The Temptation of Park Jimin | p.j.m / vmin

fifteen

[trigger warnings]
this chapter contains the following: mutilation, mental abuse (Namjoon makes Jimin watch something traumatic), amputation, mentions of sex, traumatization of  characters
If you find any of the following to be upsetting, read at your own risk/don't read at all, your mental health is more important

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—JIMIN FELT ANXIOUS.

He didn't know what to expect when Namjoon asked him to follow him one evening after prayer, but he didn't think any good was going to come of it. After what had happened the last time Namjoon had dragged him off on his own...Jimin wasn't so sure he liked Namjoon anymore.

But he followed the Arch regardless, to a part of the heavens he'd never seen before, to avoid any further injury.

"Where are you taking me?" he asked, cautiously.

"I have something I want to show you,"

He led him to an edge — an edge of the heavens Jimin didn't know existed, filled with navy blues, royal purples, and gentle hues of grey that swirled off into the horizon. It reminded Jimin of the void, just as quiet, and just as beautiful. Specks of white and gold flickered like stars amongst the clouds, bordered by marble arches that stretched as far as the eye could see.

"What is this place?" Jimin whispered.

"The Hall of Fates," Namjoon explained.

Jimin's eyes widened in awe. He'd heard stories about the Hall of Fates from the other angels, but none had been lucky enough to see it in person. Jimin peered up at Namjoon with thoughtful eyes. Maybe he'd been too quick to judge in his answers. Perhaps he thought he was ready now — to learn — and this was his way of showing him that. How many could say that an Arch had shown them the Hall of Fates?

This was the first step in his journey.

Namjoon turned his attention to him, with his usual, stoic expression. His eyes were narrowed, and his mouth turned downward into somewhat of a frown. Namjoon never looked pleased or content, only serious, but Jimin had been lucky enough in his early years to have had him smile softly at him once or twice when he did something to his standards. Jimin wondered if he'd smile at him today.

"I want to apologize for hitting you," he said, uncrossing his arms — perhaps a little too fast for Jimin's liking. He swallowed the lump in his throat when he raised his hand. "That was rude of me,"

He cupped his face, the pad of his thumb running gently across his cheek, over the bruise that had finally begun to fade; he sighed when Jimin winced, and dropped his hand. "-but the wicked deserve to be punished, and you're not an exception to the rule,"