#v; hear those bells ring deep in the soul ( underworld )

[kyoune]

recurring

fandom: mystic messenger word count: as yoosung would say.... “around 600 2000?” notes: saeran “ray” / mc, persephone & hades reincarnation au, takes place on v’s route, beware of spoilers! 

in your dreams, instead of an elixir, you see pomegranate seeds. 

The newly opened florist attracts a mean crowd.

Ivy vines crawl among the cracks of the tattered brick, framing the building’s GRAND OPENING banner, slung carelessly across the center sign. Though the initial front of the store looks worse for wear, it’s lively - filled to the brim with customers, they swarm among the doors, buzzing

The breeze that tickles you feels familiar, brings back memories of wildflowers and spring days. the fields of Nysa are in full bloom. They’re so pretty this time of the year, hm? A maternal voice hums in your ear, from a figure whose slender fingers (like yours, strangely) glide through your hair.  

You don’t know why or how you can recall that specific place; it’s a place you’ve never been, yet the nostalgia is so strong.

When you open your eyes again, you are in the middle of the streets of Seoul, a bumbling young woman thrown to and fro by the rambunctious afternoon crowd. Ah, right. There’s somewhere you need to be, and your stomach is growling and -

-- there’s an unknown app on your phone.

Why do characters in horror movies act so stupidly? you used to ask. A handful of popcorn in one lazy hand, you’d binge watch the latest productions on your TV screen, shrouded in the dark and shaking your head, cringing at the thoughtless acts of “bravery” the protagonists would perform. How foolish, you had thought.

Little did you know, your own mockery would soon turn sour in your mouth.

It’s incredulous how a few taps and a phone call later, you’d gotten yourself into an unknown car, let yourself be blindfolded and taken away. It was stupid, yes, stupid, you admit, but there was something in that voice you couldn’t let go, a melancholy immune to time.

The car slows to a halt, graceful and soundless. Must be an expensive car, you think, as the nauseating lurch of gravity gently guides you forwards, putting more bubbles of anxiety in your stomach.

When the blindfold comes off, it is not the light that hits you hardest; it’s white hair, and a magenta heart, eyes the shade of a blue so shockingly otherworldly.

You’ve seen those eyes before.

“Ah, there you are.”

Decked in purple and black and greys, from head to toe, Hades, god of the underworld --

“Ray.”

“I don’t know what your tastes are, but I hope you like it.”

You do. It’s pink, and posh and god is it your dream room. Perhaps he simply has the same tastes, or perhaps he’s been stalking you - either way, it perturbs you that you almost don’t mind.

In a way, he feels less like a captor, and moreso a protector. Hell, with all these preparations done and his anxiety apparent, he appears like an admirer.

You wonder if this “Stockholm Syndrome” thing is getting to you, but then lunch comes, and food erases any debate of it from your mind.

(While you lift a forkful of eggs to your lips, a scenario pops out of nowhere: A tall man, robed in darkness strides towards your general direction. When your eyes meet, his face is kind, and lonely, and looks a little too close to someone else you know.)

As night befalls the residence, the screams and cries (of happiness! or so Ray claims...) die down. In their place, footsteps and shaky whispers brush along outside your floor, and the building turns into a haunting likeness of Hell. It’s a bizarre place, and it makes you uneasy, but for some reason, you don’t feel like much of a stranger. In fact, call yourself crazy, but you feel secure.

The underworld is intriguing. Outside is the river of Styx, of inverted nature. Souls and hands of the lost yearn to latch onto you, but Ray promises he will protect you, he swears.

“I shall be no unfitting husband for you…”

When you sit up and rub your eyes, however, he’s nowhere near you at all, and you wonder why your dreams are someone else’s memories.

“How do I pursue you, Ray?” you had joked, your smile reaching up to your eyes, and he’d been speechless, breathless. You are so lovely, so unlike him. Your voice lilts up the air and fills it with an energy he didn’t he was lacking, and perhaps, just perhaps this is what people mean when they say they’ve found their missing half.

Speechless and out of breath, he fumbles against embarrassment, fingers idly thumbing his tie. Dismissing the idea with a casual laugh, Ray flashes you a smile, sincere and twice shy, and tells you that unfortunately, those AIs are the only options.

You shoot him a pout at this, to which his smile widens. Before he figures you can do any more damage to his poor, lonely heart, he leaves, but not without parting words.

“I’m so happy you’re here, Persephone.”

An hour after he has taken his leave, you muse over that statement.

...your name isn’t Persephone.

“If you drink this elixir, you can be with me forever…”

Persephone is smarter, this time. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

But you have no shame, you remember pomegranate seeds and your first exposure to a real “contact”. You recall the beginning of no returns, and of periods where the Earth grew barren in grief over your disappearance.

Now, V’s face is the sad, mourning Earth, stripped of Mother Nature’s gifts. In his urging shouts, and alarmed “Run! It’s dangerous here, go!” you see Helios, the Sun. Go back, he pleads, your mother wishes for your return.

