#jest of the dark angel part 4

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

||Jest of the Dark Angel Part 4||Noir au

Hello dears, this is a request from a anon that wishes for a chapter added to this small short series jest of the dark angel. So I'm going to add a part 4 to this. This drabble series along with the Noir au belongs to my friend @demon-blood-youths so if you wish to read the other parts, you can check it out from the links below. :3

((Chapters))

Jest of the dark angle part one

jest of the dark angle part two

jest of the dark angel part three

((Your reading part four right now))

||Warning for Drabble||

~Will have mentions of flashback in this drabble

~Dark themed is will be spoken and seen in this drabble

~Alcohol is present in this drabble

~Slight NSFW is present in this drabble

||Drabble Summary||

Ryunosuke has failed once more in taking out his target though after that, he has been given a break. He denies he needed it but Mori ordered him to. So, he's been resting up on his day off from killing but his mind is now riddled with that man's face. Meanwhile, Mori got some request to speak to Matt and his group about something. Now what could it be? Read to find out.

((Guests in this drabble))

Matt Knack along with his fraction the Lovely Horrors belong to my friend @lovelyxhorrors ((a side blog that is run and owned by @demon-blood-youths ))

Ryunosuke Akutagawa is from the anime series BSD (Bakugo stray dogs) a canon muse that I rp as.

((Note: Their will be grammar mistakes and errors in this drabble. It was written for fun so please understand. Thanks for that and hope you like.))

Mori was looking ahead from his head office, seeing that he had some guests visiting him today. Even with things going on in the city, it seems things were still going under some investigation. Of course, their was recent reports of hearing about clubs still being heavily guarded now after the first few being shot by someone. No one knows who but it was unsure to see who.

So, he decided to invite some people to speak with him. Which results into today. Someone pours some red wine for the two even if Matt declines it with Sid doing the same but Mori was not as evil but lets it go.

"So...your the one that called us? This is new. Was it due to my father? Or does he owe you? Money? Stole something from you?" Matt was quiet while sitting on a chair even if he was not used to these important meetings even when it deals with his father. Mori chuckled to hear this but held a hand up. He had some wine himself to swirl it in the wine glass.

"No no, your father is not involved with anything against me. To say, I'm the one that wishes to speak to you and your...team." He saw Matt's eye brow raised. "I've heard many stories about you and what you all do. Each one having a good reason to do what you do. So, you already know about my organization the Port Mafia correct."

"....Yes, we heard about it." Sid, the white haired woman speaks, pushing up her glasses while sitting by Matt who was looking at Mori. The others were in the same room as well but Mori also remains silent to still keep a smile on his face.

"Well, that's good to know because..I asked you to come here...to speak about working together with Port mafia."

This made Matt and Sid blink hearing this but was confused. Hold on; work together.

"Yes; shocking I know. I figure you been hearing things about my organization and what you might be hearing from other families to think we are the reason of some things happening. But rest assure, the port mafia is not involved with any of the recent shootings happening in clubs. We are trying to figure that out ourselves. But..we need to seek other sources of help to do that. Which explains right now." he said looking to them.

"....Do you have any information that will tell us more?" Matt asked as Mori smiled snapping his fingers. A young man came over but he was wearing a white button-up shirt under a dark red vest, a black choker, a black ribbon bolo tie held together with a small silver buckle, an open black cropped jacket with the sleeves rolled up at the elbows, black slacks, a black belt hanging off his right hip and black low-arch shoes. He is almost always seen wearing black gloves. The two also spots that he wears around his shoulders like a cape. The undercoat is a light shade of red.

He walks over but he sets some folders over to Sid who blinks taking it from his hand to look at it while moving back to stand by his boss. As Sid opens the folder, she begins to read while looking at the information that was seen or read. The information about what was happening is there.

"As you can see. True, the head club owners have been trying to figure out who was attacking their clubs and workers, so far, we found out three families were trying to cause a war. Lucky for them, I had a few from my organization stop the shooting. We even got some witnesses that seen what is going on and on the female workers and male workers that is being kept watch." he said with eyes closed with Sid reading this but the other members were waiting for Matt to come back from this meeting.

"...I see. You have a lot of information here speaking about it." she said.

"We know how to get our information miss Sid. Rest assure, we have ways to do what we need to. After all, we are trying to keep things in peace in the city.." Mori said.

"Hmmmm......"

"So you know many of the clubs that's on stand by, guarded, abandoned, lost, etc?" Matt asked looking to Mori who smiled.

"Of course. Gin?" that's when another young woman walks over but Jason saw her.

The young woman named Gin has dark gray eyes and long black hair. As a mafioso, she keeps her hair in a spiked bun, leaving sections of shoulder-length hair down. Most of it falls to the right side of her face, whilst a strand falls over the middle. Jason saw she wears a gray, short-sleeved v-neck, black trousers, and black heels.

Over her shirt, she wears a long, flared black coat is seen dressed in an outfit comprising of a long black cloak with a hood and frayed trim. The right sleeve, tightened by a black band on her bicep, is long with an extended part with frayed trim, and the left sleeve appears torn off, exposing her arm. She wears reddish-grey gloves that extend a tad beyond her elbows. The right glove being complete whilst the left glove is fingerless.

In addition, she also wears a black choker with a white cross on it, and a white mask that covers her nose and mouth. She walks over to Sid to show another list but it was color coded. To be honest, Jason could tell she was way different than any other woman but he said nothing keeping quiet.

"Here." She said in a tone as Sid takes it and looks at the list. They had the full list of clubs in the city. Every single one was colored but it shows Mori speaks the truth.

"Well Sid?" Matt asked.

"He's right. The list here tells of all the clubs. Seems a few are in the green but others are either in the red because of the recent events going on." she said.

"Even the kidnappings?" Matt said.

"Oh yes, we know about them too. In fact, we got others trying to find more that was taken from their locations but we know with our best men at work." Mori smiled to the two.

"I see...but what is this deal your speaking about?"

"....I would ask if you would like to work together? I know your cleaning up everything for your father and to what he's done. His history is pretty well known in the town...and his so called dark debt. I'm not trying to be enemies here but I only wish to help the city and keep it safe from the threats that linger about." He opens his eyes to look at them.

"If you wish to think about it you may..I'm not usually this offering to just anyone you know...if you wish.." he said.

"....Hold on, how come your offering this to us? I mean, aren't you the ones that started this whole thing?" Matt said confused but Mori thinks to sigh.

"It's not us because my own organization and members are is being attacked as well by rival gangs. You may think we started this or tried to but rest assure, we are not the enemies here. Others might say we are but we aren't." Mori said then stood up. "I have my best men and followers doing their jobs to find out what they do in the city......even if we had others thinking your group were the ones that started it...seems not."

"........."

"So again, I would be happy if your organization works with mine. We can provide a lot of things for you if needed. Information, items, any useful things if your looking for someone. My team will help in any way possible." he said as Matt thinks about it but he was not expecting this only to sigh. He thought his father started something but it seems he didn't. However, he was still unsure about it.

"......Is something wrong?" Mori asked to see Matt open his eyes to look at him.

"I may need time to think about it. Even if you say all this, it's a lot to think about. If you were going to help....give us time to think about it if that's alright?" he said.

"I understand....you take all the time you need......but we will still offer help if you need it. Please come back if you need anything." Smiling, he saw Matt, Sid, and Jason stand up to leave the office to leave. He sees them leave but he was wondering what he'll say the next time.

"Sir? Do you think he believes us?" Gin asked.

"That's up to him.....besides, I'm sure even Ryu is thinking this is crazy but...seems we might have been wrong about this Matt person.." he said while smiling.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Matt, do you think he speaks the truth? What do we do?" Sid asked following him outside to the night as Matt was thinking about it.

"I don't know..I guess we will see in the future. For now, I'll need time to think about it." he said walking off with the two back to their base for now. However, his mind was wondering of Ryunosuke. He hopes he was alright..where ever he was.

"Hey, does this mean if we need to.....are we going to accept his help?" Jason was asking this following the two back to their place. Even if Sid said nothing, she was wondering the same thing looking to Matt. They keep on walking but he was thinking about it.

"I don't know......like I said, I need time to think about it. Though, hearing all that, seems they were not involved with anything that old man of mine has done. So for now, I'll think about it." he keeps walking with hands in his pockets with the other two following him back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

As for Ryu, he was in his bed chambers but he was panting laying on his back while shaking. He just came in his hand after fingering himself. He couldn't believe this!!!

He just took a shower and here he was pleasuring himself trying to calm down from the heated thoughts of that young man. Matt. Damn it, he still tempts and tortures him in his wet dreams even if it makes him heated. He couldn't help it.

Ryunosuke slowly moves his arm from behind showing his fingers that was wet from trying to calm down. He felt so hot right now, almost growing restless without him. He only looks to the pillow panting softly that he grips the pillow. How can he do his mission if his mind won't let him?

'M..Matt...what have you done to me......I can't complete this mission if your haunting my dreams. Even from that, I can't..I can't.....no matter what I try, my head won't let me..' he closed his eyes while he was coated in some sweat. Even knowing his body was aroused right now, he tried to calm down while moaning softly in his room. Stroking himself while his fingers push back into him trying to feel good.

"Mfffmmm......" he had to bite down on the sheets but was shaking. 'Matt...Matt...Matt...f..fuck.....' it wasn't the same but it will have to do. Even through this night, the assassin was slowly losing himself.

But how long will he be able to stay focused? Or will he snap for him?

[lit-works]

4. Dark secrets

"Ah, that was some fun, senseless violence; Just like the 90's, eh, buddy?" DeadPool laughed as he wiped the blood from his Katanas. "Ya know, it kinda reminds me of that one time you and I were--"

"DeadPool--"Cable began as he interrupt DeadPool.

"Right, right, time to get serious. You know me, the job always comes first. Well, probably more like second...no later than third--"

"Wade!"

"what?! What do you need me to do, Nathan. Give Professor X's Wheelchair flat tires? Steal Scott Summer's visor while he's in the shower? Fill Beast's shampoo bottle with Hydrogen Peroxide?"

"I need you to track down the four Death Seeds." Cable answered.

"That sounds significantly less hilarious than any of the ideas the author of this thing gave me." DeadPool groaned.

"You're right, there's nothing funny about them. They're ancient artifacts that contain the essence of Apocalypse. In order to prevent his arrival in this timeline, I need you to retrieve them."

"Then you came to the right guy! I'm an expert and preventing disasters, when I'm not the one causing them --quick question, buddy : You wouldn't happen to know where I could find one of those Death Seeds, do ya?"

Cable just glared at DeadPool with a puzzled countenance.

"No, 'Course not. That's why you hired me. Luckily, being a highly-paid mercenary like me means you know people who know things. Bad, bad things--and kicking the crap out of them for information is the best part of my work day!" DeadPool jested. "Man, I hope he signed that contract already!"

-

"Ya see, before the Multiverse existed, The Celestials created these things called 'Exterminators' to balance their creations with life and death. However, the Exterminators turned on the Celestials, which forced the Celestials to lock them up. Following their failure, The Celestials created the Death Seeds to serve the same purpose as the Exterminators but were much more manageable. These Death Seeds were then given by Celestial Gardeners to select individual servants to shepherd a planet's evolution and the superior species that live there." HYDRA Bob began to explain to DeadPool as he lit a cigarette and leaned against a partially ruined building, his compatriots' invasion of New York raged behind him and his friend. "The mutant Apocalypse was one of those who volunteered to be an instrument of the Celestials to ensure the natural evolution of superior species'."

"No shit. But, Apocalypse has been MIA for a while, and I was told to collect 4 of these things, so how does that work?" DeadPool asked.

"In general, while there only ever seems to be one planetary caretaker per planet at a time, Death Seeds are numerous and can be planted in others. However, Death Seeds will only ascend and bloom in the recipient as the next Apocalypse if the current one dies, which HYDRA scientists believe suggests the spares are of much lesser quality. Additionally, if the current Apocalypse dies and there is no spare, the power automatically transfers to another. I'm surprised you don't actually know more about these things given your involvement with X-Force."

"Well, I've never officially been allowed to be in the Big Boys' Club, despite them needing and using me for when they gotta do suicidal wetwork missions. Plus, I take a lot of blows to the head which has caused a lot of memory loss."

"Well, Apocalypse once used a Death seed to transform Angel into Archangel."

"Haha, ya'know, I thought that was just that rich dude's emo phase. He even started listening to a lot of The Cure."

"Well, even tho the Death Seed does grant great power it is also known to corrupt one's mind to the point where death becomes beautiful and makes way for something new to come and wouldn't have a single bit of remorse for the genocidal slaying of say millions or billions of people to again their goal. The infection of the Death Seed compels with the singular duty to ensure the rising of a superior species, such as you mutants, that could only be achieved by the extermination of an inferior race, such as humans, and failure to do so meant the Celestials would eventually arrive and eradicate the entire population of this failed 'Earth' experiment."

"That's pretty fucking heavy, Bob. If your company is after these things as well, they must have some idea to look. Could you help a brother out?"

"To be honest, HYDRA never really has all that much intel. But, I hear Paris is nice this time of the year, and ya didn't hear it from me."

-

"Well, that was too easy, I never get to barely even torture that guy and he tells me everything. But, at least now I've got my first solid lead on a Death Seed. I'm off to Paris, the city that never sleeps! The land of the rising sun!! But first I should probably stock up on some weapons, ammunition, and turkey subs. And by 'stock up' I mean steal them from my unwitting enemies and teenage Subway store clerks."

[softyoongiionly]

Will You Make a Mess Now?

Jungkook’s never been touched before and, after a hectic end to his semester, he thinks he wants that to change...

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Virgin! Jungkook, established relationship au, college au, smut, fluff.

Word Count: 4.7k

A/N: HELLO YES I MISSED YOU. Guys, I swear i’m working on updating my series (plural) but, I’ve been out of writing for a while and, I needed something to get me back in the groove. What better way than to continue to affirm that my love for Jungkook is unavoidable and, unstoppable. i love youuuuu. This is unedited for now, please forgive any mistakes, I was too excited. 

Warnings: smut, language, 18+ only please.

After 4 grueling months of relentless studying and lectures, you can finally say that your second to last semester of university is finally over.

Finals week is still at the entrance of your subconscious as its literally all you’ve been able to think about for quite some time. You haven’t been able to unwind or see your friends and, if you’re being honest, you don’t remember the last time you actually slept for more than four hours at a time.

The good news is…

All of that is now behind you.

The exams have been taken, the textbooks have been returned or re-sold, the mountain of instant meals have been cleared from your kitchen (for now) and, you are currently on the subway headed to celebrate with the only person in the world that could properly bring you out of your post-exam haze:

Your boyfriend, Jungkook.

Jungkook is a kinesiology major, whom you met in one of your labs nearly two years ago. The two of you were friends for a long time before you finally got up the courage to kiss him at a party 5 months ago. And by courage, you mean you had a little too much to drink and, Jungkook looked way too good in his university crew neck so, you awkwardly leaned in to kiss him and he, being the absolute angel he is, pecked you on the lips before explaining to you that he wouldn’t kiss you properly until you were sober.

The next day, you woke up in his bed, alone. Your first response was to panic but, upon slowly sitting up in his sheets, you find Jungkook curled up on the floor amongst a pile of blankets. After a few slightly uncomfortable conversations, the two of you arranged a date and, started…you know…falling in love

Or whatever…

Fun fact: Given the fact that you’ve only been with Jungkook for a few months, the two of you have yet to be intimate. Jungkook stated early on that he wanted to take things slowly and, of course you were more than ok with that.

He’s been more and more comfortable with heavier petting so to speak as of lately but, the farthest you’ve ever gone was having his hand down your panties, and your hand over the seam of his jeans. And you’re fine with the progression of your sex life with Jungkook but, he’s only ever made you cum before and, every time you try and return the favor he politely declines.

“It’s ok, I just wanted you to finish jagi…”

“I’m ok, don’t worry, it will go down soon. Do you feel good though? Did I do it right?”

“Soon baby, I promise, it’s just not the right time yet.”

Once again, you’d never push him into something he didn’t want to do but, you were slightly confused as to why he never wanted you to reciprocate. 

Jungkook is quite frankly the best boyfriend in the entire world. He’s all of the cheesy stuff and, more. Things have been progressing slowly but, you didn’t mind. Whatever you have with him, it feels real.

And to be completely honest, you miss him so much that it’s starting to really get to you.

20 minutes later and, you’re in front his place and sending a quick text to let him know you’ve arrived.

You: I’m outside

You: please save me, it’s freezing  :’’’(

Not even a full minute goes by before you hear the fumbling of the lock and, you quickly prepare yourself to latch onto your boyfriend like a freaking spidermonkey.

It’s been almost a month since you’ve seen him face to face so, you can imagine your confusion (and disappointment) when you’re met with the face of his older brother instead.

“Hey,” Namjoon’s dimpled smile is a sight for sore eyes but, it does nothing to wane your confusion, “Kook is passed out upstairs but, he told me earlier to be on the lookout for you in case he fell asleep, which he did.”

A smile is passed to Namjoon as he holds the door open for you, “Of course he did, thanks Joon, is it just you guys right now?”

Jungkook has six brothers and, they all live under the same roof, so the rent is split in seven equal parts.

It’s the only way for them to afford a house off campus.

“Nah Jin and Tae are upstairs too, everyone else is out.” He murmurs and, its then you notice the dark circles decorating the space beneath his eyes.

“Gotcha, are you excited to be done with finals? I feel like I could sleep for 15 years…” You jest, nudging him gently, knowing full well that Namjoon was feeling the same sense of exhaustion you were.

He chuckles and nods immediately, walking with you to the bottom of the stairs, eyes flitting eagerly towards his bedroom.

“That is literally my plan for the rest of the day. I have an adjustment on my project and, after I get that submitted, I’m falling asleep and not talking to anyone for at least 24 hours.” He declares, the seriousness in his tone causing you to giggle.

“I’ll make sure to thwart any of the guys that try to fuck with your beauty sleep…” You vow, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re one of the good ones Y/N…” He laughs, jerking his chin towards Jungkook’s door, “he’s missed you a lot.”

Namjoon’s response is unexpected and it warms you from the inside out.

“Yeah? Did he say something to you?”

You feel like you’re in middle school again, attempting to figure out if your crush likes you.

“He was whining about it the other day, he’s really into you.” Namjoon smirks, before sending a pointed look your way, “don’t tell him I told you that though, he’d kill me.”

The smile on your face probably looks a little ridiculous but, you don’t care, you’re only concern is getting up these stairs and into your boyfriend’s bed.

“I wouldn’t want to expose you for breaking the bro-code.” You return his smirk, passing him to ascend the staircase, “Get some rest, thank you for letting me in.”

“You got it. Have a good night.” Namjoon disappears behind his bedroom door rather quickly, eager to pass out and, you suddenly feel your heartrate increase as you grow closer to Jungkook’s room.

You really did miss him and, the urge to jump into his arms is stronger than you’d like to admit.

Especially given that you know he’s asleep and, you’d have to wait for him to wake up. And you would, cause you know, he deserves to sleep as long as he wants.

You’re not certain that you won’t fall asleep with him.

The door to his room is opened carefully and quietly and, shut just the same.

His bedroom is almost too dark due to the blackout curtains that hung over his windows; a birthday present from his brother Yoongi, they are his new favorite thing.

Jungkook must have shut them in a haste however because, there is a tiny sliver of light shining through which thankfully provides you with a clear path way to his bed.

Soft snores emit from the pillow closest to the windows and, all you can see is Jungkook’s mop of black hair peeking out from underneath his covers. The hum of his noise machine is a comforting sound and, paired with the woodsy vapors coming from his diffuser (a gift from Namjoon), you could feel the sleepiness beginning to tug at your body.

With your overnight bag placed on Jungkook’s gaming chair, you make your way to his bed and slowly peel the covers back.

Oh-

Despite the fact that it’s freezing outside, your boyfriend has unfortunately decided to sleep shirtless, his toned body clad only in his favorite grey sweatpants and, a pair of black socks.

He looks like a god but, you know, that’s totally fine and, not at all distracting.

His brows are furrowed in deep sleep, his cherry lips formed into a slight pout, snores still rumbling deep within his chest. One of his arms is bent at the elbow and, tucked firmly underneath his pillow, his other arm stretched out across the expanse of his bed.

Which of course, poses an issue for you since you don’t want to disturb his sleep but, you want nothing more than to snuggle up to him.

(forever)

Jungkook is a pretty heavy sleeper so, the likelihood of waking him is pretty slim and even if you do, you can at least take comfort in the fact that he’s expecting you.

So you slowly lift his arm, quickly tucking yourself into the warmth of his bed and, move the covers back to their original position. It isn’t super comfortable but, you’re afraid to move anymore in fear of waking him up.

Your hands absentmindedly trail over his forearms, admiring the warm, caramel undertones in his skin and, the veins which protrude gently underneath the surface.

His hand is still covered in the temporary tattoos he got nearly two months ago.

Being the Virgo that he is, Jungkook wanted to insure he liked the chosen designs before deciding to get the real thing. You certainly aren’t complaining but, you are secretly hoping he decides to keep them.

