and acting recklessly, and yet he now walked around with weapons close at all times. From the weapons, his hand came to his throat, where the repaired necklace caught the light. He’d had to get it repaired. For Youngmi, the charm was a precious reminder of a blissful time. Reina and Derek and Bea - everyone had still been alive. Now the angel felt quite lonely - but they were still there, in spirit. Maybe one day he’d see them all again, in another life.

The angel was quick to march in the direction of the bank - though less used with so being being online, such important places were always your typical chance to start trouble. “That’s enough, as a member of the city’s guard I will ask you to stand down and not resist arrest.” They were armed, the ages they were and the similarities in them made them seem like father and son. The angel’s intervention for a few precious seconds went ignored as he drew both of his fingertips glowed with a warm light - and then they realised, there he was, someone who wasn’t on duty but had enough numbness inside them gathered up to not mind walking headfirst into the situation. A loud clap echoed in Youngmi’s ears, amplified by the surface the bullet thwacked off and came back. They had terrible aim.

Confusion was thick in the air, as Youngmi looked dazedly at the attempted robbers. There was blood - the angel had been expecting the bullet to be for him, but it was not. The younger, the son, probably in his mid twenties was on the ground, clutching his throat. Youngmi could heal people. Arrest would wait. While unfazed by the blood, crouching beside someone bleeding out made the angel tremble. His fingers shook as he tugged down the man’s collar to study the wound. It was moving too quickly, everything was moving too quickly. He turned towards the former victims of the crime, to shout at them to get someone to help while he did what he could. But Youngmi paused, dead in his tracks.

No, no, no, no. It wasn’t. It couldn’t be. He was hallucinating, Derek was dead. Derek was dead and Youngmi had killed him with his own hands. The angel paled as he stared straight ahead at the figure in front of him, lips locked shut as he struggled to force something, anything out. “..Derek?”