Hurried footsteps of hooded believers clash against the monotone droning of the computers behind you, and the mixture of V and Ray’s screams confuses you. Where do I go? Where can I run?

Caught between the chaos of the present and memories of someone else’s past, you blink, and see pomegranate seeds rolling on the floor, all red, red, red, and it makes you forget about the teal-haired hero and the sound of shattering glass.

“You…..”

As a new chaos unfolds before you, you wonder who you really are.

These are not AIs. You’ve known this from the start, because you are no fool.

How you know it best, however, is when the RFA members yearn for you, attracted like sunflowers to the sun. V and 707, red and blue, drone on and on about “research”, and a peculiar desperation in their searching rings a bell somewhere within.

But you’ve never known these people. Never in your life have you seen these faces, or heard their names (well, Jumin is an exception, probably, but it doesn’t strike much of a memory), and yet they are your family.

Maybe it’s the power of friendship? you tease, fitting in the group with ease. Their replies, as always, are hilarious: Jumin muses about the scientific validity of such a force, all while ordering Jaehee to compose another report. You can practically hear her sigh through the texts, joined by 707 playing along, Yoosung’s shocked stickers, and Zen being Zen.

This everyday banter is what you fall asleep to.

And you can feel it now, your lids heavy with the weight of sleep and stress. As if on cue, a total darkness consumes your vision, and a high-pitched shriek begins to ring in your ears.

( Demeter, your poor mother - her wretched wails can be heard from underneath the surface of the Earth. Like a banshee, she cries and cries, walking the Earth and demanding for you. I want my daughter back, give her back… )

An all-too familiar pop! tears you away from the vision, and you sit up again, gasping. Reflected off your phone screen is a message from V: “..those are the coordinates of my current location.”

You really should stop dozing off...

(Or you’ll get captured by Hades again.)

“Please stay with me… please don’t leave me... “

It’s a curse, you swear; you’ve seen this before. On his knees, Ray begs, pleading with the same desperation you thought you saw from the RFA. Voice cracking and soaked with tears, his fear of abandonment tears deep into your heart, a double-edged blade that cuts both you and him. One side needs you, the other wishes to save you, and the two worlds unknowingly engage in a game of tug-of-war with you.

But all you are is just a girl.

You are Persephone, you are the maiden of spring, and you are leaving.

“I will return to you.”

You lace your fingers into Ray’s, a soothing hand ruffling his hair, and seal your promise with a kiss. Head held high, a blank face betraying any hesitation you might feel, you beckon for 707 to hurry, before the Savior can catch up. Your lips move without you knowing.

“Come along, Hermes.”

707 slows, just for a bit, and shoots you perplexion.

“Who’s Hermes?”

The months fly by, and the calendar dates start to feel off. When did time start to hurry so much?

“Mint Eye’s headquarters have been detonated.” Someone, maybe 707, maybe V tells you, one day. “Rika went to one of our parties.” is told to you on another. You don’t really recall whose voice it was, because you’re lost in fuzzy daydreams of Hades and Persephone, and the possibility that Saeran is still alive.

Then, a phone call arrives one day, and your hands begin to tremble when the name “Saeran Choi” is uttered from the other line.

-

The hospital is a pallid white, too industrial, too formal. You wonder if this is also some alternate form of the underworld, because it makes you uncomfortable, makes you feel sick (ironically). But it has that same feeling, that certain security you’d feel nowhere else…

Or maybe you just feel that way because you see him, Ray, Saeran….

Embalmed in tangled sheets and IV drips, he’s barely even a person; as soon as you dare step in his direction, the nurses sense your intent and rein you in, their voices weary and their grip on your arms a touch too forceful. Substance abuse and mental neglect had shaped him into a violent, unstable man, and they all fear for your safety, but it’s alright, it’s alright, because he was once a god too.

So you raise at them the eyes of a God’s wife, silently imploring for their understanding. They’re the eyes you’ve used in your dreams, and it comes natural to you now. Though you don’t expect them to work, they do, and when Saeran rises, they fully back off.

Your eyes meet blue again, the otherworldly blue you love so, so much, and the maiden of spring intertwines her fingers with the god of the underworld.

“I missed you.”

author’s notes: god playing v’s route i thought of two things: 1) this kind of feels like persephone and hades with regards to ray/mc’s relationship and 2) please tell me ray gets a happy ending (and im heartbroken to learn he doesn’t...) so! this fic is a little kind of self-indulgence, a reincarnated hades/persephone! ray/mc thing with the added bonus of them having a happy ending :)

i havent written fanfic in a year & kind of rushed this + moved around some parts of the timeline so sorry if the events are kind of out of place... 

more saeran fluff is on the way… and i do want to try my hand at zen or vanderwood fluff soon.

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger fanfic #saeran choi #please..... saeran route....... im so sad