Jungkook and tattoos: a lethal combination.

You lay like this for awhile, admiring your boyfriend, listening to the various white noises echoing off the walls, enjoying the scent of his freshly washed sheets.

He washes his bedding once a week.

Sure enough, you feel your lids grow heavier and heavier, the temptation of sleep growing ever so slightly at the back of your mind.

However, Jungkook’s hand twitches at your side and, you feel movement beside you, causing your head to tilt in his direction.

You’re met with a sleepy smile and, a gaze so endearing, you might just die right then and there.

“You’re here…” He murmurs, voice raspy and decorated with sleep.

It doesn’t take you long to get closer to him, his free arm not leaving your body in order to hug you against his bare chest.

“I’m here…” You answer, a smile in your voice, pursing your lips to place kisses on  his skin.

Jungkook smiles properly now but, you don’t see it, your face tucked firmly into his neck.

He’s so happy you’re here.

His arm moves out from underneath his pillow to envelope you completely, shy lips pressing a few kisses to the top of your head as he shifts onto his back, taking you with him.

“Missed you..” He mumbles almost, coy and unsure but, genuine.

As he usually is.

A smile erupts on your mouth now, as you look up to face him and, for whatever reason you’re overcome with the need to feel his lips against yours. So you do just that and, secure your mouth to his, letting a deep breath out through your nose. His quick too, big hands sliding down your back to hold onto your hips.

“Missed you more” You whisper against his lips, a little breathless from the depth of the kiss you’ve just shared.

His nose wrinkles in disgust as he shakes his head, leaning in to kiss you again, “No…me…”

The childish nature of his response makes you giggle, accepting another kiss eagerly.

“If you missed me so much, why did you make Namjoon let me in hm?” You tease, still kissing at his mouth, one of your hands sliding over his ribcage.

He nibbles at your lip in retaliation, a slight smirk on his mouth, “Cause I was tired and, you were taking forever…”

Jungkook chuckles at his own whining and, you follow suit whilst shaking your head in disbelief.

“You’re only further proving my point, I rode the silver line to get here, just because it was faster and, I walked through the cold just so I could see your stupid face…”

By stupid, you mean beautiful but like, he doesn’t need to know that.

Jungkook laughs harder this time, its higher pitched and more genuine, his hands that are on your hips squeeze in retaliation.

“My face isn’t stupid….you’re stupid…” He chuckles, teasing you because, its one of his many ways of coping with how he feels for you.

Before you can respond, he kisses you again, your comeback dying in the back of your throat as your hand comes up to rest against his cheek.

The two of you can’t stop smiling and, giggling as you indulge one another, ignoring the clumsy way your lips connect.

“You look so beautiful like this…comfy…” He adds, his tone taking on a shyer tone as he nudges your nose, eyes half open, “I really did miss you jagiya…”

His words send emotion careening into your chest and, you can’t help the way your lips respond more eagerly against his.

“You make comfy look like a Calvin Klein campaign…” You retort before adding, “I missed you too. You’re staying home this winter too right?”

It’s a rarity for both of you stay on campus during winter break but, this year your families had decided to come to you.

He nods, eyes still soft as he tucks your hair behind your ear, lips pouted that you stopped kissing him for a moment, “Mhm…we’ll be here together…”

Jungkook has his moods like most people do but, there is a certain way he gets that you swear he reserves only for you. Being the youngest of seven boys, he’s used to being the source of a lot of banter and, teasing so, being with you is no exception but, recently he’s been getting softer and softer.

Sweeter and sweeter…

And you’re not complaining…

“We will.” You affirm, pecking his lips again, “we can go on all those dates we’ve been promising eachother.”

He nods, pulling the duvet up higher over the two of you, “Yeah, I have a lot of ideas but, I want to hear your ideas too…but I’m excited for mine…”

Another giggle leaves your lips at his almost jovial tone, his competiveness sneaking through a bit.

“I’m happy I get to spend the night with you more, you keep me warm.” You hum, delighting in the fact that Jungkook blushes at your statement.

“I keep you warm?” He checks, securing his teeth to his bottom lip, nibbling on it nervously.

With a nod of your head, you snuggle into his body, taking in the scent that was uniquely Jungkook: woodsy and clean, free of any harshness.

“So warm.” You whisper against his neck, pressing a gentle kiss there.

Though, as gentle as the kiss was, it doesn’t stop Jungkook from immediately plumping up from within the confines of his sweatpants. His neck is his weak spot.

You don’t feel him yet but, you do notice a reaction from him: his head tilts back ever so slightly, feet rubbing together at the end of the bed. The teasing words stay trapped in your throat as you decide to push your luck and, kiss him there again, letting your lips linger longer than before.

He doesn’t stop you when you place a third kiss into the sweet spot on his neck, or a fourth or a fifth but, soon enough he feels his dick filling out the empty space in his sweat pants, the sensation of your lips beginning to get to him.

“Jagiya?” He croons into the darkness of the room whilst his heart beats wildly in his chest, his hands sort of fidgeting against your hips.

“Hm?” You hum, kissing up his neck towards his lips, “Are you ok?”

He isn’t, he’s hard and, there is four months of stress sitting on his shoulders that he is certain your lips will melt away but, he’s so nervous.

“Uh…I’m…” He stutters for the right words but, you already know what he’s trying to say because, you can feel him now, pressing into your hip.

“Do you want me to stop?” You place a gentle kiss to his stuttering mouth, wanting to check with him before you continue.

“No…yes, shit I-“ He looks torn, glancing down towards his dick before looking back at you, “I don’t know jagi, I’m sorry…”

Immediately, you shake your head, pulling back to look at him, “Hey…hey it’s ok, you have nothing to be sorry for ok? We don’t have to do anything until you’re ready. I should have asked you if it was ok to kiss you there…”

He shakes his head now, pulling you closer, “You didn’t do anything wrong, I want you to kiss me and…touch me, I just wish I wasn’t so…” He sighs, biting his lip, dark eyes flitting nervously around, “I’ve just never…let anyone make me cum before…”

You have to admit, this shocks you.

Jungkook was obviously a campus heartthrob, literally everyone had a crush on him, even the Dean and, while you didn’t think that made him into some kind of Casanova, you had been certain that he had some sexual experience before meeting you.

But clearly, you were wrong.

Reaching out to touch his cheek, you pull his gaze back to yours, “There’s nothing wrong with that babe. We all do things at our own pace. The two of us have all the time in the world, you can wait as long as you need to…”

His fingers curl slightly against your hips, shifting you until your sitting in his lap, causing you to ignore the way his length feels pressing into your core. A deep breath is needed but, it doesn’t last long because, Jungkook speaks again, surprising you.

“Noona I-“ He kisses you again, trying to focus on anything other than his throbbing dick, “I don’t want to wait anymore though…I’m just really nervous.”

It hits you like a ton of bricks but, you remain focused, allowing him to take all of the time he needs.

“That’s ok, it’s ok to be nervous.” You assure him gently, kissing between his eyes, “Can I ask what you’re nervous about?”

“I just don’t know what it’s going to be like and, I don’t know…my hyungs say it feels amazing but, I don’t want to do the wrong thing or what if you use your mouth and, it tastes bad or something, fuck I sound really dumb, I swear…I’m ….”

You cut him off with a gentle kiss to his forehead, smiling fondly into his skin as your hands come up to rub tenderly at his back.

“Slow down for me baby.” You whisper and, the words along with your touch are enough to calm him slightly, “you say you don’t want to wait right? So, what would you be comfortable with us doing right now? It doesn’t have to be all at once, we can take things slow.”

His fingers explore the skin on your hips, as he wears a nervous but eager expression, “I don’t want our first time to be…here or like…after all of this.  I don’t think I’m ready for the way you’ll make me feel, I can barely hang on when you’re sitting on me like this but, I…”

His eyes flit down to your center for a moment, as if the thought of being inside of you overwhelms him. He looks back up at you, lips swollen from all of the kiss, his timid expression tainted with lust.

“I wanna feel what it’s like to have someone touch me…I want you to touch me really bad.”

The world could be ending beyond Jungkook’s blackout curtains and, it still wouldn’t be enough to stop you from honoring his request.

Your finger tilts his chin towards your lips, “I want to touch you too. Can I touch you right now?”

He nods immediately, swallowing around a dry throat and an unsteady heartbeat. To soothe himself, he kisses you again before, nudging your nose playfully, trying to ease the tension he feels.

“Ok, I’m going to get behind you alright?”

Your response confuses him and, you can tell but, you know he’ll catch on soon enough. He leans forward, allowing you sit directly behind him, your legs on either side of his silhouette, your body encircling him with your warmth.

“Lean back against me…” You whisper in his ear, causing him to shiver as he obliges, his bare back now flush against your chest. “Comfy?’

He chuckles, his cheeks on fire at the position you’re both in but, he nods none the less, his hands moving to the outsides of his thighs and, then to tops of your knees, rubbing the skin there.

“Now, I want you to show me how you touch yourself ok? So I can see what you like and, then, whenever you’re ready, I’ll touch you.” You explain gently, kissing around the shell of his ear, your hands coming to brush over his hips.

Jungkook already feels like he could cum, he just can’t believe you’re about to touch him.

He has no idea what to expect.

“Ok…” He tilts his lips to mumble against your mouth, his tone boyish and jovial, “ You promise you won’t laugh right?”

At his question you giggle, kissing him and shaking your head, “Of course I’m not going to laugh babe, I’m here to make you feel good.”

He chuckles too, relishing in the way you make him feel: comfortable and comforted.

“OK, I’ll uh…I’ll start now…” He whispers, his shaky and quite frankly clammy hand leaves your knee and, slowly travels to the band of his sweatpants, tucking underneath for a moment before bringing his dick out from it’s confines.

It’s bigger than you anticipated and, as hot as any dick can be. Swollen and curving slightly at the reddened tip, it makes your mouth water; literally every inch of your boyfriend is beautiful.

Jungkook takes a shaky breath in through his nose as he encircles a hand around his length, squeezing tentatively right underneath the tip, the sensation makes his head spin.

He stays silent as he finds a rhythm his comfortable with and, you admire the way his toned stomach trembles with his own ministrations. You take note that he pays careful attention to his  frenulum, his thumb rubbing over it continuously as he strokes himself.

After a few moments, you start pressing kisses into his neck, allowing your hands to wander over his hips, tracing patterns into his skin.

“Jagi…I-“ He mutters before his words catch on the softest moan, the sound of course caused by you nibbling on his neck, “You’re making it so good for me…”

He sounds helpless, like he knows that you touching him is going to ruin him because, you touching on him whilst he jacks off is already fucking him up.

“Yeah? It feels good?” You reaffirm before sucking gently on his sweetspot, a motion that causes his hand to stall right underneath his tip, his head falling back against you.

“Mhm…” He hums and, if he wasn’t reigning it in, he would be whining but, he stops himself, trying to gain some sense, “Do you know how to touch me now?”

He’s starting to feel impatient, because he knows the way your hands feel on him now and, his dick is so hard he feels like he could burst.

You smirk fondly against his neck as you nod slowly, your hand trailing over his wrist which is still working on his length, “Are you ready?”

“Yes…” He answers immediately, letting his hand fall to the side, his eyes closing tightly as he prepares himself for your touch.

“Just relax for me ok? I’m going to make you feel so good.” You coo into his ear before slowly resuming the touch on Jungkooks length.

At the first squeeze of your hand, he’s quite certain he has never felt more pleasure in his entire life, as you slowly drag your fist up his aching dick, his mouth falls open in complete awe but, when you begin the same rhythm he had just performed on himself, Jungkook swears his going to melt into a puddle on the bed.

“Oh-“ He huffs, his eyes popping open to zero in on your hand because, watching you touch him is enough to fill up his spank bank for the rest of the year. “Oh my god…Noona…you’re touching me…”

He’s in disbelief. In 22 years, his never let anyone touch him like this before and, although he can’t believe he ever lived without it, he’s glad it was you who touched him first.

“Mhm…” You hum in his ear, kissing gently on the side of his face, “Does it feel good baby?”

As your thumb repeats his early movements, his brown eyes roll to the back of his head, his adams apple jumping around his throat as he swallows.

“I can’t…feel anything else but, your hand on my dick I-oh my fucking god…” He whimpers, his eyes popping open again to watch your pace increase.

His words surprise you, he’s never been so vulgar before and, now you know why but, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to hear more.

“Nothing else huh? Do you think you’re gonna cum for me baby?” You’re egging him on, wanting him to cum his brains out for you.

You gotta make a good first impression after all…

He nods, his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, his abs trembling even more so with your motions, his toes curling painfully against the sheets.

“Yeah…really soon…for you..” He gets out, not thinking clearly enough to form full sentences.

“Yeah? What if I went a little faster hm? Would that do the trick baby? Will you make a mess now?”

Oh he’s fuck now.

As your pace increases on him, you focus more attention on his throbbing tip, pulling and squeezing him to the point of no return. Jungkook feels nothing but, pleasure as he starts to rock his hips up into your touch.

“I’m gonna cum…I’m gonna cum…oh my god you’re so good…” He mutters before a whimper takes over his speech, eyes squeezing shut as his head falls back against you once more, “fuck….thank you Noona…god thank you so much…”

Those are his last words before his release comes, the sweltering pleasure consuming his entire being, starting up from his balls and, shooting up his length. Jungkook knows in his heart he’s never cum so hard in his life. Nothing could ever compare to the way you make him feel.

“There you go…let it out baby…” You whisper, kissing at his cheeks as you stroke him through his release.

Once his hips begin to twitch with sensitivity, you slow your pace on him, easing off his dick.

Jungkook’s breathing his erratic and, he feels drunk off of the pleasure he’s just received but, he knows for a fact that he came all over himself and, all over your hand.

You wait for him to open his eyes so, he can watch you lick his release from your fingers, taking time to show him the skills of yours he’s yet to experience.

“holy shit…” He mutters, eyes completely glazed over before leaning in and capturing your lips between his and, kissing you with everything he has.

You giggle against his lips before, squealing unceremoniously into the kiss as Jungkook turns quickly in your grip, falling back towards the foot of the bed and, taking you with him. He just chuckles, kissing you harder as he lets his hands run a little more freely over your body.

“I’m guessing you liked it?” You tease into the kiss before he leans back, his expression completely offended.

“Liked it? You’re guessing I liked it???” He blazes dubiously before, pinching your sides and, suddenly leaning into kiss all over your face, nibbling on your cheeks, “You almost made me cry…”

“You cry all the time…” You point out, pinching his side back, causing him to gasp in mock horror.

“Shut upppp…” He whines, smirking as he tucks his face into your neck, nibbling on the skin again and, while it seems innocent, soon enough Jungkook’s nibbling turns into kissing and, his playful touch on your hips turns to caressing.

“Noona?” His tone has shifted lower, it shoots straight down to your core.

“Yeah?” You breathe, eyes shut against the sensation of his lips.

“Will you make a mess now?”

[inspired-by-the-music]

For You: Stand By Me

Taglist: @jineunwootrash @angels-from-california @jayjaydawn

If you would like to be added to the taglist of any of this blog’s works, please ask!

Recommended Reading: For You: 4 O’Clock; these works have separate, independent, but deeply interwoven timelines.

Chapter 15: The Girl Who Woke Me Up

Sehun's POV

It wasn't like Lei to be late, but she was nowhere to be found half an hour into the New Year's party. Although she had been helping her mother set up just a few hours earlier, Lei was not by Manager Kim's side as she made frantic rounds about the room, tiptoeing carefully around Donghae's lingering gaze. Although she and Lucas were nearly inseparable, Lei did not stand by him as he downed another glass of champagne while laughing with Mark Lee at the NCT table.

I was about to send her a concerned text when Taemin said from his side of Jongin, "She is so beautiful."

Like everybody else at the table, I looked toward whoever managed to turn Taemin's voice into a lyrical whisper. It didn't matter that it was none of our business who held Taemin's heart. When somebody loves that openly, everybody wants to watch for a second or two— even me.

My jaw dropped as my eyes settled on her. She was Lei.

Walking beside Baekhyun, Lei held three hearts in the palm of her hand: mine, Baekhyun's, and Taemin's. And I don't even think she knew what she held, what she could destroy with a single touch should she so choose. I think she only felt the weight of my heart because I forced it upon her through forever-kisses at that Christmas Party.

But how— how light, how insignificant might my heart feel compared to that of her ultimate idol? How cold and callous and uncaring might my voice sound compared to his?

How dark, how dull might my love look compared to that of the boy standing next to her? How rough and careless and frozen might my touch feel compared to his when he catches her before she can fall?

My stomach twisted as I fought (and failed) to tear my eyes from the visual of Lei and Baekhyun. They matched so perfectly from head to toe that, had I not known better, had I not believed that she loved me, I would have assumed that she coordinated her outfit with him.

Their dark hair was parted on the left side. Their clothes were crafted from the same sparkling midnight blue material. Their silver masks were a perfect pair that accented their best facial features. Their flowers— their flowers were the worst part. Atop her head, Lei wore a crown of white roses accented by blue baby's breath; she looked like a princess. In the suit pocket over his heart, Baekhyun tucked a white rose; he looked like her prince.

At that moment, I realized that it is much harder to believe in coincidence than it is to believe in fate. At that moment when she was so far out of reach, it was easy to see that Lei and Baekhyun were written in the stars, and I— where was I written?

Suddenly, it was as clear to everyone in the banquet hall as it was to me at the foot of the stairs in Lei's house: they were meant to walk together. Lei and Baekhyun were meant to be viewed as a pair.

As whispers about them, some approving and some disapproving, overtook the party, the tips of my ears burned. My hands formed tight fists under the table. And all I can remember thinking is I have to hide my breaking heart. No, I have to keep it from breaking, at least for now, because it is in her hands. My heart is in her delicate hands, and the jagged shards will make her bleed.

It didn't matter that Baekhyun was standing right there, willing and ready to bandage her. It didn't matter that Taemin could stop the bleeding with a single smile. I didn't want to hurt Lei ever again; I didn't want to scar her anymore. If protecting her meant suffering silently— well— that wasn't anything I hadn't done before.

Quietly, Jongdae whistled. "Who knew that sweet little Princess Lei would grow up to be so pretty?"

Chanyeol laughed loudly as his elbow dug into my ribs. "Someone did, right, Sehun?"

Obviously, I wouldn't have responded to Chanyeol's jest even if I could have found my voice. I wouldn't have known what to say.

Afraid of saying or doing something to shatter the loving image I left with Lei on Christmas, I turned to walk away from the scene that threatened to destroy me. Of course, I wasn't going to hide forever. The plan was to stand some ways away long enough to untangle the knot in my stomach. The plan was to stand aside to remind myself that choices are as significant as fate, and I was Lei's choice. I am Lei’s choice. 

The problem, of course, was my promise to stand where she could see me. I won't go far, I told myself. I'll stand right there, right against that wall, and maybe— hopefully— wouldn't it be nice if she comes to me?

That's pathetic, isn't it— the fact that I still dreamed that she would take the first steps? I'm sorry that I wasn't stronger. I'm sorry that I wasn't bolder. Always, always I was aware of my inadequacies. Always, always I daydreamed about filling them with her. At that moment, however, it occurred to me that that was not right; it occurred to me that that is not love. Above all, it occurred to me that I wanted to give Lei the purest love in her life. 

And I— I didn’t know how. Nobody ever taught me how. 

On my walk, I nearly collided with Taemin. Despite his eagerness to escape the table, he said, "Excuse me, Sehun," through a small smile. The smile wasn't a forced display of manners; it was genuine. I could tell because little wrinkles formed around his eyes.

I had never seen a smile like that before. Although faint, it was not at all sad or indicative of a broken heart even though we were walking away from the same scene: the one we loved beside another. Taemin's smile was joyful, inspired merely by seeing Lei from afar.

I needed to be more like Taemin, I realized as my back pressed against the wall. I needed to learn to love Lei a little more quietly, a little more peacefully, a little more selflessly. Rather than loving her like the careless teenager I had been when we met, rather than relying on her for constant assurance in our relationship that endured storms over a decade, rather than hoping for her to meet me most or all of the way—

I needed to grow up. I needed to find assurance in the steady beating of my own heart. I needed to take the first step for the rest of forever. I would. I will. That’s the promise I made to myself, the promise I made in one of the hearts she held. 

I will love you. I won’t love you perfectly. I won’t love you through a smile as gentle as Taemin’s. I won’t love you with an unmistakable, inescapable warmth like Baekhyun. But I will love you in the best way I know. I will love you with every word I say. I will love you with the words I am not yet brave enough to say. I will love you so deeply for the rest of my life that you will never wonder how I feel. You will never wonder who hung the moon and stars in my sky. 

While Lei defended herself against Chanyeol’s allegation that she had broken my heart as if she could ever be cruel enough to do such a thing, I wrestled with the best way to express my feelings. A verbal conversation wouldn’t do; she enjoyed debating and pressing my buttons too much. I couldn’t very well write a song; that would require enlisting the help of someone like Chanyeol who had better knowledge of music production, and I didn’t want to share my feelings with him (or anybody else, for that matter). 

While Manager Kim captivated the entire room with her heartfelt good-bye’s to Super Junior and Heechul declared that she was resigning from her position as their manager because of her feelings for Donghae, I decided that I could best express myself in writing. Starting from the beginning, I could map out our stars, and there— there I would be written. 

There, I could point to myself on a page and say, ‘I belong here too. I love her too. Even if she wakes up tomorrow and chooses one of you, even if my nightmares come true and she outgrows me, once upon a time, she chose me. Once upon a time, she loved me. Once upon a time, we were the best love story ever written, and I— I— I will never forget that I was her first love, so you shouldn’t either.’

That’s what I wrote on the inside cover of the leather-bound notebook containing our story, by the way. That’s the first of my thoughts that Lei read in my handwriting; it made her break into laughing tears. By that, I mean she was gasping through laughter and tears. So I was also gasping through laughter and tears when she set the book on our bed, crawled to me, and cupped my cheeks with her soft, warm hands, whispering onto my lips, “My first love, my endless love, my Sehun— I am so glad the road led to you.” 

And I believe her. 

When I found Lei standing alone on the terrace where everyone gathered to watch fireworks an hour early at Changmin’s urging, I embraced her. I didn’t think much of the fact that somebody was always watching. I didn’t much care about lingering stares, and I told Lei plainly when she mumbled into my chest, “Someone is going to see, Sehunnie.” 

“I love you,” I reminded her in a whisper per her request. My heart melted into a warm golden puddle in my stomach because of the spoken nickname and because she didn’t push me away. She didn’t argue with me as I declared, “I love you so much that I want everyone to see.” 

That was a funny thing to say, considering that we were huddled together in the darkest corner where no eyes would have strayed. 

I dropped a kiss onto her flower crown because it marked her as a princess— my princess— and it didn’t matter that Baekhyun gave it to her. The affection, I hoped, I prayed, would make me her prince. 

“I love you so much,” I muttered against a rose, “that I want everyone to hear.” 

That was a funny thing to say, considering that I spoke in the faintest whisper that only she could hear. 

Lei giggled as she linked her hands around my waist beneath my jacket. Her laughter was, is, always will be the most beautiful melody in this world. I loved being its conductor. I loved being its audience. 

“I’m so happy, Sehun.” She said my name with the brightest smile I had ever seen. 

It so closely resembled the smile she gave me all those years ago when she first gave me her name. It was still too big for her face, and it made her look much younger than the scowl she hurled at Chanyeol in the banquet hall. The only difference was that she no longer spoke through a gap in her front teeth; the gap was closed. 

After assuring her that I was happy too— far happier than I ever imagined because she stood near— I said, “I miss your gap, Lei. You’re beautiful, and I wouldn’t change a single thing about you, but I really wish I could see your gappy smile one more time.” 

“There are plenty of pictures of it.” The tips of her ears burned red at the compliment, and I thought that I had to call her beautiful every day. From the dimple forming in her chin, however, it was evident that she knew the limitations of photographs. “You know, I miss my gap too. I hated it when I had it, but the thing is: I always picture myself with a gap in my front teeth.” 

I stared into her wide eyes, finding my lovestruck reflection within them. “I always think of you with stars in your eyes.” 

I heard her breath hitch as she held me closer. Breathlessly, she reached for my hand. “I always think of you with my heart on your hand.” 

After bringing my frozen, trembling hand up her lips, she left a ruby-red kiss mark where she once left a fingerprint heart. I wanted to carry that mark everywhere with me. I wanted to boast it to everybody, and I promised to learn how to do that. I promised to learn who to tell. I promised to learn what to say to make them understand how much it meant to me— how much it means to me. 

I think I have learned. I think I have made you understand. I hope that I have. Please, tell me that I have. 

Her gesture rooted in our past, her touch— still electric— made my heart flutter. Her touch, even as my favorite memory, still makes my heart flutter. 

Her touch compelled me to say out loud, “I fell in love with you the day you marked your heart on my hand, you know. All at once, I opened my eyes and realized I was on the edge of a cliff, and I—” I choked on my emotions, but I forced myself to continue— “I was so scared that you wouldn’t wait for me at the bottom.” 

The wind blew and filled my eyes with tears that I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to become an overtly sentimental person, but every wall I ever built around my emotions tumbled at her touch. I didn’t want to shed a single tear, but Lei brought both hands up to my face, wordlessly promising to catch each tear before they fell. 

Lei loved me. She loved me so much from the day we met, and I— I am so grateful. I did not know whether love was meant to be repaid, but I resolved in that moment under her moon and all of her stars to return every loving gaze for the rest of my life. 

I held both of her hands against my cheeks because her touch made me brave enough to speak. “You said that I could walk with you anytime. And I just want you to know that I want to walk with you forever. I want you to know that I’m so sorry for—”

For trying to walk away. For breaking her mistletoe crown. For failing to regard her heart as the treasure it had been all along. 

But I couldn’t say any of those things she deserved to hear. My throat tightened around my words. 

Wiping my tears, Lei promised, “I forgive you. I forgive you, Sehunnie. Everything— everything painful is past, and now we are walking hand-in-hand on a path that doesn’t end.” Her thumbs stroked my cheeks, raising goosebumps in their wake. “Don’t carry things we don’t need, angel. Don’t carry things that will only hurt you. It’s okay.” 

Lei pulled me into the sweetest kiss. It lasted for about a millisecond, a blink in time, and I knew that was all we were, but God— God— we felt infinite. I think— no, I know this is love: when somebody makes you, a mere mortal, feel as though time has stopped; when somebody makes you feel as if forever, eternity, and fate were words written for you. 

“In case you forgot,” Lei said, “I love you too.” She beamed up at me, so I had to smile even as she winked in an attempt to dig under my skin: “In case you forgot, I loved you first!” 

Because I couldn’t argue with the truth, I rolled my eyes. “Yeah. Okay. You loved me first, but—” I caught her around the waist and leaned to whisper in her ear— “I’ll love you longer.” 

“As if,” she scoffed, pushing me away so I could catch the furrowing of her brow. “How can you even make such a bold claim? I told you, Sehunnie, I’ve loved you forever, and I’ll love you forevermore. What could last longer than forever?”

Feigning deep contemplation, I hummed through puckered lips, hoping that Lei would rise to kiss them. (Note: Lei never disappoints.) “Maybe forever in writing? I think I heard once that a love recorded on paper, in a film, or in a song lives forever.” 

“If you’re planning to write about me,” she said, “you should know that I’ve been writing about you too. I’ve been trying to map out or stars since we kissed in your car, but I— I can’t figure out how the stars aligned.” Her head went aslant. “But I also can’t figure out how we could have ended up anywhere else with anybody else.” 

It had been made clear to me that any misstep could have led Lei to Baekhyun or Taemin. Maybe she will find her way to them someday no matter what I do, but I gave no voice to those thoughts. Taking a deep breath, I soared at the imagination of Lei writing to pinpoint the correlation between the me of the past, the me of her dreams, and the me of right now. I hoped she was proud to have created a place where we could be together forever, even if someday we should wake up on different paths. 

It’s romantic, isn’t it, that we separately experienced the same epiphany concerning our stars? 

“Some things are just meant to be,” I figured, sounding unlike the version of myself who struggled to believe in things like destiny, the version I had been for almost all of my life. “You and I— Lei, we are the greatest meant to be I can imagine.” 

When I stepped into the warmth of the agency building from the winter snow, I quickly found Lei asleep at that table by the vending machine where we met. Her face was almost completely nuzzled into the bend of her elbow, into the cloud-soft baby blue sleeve of her sweater. Her dark hair sprawled over much of the table; it was so long then, almost reaching her waist. She shouldn’t have been recognizable, but I would have known her anywhere, from any distance. 

“Wake up,” I whispered into her ear as I settled into the chair next to her, wrapping an arm around her waist. “I’m here.” 

Once Lei sat upright and set to rubbing her sleep-swollen eyes, it was obvious that we couldn’t go out on an adventurous date. That much should have been obvious, I know, determined by our roles as idols, but I hadn’t shaken that image of her and Baekhyun standing together at the New Year’s party from the front of my mind. 

I wasn’t jealous anymore. That initial towering wave of nausea and the drowning sense of inferiority had passed without casting me overboard. It just occurred to me once the storm cleared and the sun broke through the clouds that I wanted to be the person by her side forever; I wanted to stand by her in the light; I wanted it to be obvious to strangers from a glance that we were meant to walk together. 

Rising to her feet and slinging her bookbag— the tiny pink Hello Kitty bag she carried since childhood, the bag still donning the keychain I bought for her tenth birthday— Lei groaned, “I’m exhausted! And I didn’t even realize it until I woke up.” 

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” I said as I followed her, “but there are more comfortable places to sleep, you know.” 

Lei had worked herself to the point of exhaustion, I know without a doubt, because she made no argument; she loved to argue. 

On our walk to the door, I reached for her hand, which was always much smaller than mine. She flinched at the contact probably because my hands were always cold, maybe because she wasn’t yet used to affection, hopefully because my touch was electric. 

As shocked as she had been at the start, Lei was the one who interlaced our fingers. Lei was the one who whined when I had to break the contact to open the passenger door and then round to the driver's seat. Lei was the one who reached for my hand as soon as I set it on the steering wheel. 

“I just want to feel you.” Her words blurred together drowsily, but her eyes shot open— wide awake— when I glanced at her. “Your hands are so warm, Sehunnie, and it’s so cold outside. I’m freezing!”

After turning the heat up, I said through a budding smile while starting down the familiar path to her house, “Nobody has ever called my hands warm. Then again, nobody ever held my hands before you.” 

“And nobody will hold my hands after you,” I almost said. Because I didn’t want to think of a time after her— I didn’t want to think of a time without her— I bit down on my tongue. I left those words unsaid. Unspoken words hold power too. 

“Your hand was warm at the drive-in too,” she told me. “Holding your hand made me feel like the moon and stars smiled down at us.” 

There was no moon and there were no stars that night, I remembered clearly, but I didn’t remind Lei. Maybe this sounds crazy, but I hope she misremembered a lot about those days before I could love her. In a way, I hoped she romanticized them; I hoped she saw them— I hope she saw the past me— through love-colored lenses. I hoped the stars smiled in all of her memories. 

With an almost childlike quality of honesty— the kind that I never wanted to argue with, the kind I only thought I had to argue with— Lei said, “Holding your hand makes me feel like spring has come.” 

Butterflies raged in my stomach and told me the perfect thing to say: “That’s funny. Looking at you makes me feel like spring has come.” 

I think that might have made her squeal had she not been drifting to sleep. Her head banged against the window every few seconds. 

“Lay back,” I tried to demand sternly, but my voice was nothing but a gentle whisper around her after Christmas. “Lei, lean your chair back and go to sleep. You’re gonna bruise your face or give yourself a concussion if you keep hitting your head.” 

Without opening her eyes, she argued, “I don’t wanna go to sleep! I wanna stay awake with you!” 

She was being rather childish, I thought, but she repeated that sentiment once we sat together on her living room couch, which was no longer tainted by the memory of finding Lucas atop her on her birthday. 

“But you’re tired.” Tightening my arms around her waist, I pulled her closer and encouraged her to lean into me, to fall asleep on me. “Just close your eyes, and I’ll go to sleep with you.” 

Lei didn’t resist my pull. Her eyelashes tickled the skin on my neck as she laid against me and allowed her eyelids to flutter shut. Without mumbling another word, she fell into that deep heavy-breathing sleep, and I wondered how many nights she had avoided sleep. I wondered how I was supposed to fall asleep with her laying so close. I wondered how I was supposed to close my eyes while my heart pounded in my chest, eager to break free and unite with hers. I wondered how I was supposed to breathe while her breath whispered across my skin. 

I was wide awake— I am wide awake— and I never want to sleep again.

[desperationandgin]

Deep in My Soul: The Cellist Series Part 4

Rating: General Audiences

Also Read On: Ao3

Summary: Jamie and Claire are separated, but Claire finds a way to cope.

A/N: So, the Cellist series began in December, as part of the Winter of Want collection. Because I needed something Christmas based and it was Jamie and Claire's first meeting, it just happened to work out that each month was happening in real time. Therefore, it's currently April 2020 in this series. Which means Jamie and Claire are having to detail with COVID-19 just like everyone else. I know, I know.

ALSO, this is very belated birthday gift to @missclairebelle. I first brainstormed these beautiful babies in a group chat with you and @smashing-teacups. You keep me smutty and honest, K ♥️ 

Deep in my Soul: Cellist Series Part 4

Claire hasn’t seen Jamie in twenty days. Not face-to-face, not for an embrace or a kiss. When the virus began to spread, and Scotland issued shelter-in-place orders, it was Jamie who’d had to continue doing his job. Rescue personnel would always be essential, and because of the risks, Jamie made the decision for both of them to stay at the firehouse until further notice. They spoke every day, multiple times, and FaceTime was a blessing, but that didn’t make up for the fact that neither of them had the other to collapse with.

He’d only moved in with her on the first of March, and they’d managed two weeks of finding their new normal only to have it turned upside down. Claire had no idea how the apartment she’d lived in for years by herself could suddenly feel so empty without him.

The daylight hours have been filled easily enough; moving his things in forced her to purge some of her own and organize the closets. She works on the balcony garden and finally gets around to cleaning all of the cupboards. There are books to read and television shows to binge (the trashier things she only watches with Sesh as her witness). On the morning of the twentieth day, she begins teaching herself how to knit, but it comes to a stop once Sesh runs off with the end of her yarn. There are plenty of things to keep her busy during the day, but at night, after supper for one and something mindless on Youtube, all she can do is count down the minutes until Jamie’s call before bed.

Sesh arrives in the living room from down the hall, arching her back in a stretch before jumping gracefully onto the couch. Rather than go to Claire, the black cat plops down on top of a blanket Jamie brought when he moved in.

“Traitor,” Claire murmurs, but there’s an unmistakable lump in her throat. “I miss him too.”

As soon as the phone vibrates in her hand, she swipes to answer, greeted by an extreme close up of Jamie’s… she blinks, squints and, as he pulls back, realizes it’s only his finger accidentally in front of the camera.

“I thought Sesh and I were about to be scandalized,” she quips with a grin as his face finally comes into view.

“Wha?” he asks, clearly distracted as he nods at someone she can’t see, and a door closes somewhere behind him.

“Nothing, love,” she replies, smile fading a bit. “Is everything alright?”

The endearment is all he needs to fully focus on her, feeling the warmth of her even through the phone. Jamie gives her an apologetic smile. “Do ye ken how restless people are getting, Sassenach? ‘Tis only busier by the day, and I’ve agreed to pick up another shift.”

“You look exhausted.” She squints at his features on the screen. “When’s the last time you slept?”

“Only just woke. I’m no’ even sure what day it is anymore. Is it mornin’ or night?” He asks his question in half-jest with a sleepy smile. “I rolled over and called ye, that’s all I ken.”

“It’s a quarter to ten at night. You go on at midnight, then?” she asks, her heart still catching up to the knowledge that he’s essentially started his day with her.

Checking a piece of paper he pulls out of his pocket, he nods. “Aye. Which means I have a bit of time wi’ ye. How was day infinity of yer self-isolation?”

“I’ve given up on knitting indefinitely. Sesh supports this decision, just so you know.”

Jamie grins. “Fine wi’ me. I like being the knitter in the family.”

With one sentence, her heart leaps at the promise of endless days with Jamie coming home to her, his family. It makes their separation now seem small, an obstacle to overcome together and look back on as the time they knew forever was certain.

“As long as you promise to knit me a blanket in your spare time. Whenever that may be,” Claire adds with sympathy in her voice.

“Technically, I have some time now, but I would rather spend it speaking wi’ ye, mo nighean donn. Unless ye go to sleep on me.” He calls her after every shift - her rule, even if they only speak for a few moments, and she’s fallen asleep often enough that he now has a folder on his phone entirely of screenshots as proof.

“I’m not falling asleep,” she promises. “I miss you too much.”

His face softens as he leans forward, sitting on the edge of the bed with his arms resting on his thighs. “I ken. Christ, I miss ye, too. To kiss ye right now, Sassenach, would be heaven.”

“I would settle for your arms around me.” She never was someone who appreciated the value of a good hug. Not until Jamie wrapped her in his arms for the first time and she’d pressed in against the solid warmth of him. There was no going back then, and without him, there’s been a gnawing hollowness growing around her heart.

Everything she feels passes on her face, and Jamie feels frustration tug at him, recklessness and duty warring with one another as if the angel and devil were on his shoulders. “I promise, when this is over, I’m putting in for the time away and you and I are going somewhere verra remote and verra beachy.”

That pulls a smile from her, and Claire settles in on the couch. “So far, I’m very much enjoying this idea. Beaches and the ocean do sound appealing.” She hums. “The Maldives?”

“Aye, that sounds obnoxious enough to brag about when we’re home,” he agrees, enjoying the way she tosses her head back and laughs.

“I’ll start looking into it,” she promises once she’s recovered. “How have you been feeling?”

“Och, fine. Ready to sleep in my own bed again. Ready to stay in it wi’ ye for at least three days.”

“Don’t tease,” Claire groans, sighing softly as Sesh, who has apparently had enough of the conversation, jumps gracefully to the floor. For a moment, Claire’s eyes follow her cat all the way to the cello case in the corner. Jamie is saying something she’s missing as an idea slowly comes to her.

“Are you going to be busy in half an hour?” she interrupts, looking at him.

He squints at the camera. “I figured I would still be talking to ye in half an hour, Sassenach.” Confusion etches his features as he watches the wheels turn on her face. “Why?”

“I’ll call you back. Half hour,” she promises.

The video cuts off before he can get another word in, and Jamie stares at his phone, confused but not worried as he stands and stretches. He takes the time to wash up and eat something, and he’s finishing a sandwich she dropped off for him earlier in the week when she calls back. But it isn’t video this time, and he brings the phone to his ear. He doesn’t even have a chance to speak.

“Come outside.”

He doesn’t move as his mind tries to process what it is she’s asking. “Do what?”

“Jamie, come outside.”

The smile in her voice and the realization of what she’s saying both hit at the same time, and he’s on his feet, phone still stupidly to his ear. Leaving the building, he walks out into the car park, and there she is. She’s wearing the same black dress she always wears for concerts, but she’s makeup-free, curls loose and tumbling over her shoulders. Cello between her thighs, the light from the quarter moon is enough to make her glow, ethereal in the dark. There’s the space of a small vehicle between them - not close enough to touch, but near enough to see her face.

Claire smiles at him, takes in the look of sheer shock on his face, and begins to play. It’s a relatively known piece, at least the beginning - a Bach suite in G. She closes her eyes, the memorized piece falling away from the Prelude and segueing into Allermande.

As Jamie watches, he slips his phone into his pocket, and when she doesn’t stop playing, one hand moves over his mouth in shock and surprise. To play for him at home is one thing, but as the music swells and echoes in the night, his colleagues wander out in curiosity to watch and listen. She sways with the music, moves her body as if she’s the instrument and the cello is merely a tool for the notes to pour out of. She plays and the audience grows, but when she opens her eyes before beginning Courante, she only looks at him.

There may be others watching, but this moment is only for the two of them.

Vaguely, Claire is aware of the crowd, but her focus is intently on Jamie. She misses the nights after making love, curled on her side and tangled with him as they take one another in. His eyes are never so blue as they are after he’s spilled into her, loving her with every fiber of his being. Her eyes drift to his lips, missing the way he deftly and delicately moves over breasts, missing the way he claims her, strokes her.

She continues to play, and he continues to look right at her, moonlight catching the glint of burning gold in her eyes. He’s never wanted someone so badly and been denied it. His gaze finally drifts from hers to the long line of her leg, then up to watch the muscles of her bare arms, her nimble fingers moving as easily over the strings as they do along his body. By the time he reaches her face again, her eyes are closed once more. He realizes that she’s playing the entire piece, a full twenty minutes, and he brings a hand over his chest. The overwhelming love he has for her causes a tightness in his throat that he tries to swallow back, attempting to keep his emotions in check. He never did understand it, when people were moved to tears by music, but now he knows the feeling intimately, wiping away the dampness on his cheeks.

When the last note is carried off into the night, Claire finishes with her eyes closed and head bowed a bit. The applause snaps her out of it, smiling softly, almost shyly, as she stands and curtseys to Jamie’s co-workers.

“Alright, all of ye, go,” Jamie finally says, turning to usher everyone back inside, though he doesn’t miss the soft smooching sounds coming from Angus, shoving him in the back jovially as he walks inside. Once he and Claire are finally alone again, he stands with his back to her for a moment, eyes trained on the door as he waits to be sure no one will return.

“Did you like it?”

When he turns, she’s already placed her cello and bow carefully in their case, and she’s watching him. She’s pulled her jacket from the back of the chair, arms loosely wrapped around herself, looking at him as if he holds the answer to every question she’s ever wondered in her life.

“What in God’s name sort of question is that?” he asks, a tone of amusement making a smile break wide on her face.

“Just checking.” She steps as close as she dares to and studies his face. “I miss you, Jamie Fraser.”

It goes against every instinct he has not to reach out and touch her, to kiss the longing right off her lips. “Aye. I miss ye too, Claire Randall.”

“This is better than FaceTime, but it still isn’t enough.”

“Anything less than being able to take ye in my arms isna enough,” he agrees.

They lapse into silence, studying one another’s full bodies for the first time in days. It’s a quiet appraisal that ends when she speaks again.

“When this is over, I would very much like for you to spend one of those three days off doing nothing but holding me while we plan our future vacation.”

He smiles easily, despite hating that he can’t reach out and pull her into a very thorough and appreciative kiss. “I can arrange that,” he promises. “For now, all I have is the promise of days spent doing nothing but sunbathing and making love to ye.”

Just the thought of him over her, loving her, is enough to make her skin flush with warmth. “You are a man of your word. I’m holding you to that.” Her voice suspiciously wavers, the longing for him turning into an emotional note in her voice.

“I swear it, a nighean,” he vows. “I’ll never stop loving ye.”

“I never doubted that.”

For a few heartbeats, they stand in one another’s orbit in shared silence before a gust of wind makes her wrap her arms tighter around herself.

“Ye should go, Sassenach. Go, be warm and cozy wi’ a cup of tea before bed,” he urges. “I’ll call ye when my shift is over, aye?” His voice is gentle, wishing he could reach out and push a curl behind her ear.

“I love you. I’ll cook tomorrow and bring a few nights’ worth of suppers. Any other requests?”

“Only to have ye, so home-cooked meals will have to do.” He pauses, studying her again and once more feeling emotion swell in his chest. “Thank ye. For coming here, for barin’ yerself.”

“No one could see me but you,” she says with conviction, eyes on him, unblinking. “That was only for you.”

Those times she’s played nude, when he could kiss along the supple curves of one side of her body in an attempt to drive her to distraction - those were the moments she conjured with her music, and he understands her immediately. “Soon, Sassenach. No’ tomorrow, but soon.”

“Until then, feel free to send me salacious text messages,” she quips, moving to gather the folding chair up, putting it in the boot of her car.

“Oh, aye? How salacious are we talking, Sassenach?”

Claire contemplates it as she puts her cello in the back seat, then turns to face him. “I wouldn’t mind a photo or two.”

He raises an eyebrow. “That could possibly be arranged.” Christ, this woman.

“I’ll see what I can do for you in return, Mr. Fraser,” she practically purrs. Then, with more seriousness, she blows him a kiss. “The best I can do for now.”

“I’ll take it,” Jamie says sincerely, his smile warm and tender. “Text me when ye get home?”

“I will.” She stands there, then takes a breath, huffing it out. “You have to go inside, or I can’t leave.”

Ducking his head, he smiles softly, then nods, accepting the burden of strength this time, knowing it will be her turn the next. “Goodnight, Sassenach. I love ye.”

“I love you. Be careful.”

Jamie turns to go, finally reciprocating her blown kiss.

“Always am.”

[sharada-n]

Febuwhump day 4 - Impaling

Fandom: Good Omens

(because sometimes you need to write some good old Aziraphale!whump to treat yourself!)

Many times since arriving in this cold and dark country had Aziraphale thought he would have been better off staying in London.

Not because of the weather, which was dreadfully dour and worse than what he was used to, for so far as that was still possible. Not for the people, who were broody and suspicious of strangers – certainly strangers who were quirky and fair with a bounciness to their step and panache to their speech. Not even the terrible meals were what made Aziraphale regret sailing over here.

Oh no, it was his own curiosity he lamented.

Curiosity wasn't a virtue to humans, and for angels even less so. But Aziraphale was weak and wont to give in to his own whims and as he was pushed against the moist forest ground scattered with dead leaves by two men, he realized he couldn't name the little village he had been staying in, or which country this was.

They did tell him curiosity killed the cat.

The boy was barely a few years into puberty, dark hair and big green eyes that only grew wider in fear when his father pressed the wooden stake and the hammer into his hands. Hawthorne carved and sculpted and said to be perfect to extirpate the creatures of myth that were currently rumored to roam these parts. The same myths Aziraphale had traveled so far to learn more about, to record for the sake of human peculiarities.

The father spoke in rushed tones, a language Aziraphale knew as he did all others, but didn't hear often in the Queen's country. His speech was too disjointed to make out much anyway, though the underlying purpose was clear. Somehow they had become convinced that those terrible soulless creatures of the night were real.

And that Aziraphale was one of them.

With the intent of keeping their families safe and keeping themselves safe, they had decided to take the only logical course of action and kill him. Two men kept a firm grip on Aziraphale's arms, calloused hands digging into the wool of his coat and using force to push him to his knees. The third man had brought his young son, Aziraphale could not decipher why. but he could decipher perfectly what his intention was as he handed the stake over to the boy, pointing a finger and talking another few low words.

A scared glance was sent his way before the boy was shaking his head, fingers curled around the wood and he was shivering either from fear or cold as he tried to force the improvised tools back into his father's hands. For all his efforts, they were only put back into his own. Another few words and then the father shoved his son forward with a firm push to the small of his back.

The dim dusk light reflected off the tears threatening to spill from the boy's eyes. Aziraphale wanted to say something – wanted to tell the poor lad that this was all a big mistake and he shouldn't have to do this – but the words had dried on his tongue like holy water in the pits of hell. Motionless, he watched the child raise the stake with one hand, the hammer with the other, pressing it up to their own shoulders in anticipation.

Then it descended towards Aziraphale's chest.

Pain ripped through his being as the stake pierced his skin, burrowing into the flesh beneath. Aziraphale hadn't been frightened – such a silly human emotion for one who couldn't die. And while not the most gracious way to go, being staked at least was supposed to be quick and instant when done right.

Which was how he realized seconds later, it had not been done right.

The ripples of agony were radiating too low, below his ribcage and when he opened his eyes he could see blood pool out and stain his waistcoat, making dark patches against the ground. The stake had buried deep, but too low. Much too low to reach his heart.

The boy realized his mistake at the same time, letting out a high-pitched and terrified squeak. One of the men holding Aziraphale's arms let go in surprise, but he didn't manage much more than to slump forward, renewing the pain from his wound to new heights. Blinking out of his stupor, the father started loudly cursing at his son for failing what was probably perceived as a simple task, a rite of approaching adulthood for people of their craft. He snatched the hammer out of the boy's hands and then went to make a grab for the stake still protruding from Aziraphale's chest.

A smothered gasp escaped him, the wood actually being a lot more painful when exiting than when it went in. The foul taste of iron spread in Aziraphale's throat, blood coming up with unsubdued coughs to stain his lips.

On command, the other man let go too and then Aziraphale was tumbling backward, the back of his head hitting the ground with a dull thud, getting leaves tangled in his curls. He could barely see the sky through the trees and his vision was already growing hazy.

Truly, God must have been in the foulest of moods when she came up with the blessing of a drawn-out death.

The father towered over him in blurry shapes, the stake the only remaining solid objects in Aziraphale's vision and he had given up praying a long time ago – hadn't seen the use of it when he had a direct line to heaven itself – but at that moment he could only hope it would be swift and painless.

But what he was waiting for never came.

Instead, it was Crowley's hands that touched his cheeks, traveled coldly down the length of his neck and downward more to pull his coat to the side. Aziraphale tried to protest, a vague murmur with no strength behind it that was cut off by a gasp when he felt his own corporal tissue sewing itself together. The pain was indescribable and far worse than the stake had been.

Then Crowley was trying to hoist him up by his armpits to get him into a seated position. Hurt echoed through him, but not as unbearable as before and Aziraphale managed to comply, leaning against the other for support. His head fell onto Crowley's shoulder.

"You shouldn't waste a miracle on me, dear fellow." Even speaking was hard with traces of blood clogging up his throat. The wound had healed enough to not be fatal anymore, but not much more than that.

"Do piss off," was Crowley's response, ever eloquent. His head whipped from side to side as if he was looking for something but he seemed to think better of it. "C'mon then."

Aziraphale shook his head, indicating he was in no position to go gallivanting off just yet. He feared that using his legs now would only cause them to collapse underneath him. "Where are the humans, the boy-"

"I didn't kill them if that's what you're asking," Crowley said, the faint traces of displeasure on his face. He was too humanely pale with worry.

Forcing a smile that might resemble more of a grimace in the current circumstances, Aziraphale answered. "I wasn't."

Crowley looked at him, the fiery color of his eyes over the spectacles and Aziraphale always thought he looked a bit silly like that. But he never mentioned it. Knowing when to keep your tongue was not a human virtue either, but it certainly was a divine one.

"How did you find me?" he asked when he felt recovered enough to get up. Crowley supported him in the endeavor, throwing one of Aziraphale's arms over his shoulder and keeping his own curled tight around his waist.

Crowley carefully started moving, throwing continued glances at his face to make sure he wasn't in any undue pain. "You pinned a note on the door of the bookshop, angel. Said you were going to hunt vampires?"

"It was in jest."

"You don't say." Crowley kicked at the stake on the ground, stained red with Aziraphale's blood. Dropped in the men's haste to get away from a real creature of the night making its appearance. "Looks like they found you first. You really are stellar at getting into trouble, you know. Good thing I'm always there to save you."

Aziraphale tried to laugh, but his chest hurt too much to allow it. "I do hope that was also in jest."

Crowley didn't reply. And that in itself might have been answer enough.

[anqclwings]

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙  / jung eunbi ( euhna ), 22, she/her, cisfemale / ⟶ welcome to the big top minhee “minnie” jeong! i heard that you go by angel and that you’re 22 and a silk aerialists? that’s pretty impressive, considering you’ve been with the circus for 4 years. i heard people say you were humorous and independent, but also flippant and uninhibited, and that you remind them of the erratic beating of your heart, the flickering of an orange neon sign in the dark, the feeling of the wind whipping through your hair. guess we’ll see if it’s true, eh? [ aries, 21, she/her, pst]

heyooo y’all !!! i’m aries ( she/her )and i’m ngl this intro was typed up pretty fast because i let myself get distracted by pintrest like the dumb@$$ i am !! but i just wanna say that i’m super excited to be here and show off my baby minnie to you as well as meet all you wonderful people and your muses !! minnie’s made from an old character that i loved dearly and just tweaked to fit here a bit better !!! her pintrest is: here and her stats page is: here for just a small and quick overview if y’all don’t wanna ready this mess i’m about to type up below !! and this: here is her plots page !! also sorry it’s so qucik i have work in like 20 minutes so this was typed up super quick lmao !! it’s a mess !!

minnie grew up in a very strict household when she was younger, up untikl she was 18 ( when she ran away with the circus to join them bc it looked amazing and just... so much more than what she felt like she had at home )

used to be in gymnastics-- honestly, was probably even on her way to make nationals but her family life was always intent on making their name known and making it big and just so RESTRICTING she was honestly starting to crack under the pressure until the circus rolled around

seeing them had opened minnie’s eyes and hse wanted to feel that free and happy and just.. she hsad turned 18 so she was technically legal and adult enough to make her own decisions so she packed up a small bag and never looked back when she applied to be a part of the circus

| PRESENT |

so if i had to compare minnie to people she would definitely be a combination of joey tribbiani ( FRIENDS ), carl gallagher ( SHAMELESS ), and A TINY BIT like anna ( FROZEN )

that being said, minnie is someone who you should never take anything she says to heart-- she likes to joke and jest a lot with any and everyone despite the situation !! 

her brain to mouth filter is almost none existent due to the fact she just... doesn’t care to hold herself back or filter herself. this came from the fact that she grew up in a very rule/schedule oriented household before she joined the circus

her impulse control ?? zilch. nada. nonexistent. good luck trying to get her to do anything that’s safe-- or in her own words “boring”

has, on many occasions, joked around with new comers about “falling” and jokingly made it look like she messed up on a routine and fell before catching herself and teased them that she didn’t actually mess up and that she wasn’t going to hurt herself

very blunt in the sense of she won’t hesitate to get in an argument if she feels like arguing. sometimes she’ll even purposefully start an argument bc she’s bored. probably has gone out to the local bars and gotten into spats with the patrons there for FUN

honestly tho... it’s all kind of a front she puts up. the uncaring, jesting, clown type person who has no boundaries and/or regrets.... yeah, no, she really does but that’s like.... something she doesn’t want people to think she has because that means being vulnerable to a person and giving them control over you and she’s been there done that. won’t do it again.

has the mentality that if people don’t expect much from you then you can’t disappoint them

not to say sdhe doesn’t drop her mask for somoene serious and levelheaded for certain  people... they just have to be super special for her

HATES when people are overly demanding and think they’re in charge and take it too far... she won’t hesitate to be the first one to defy/rebel against them slkdfjl

plays pranks and jokes around... way too much im so sorry

probably the one making innuendos and bad decisions for everyone

the bad angel on your shoulder but she means well i swear !!!

a saggitarius sun, moon, and taurus rising asldfjk so !! good luck with that one yall !!

honestly that’s all i can think about rn and a very quick description of her !!! if you need any more pls let me know !! i don’t mind explaining more or going in more depth !! 

[lizziehatter]

Every revealed quote from CTD and the Thomas Novella

Since I cannot wait for the release of both of these and I am going through a Cressworth withdrawal (pls Kerri release this novella soon I beg), I put together all the quotes I know of. PLEASE CRESSWORTHIANS OBSESS OVER THEM WITH ME, I BEG YOU, BECAUSE I TRULY CAN’T WAIT UNTIL SEPTEMBER. Send me asks saying which ones are your favourites, making theories of what the quotes could mean or just freaking out over Cressworth being together in the bath honestly, I’m game for anything.

I - Thomas Novella

1) The opening quote: “The prince of darkness is a gentleman.” (King Lear, Act 3, Scene 4). Not really from Kerri’s writing (hello Shakespeare) but still counts right? 

2) "Blood spilled over my hands in warm, rhythmic torrents. For one drawn out moment, I was frozen, then my world narrowed to an equation. Sterile. Familiar. Calm. The exact opposite of my surroundings." 

3) “I longed to touch her. First her mind, then her heart, and, finally, her body. I wished to own every inch of space between us and fill it with each emotion I’d ever suppressed or pretended away. I wanted to strip my soul bare for only her to see, and then do the same with my clothing, giving her everything I had of me. Scars and all.”

4) “I thought of numerators and denominators and the incalculable way my heart raced as she slowly licked her lips as if she’d deduced the heat blazing through me, destroying my resolve to set her free.”

5)     “Thomas?” she asked, her eyes stubbornly fixed on my mouth. I was finding it hard to think, to breath. She wasn’t aware of it, but when she gave something her attention, the force of it was overwhelming. “Why are you sneaking about this early?” 

         To find salvation from my demons. To stop pacing inside the cage of my room and the fears that threatened to be my undoing. To feel the stinging prickle of snow on my face and forget there wasn’t a cure for my current condition. Her gaze was a palpable caress as she slowly shifted it downward, igniting a deep male need I was startled by. 

         “I’m not sneaking, I’m prowling, Wadsworth.” I gave her a lazy grin. It was an effort to keep my tone casual, to stop myself from trying to kindle her desire too. Though, judging from the longing in her expression, perhaps she’d fanned the flames on her own. “Why are you sneaking about?”

6) “I will not become a monster for you.” 

II - Capturing the Devil

PART 1 - QUOTES FROM THE CHAPTER SAMPLER (the sampler will be revealed at events that Kerri will attend). The sampler is probably 40 pages long, based on what Kerri said on twitter. Each quote follows the number of which page they are from. 

1) “Instead of being terrified of her imminent death and thinking only of darkness, my mother wrote us letters. She wouldn’t survive to see either of us____________" (Somewhere near page 4)

2) “Oh, Thomas. Are you all right?” A single tear slipped down his cheek as he nodded. (Page 4)

3) “A faint image bled through the fabric. I leaned in. “What is that?” He glanced down as if he hadn’t a clue, then shrugged”. (Page 7)

4) “There was a sadness in its face that made me wonder if it was truly an angel. Perhaps it was one of the fallen.” (Page 14)

5) “Do you honestly expect me to address that creature that way? Where did you even find it?” (Page 15)

6) “I thought the gift of my presence was your one true wish,” I said blandly. (page 16)

7) Once they’d left, Liza tapped the image in the magazine again. “Well?” (Page 28)

8) “Why are you smiling like that? I’m trying to have a serious moment and you appear as though you either need to use the loo or have inexplicably sat on an anthill in the middle of my room.” (page 35)

9) This excerpt is also a part of the chapter sampler, but not the ones that Kerri shared on twitter, so I don’t know in which page it’s located. Also, she shared this on her insta story, and parts of it were covered by the text that she wrote on top of the image, so this is my best guess on what was written. The () are the parts I couldn’t read.        

      I lost my futile battle with morality. () like a () who’d discovered his hearts’ deepest () claim it immediately. ()ized his respect for me and my () the only tethers holding him in place. One little nod would unleash him.

      My heart raced as I silently gave him permission, wanting him to touch me again so badly it almost ached. Thomas Cresswell never disappointed. He leaned into me, his body snug between my thighs.

      “Your nightgown is nice, but your lace is what attracts and captivates me.” His gaze travelled from mine, meandering down the road of delicate lace, igniting a new wave of desire as he gripped the sheer fabric at my hip. His touch was scorching. I couldn’t stop myself from arching into it, craving more. “Your body…” 

      His fingers lingered on the ribbons. I enjoyed () the garment and how I felt both bold and soft while wearing it. Thomas seemed to appreciate it for other reasons, and he was no longer masking how much he wanted me. I drew in a ragged breath and fought the urge to completely disrobe him. If he kept looking at me that way, I’d lose control.

      “Your spirit…”

      Thomas dragged his attention down every () leaving no part neglected, his breath hitching the lower (). If looks could consume, he’d just devoured me. 10) Now we know this part and the next are from the chapter sampler as well, thanks to the entire chapter (!) that was released with the cover, so I have moved them here.  “I pulled back and his focus shifted to where my bare shoulders met the water. His gaze darkened in a dangerously seductive manner, awakening a sudden need in me.         “At least be a gentleman and turn around.”         His expression hinted that he was far from a gentleman at the moment, and a quick inspection of my face confirmed I liked it. Excitement thrummed through my veins.” 11)       “My aunt will die from the scandal!”                                Thomas brushed a piece of hair from my face, then slowly moved his lips from my jaw to my ear and back, kissing my bare skin until I was convinced we soaked, unhurt, in a pool of fire, and each of my fears and worries of being caught burned away.                

            “Then we ought to be very quiet.”             He lifted me higher and I stared into his eyes, losing myself in the sensation of running my fingers through his damp hair. He looked at me like I was a goddess—like I was fire and magic and spell work combined in human form. I traced a finger down to his collar, teasing the first button open. I suddenly wanted to see more of him, I needed to. 12) The entire (!) Chapter 14 from CTD, which can be found here. PART II – QUOTES FROM THE REST OF THE BOOK

1) “He repeated my name across my skin like an incantation, his tone as reverent as those praising gods.”  

2) “He brushed his thumb over my lower lip, his voice smooth and alluring in the dim light. ‘If the world thinks we’re heading straight to hell, we might as well enjoy the journey there. I’d much rather dance with the devil than sing with angels. Wouldn’t you?’” 

3) “Before we left for the play you seemed to want—“

“—you, Thomas.” I pulled him to me, silencing his smart mouth with a kiss. 

4)  “I crumpled the letter and fed it through the ornate grate covering the fireplace, watching as its edges shifted from black to orange before fulling catching fire. I waited until it had disintegrated to ash before turning way.” 

5) "Except maybe I’d never been born with the devil in me as he'd suggested. Maybe my monster was more vampiric in nature. I did not crave death, I craved blood." 

6)   “If he wished for a taste of my darkness, I hoped he recalled poison could also be sweet. Sweeter than berry wine and more deadly than oleander. This rose welcomed her thorns, perhaps more-so than her petals.”

7) “__isting until my hands were covered in his sins.”

8) “Love is immortal. Death can neither touch nor steal it. Especially when it’s true."

9) “Who are you?” I asked, only half-jesting.

       He stopped walking. “I am the man who will love you unto forever.” 10) “At some point, we’re all someone’s hero and another’s villain.” 11) I leveled a cold look at him.                  “This isn’t a fairytale. I’m not a white knight or some morally incorruptible prince.”        “If you claimed to be either of those, I’d know one thing for certain.”                    “And that would be?”                  “That you’re a villain and a liar. Same as me.” 12)  “there is nothing in this world, no threat mighty enough to keep me from you.”

[bts-love-sweat-tears]

The one ring to bind them all, or just a solitary, cranky demon, part 5

Title: The one ring to bind them all (or just a solitary, cranky demon), part 5

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Type: fluff, angst, romance, demon!au, arranged marriage!au, royalty!au, gothic!au

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: literal emotional manipulation, mentions of previous injury, massive amounts of cheese, just a lot of interpersonal drama: jealous boyfriend.

Word Count: 2,435

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 , Part 4

A/N: I’m sitting here drinking cherry blossom sake and feeling ashamed that it took me so long to post this- I meant to have it out on Halloween for spooky season. But instead I re-wrote it about 50000 times.  I’ve been feeling very soft lately, so this got a little more romantic/cheesy than I normally do! Also good luck resisting Jimin, who can literally manipulate emotions. P.S. The Southern Realm is inspired by Southern Spain (think Granada), and the Greek Isles (on my bucket list).  

There will definitely be part 6….eventually. I should really focus on gainful employment (sigh….the negative sides of capitalism).  Let’s hope the “Keep Reading cut and everything else works.  Send me feedback, comments, theories, whatever! I’m grateful for your patient support <3

Yoongi’s arms are secure around you, and his shoulders block out some of the blinding light. You struggle away from his grasp, awaiting the inevitable post-teleportation nausea. But either he was gentler this time, or your body is busy trying to stem the internal bleeding, because it never comes.

Instead of nausea, you were overwhelmed by the brightness around you. After the indeterminate (and seemingly interminable) time you spent in the Western Realms, the Southern realm was positively blinding in its beauty. Around you are blue-domed buildings, contrasted against pristine white walls. Though you have never seen the ocean, you had heard of its existence and can only presume that the glittering expanse you see between the gaps in the buildings must be it. The air smells salty, somehow, and if it weren’t for the pounding in your ribs you might have wondered more at the rhythmic sound of water, which you could only assume were waves.

But the pain forces you to narrow your focus to your more immediate surroundings. You are in some kind of terraced garden. There are fountains filled with tranquil, reflective water,  and palm trees swaying in a phantom breeze. The flowers are leafier and more exotic than you could have ever dreamed. A demon of shadows, Yoongi looks tired around the edges of his eyes, but otherwise is as imposing as ever.

Your presence does not go unnoticed, and a young looking boy stands from the chaise lounge where he had been idling. There are others there, but they are seemingly at his disposal, deferring to his every move. Based on this fact alone, you know he is someone important. When he gets up, there is something unmistakeably predatory in his smooth gait, something almost sexual, and you realize that you have just met your next demon prince-Jimin?You try to think back to the endless lessons with Hobi, but all your mind can handle at the moment is the sinister spreading warmth in your rib, Yoongi at your side, and the newcomer in front of you.

As he nears, you realize that his clothes are just as excessive as his garden. His shirt is almost sheer, spun from the finest threads you have ever seen, and his linen pants are immaculate. Combined with his bare feet and the thinnest of gold circlets peeking through his dark locks, the effect is something akin to the angels that had graced the large cathedrals you had been lucky to visit with your father.  But you knew from the same, sometimes gruesome, religious art, that angels were more than ethereal beauty and puffy feathers. They were heavenly warriors who could dispense eternal damnation or salvation with only minor inconvenience to themselves.

Jimin turned, eyes glittering. As you suspected, something lethal lingered behind his clear eyes. While you knew that logically you should be cautious, particularly after the reception you had received from Taehyung and Jungkook, all you could feel was warm waves of happiness as you stared into his gaze. Yoongi cleared his throat uncomfortably, but you simply couldn’t tear your eyes from Jimin’s. He moved closer.

Without much warning, he leaned over and placed his hands gently on your ribs. Yoongi’s hands were usually cold, the few times you had touched, but Jimin ran warmer. Still cool, but the faint lingering warmth of the first sunny day after a long and dreary winter. The longer his hands lingered, the more peaceful you felt.

If the garden hadn’t been so quiet, you would have likely missed Yoongi’s sharp intake of breath.

“I’m right here, Jimin. Could you tone it down?” He said, voice tinged with an aggressive edge that you’d heard only rarely.

“Prince Yoongi,” Jimin practically purrs, “do forgive me. It has been positively ages since I’ve encountered a human, let alone healed one- I’d rather be safe than sorry. Particularly with such a pretty patient.” He winked at you and you felt your cheeks warm.

Yoongi humphed, but Jimin ignored him, eyes studiously trained on your ribcage. Under normal circumstances, you would have likely been irritated by both his presumption and the fact that they were talking as though you weren’t even there. But as Jimin continued his ministrations, you felt yourself drift into a deep, peacefully silent sleep. Luckily, Yoongi was there to catch you as you fell.

You awoke to a solid presence at your back. Momentary panic set in, until you hear a familiar raspy voice. Goosebumps raise on your skin, though not entirely from chill.

“Just me, warmheart.”

You roll over slowly, careful not to damage your injured rib. Yoongi is there, eyes dark, but hair smooth. Calm, then, but watchful. You blush, despite months of cohabitation. Old habits die hard, as the saying goes. You think back to your conservative father, and then banish him as quickly as he came.

Yoongi smirks, and gently squeezes your hip in jest. It felt so natural that you hadn’t even noticed that it was there. As though he can read your mind, his voices your embarrassment.

“That’s what bothers you, warmheart? Someone fierce enough to take on the Western demons, and withstand Jimin’s empathy is embarrassed by sharing a bed with your fiancé?”

You smack him lightly. “Don’t say it like that!”

His grin widens. Sometimes, in these quiet moments, you’re in awe of the beautiful boy that resides in the centuries-old demon. You’re not sure if its luck or fate, but you thank whatever forces brought Yoongi into your life.

Yoongi’s face becomes serious. “I missed you, while you were gone. I waited centuries for you, yet only a few days apart was making me crazy.” Now it is his turn to blush, and suddenly you see the appeal of the blushy tropes from your (not-so) secret stash of courtly novels. You are brought back to the present by the grim thought of Yoongi’s displeasure, should he ever find out that you made such a comparison. You know that he would never hurt you, but certain tomes might go missing from the library. A fate truly worse than death.

His gaze can’t meet yours, but his arms have snaked around your back, pulling you closer. “Please don’t waiver in your feelings. I know Jimin is….tempting, but what we have is real.”

“You think me so weak-willed?” You can’t decide whether to be flattered or offended.

You raise your eyebrows but allow him to continue.  

“Jimin is an empath-a particularly rare and ancient kind of demon.” You say nothing, unfamiliar with the term, so Yoongi continues. “He has what humans would call charisma, but amplified. Not only can he read someone and understand their feelings, he can actually manipulate them, change them to suit his wishes.”

Your eyes widen slightly, though you’re still lethargic.  You wonder if you are witnessing Yoongi jealous for the first time in your blossoming relationship. Instead you ask simply,

“And how is that related to healing?”

“So much of pain is actually mental. In your case, your rib was damaged, but also hurting you was your perception of the pain. You’d have to ask him more-he’s explained it to me, but I never had the patience to understand his lectures. In any case, the mental and the physical are closely linked- he expended more power than was strictly necessary healing you, and I’m not sure what side effects there may be.”

You’re not sure what is making Yoongi so insecure, so you opt to act more boldly than you normally would. You snuggle closer, flush against his front. Your head tucks perfectly under his chin, and your nose rests close to his collarbone. His arms tighten around you and he stills, seemingly finally peaceful. He smells absolutely amazing- earthy but clean. A strange new hunger fills you, but you push it back. Under your ear, you can hear his heartbeat.

Lightening the mood, you crack a joke. “And humans think demons don’t have hearts.”

He scoffs at that, a welcome sound. “Yeah, now if only mine would quit running off and getting into trouble.” You’re grateful once again for the darkness, lest he see how red your face and ears are at the moment. Who knew that he was such an insufferable flirt?

Not trusting your voice you lapse back into silence. Yoongi’s breathing is even and calming. Ever since Jimin’s ministrations the pain in your side has subsided considerably. You can still feel it if you stretch or lean into it, but otherwise it’s hard to believe that Jungkook punched you only this morning. It feels like a million years ago. You ponder the passage of time as you slowly but surely drift off to sleep, tucked up against Yoongi. It feels right,and you have no dreams.

You awake with a start, the moon blindingly bright outside of your window. Really, here, there seems to be very little distinction between outside and inside, and there is no glass separating you from the enticing night-time view. Suddenly restless, you get up, sure not to disturb Yoongi, who is sleeping like the dead, the silent rise and fall of his chest the only thing letting you know that he still lives. You don’t know if he is exhausted from the day or if he is alway like this-it occurs to you that this is the first time you have ever seen him sleeping. In the human world, the two of you had stayed awake at night, getting to know each other. In his house, you had your own wing, though you spent your days together. It’s strange to you how short a period the two of you have known each other, but what scares you more is how quickly his life has become inextricably tied to your own. Realizing that these thoughts won’t allow you any more sleep, you venture into the garden.

The water babbles softly, like something out of a fairytale, but otherwise the terrace is still and silent. The activity of the servants has subsided, as any sane person is asleep. The moon is shining bright enough to illuminate at least a basic outline of most of the garden, and you contemplate whether this can possibly be the same moon from back home. Through the gap in the nearby buildings, you can see the ocean in the distance. You had noticed it earlier, but had been more concerned about your loss of blood. You stare at the diamonds the moon paints in the ripples of the water as it laps the shore somewhere out of sight. It is hypnotizing, and you have no idea how long you’d been staring before you noticed Jimin at your side.

In the darkness, he is little more than a wispy outline, despite the moon. You chalk it up to his flowy apparel, the same thing he was wearing this morning. Seemingly, wrinkles are not something that afflict Prince Jimin. Likely, they are not even a word in his vocabulary,you think wryly to yourself.  His eyes slide over to you, and you stop yourself from staring at his immaculate profile.

“What amuses you, little human?” His voice is like a whisper of the softest silk. Despite Yoongi’s early warning about manipulation, you can’t find it in yourself to be scared of this gentle soul.

“Just wondering how you keep your clothes so neat” you say, smile curving the edges of your mouth upward. His gaze lingers there.

“Suddenly, I understand my brethren’s fascination with humans,” he chuckles, gaze never leaving your own. “Pray tell, is this something you concern yourself with every new person you meet? Have I violated some unspoken human etiquette?”

You blush slightly, and he chuckles again. It is melodic-really, there is no other word for it. “Not at all. It just seems unlikely to end the day in the same state that you started it in.”

He smiles again, eyes crinkling into crescent moons. For the briefest of moments, your heart patters erratically, before resuming its original beat.

“What an entirely human viewpoint. Your lives are short-the blink of an eye, a sunrise and sunset, a turn around the sun. We live forever and are unchanging. We exist, as though in suspended animation: change so slow, we barely notice as we turn to stone.”

He’s clearly speaking in a riddle, and before you can guess as to which famed scholar he might be citing, he continues.

“Which is why, little human, I would like to try something-to assuage my endless boredom.” You wait, wondering what ridiculous test he might have in mind, thinking back to your time with Tae and Kookie -not that you would call him that to his face.

He moves closer, placing his warm palms on either side of your face. His gaze meets your own, and you blush again. You don’t look away, but nor do you move. You expect heart palpitations, nerves, a nervous stutter-all things you’ve experienced at one point or another with Yoongi, but you feel: nothing.

Prince Jimin’s gaze grows more fierce, his hands heavier on your cheeks, and you continue to wait.

“How entirely interesting, and infuriating.”

Suddenly, he is gone, and you are standing in the garden, even more perplexed than when  you’d been listening to his earlier imagery. You turn, eager to return to sleepy Yoongi’s comforting embrace-something sane in the insanity that is the demon world.

But he is already there, across the terrace, eyes alert and glittering.

“What are you doing awake?” You ask, and you hear the guilt in your words as you speak them.

“I could ask you the same,” he says, voice low and menacing. “Did I NOT just finish warning you about what he could do? And here you are……subjecting yourself to it like some kind of perverse experiment?” His words are biting.

“Yoongi, why are you so angry? Literally nothing happened. I woke up because I couldn’t sleep, and he appeared a while later,” you say soothingly, trying to placate him.

“Well, maybe he can’t hurt you, but you can certainly hurt me,” he said, sounding exhausted once again. “Do you know how scared I was when I woke up again and you were gone, after being severely injured earlier today? And then I come out here and find you two staring each other down, his hands on your face?” He runs his hands over his face, before promptly turning and stalking off.

You stand there, stunned, and then it hits you….. Was Yoongi jealous?

[howdoyouspellepiphany]

The Prophecy

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Park jimin (DemonAU)

Words: 5653 words

Summary: Long ago, the Divines and Fallens received a prophecy that promises their demise in the hands of a mortal that says:

Beautiful as the creature may be, fire doesn’t burn, ice doesn’t freeze, water doesn’t drown and lightning doesn’t destroy.

Now, the demon prince (Min Yoongi) meets a pink-haired waiter (Park Jimin) who looks like heaven and smells like sin. As their relationship blossom, the Divines and Fallens are beginning to wonder about the prophecy.

Warnings: Crude language, ignorant author

Note: I kind of know how Tumblr works now. Yay

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 5

Chapter 4

Min Yoongi is known to be a heavy sleeper who once slept for 2 days straight without an ounce of remorse. He remembers the good times when he wakes to burnt candles and the smell of spider lilies. It took him a while to realise that his room has been transformed into a shrine to respect his ‘departed’ soul. His father had his mother come to Infernum to see him for ‘the last time’. Yoo Jung was seen wailing when she hears about her son from her husband. That year, autumn came faster than any other years as Demeter tried to calm her daughter down. But the thought of losing her son hurts.

 When he wakes, he wakes to his mother hugging him and was engulfed in a bone-crushing hug from his little brother and Namjoon. He got a beating from Jin and Hoseok refused to talk to him for days. Yoongi did receive an earful from his parents and was – what happened afterwards? His memory doesn’t serve him any justice as the memory appears to be fragmented and lost. But it is expected since he did lose a big chunk of his childhood; only retaining a few important ones.

When Yoongi was forced to act as regent, even the slightest noise wakes him up. Nothing gives him peace anymore and whenever Namjoon or any other council members try to start a conversation with him, it’s never about music or the sky. It’s always about work and more work. And eventually, sleep doesn’t seem as important like it once used to. Not when all the creatures living on Earth that are registered under Vescor is under his protection and not when he has a kingdom to run. Sure, if he wants to, he can use aggression and violence to get things done but that’s not what Hades had taught him. The king of Infernum had taught him to be fair and that’s exactly what he will become; fair.

In the dead of the night, Namjoon stumbles in the room through a small door connecting the hall and their shared chamber in his demon form. The said man desperately tries to be as quiet as he could despite knocking everything over. His advisor’s efforts were fruitless but it’s the thought that counts even though it’s rather painful how hard Namjoon is trying. All Yoongi is hoping now is that his pink-haired advisor doesnt leave a trail of blood on the way to their shared room. 

 Nevertheless, Namjoon in his demon form is relatively scary. He doubles his normal height and has grown claws for nails. Demon Namjoon has heterochromia – red on his left and light blue on his right with big horns on his head and two snakes as a tail. His father was the previous Asmodeus before he steps down with Ken as his successor while his mother was a Wendigo; the most powerful kind to have ever existed. Namjoon is the son of the sun and the moon and he is already very resourceful even before he took the position as Yoongi’s advisor. His once brute Namjoon now whispers curses every time he stubs his toe near a furniture and when he trips over his own leg in fear of waking Yoongi up.

Little did he know, the prince is already up the moment he steps in the front door.

When Namjoon stops near his bed, simultaneously dropping a few Ryan dolls on the floor, the demon pants as he tries to regain his human form. Yoongi quietly listens to Namjoon’s pained grunts and laboured breathing as the latter’s bones snap and crack to signal the start of the bone remodelling and the retraction of his demonic features.

It hurt.

It always hurt. How can it not? Their bones are remodelled while their extra organs/limbs are forced to retract back into the ‘slumber’ body. As for Namjoon’s case, his heterochromatic eyes and horns need to be kept too. ‘Jin-hyung would know what to do to lessen his pain,’ Yoongi thought. ‘Jin-hyung will always know what to do. They are bonded, after all.’

After a few excruciating minutes of hearing Namjoon’s grunts and pants, his advisor slumps over the bed while his two snakes slither across the bed, hissing noisily. The prince grumbles as he gets out of bed. It is futile to try and go back to sleep when his mind is at its loudest. When Yoongi approaches the two snakes, they had lowered their head and with a silent command from Yoongi, they retract into Namjoon’s body. Poor boy must have lost all his energy. Although it almost never happened to Namjoon, gathering the information must have been more tiring and energy-draining than Yoongi had originally thought. 

The mint-haired prince grabs a Ryan-themed blanket and puts it over his advisor’s body as he glances over to Jeongguk’s empty bed. It has been untouched for days and his bed still has the same, white and unwrinkled sheets. He had to resist the urge to lay on it or touch it just to spite his little brother but decided against it. Rather than fight Guk, he’d rather spend it on finding the little bastard who is trying to steal his kingdom from him.

Min Yoongi walks out of the room and makes his way towards the balcony, not forgetting to grab a box of cigarettes on the coffee table. He glances at the brown piano and decided to just sit outside. His slim fingers grab one stick and puts it between his lips. He lights it up with his forefinger as he stares at the bright lights decorating the tall buildings before him. He sucks in all the nicotine as much as he can before exhaling a puff of grey smoke. Seoul, even his sight is restricted behind the grey smoke, still resembles a lighted up Christmas tree. It is impossible for him to be at a place in the city where light doesn’t hit for it has always been so bright and festive in the heart of Seoul.

Seoul, in his eyes is bright.

But bright lights cast the biggest shadow. People can only see the superficial parts and fail to see the deep parts.

He finishes the cigarette with 2 more takes and he had extracted his wings. His grand, magnificent, black wings have made its appearance (smaller due to space constraint but the beauty of his wings can never be compromised.) and tore his pale skin and the black shirt he wore to bed in the process. Specks of blood splatters everywhere within the proximity, decorating his mother’s mini garden with tiny droplets of red. He stands on the railing as he takes in a deep breath of the early morning air.

He jumped off and with his fully extended wings, he had soared off to the dark skies where the stars decorate across the sky and the moon is hung high up in the sky. It is times like these that he enjoys most. The serendipity he feels and the ephemeral feeling of being free. Free while he is in the sky for when he steps back down, the shackles are back on his limbs, tying him down to Vescor and Infernum while his responsibilities hit him like violent waves.

If his father were here, would he have let the massacre happen? What could he have done to prevent it? The thoughts cloud his mind and once again, his eyes change colours and black takes over.

When he looks down from above, he has a very mean look on his face. One that Hades wears all the time and it’s the look of disgust and disdain. Yoongi puts all his wrath in one flock of his wings and he is almost sure that the wind will eventually turn into a tornado or cause a tsunami somewhere.

Seoul, in his eyes is black.

Seoul resembles both Paradisus and Infernum for the most part.

They are both dark and light

They are grey.

He is grey – devoid of colour, and is just a shade between the bleaching white and swallowing black.

             Before Yoongi flew back, he had stayed to watch the sunrise. Memories of Hoseok and Mejiwoo, the angel’s elder sister being created flashes through his mind. No sunrise can ever be compared to that morning Hoseok and Mejiwoo is born.

Beautiful.

They both of them are beautiful and golden.

They’re different from the grey lead Yoongi is known for.

When the prince flew back, the balcony is wiped clean of his blood and the door is left open to allow air to come in. He retracts his wings the moment he stumbles into the room as the smell of food floods his senses. He, just like any other demons don’t need food to nourish them but it doesn’t mean that they don’t enjoy it.

Yoongi pulls the torn shirt over his body as he walks confidently towards the kitchen where an expected Jin-hyung is cooking with a pastel yellow with little blue clouds apron as the male hums to a melody Yoongi easily recognizes. It was a song he used to play on the piano to show off to his friends. After… A tragedy? Yoongi doesn’t know. As far as he knew, he hasn’t played it in a long time probably due to his duties as regent but it feels like there is something else underlying it. Something must have happened that made him stop playing the piano since he couldn’t bring himself to even touch the brown, old piano his mother still keeps around just in case he changes his mind.

He walks straight to the kitchen where a cup of freshly roasted coffee is set on the table next to a bowl of rice cooked with black and red beans while Jin transfers the fried chicken to a more presentable plate after draining the excessive oil. Yoongi scans the table as he hums in approval. Jin had made a traditional Korean breakfast with the side dishes ready and he has already begun salivating. There are some tofu cooked in soy sauce and egg omelette.

“You’re making a lot. Are you expecting guests?” Jin scoffs at the playful jest as the prince sips on his coffee. It is black, sugarless and hot – just the way he likes it.

“They’re not for you.” Jin places the fried chicken on the table as he cleans his hands with some soap and dries them on his apron. Yoongi smiles a little when the table is clearly set for two since Namjoon and probably Jeongguk (whom Yoongi assumes is back due to the amount of fried chicken Jin had made) wakes up fairly late.

Jin grabs his chopsticks after Yoongi had shove a fried chicken into his mouth. Even if Jin speaks freely to Yoongi, it has never been forgotten that Yoongi is still the prince of Infernum and the son of Aphrodite respects his younger friend a lot for it. And he tends it to show it in subtle actions. “Yoongi-ah, Ken had told me that Suran-noona called yesterday, asking for you.” Yoongi grunts and shoves another mouthful of rice and chicken into his mouth. “It’s about Vescor.” Yoongi looks up from his food before resuming eating. Jin pauses for a while, as if getting a telepathic message from the prince.

‘Talk about it after breakfast.’

“Anyway, I think it’s high time you get a phone.” Jin said, mimicking Yoongi’s eating style.

“Then get me one.”

“I will. But you need to come get it at Aphrodite before nightfall.”

“Yeah, ok.” Yoongi mumbles as he asks for seconds.

“No.” Yoongi stresses, glaring at Hoseok from behind the transparent shower curtains. After breakfast, Jin left without telling him what Suran wants and Yoongi just let it be. They will be meeting soon, anyway. It shouldn’t matter if Jin had forgotten or not.

Hoseok came a few minutes after with a joyful smile and shining eyes. Apparently, the angel told Yoongi that he’ll be closing his dance studio, Gabriel for some time to help out at Yoo Jung’s floristry, ‘Bunga’.

“Hyung,” The angel whines as the demon prince growls in the shower. The angel leans against the blue and white tiles of the bathroom as supports a pout. The demon prince scowls in response as he takes a sum of shampoo and wash his mint-green hair thoroughly. He makes sure to wash his hair properly and condition it before going out. Frizzy, dried up hair is the last thing he needs during his stay on Earth. “I swear I have a good excuse.”

“What could even be a good excuse, Seokkie? You’re closing Jibril-“

“Gabriel.” Hoseok frowns.

“Same difference. They’re both your mentor’s name.”

“True, but my dance studio is ‘Gabriel’. So, say it correctly.” Yoongi sticks his head under the shower and washes his shampoo-ed hair.

“As I was saying, you closing down-”

“On a short hiatus.” Hoseok corrected once again and in turn, the irritated demon takes in a deep, sharp breath.

“Can you stop interrupting me for once, Seokkie? For fuck’s sake.” Yoongi glares at the angel who still supports the joyful smile and shining eyes. Hoseok knows that Yoongi means nothing behind his insults and welcome them with open arms.

“I need to make it clear so that you don’t get the wrong idea. I need a short break from dance, hyung.” Hoseok said, pushing himself off the humid wall as Yoongi applies conditioner to his hair. The angel takes the articles of his clothes off and joins the demon prince in the shower. “Hyung,” Hoseok said in a soft voice – the voice he uses to persuade Yoongi. “Please believe in me when I tell you that. I have been thinking about it for a while. I swear I’m not lying.” Hoseok whispers against the expanse of his skin as the latter trail kisses all over the demon prince’s back. Yoongi sighs when Hoseok wraps his arms around Yoongi’s waist.

“Dancing is your dream, Seokkie.” Yoongi whispers, staring at the steam radiating from the hot shower as he reaches over to press some body wash on his palm when Hoseok beats him to it.

“Yes, but Yoongi-hyung, helping you is a second nature to me.” Hoseok never ceases his kisses even when he lathers Yoongi’s pale, cold skin with firewood and mist scented soap. Yoongi stays quiet afterwards. What the angel said hold truths to it and the golden colour hovering Hoseok’s honey skin proves it. Hoseok is the first man and species different from Yoongi’s own that he had slept with and Yoongi still remembers the state of euphoria he felt during the night with Hoseok. He remembers the younger’s gentle touches and hushed wishes – all which he succumbs to.

But it was just one night and it made Hoseok unable to fly despite having wings of his own. His halo dimmed significantly after that night and the two of them refrained from any sexual intercourse mainly on Yoongi’s side in order to preserve Hoseok’s status as an angel. He would be damned if he ever let the younger angel fall.

He already let one get so sick, she may never be able to recover and continue her remaining life as an angel.

“Hyung,” Hoseok whispers from behind him, fingers now massaging Yoongi’s tensed back. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.” Yoongi lies behind his teeth as he continues his shower. “I’ll let you do whatever you want.” The prince says after a while of silence.

“You’ll let me work at ‘Bunga’?”

“If that’s what you really want to do.” Hoseok gives him the biggest smile he has ever seen as he hops out of the shower and grabs his clothes on the floor.

“Yes!” The angel cheers as he simply takes Yoongi’s towel and runs out the bathroom without closing the door.

“At least close the fucking door.” Yoongi grumbles.

“Oh by the way,” Hoseok sticks his head at the ajar door. “As proof that I will never regret working at ‘Bunga’ is that I overheard Jackson Wang’s trainees from Tantara Records that the ‘New Ruler of Infernum’ is going to overthrow you.” When Yoongi’s eyes darken as he stops the water flow, Hoseok raises his hands in defence. “It’s their words, not mine.”

“Overthrow me?” Yoongi chuckles darkly. “Me? What a joke.” With all the heat radiating from Yoongi’s body, the water droplets quickly turn to steam and evaporated into the thin air. “Little bastard couldn’t even enter the castle without my permission.” The castle is located in the heart of Infernum in the main, capital city, Gehenna. It is designed to pulverize anyone who doesn’t carry Hades’s blood in their veins if they ever try to leave or enter without their consent.

And his guards are trained to be loyal to the crown – all so ready to please and kill for the crown. His top general is Lucifer and followed by other 4 demons named Beelzebub, Belphegor Leviathan and Mammon. They are all trained by Hades to specifically protect the royal family and the peace of Infernum. They will never betray him.

Yoongi tells himself just that every time he finds himself alone but it gets harder to convince himself. What the prince got in return isn’t relief but strange anxiety. None of his guards back home in Infernum had contacted him and they are supposed to report to Namjoon or him every subsequent day. But no updates were given. The Styx Goddess hasn’t updated anything either but it must because that she was crowned to be regent after his absence.

He just hopes that the Goddess of Styx would try to make lessen the complications of any given matters that were given in his absence.

To come back and see the whole Infernum on fire (due to her lover, Acheron) is the last thing he wants.

By the time he got dressed, Jeongguk woke up with a pout, asking where he’s going. He’s very confident that his little brother is only acting upon reflex and that he is not even half awake yet as the younger demon struggles to keep his eyes open only to fall back to bed. Yoongi cracks a small smile and pulls the blanket over Jeongguk’s torso before making his way to the balcony.

“Are you leaving?” Hoseok says with mouth-full of rice and fried chicken as he stumbles from the kitchen.

“Only for a little while, yes. Things are strange back in Infernum. They aren’t reporting anything to me.”

“You mean, Lucifer.” Hoseok swallows as he says the fallen angel’s name in distaste. Hoseok wasn’t born yet when the whole Adam-Eve-forbidden apple fiasco and neither have Yoongi. While the angel has his own views on the fallen angel, Yoongi does too. Hoseok doesn’t understand why Lucifer couldn’t have just listened to orders even if he doesn’t want to do it. Following orders are simple. You don’t have to feel it. You just do it. It baffles the angel greatly. It’s better to just go along with things without questioning it rather than having their wings ripped off of their backs. Yoongi, on the other hand, understands where the jealousy is coming from for he would have been jealous too if his parents have another child and decided to love the child more than him. It’s the same with Lucifer. His maker practically gave him a big ‘fuck you’ and chose the human who is made out of clay. Since when did dirty-ass clay become better than fire?

“Seokkie,” Yoongi pauses as he sticks his tongue against his cheek in mild exasperation. “Not today.”

Hoseok can only sigh in response. Yoongi has never been one to actually share his business about his generals with him. Even if they are close, Yoongi can never fully trust the angel for Hoseok’s loyalty belongs to Zeus and the likes. Yoongi isnt one to hold a conversation regarding Infernum affairs with anyone other than Namjoon and Jeongguk. It isn’t anything deep it’s just how it’s always been. “Alright, sorry.” Hoseok mumbles as he swallows the food he has been munching. “I’ll be in ‘Bunga’ if you need me.”

Yoongi watches the angel retreat to the kitchen with a bowl in his hand and sighs. Hoseok is upset and truthfully, Yoongi couldn’t bring himself to care. Not now, not today.

He stands on the railings, jump off the building and allows his wings to be extracted from his skin with a sickening crack. Yoongi no longer grimaces at the sound or the pain it seems to bring whenever he summoned them when he was younger. Now, he only feels a numbing and tingly sensation. He flies up into the sky and towards a crevice in a dark area where sunlight doesn’t hit Seoul. He soars and glides with the wind and once he found a dark crevice, he speaks in an ancient language – one that Charon, the ferryman understands so that he could open the entrance for the prince.

When Yoongi returns to his palace in central Gehenna, the capital city of Infernum, Styx and her lover, Acheron is found waiting for him in the gardens on the palace. Styx had filled him in the information he wanted during his absence and she admitted that she hasn’t been able to update him on anything due to Lucifer’s disappearance.

“It’s bad, Your Highness. The Sluaghs are all over the place now that Lucifer isn’t around to keep an eye on them.” Styx says, rushing towards Yoongi as soon as the man steps in the premises of the palace. Styx is a woman who is made of water with long, flowy hair. She is the guardian and the Goddess of Styx River, the main of the 5 rivers surrounding Infernum. Her lover, Acheron, is the guardian of the fiery river in Infernum, the Acheron River. The man doesn’t speak much and when he does, he only tends to only speak to his lover. The man of big build next to Styx has red hair and red eyes. “Lethe, Coccytus and Phlegethon have been trying to curb the Sluaghs along with Leviathan. But for some reason, my prince,” Styx says, warily looking around. “The Sluaghs said something about the ‘New Ruler of Infernum’.”

‘Fuck’ Yoongi closes his eyes in annoyance. ‘Lucifer is gone? Where the fuck did her go?’ His patience is really wearing thin. One: Is the cause of his anxiety was proven to be right? Two: If he ever hears another one calling the bastard the ‘New Ruler of Infernum’, his hands will really be their new choker. “What did they say, Styx-noona?” Yoongi’s voice wavers as he tries to remain calm. It is much too dangerous for him to lose control in the public eye.

“I think matters such as these are best discussed in the protection of the castle walls.” Styx said, touching her lover’s hand, burning herself in the process. Acheron quickly steps away but Styx doesn’t let his hand go. Yoongi has never understood the love Styx and Acheron shares. They can’t even touch each other without hurting each other and they couldn’t continue their day without touching each other. Yoongi watches the steam arising from where their hands meet and couldn’t bring himself to say anything. Acheron once burnt Styx alive at the beginning of time for he was a raging fire that couldn’t be controlled. The man weeped for years until Hades decided to bring Styx back in the form of water to him. Acheron sees it as a chance that was given to him to live happily with his love and pledged loyalty to the crown for as long as he shall live if it meant he could live with Styx. Bu that’s not all that he did. The man actually changed. From the rambunctious, unforgiving and wild fire turned tame just for a fragile lover.

Yoongi didn’t understand why Styx chose to stay then and he doesn’t understand why she chose to stay now.

The three of them walk to the throne room in no haste when the pair of lovers are forced to part when Lethe came, panting, asking Acheron to join in the fight upon Leviathan’s orders before greeting the prince. When Acheron left, Styx opens the door to the throne room and Yoongi strides up to his throne. It has only been 2 days in the human world and he’s already missing his throne and the black, pointy crown that sits comfortably on his mint hair. “My prince, a few minutes after Namjoon left for Earth, a peculiar man came to my river.” This immediately catches Yoongi’s attention. Only gods and goddesses who are ready to make a pledge will descend to Infernum to see the Styx Goddess where a mark of their word will be tattooed on their skin.

Namjoon and Jin had made their vow in front of Styx and their vow of ‘Semper Fidelis’ are tattooed around their neck like a chain – a leash.

“He was wearing a black cloak, one that covers his hair but a few strands of green hair is visible. His pale is fair, so fair it resembles yours, Your Highness. He’s different. The hate that he radiates isn’t like anything I have ever tasted before. The hate – it radiates throughout his body, sire.”

Yoongi watches the water-woman as she tries to describe how it tasted like. Styx River feeds on hatred and loathing. ‘The stronger the feeling, the better the taste’ Yoongi recalls Styx once told him before. And for her to describe it as an exquisite taste doesn’t make him happy at all.

“And when he makes the oath with me, he left.”

“What vow did he make?” Yoongi asks even though he knows Styx will never tell him.

“Your majesty, you know I am very tight-lipped about oaths and vows.”

“Even if it means doing me a great favour?” Yoongi asks and Styx stares at him.

“Are you implying that the green-haired boy is the rumoured man?”

“I don’t know, noona. Nobody does.” Yoongi is tired. He just wants to find this boy and burn him alive. He just wants a cup of coffee and some peaceful time in his kingdom and on Earth. But that is a luxury he doesn’t seem to be able to afford. Lucifer is missing, the Sluaghs are doing whatever the fuck they please, the mysterious kelp on Earth, the slaughter of the People of Poseidon and now a boy with ominous energy. “Namjoon, Wang and his pups are all over the place trying to gather intel for me.” Yoongi grumbles as he stands from his throne.

“Anyway, while Luci is gone, have Mammon take charge. I want those Sluaghs in the dungeons.” Having Mammon, the demon known for avarice in charge is never a good idea in Yoongi’s point of view for Mammon is greedy and sadistic. He takes and takes but never gives and most importantly, he goes against Yoongi’s principles of being fair. But Mammon will have to do for now just until Lucifer gets back. He couldn’t possibly have Leviathan for she has too much on her plate right now and Belphegor is known for his laziness and lastly, Beelzebub is known for his gluttonous life. Yoongi would be damned if Beelzebub resorts to eating those Sluaghs who refuses to listen to him.

“Will do, sire.” Styx bows at Yoongi as he walks down the stairs.

“I need you to be extremely tight-lipped regarding this matter. I will leave Infernum in your hands for the time being and I expect it to be in good conditions. I need you to update me whenever you can. You no longer need Lucifer to transmit any message to me.” Styx nods in understanding. “One more thing, noona…” Yoongi trails off as he takes off the black, pointing crown from his mint hair as he runs his hair through it. “How’s… Y’know, Hoseok’s sister?” Yoongi asks despite knowing what Styx will reply judging from her eyes.

The guardian of Styx River has averted her eyes from meeting her prince’s bluish-grey ones. “She’s still the same.” The prince purses his lips. “I will still send the purple hyacinths to her despite you being on Earth.” Yoongi gives her a small smile and nods slowly. The prince hopes that if the other half of the golden sibling will accept the flowers and listen them if she refuses to listen to him.

“I have another favour to ask from you, noona.” Styx smiles and tilts her head to the left. “Can you have Charon change some Danakes to Korean Won?”

“May I inquire for what purpose?” The beautiful woman asks as she tucks one finger under her chin. She finds the favour rather peculiar because while her prince is known for many things, Min Yoongi isnt a lavish person.

“I need to buy some rubies for Jin-hyung.”

‘Ah, so that’s what it is.’ The water-woman thought as she pats Yoongi on the shoulder in response. “Did you put my sweet Jin on a dry spell again?”

“No, I didn’t.” Yoongi gives his noona a pointed look as the said man rubs the back of his neck and in response, the guardian guffaws.

“Whatever you say, Yoongi-ah. I’ll have them delivered to you and do ask Suran to accompany you when you buy them so you don’t get some ugly-ass ones.”

“Rude.” The prince mumbles as the prince makes his way out of the castle and Styx trailing close behind him. She had struggled to match his pace but the prince is way too fast for her liking. When the prince stops in his garden and extricate his wings to their full expanse, Styx abruptly stops. She doesn’t want to be in those wings’ proximity when they’re out. One flap and she might evaporate into thin air. “Take care, noona. Both yourself and my kingdom.” Yoongi said and the water-woman bows with her right hand over her left chest.

“Your wish is my command, my prince.” The prince finds himself smiling and with one powerful stroke, he ascends up to the sky. He opens a portal with one destination in mind – Jin’s pride, Aphrodite.

The prince had a ‘marvellous’ time at Aphrodite as the Divine hands him his phone and a few quick tips on how to use it properly. With a little ‘I don’t need that’ from Yoongi and a ‘You’ll never know when you do.’ As a response, Yoongi walks out with a jailbreak-ed phone and a game that allows you to fight other players with a sausage. And then with a smile, he makes his towards his happy place – The Promise Café.

“Here you go.” Jimin smiles as he places a tall glass of vanilla milkshake in front of Yoongi. The prince is still on his little quest on finding the right flavour that resembles the chubby-cheeked waiter and that explains the vanilla milkshake. When he reaches out to take the glass, he realises that the pink-haired boy had added something extra at the side and before Yoongi could even ask about it, Jimin had already gone to greet a new customer. Yoongi couldn’t help but muster a little smile. ‘How nice.’

While Yoongi is lounging on his chair, (from his point of view), he saw a man – more specifically, V – who was watching the caf�� in a distance. The Muse is wearing a brown hoodie and a washed-out blue jeans that are ripped at certain places. He no longer has that confident air around him or a frivolous outfit on. It feels like Yoongi is watching another man and the one before his eyes under the over-sized brown hoodie isnt V. The man had the hood on to cover his long, wavy brown hair as V’s chest pants heavily. Yoongi watches carely and a dark blue (one that’s much darker than his eyes) aura hovering above the Muse’s much too pale skin. If memory served him right, V has a rich, honey skin yesterday so what’s with the pale complexion today? V’s lips are trembling and chapped. When the Muse raises his arm to wipe his mouth, Yoongi notices a streak of red on the sleeve of his hoodie. After a while, V’s mouth moves and left. To Yoongi’s dismay, he couldn’t figure out the latter had said as the wind carries the Muse’s words away.

The prince’s eyes make their way to Jimin’s face now where the pink-haired boy is seen taking the orders of a regular. It was humiliatingly easy for Yoongi to remember the faces of Promise café’s regulars and new comers. When Yoongi takes the first sip of the vanilla milkshake, he instantly regretted his choices. It was so plain and milky and it tastes like eggs. Why the hell did he even think it was remotely close to Jimin? When the door chimes, he pays no heed to it as he forces the drink down his oesophagus and eats the extra thing Jimin gave him. The pastries taste good.

The customer at the door takes a seat across his table and Yoongi could feel it. Whatever or whoever the man is, they’re not human. Both of the hooded men have their hoods on but the one who is sitting in front of him made Yoongi raise his chin and furrow his eyebrows. The man has a mask on and the only thing Yoongi can see is the playful, goading pale blue eyes. If the man, much shorter than him with blue eyes doesn’t avert his gaze, Yoongi might have to dig those eyes out to make him learn his lesson but at the end of Yoongi’s thinning patience, the shorter man did.

Yoongi was about to take another bite when Suran gave him a chain of messages that came in like a flood. The prince growls in annoyance as he swipes as he gives the messages a glance before paying for what he ordered. He thanked Jimin and while the pink-haired boy is rushing to give him his balance, Yoongi unconsciously reaches out and ruffles his hair.

“Keep the change.” Yoongi said and Jimin seems startled a little before a furious blush makes its way across his cheeks. He mumbles a thanks and Yoongi watches how his cheeks move when the waiter’s plump lips move. ‘I can’t wait to eat you up.’ Yoongi thought, smiling. “No problem.” When Jimin’s mouth-watering smell reaches his nostrils and are beginning to cloud the prince’s vision, Yoongi suddenly (and awfully) is hyper-aware of his actions as he drops his hand and left.

His hand smells of Jimin now. And while the pink-haired boy has a bashful pink aura hovering his skin, the necklace around Jimin’s neck changes to a similar colour as well.

And for the nth time that week, Yoongi has a hard time cancelling out Jimin’s scent.

Chapter 5

[writingfromkitchenator]

Child

Pure

Part 1: Bigger | Part 2: Cookies | Part 3: Run | Part 4: Alone | Part 6:  Memories

This felt like the right thing to start of Crowley week.  Now, this one I’ve written a little differently , so I’m really hoping it works out and would love some feedback on it!  Please enjoy!

“I’m not going to tell him, you tell him.”

“Are you daft?  There’s no way I’m going to tell him.  You were buddy-buddy with him for months, you tell him.”

“No way Sam, he’ll kill me.”

“He’s going to kill both of us anyway-”

“You’re better with words Sam, you can explain it.”

“Explain what?  We don’t even know what happened.”

The argument had been going on for a while, especially once the boys realised that they had no idea what to do.

After everything, Crowley had spent a few weeks with you in that hotel room, you being in no hurry to leave until you sorted out your own state, and in no hurry to see anyone else but him.  Crowley hadn’t expected you to want to see Sam and Dean though.

You sighed softly when he raised his concern.  “Dean definitely warrants that concern Crowley, but not Sam, or Cas for that matter, both of them helped, I think I owe it to them to let them know I’m doing okay.”

“So just call them.”  Crowley said. “You don’t have to go and see them and put yourself at risk.”

You smiled at him, folding your arms.  “Crowley, I thought we sorted this out.  I’m yours, remember?  There’s no going back from that.”

This softened his stance, but he still frowned at you.  “Are you going to use that on me whenever I tell you not to do something?”

Your smile widened and stepped forward to kiss him on the cheek.  “Now why would I do that?”

He had simply rolled his eyes at you.

When you returned to the bunker though, things hadn’t been what you’d expected, Dean having vanished after Sam told you what happened with Metatron, where Dean had died.  At first, you thought little of it, glad of a distraction, helping Sam and Castiel try and find information on what had happened to Dean, but then something clicked and you turned back to Crowley.

Crowley paused as soon as you asked, not meeting your eye.  “Why would I know what happened to Squirrel?”

You folded your arms, staring him down.  “By the sounds of it, you’ve been more involved in this than you’ve told me.”

He cursed under his breath before looking at you.  “Love, I don’t want to put more on you.”

“Crowley…”

“Dean is doing fine if it’s any comfort.”  He continued.  “Not that you should be worried about him after what he’s done to you.”

“I’m worried about Sam,” You said.  “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what lengths he’s already gone to find out what’s happened to Dean.”

“Moose needs to learn to let go, move on.”

“What did you do Crowley?”

“Nothing,” He said quickly but he shuffled a little under your gaze.  “I may have not told the boys the entire truth about the mark, that’s all.”

You sighed. “Crowley, what is wrong with Dean?”

“Nothing you need to worry about.”  He comes over and takes your cheeks in his hands, his look pleading.  “I want you-I need you to stay away from Dean.  Things aren’t exactly…well, at the moment.  I’d feel better if you weren’t involved.”

“Uh huh,” You said slowly.  “Just as I’d feel better if I knew the truth.”

Crowley stared at you for a long moment, before finally sighing and kissing you softly. “Fine.  Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He had taken you to some bar, one which you didn’t recognise inside or out.  What you did recognise was the voice singing bad karaoke.

You visibly winced as you saw Dean on stage.  “This is what he’s been doing?”

Crowley sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets.  “More or less.  I had thought that he would take his new state a bit more seriously, but I guess you really can’t get rid of someone’s faults without years of torture first.”

You gave Crowley a confused sidelong glance for a moment before your eyes widened. “Dean’s a demon?”

He nods once.  “Between the blade and the mark, it doesn’t allow its host to simply die.  No doubt some condition from Lucifer when he passed it on.”

“So you’ve just been hiding Dean away?”  You asked.  “Crowley I hardly think-” The air suddenly changed around you and you tensed, your gaze returning to Dean to find him staring directly at you.

Crowley stood slightly in front of you as Dean approached.  “Still having fun destroying the classics I see.”

Dean snorts, looking unamused.  “Like you would know a classic when you heard it.”  His eyes locked back on you.”  Y/N.”

“Dean.” You kept your voice as passive as possible, despite the hairs rising on the back of your neck.  Dean was powerful, there was no doubt about it, but there was something else in his gaze that had you worried.

Dean’s lips pursed as he observed you, before his gaze returned to Crowley.  “I hope you know she’s still fair game.”

Crowley shifted even more in front of you, a growl rising in his voice.  “I don’t think so Squirrel.  She’s mine and you will keep your hands off.”

Dean raises his hands, a smirk touching his lips.  “Like I’d want her after you anyway, but just so you know, she’s only partly yours, I can practically smell it on her.  You missed a step.”

With that, Dean turned away, stalking back to the bar as you glared after him, anger curling in your stomach, wanting to say so many things to Dean’s back, but Crowley wrapped an arm around you, returning you both to the hotel room before anything else could be done.

Crowley let out a slow breath.  “I never thought I’d see the day when I missed human Dean.”

You frowned at Crowley.  “You’ve just been keeping him like this?”

Crowley sighed.  “I was hoping he would be an asset.”

“Dean? You really thought Dean Winchester wouldn’t continue to be a stubborn pain in the arse?”

Crowley pursed his lips, noting the amusement in your gaze.  “It’s not my finest moment, is that what you want me to admit love?”

You shook your head, smirking a little.  “No, I’d never do that to you.”  But your gaze then turns serious.  “But I will say I told you so.”

He sighed. “I knew that was coming.”

“Crowley, we both know the lore.”  You said calmly.  “And Dean just proved that.  You know as well as I do that we can only avoid it so long.”

He looked at you, thinking for a moment.  “Love, I don’t need a blood ritual to tell me that you are mine and I am yours.  There are too many risks involved.”

“What? So you’re not even going to have a proper discussion with me over this?”  You asked. “There’s only so long that you can avoid it.”

“Y/N…it’s complicated, alright?”  Crowley buries his hands in his pockets, looking uncomfortable.  “It could do things, to you, things that I will not stand for.”

“This is about my soul isn’t it?”  You asked bluntly.

“No.”

“Liar.”

“Demon.” Crowley held your gaze, but after a moment broke away, looking uncomfortable.  “I know what your blood would do to me love, I’ve been dealing with this damned addiction long enough, but a human taking on demon blood...apart from being near unheard of, could be exceptionally dangerous.”

“I’m not an ordinary human-“

“Exactly.” He said firmly, his gaze worried. “Which is why I can’t risk you like that love.”

You stared at him, feeling his fear.  “Look at me Crowley.”  His gaze slowly moved to meet yours.  “Now, I get it, I do, you’re worried I’ll go dark side,” He half nods, but seems to think better of it, swallowing hard.  “There is no proof that it’ll work like that, no proof that it’ll have any effect at all.”

“That’s hardly a safe assumption.”  He growled.

“No, but either way, angels aren’t going to like this.”  You continued.  “So I’d rather do this right Crowley, no matter the consequences. I’d rather go through the risk of this than have someone steal me away and do it against my will.”  He opened his mouth.  “You know as well I do that it can be done.”

Crowley sighed.  “You are not going to let this go?”

“No.”

He purses his lips.  “And...and if something happens?”

“We’ll deal with it, like we always have.”  You smiled as he went to say something.  “It mightn’t have been the best way, but we still sorted it out.”

“After almost getting you killed.”

“I’m a tough girl Crowley,” You put your hands on your hips as if to prove the point. “You of all people should know that.”

This got him to smile, although he tried to hide it, still not comfortable.  “Y/N-“

You fold your arms.  “Going to deny it are you?”

“Never.” He said quickly.  “I’ve seen you do more than I ever thought-” Crowley frowned at your grin before groaning.  “I’m not sure I like being wrapped around your finger like that.”

You give a short laugh, stepping in to give him a kiss on the cheek.  “Admit it though, you’ve been like that since day one.”

Crowley growls and wraps an arm firmly around your waist, pulling you to him. “Do you really want to test how far you can push that?”

You continue to grin, wrapping your arms around his neck.  “I don’t need to test it, you prove it every day.”

He brushed your hair away from your face, looking both worried and annoyed. “There’s no going back from this.”

“I had accepted that already Crowley.”  You said quietly.  “I love you and that’s all that matters.”

Crowley’s gaze flickered between your eyes, reading what you wanted.  “Love…”

You brushed your lips against his.  “I know you’re scared for me Crowley, and I’m not saying you don’t have to be and I’m not saying I’m not either, but I don’t want to be suddenly taken away from you, not again.  I know this is risky, the damned lore scared me half to death, but it feels right Crowley.”

“I know,” He breathed.  “And that scares me too.”  Without another word, Crowley pressed his lips firmly to yours, earning a heavy sigh from you.

The weeks passed quickly, Crowley put at ease by no changes in you, even if he did keep a close eye still, you always jesting it off.  You felt no different, but it didn’t mean much.

Crowley still pulled you out of the way when he agreed to let Sam cure Dean though.

“You don’t get a choice in this one love, and it wasn’t just me that said it.” Crowley said firmly as you glared at him, having just been dragged back to the hotel room.  “I’m sorry, but he is too out of control and I will not put you at risk.”

Once you heard it was sorted, Crowley very reluctantly let you go and see, although he wasn’t letting you go alone.

Dean was clearly uncomfortable.  “Y/N.”

“Dean.” You just watched him, arms folded, choosing to allow him to make the first move.

“I tried to stop myself, I did,” He said quietly.  “And I know it’s no excuse, but I don’t know what else to say other than I’m sorry.”

“We’ll work on it.”  You said a little stiffly.

He shifted. “Look Y/N-“

“Dean, this isn’t going to be something we get over quickly, or at all.”  You said sternly.  “So we’ll work on it.”

Dean flinches a little.  “Fine. I guess I should just be grateful that you’re talking to me.”

“Don’t hold me too high Dean,” You said calmly, breaking away from Dean’s gaze.  “If Crowley and I didn’t know what would happen, I wouldn’t be holding him back.”

Dean stared at you, shocked, as Sam looked concerned, but Crowley smirked next to you and you were quick to move the topic on.

Hunting now with the boys was tense, as they weren’t sure how to treat you at times, Castiel being the only one who continued to treat you as if little had happened, although that meant you didn’t miss the occasional concerned look. Crowley didn’t like it, but after one or two discussions, including the suggestion of you hunting on your own, he knew there was little choice in the matter.

There was no way he was going to let you stay in the bunker though, and you had quickly agreed, everything still till raw for you to do that.

There was also a concern that no one had heard from your father since before Dean went dark.

“You’re worried?”  Sam asked you one day.  “Seriously? After everything?”

“I’m worried because I don’t know what he’s up to.”  You said.  “After what we’ve seen, it’s of little comfort that he’s gone off the grid.”

“Hunters go off the grid all the time,” Dean said from across the table. “He probably got too mixed up with Abaddon or Crowley’s goons.”

“Crowley said he hasn’t heard anything,” You argued.  “And before you say anything, I can guarantee that he would tell me.”

So between trying to cure Dean and searching for your father, life became constantly busy, enough that you were distracted away from any other issues.

Not that that currently helped Sam and Dean.

“Dammit Sam, no!”  Dean said angrily.  “I’m not going to tell him.”

“You’d rather he came here after not hearing from her?”  Sam asked.  “I can guarantee he’d do worse to us then.”

Dean huffed and threw up his hands.  “Fine, but this is on you.”

“How-” Dean cut Sam off as he pulled out his phone and called Crowley.

“Is there are reason you’re calling me?”  Crowley asked, annoyed.  “Y/N is meant to be-”

“If you shut up for two seconds, you would know this is about Y/N.”  Dean growled.  “We have a problem.”

Crowley was there in an instant.  “What kind of problem?”

“Crowley!” A tiny voice squealed and Crowley froze as you, or a much younger version of you, suddenly threw themselves around his leg and held on tightly.

Crowley stared at the younger you for a moment before slowly looking up at the Winchesters, who looked very uncomfortable.  “What is this?”

“That,” Sam sighed.  “Is Y/N.”

“We were hunting a witch,” Dean continued.  “Y/N took off on her own before we could stop her.  As soon as we heard fighting, we took off after her, but-”

“There was a scream, a child’s scream, and after we killed the witch, there she was.” Sam finished.

Crowley looked back at you, only to find you grinning up at him, causing him to frown. “So the witch is dead?”

“Sammy shot him.”  You piped in and stepped back to make gun noises and pretend your hands were shooting things.

“That’s our problem.”  Dean said. “It should’ve gone back but…”

Crowley shoots them a dark look before kneeling down to your level, fighting to hide his concern.  “How old are you darling?”

You giggled and held up one hand.  “I’m a big five.”

“And what’s the last thing you remember?”

“Going to bed.”  You thought for a moment.  “Daddy read me a really happy story to stop the nightmares, but I don’t think it worked.”

This made Crowley frown.  “How do you know who I am?”

“Sammy and Deany told me.”  You rocked on your heels, your face falling.  “I’m not in trouble am I?  Daddy always told me I seemed to like being in trouble.”

You, as in actual you, watching in pained frustration as Crowley shook his head. You could see his heart breaking a little as he looked back at Sam and Dean, who both looked grim.

This was just as confusing to you as it was to them, the spell having hit you, a feeling of weightlessness taking you, and then you were staring at your younger self. It hadn’t taken you long to realise that they couldn’t see you and that you couldn’t anything.

But you knew you weren’t dead.

Crowley would’ve known.

You were tethered though, tethered too little five year old you, wherever she went, you had to go, and you were just glad that she was sticking with Sam and Dean.

Sighing, you ran your hands over your head, glad you could still feel something.

“Why didn’t you call me earlier?”  Crowley asked hotly.

“We were hoping we wouldn’t have to.”  Dean said. “We thought-”

“How long has she been like this?”  Crowley hissed, not wanting to hear Dean’s answer.

Sam and Dean share a look.  “About twelve hours.”

You winced as Crowley’s eyes flashed red, clearly controlling his anger because of the younger you, who had returned to the spot on the table, surrounded by paper and pencils.

“Twelve…what would possess you not to call earlier?”

It was something you had tried to tell the boys before you realised they couldn’t hear you, nor see you.  It was a terrifying feeling, existing but with no one able to acknowledge it.  When that had first hit you, you’d had to sit down to calm yourself.  You could understand now why ghosts went mad.

It had been a long twelve hours.

“We were trying to deal with it Crowley.”  Sam said.  “We…we didn’t want to worry you.”

“You remain a terrible liar Moose.”  Crowley growled, causing the younger you to giggle.  “What? Didn’t think I needed to know that my significant other was now five years old?”

“Well, if we knew you weren’t going to be a dick about it, sure.”  Dean said, making younger you gasp and look at Dean with wide eyes.

“Language Squirrel,” Crowley said.  “Wouldn’t want to corrupt her.”

You snort in amusement at Dean’s expression, knowing full well what he was wanting to say.  In reality, this was beyond frustrating for you, and a part of you was very annoyed that Crowley couldn’t see you or sense you.

An idea hit you then and you walked over to Crowley, hesitantly reaching forward. You had tried this on Sam and Dean earlier, but to no effect, Crowley was different though, he was not only a demon but also connected to you.

Your hand touched Crowley’s shoulder and you felt him tense, frowning as he looked around, but at that moment, you were thrown back, hitting the wall hard, being winded and having no time to recover as fingers closed around your throat.

A man dressed entirely in grey had a hold of you, his eyes covered by a heavy cloak, his fingers like ice around your throat and teeth bared as he pressed even harder.

Younger you started screaming.

Power seemed to surge around you and the man looked like he was in a fair amount of pain.  For a single moment, both of you flickered into existence, making Sam and Dean draw their guns and Crowley to step forward, but it was gone just as quick, the man disappearing.

You gasped for breath as he vanished and rubbed your throat, your eyes wide, small pieces coming back to you.

Younger you sobbed and shook where she stood.

“What the hell was that?”  Dean asked quietly.

“Y/N?” Crowley asked, looking at where you were.

“Fuck.” You cursed under your breath and climbed back to your feet.  “What the fuck?”

“Y/N?” Crowley asked again and you realised that it had been momentary, that you were just as alone in this again as you were before.

“We all saw that right?”  Sam asked. “We all saw Y/N?”

“Crowley?” Younger you held out your arms and Crowley didn’t hesitate to scoop you up into his arms.

“We did.” He said.  “Which makes even less sense than having just the little one here.”

“Tell me about it.”  You grumbled. “And what the hell was that thing?”

“It’s the grey man.”  Younger you whispered from where she was buried against Crowley’s neck.

“The grey man?”  Sam asked.

“No one ever believed me,” She whimpered.  “Not even Daddy.  He makes my room cold and tells me…”

“Tells you what darling?”  Crowley asked calmly.

“Tells me it’s almost time, that he will have me soon.”  She wildly shakes her head.  “Don’t let him take me!”

You licked your lips nervously, some part of you remembering the grey man now, remembering that he used to keep you up at night, and it never seemed to matter how much you talked about it, no one ever believed you.

“How the hell did Dad not pick this up?”  You asked angrily.

“No one’s taking you anywhere.” Crowley assured her.  “We’ll sort this out.”

“It looked like a ghost right?”  Dean asked. “And that it had Y/N?  So, what?  Did the witch summon it?”

“That affects her when she’s five?”  Sam said. “I think there’s more to it than that Dean.”

Crowley’s eyes were still scanning where you had been.  “We need to assume that Y/N can hear us, but that is of little use when she can’t talk back.  At this moment, she’s going to have the information, not us.”

“I don’t know anything.”  Younger you said.  “Daddy would know though, Daddy knows everything.”

“She has a point.”  Sam said slowly.

“Yeah, but we don’t know where he is Sam.”  Dean said.  “We’ve been about as close to finding him as we have to finding out how to get rid of this damned mark.”

“Not that I’d let him near her anyway.”  Crowley growled.  “And I can’t believe you boys would actually consider it.”

“We’re a little low on options Crowley.”

“For starters, let’s try Castiel.”  Crowley said. “He should at least be able to see her, seeing as, for whatever reason, I can’t.”

“Why can’t you see her?”  Dean asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine.”  Crowley growled.  “It would be a hell of a lot easier.”

“You’re not wrong.”  You grumbled.

“What makes you think Cas will be any different?”

“I don’t, but seeing as he’s more spiritually in tuned,” Crowley shrugs, leaving it open.  “Not only that, but none of us know what we are dealing with.  I don’t know about you, but I’d rather have all our cards in play.”

“I gave up trying to tell them that.”  You growled.

Her head rose off Crowley’s shoulder.  “Is that why you yelled so much?”

You froze, staring at her as the three men looked confused.

“You can see me?”  You asked.

She slowly nods.

It took everything you had not to sob in relief.  “Y/N-” That felt weird.  “Can you tell them I’m here?”

Younger you shakes her head.  “He said I’m not allowed.”

“Who said you’re not allowed?”  You asked, trying to keep calm as realisation slowly dawned on the boys.

“The grey man.”

You swallowed, this was beyond anything you could remember, and you knew there was only one thing that would possibly get through to her.  “Sweetheart,” You inwardly winced at the word.  “You can trust them.  They won’t let anything happen to you.”

“But-”

“I know it’s scary.”  You said softly.  “But Crowley’s got you.  If you stay with him, he’ll protect you.  Now, you gotta be my voice here sweetheart, because I’m in danger and they can’t hear me. For both our sakes.  Please.”

“You can see her, can’t you darling?”  Crowley asked younger you.  “You can see…other Y/N?”

She held your gaze for a long moment, and even now, you knew that look, that look trying to decide what the right thing to do was.

“Yes,” She finally answered Crowley as you sighed with relief.  “She’s right there.”  She points, all of them looking a little relieved, but it was most evident on Crowley.

“Sweetheart, tell them I don’t remember anything about the grey man.”  You said, know you had to be quick.

“She doesn’t remember the grey man.”

“And I think calling Castiel is a good idea.”

“She wants you to call Castiel.”

“Will Feathers be able to see you love?”  Crowley asked.

You shrug. “No idea.”

“She doesn’t know.”  Younger you squirms in Crowley’s arms.  “I’m hungry.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that.  That used to be your escape mechanism for trying to get out of something you didn’t want to do, and it usually worked.

“What would you like darling?”  Crowley asked her, making you roll your eyes.

“Crowley, you can’t just ask what a kid wants,” Dean said.  “They could-”

“Ice-cream.”  You said firmly, making Crowley grin.

You sighed, even as you chuckled.  “Of course.”

Younger you grinned at you and then stuck her tongue out at Dean, who rolled his eyes.

“Ice-cream it is.” Crowley snapped his fingers and a wide assortment spread out on the table before her, causing her to squeal in delight.

“She’ll be sick Crowley,” Sam protested, watching as you squirm out of Crowley’s arms and hurried over to the table.

“Her life is in danger, I figured it would cheer her up.”  Crowley shrugged before his eyes searched for you again, something unreadable in his gaze.  “Well get you out of this love, I promise.”

You just smiled sadly, even though no one could see, and leant against a wall, glad you could at least do that to watch yourself and wondering, not for the first time, why you didn’t remember any of this.

The younger you sat and happily ate away at a bowl, something that she’d been quick to pick a scoop of each flavour for, a pencil in her other hand as she continued to draw at the same time.

Sam, Dean and Crowley were busy discussing what this could possibly be, Castiel on his way, while you were stuck between pacing, huffing with impatience, and trying to get the younger you to put in suggestions.

“I’m eating.”  She said firmly after you tried again and this made you laugh after a moment, shaking your head.

“Of course, I’m sorry sweetheart.”  You said. “I’ll leave you be.”

She happily went back to eating and drawing, making you sigh and walk back over to the boys, trying to read over their shoulders, having barely even glanced up when she’d spoken.

Being this close to them, to Crowley in particular, made you realise how much you missed being able to touch, how much it meant to you to be able to feel and you involuntarily shuddered, hugging yourself a little.

Dean slams the book shut. “This is ridiculous.  We’re getting nowhere.”

“We’ve just to keep looking Dean.”  Sam said, turning back to the book shelves and looking for another book.  “What choice have we got?”

“None.” Crowley growled, stepping back to, but into you, making you yelp and him to stiffen as you stepped away as quick as you could, brushing off the feeling of cobwebs.  “Bloody hell love, do you have any idea how odd that sensation is?”

You were about to answer when the room went cold and you snapped around, seeing the grey man.  “Oh fuck.”

Clearly, they all felt it this time too, younger you whimpering and diving under the table.

You stepped back, holding up a hand.  “Look, whatever you are, you’re going to have to back off.”

He advanced and you swallowed.  It had been worth a shot.

You turned to run only to come face to face with him again, the fingers back around your throat, the cold creeping into you again, making you gasp, your eyes watering, unable to breath.

“Y/N?” Dean called into the room.

The grey man smiled under his heavy cloak.  “No one to save you.”

Anger flared through you, your hands around his wrists tightening, the lights overhead beginning to flicker as you growled against the pressure on your throat, the man’s smile fading before there was a sharp crackle through you and he was blasted off again, crashing hard into a bookshelf, making the shelf shake, once again both of you flickering into existence before disappearing just as quick.

You drew in deep breathes, feeling exhausted.  “Holy shit.”

Dean walked over to the bookshelf, looking over what had fallen.  “What did you do Y/N?”

“If I knew, I’d tell you.”  You groaned and sunk heavily to the floor, your hands shaking.

“You can’t sit down!”  The tiny voice squeaked from under the table.  “You need to be ready when he comes back!”

“Give me a break kid,” You muttered, your eyes drooping.  “That…took…a lot…”

“But if you sleep that’s when he gets you!”  She crawled out, eyes wide and desperate.  “He’ll kill you!”

You looked at her through half closed eyes.  “Why don’t I remember this sweetheart?  What happened with all this?”

Her eyes filled with tears.  “I don’t know what you mean.  Please don’t go to sleep!”

Sighing, you rubbed your eyes and struggled back up, leaning over for a moment to breath. “Okay…it’s okay…I’m not going to go to sleep.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked at you.  “He can’t take you.  He won’t!”

You laughed a little.  “Thanks for the confidence sweetheart, but I’m not sure I can handle another round like that.”

Sam looks up from the books, glancing from younger you to Crowley and back.  “I…I know this suggestion isn’t going to go down well…”  You all looked at him, Crowley looking concerned and Dean frowning.  “But what if…”  He bit his lip, thinking.

“Spit it out Moose.”  Crowley said. “If you think something will help, then say it.”

He glanced between the two again.  “Crowley…when you possess something, you can figuratively use their abilities right?”

Crowley opened his mouth to answer before he looked at younger you and realised where Sam was going with this.  “You want me to possess Y/N?”

Dean’s jaw dropped as Sam shrugged.  “Well, she can see our Y/N, and no offence to a five year old, but we aren’t actually getting much out of her about the situation.”

“Sam you can’t be serious?”  Dean asked. “This is still Y/N we’re talking about.”

Sam nods. “And they’re together Dean.  If Crowley can see Y/N through…Y/N, then this is going to work a lot better.”

Crowley was shaking his head.  “I can’t do that to her.”

“Crowley-”

“She’s five years old Sam,” He said firmly.  “What kind of five year old needs to be put through that?”

“She clearly gets through it Crowley.”  Sam said and you silently agreed.  “Whatever happens here, she gets through it, whether she remembers it or not, otherwise she wouldn’t be here.  We need information and until Cas gets here, we’re running out of options.”

Crowley clearly still didn’t like it, nor did Dean.

“Sweetheart,” Those tear filled eyes looked at you again.  “You know you can trust Crowley right?”  She nods and you glanced at him for a moment before looking back at her. “I want you to tell him that.”

She shuffled on her feet.  “But…”

“I know, but it’s important.”  You paused. “He’s scared too sweetheart.  He needs a little encouragement.”

The three of them were still discussing it as she nervously walked over to Crowley and tugged on his coat, quickly getting his attention and making him crouch down to her.

“What is it darling?”

“I…” She stares at her feet for a moment, her cheeks turning red.  “I trust you Crowley.”

Crowley stared at her, after a moment, he sighed, a smile coming to lips.  “Love, you can’t get her to use that on me.”

You smiled. “Of course I can.”

“She said she can.”  Younger you said making him chuckle and scoop her up into his arms.

“Well, she’s just going to wait like the rest of us.”  He said and carried her back to the table.  “Now, why don’t you go back to-” He paused, his head tilting as he looked at the pictures on the table before placing her down in the chair and pointing at them.  “Darling…who are these drawings of?”

Younger you blinked as you looked at the drawing.  “You, Sammy and Deany.”

You could feel Crowley’s discomfort and went over.  “What the-”

“What’s wrong?”  Dean asked, joining Crowley next to younger you.

Crowley picked up one picture in particular, the picture of three people. A taller one had an unusual blue glow around him, made of squiggles, the shorter one next to him had a mix of blue and black, the third, clearly dressed in black, was surrounded by black and red but had very clear red eyes.

“She…how does she know what you are Crowley?”  Dean asked.  “What is she seeing?”

“I don’t know.”  Crowley said simply.

You stared at the picture, not ever remembering being able to do that.

Crowley knelt by her side again.  “Y/N…what do you see when you look at me?”

She frowned, looking confused.  “You?” She points at the picture. “That’s you.”

“And Sam and I?”  Dean asked. “What’s with the lines sweetheart?”

She blinks up at him.  “That’s what I see.”

“How?” Dean asked, sounding harsher than he meant to, making her shift uncomfortably.

“Easy Dean,” Sam said, resting a book down on the table.  “She won’t understand it, not at that age.”

“Sam, Y/N has never mentioned being able to see this shit.”  Dean said, gesturing to the picture.  “So what is going on?”

“I don’t know.”  You breathed. “This is just as strange to me.”

Younger you shook your head.  “She doesn’t know.”

Crowley sighed and ran a hand through his hair.  “How long till Castiel gets here?”

Sam checks his watch.  “He should be here soon.”

Dean rubbed his forehead.  “Man, I need a drink.”  He turned and disappeared off to the kitchen.

Sam opened the book in front of him as he sat at the table, flicking through the pages. Crowley stood and stepped back, letting younger you go back to drawing, his expression conflicted.  You sighed worriedly, this whole thing worse and worse the longer it went on.

Castiel turned up not much longer after Sam had left the room to go and look for something, looking concerned.  “What has happened?”

“Honestly, we were hoping you could tell us.”  Crowley said.  “She’s been like for a while now.”

Younger you was staring with wide eyes at Castiel, awe in her expression and you wondered exactly what she was seeing.

“You’re pretty.”  She squeaked, blushing furiously, making Crowley frown.

Castiel smiled at her.  “Why thank you Y/N, you are very pretty too.”

She giggled, beaming at him.

Crowley cleared his throat.  “Thank you Cas, but we need you to be able to talk to the older Y/N for us.”

“Older Y/N?”  Castiel asked and your stomach sank as he looked around the room.  “Where is she?”

Younger you pointed at you.  “There.”

Castiel and Crowley followed her point, Castiel frowning.  “So…there are two Y/N’s?”

“You can’t see her either?”  Dean asked from the other end of the table, a beer in front of him as he went through another book.

Castiel shakes his head.  “No.”

Crowley cursed this time making younger you gasp.  “Crowley!”

“Sorry darling.”  Crowley grumbled.  “But we are running out of options.”

“What is after her again?”  Castiel asked, looking between Dean and Crowley.

“The grey man.”  They said together, making him frown.  “I’ve never heard of such a creature.”

“Yeah, join the club.”  Dean said, taking a long drink.  “From what we can tell, it’s some sort of ghost.  It’s already tried twice to get Y/N, but both times…something has happened that’s stopped it.”

“I think I can help with that.”  Sam said as he re-entered the room, carrying a box.  “The lore is…dodgy at best, but-” He drops the box on the table.  “The one thing it reiterates is children.”

“Lore?” Dean asked.  “What are you talking about Sam?”

Sam takes the book he was reading from his pocket.  “Things that the Men of Letters never confirmed existed, but had a good idea of.  The grey man is one of them.”

“Wait, so we’ve just been looking and you’ve had it this whole time?”  Dean asked.

Sam shrugs. “I needed it to find this.”  He taps the box.

“This better be good Moose.”  Crowley growled.  “And even better if you’ve kept this from us.”

Sam rolled his eyes.  “Look, the book says the grey man goes after children, only the children can see him but he can’t actually do anything to the children at that point in time.”

“Okay…” Dean said.  “Why?”

“Because children are pure.”  Sam said. “At least, that’s the theory.  This…thing…whatever it is, can only take those that become corrupted, at any point in their life, but it’ll always return them to being children, to the last point that they were pure in their lives, which is when the grey man marked them originally.”

An ominous air fell over the room and you swallowed, feeling your heart thud loudly. This was a little bit more than what you had expected and you weren’t overly sure how you felt about it.  “What the hell does that mean?”

“What does that mean?”  Younger you piped up for you, although she was busy drawing away again, so it came off as a lot less serious.

There was a moment of silence as the four men seemed to take this in.

“Cas…” Sam began a little nervously, eyes flicking to Crowley for a moment.  “What would happen if a demon possessed a child?”

Castiel and Crowley frowned.  “I don’t like what you’re implying Moose.”

“Just, hear Cas out Crowley.”  Sam said, his gaze going back to Castiel.  “What would happen Cas?”

Castiel scratches his neck.  “Well, technically nothing, apart from the memories of whatever the demon does with them, a child is just a vessel like any other human-”

“See.” Crowley said quickly, but Castiel shakes his head.

“She may be different.”  Castiel said, making Crowley scowl.  “I mean…she is a pure blood Crowley, meaning things for her are a lot more sensitive.”

“Is that why she can see us?”  Crowley asked after a moment.

“See us?” Castiel asked confused and Crowley points at the pictures laid out on the table, Castiel tilting his head to look at them and frowning.  “Not…not in any pure blood I’ve heard of.  That…that is a rare gift, even rare than purebloods.”

“Oh good, more to work out.”  Dean said. “Do we have a way to kill it Sam?”

Sam bites his lip.  “Maybe, but it’s a long shot.”  He takes out his knife and slides it along the edge of the bow before cracking it open, another ornate box inside.  Dean joined him as he pulled it out and carefully opened it, a sword within.

Sam’s hand quickly grabbed Dean’s as he went to grab it.  “Don’t.”  He said quickly.  “This sword isn’t made for the living Dean.  It’ll kill you if you touch it.”

Dean quickly pulled his hand away and looks at the sword.  “And that’s going to be of use how?”

“Because at the moment, that’s the state that Y/N is in.”  Sam said and then nods to younger you.  “That’s her physical form, her other form, the one we know, is her spirit, from what we can tell anyway, that’s why little Y/N can see her.”

“I’m not little,” She said a little indignantly.  “I’m a big five Sammy.”

Sam smiles and shakes his head.  “Of course you are, but you’re a lot small than us still.”

She beams at him and pokes out her tongue.

“Okay, then why can’t they see her?”  Dean asked, nodding to Castiel and Crowley.

“Especially me.”  Crowley grumbled.

“I don’t know.”  Sam said. “I mean, this is a very specific set of circumstances and again, they never proved this thing existed.  We’ve just got to work with what we know.”

“We know squat Sam.”  Dean said.

“We know some.”  Sam retorted and looked at Crowley.  “Because think about it, she’s only five years old, what other reason would there be for her returning to this age?”

Crowley frowned.  “What are you trying to imply?”

“That whatever you do here affects her, whether she remembers that or not.”  Sam said.  “We need to talk to her Crowley and you’re the only one with the capabilities of doing that.”

As the two start to argue, Castiel is distracted by a small tug on his coat, younger you beaming up at him.  “Cassie?”

“What is it Y/N?”  He asked, smiling a little at your nickname.

She holds up a piece of paper to him.  “I drew you a picture.”

Castiel takes it off her and looks at it, before stilling.  “Um…thank you Y/N.  You are very talented.”  He then looks at the others, Crowley looking less than impressed by whatever Sam had been saying, Dean flicking through the book that Sam had had.  “Guys?”

They look at him and Castiel holds the picture up, it was messy, as most five year olds drawing were, but it was clearly him, with the coat and dark hair and blue eyes, but what they all stared at were the wings.

“Y/N…” Dean’s voice was quiet as he looked from the picture to younger you and back again. “You can see Cas’s wings?”

“They’re pretty.”  She said and went to reach forward towards Castiel but Crowley quickly grabbed her hand. “Aww, Crowley…”

“You can’t touch Y/N.”  He said gently.  “It’s…dangerous.”

“Dangerous is not the word I would use.”  Castiel said slowly and a little uncomfortably.  “But no Y/N, you cannot touch them.”

She pouts, but says nothing.

“What is going on?”  Dean asked. “How can she them?”

“I don’t know.”  Castiel said. “The only one that can answer that is Y/N, whether she remembers or not.”

You looked up from the sword.  “How am I supposed to answer without remembering?”

Castiel was looking at Crowley.  “I understand what Sam is saying and I happen to agree.  I know you are uncomfortable, that you feel that this is what triggered these future events-” You froze.  “But unless you want me to do it with her permission, then we have no other choice.”

“Oh what and like I’m going to bloody just take her?”  Crowley growled.  “It’d be safer if you did.”

“Crowley…” Your voice was quiet, realising what was happening, even though you knew he couldn’t hear you.

“Blame yourself all you want,” Castiel said.  “The fact is Crowley, this could very well be the event that leads to you two being together.”

You watched Crowley think, your heart hammering.

“You’re seriously thinking about this?”  Dean asked. “After all you’ve been through with her, you’re really going to sit there and think about it?”

Crowley rubs a hand over his face.  “No. Of course not.  I…I just want to understand.”

“We can work that out later.”  Dean said. “Right now, we need to talk to Y/N.”

You felt it this time, the subtle shift in the air and you looked around, eyeing off the sword for a moment before thinking better of it, you didn’t know what it did yet.  “Sweetheart, go to Crowley.”

She didn’t need telling twice, tugging hard on his hand with a smaller whimper and clinging to him, making the four men tense.

The air puffed out in front of you and you swallowed.  “Come on arsehole.”

The blow was sudden and swift, sending you flying across the room, crashing hard into more shelves, the books flying as you landed hard on the ground.

“No!” Your young voice stood out. “Leave her alone!”

You looked up as Crowley scooped her into his arms again, anger pulsing through you as you saw the grey man striding fast towards you.

“Time for you to die now.”  He hissed, picking you up and throwing you again, sending hard into the table, making you grunt in pain.

The sword was just out of reach.

“Shit.” You made to dive for it, but the grey man’s hand wrapped around your leg and dragged you back, pinning down to the table, one hand around your throat this time, the other plunging into your body.

You screamed.

The lights flickered throughout the bunker, the four men looking around frantically, unsure of what to do.

“Dammit…” Dean breathed.

Younger you was crying into Crowley’s chest, clutching him tightly, the only one able to hear you.

Pain burned through you as you continued to scream, legs kicking uselessly out, and his hand twisted, making it worse, making your world swim.

Sam looked at Crowley desperately.  “Make her scream.”

“What?” Crowley looked at Sam.

“Make Y/N scream Crowley, it’s the only thing that’s going to save her!”  Sam said quickly.

Crowley looked at younger you in his arms.  “Darling, I need you scream.”

She shakes her head.

“You need to help her.  You can chase him away if you scream.”

Over the roar of pain in your head, you could hear them.  “Do it!”  You screamed, starting to taste blood on your lips.

She whimpered, glancing over, her eyes wide with terror, watching as your back arched through the pain.  Her lip trembling, she drew in several breaths before she screamed, loud and piercing.

The grey man hissed in pain, the two of you once again flickering into existence and you felt his strength wane and it allowed you to focus a little, letting the anger course through her.

With a low growl, the same power flared through you again and he was violently thrown off, vanishing this time before he hit anything.  You stayed in existence long enough to curse, your body slumping back on the table.

“Y/N!” All four of them shouted but it was too late as you vanished too.

“We don’t have a lot of time left.”  Sam said, looking at Crowley.  “We need to do this now, I don’t think she’ll survive another attack.”

Crowley nods, his grip tight on the sobbing form in his arms and he gently puts her down. “Are you okay Y/N?”

She shakes her head.

He smiles gently and wipes the tears from her face.  “Well, you’re going to be, okay?  But right now, I need you to do something for me.  Do you think you can do something for me darling?”

Her lip trembles.  “I…I don’t know…”

“Well, I need you to trust me.”  He said. “I’m not going to hurt you, ever, I promise.”

Slowly, she nods.  “O-okay Crowley...”

Crowley looks at the others.  “I want it clear that I don’t like this.”

“We don’t have a choice.”  Sam said. “Trust me, we don’t like this either.”

“If Cas does it-” Dean tries to cut in but it cut off by a glare from Crowley.

Crowley moves to a chair and sits, looking back at young you, who looked so scared. “Y/N…do me a favour darling and close your eyes.”

“But-”

“Please.” Crowley said softly and with a small whine, she complied.

Crowley shoots a look at Sam.  “This better work Moose.”

Without another word, he left his body, the smoke curling around and entering younger you.

The three men didn’t say anything, but it was a little unnerving when Crowley opened her eyes and they were red.

“This…is not fun.  What she sees is very confusing, it’s a good amalgamation of colours and noise, I don’t even know how she sees through it.”  Crowley growled, but it made Dean snort, biting his lip.  “Oh, keep laughing chuckles, we’ll see who’s laughing when-” Crowley froze, seeing you still collapsed on the table.  “Y/N?”

You didn’t move.

Crowley hurried over, climbing onto the table so that he could look at you, your face pale and breathing shallow.  “Y/N can you hear me?”

Your eyes didn’t open until he gently touched your face, even then, it was clear you weren’t seeing clearly.  “Crowley…”

He frowned in concern, ignoring the others that were watching in tense silence. “What is happening love?”

“I wish I knew…”  Your voice was quiet, your eyes closing again.  “But that hurt like hell.”

“If you were in Hell, you’d know it.”  Crowley said, making your mouth twitch in a small smile.  “Listen love, you need to get back up, we’re going to need you for this.”

You just groan but don’t have the strength to move.

“I know you’re hurting, I can see it,” He said, looking worried.  “But you and her, you’re the only two that can fight that thing.”

“Crowley?”

“Yes love?”

“Will the sword kill me?”

Crowley looked at the sword and sighed, looking back at the others.  “She wants to know if the sword will kill her.”

“In theory, no.”  Sam said. “She’s...well, she’s virtually a ghost with a physical link.  She should be able to use it just fine.”

“Sounds comforting.”  You opened your eyes again to look over at them, even that feeling exhausting.  “And if it doesn’t work that way?”

“We’ll deal with that if it comes to that.”  Crowley said.  “Right now, you need to get up.”

You hummed, closing your eyes again for a moment.  “Do you know how weird this is?”

“Yes.”

You smiled. “You’ve been so good with her.”

Crowley’s face turns a little grim.  “Come on love, no talking like that.  Get up.”

You lick your lips and sigh before trying to sit up, your arms shaking as they tried to support you and you groan, clutching your stomach a little.  “Good god he did a number on me.”

Crowley rested a hand on your shoulder, the touch bringing the comfort you had been needing and you looked at him.  “We need to find Dad after this, I somehow think he’s going to have a lot of the answers.”

He nods. “Whatever you want love, but let’s deal with one thing at a time.”

You struggle to stand, your legs shaking as you breathe hard.  “Shit.  Crowley…”

“You can do this love.”  Crowley said. “You have to do this.”

Sam stepped forward.  “I know you won’t want to hear this Y/N, or you either Crowley, but would there be any reason why you could be sharing power?”

Crowley frowned at Sam as you concentrated more about staying on your feet, but it was Dean that answered with a heavy groan.  “You guys didn’t?”

Everyone looked at Dean, you giving a weak chuckle.  “Well, he looks a bit differently on it now doesn’t he?”

Dean was clearly caught between disgust and curiosity.  “You really did, you went through with it?”

“Does that really matter Dean?”  Crowley asked, looking annoyed.

“Well it answers his question doesn’t it?”  Dean said.  “Not that it makes it any better, still damned-”

“Thank you.”  Crowley growled.  “But to answers Sam’s question there is a reason, but Y/N hasn’t exactly been showing any signs of it.”

Sam hesitates.  “Not entirely true…”  When Crowley stares at him, he winces a little.  “Just small things I’ve noticed, I don’t even think she’s been aware of it herself, but if she’s needed something, it’s been there, just like that.”

You frowned, still holding your stomach.  “What?”

“Care to elaborate a little more?”  Crowley asked.

“It's just so weird...” Dean mutters, earning a glare, looking odd from a little girl, from Crowley.

“It started with a pen,” Sam explained.  “I know Y/N has a bad habit of forgetting one when she's researching, and this was true the other week, but sure enough, there it was and then gone just as quick.  I know it doesn't seem like much, but again, this time in the kitchen, she couldn't reach a mug. The mug came to her, I expected her to notice that one, but still, nothing.”

You were frowning, as was Crowley.  “That's...not exactly how I expected it to manifest, if at all.”

“Yeah, right, like you didn't do it for some sort of gain.”  Dean said, making Crowley step forward, but you touched his shoulder.

“Don't.” You said softly.  “He's always going to be a jackass, just leave it.”

Crowley nods, making Dean frown.  “What did she say?”

“Nothing you need to worry about.”  Crowley snapped.  “Samantha, is there a reason why this is important?”

Sam nods slowly, unsure.  “It could be an advantage that this thing won't be expecting.  If Y/N can tap into it, in theory, it should be enough to kill it, with or without the sword.”

Crowley clearly doesn't like option.  “Right.”

“Crowley...”  You sighed. “We knew there was a chance this would happen.”

“I know, but throwing this on you so quickly-“

“And the alternative?”

Crowley looks at you, his expression grim and worried.

“You are worried for Y/N's soul?” Castiel suddenly asked, making Crowley grit his teeth. “I understand that you think it would work that way, but as a pure blood, it works differently.  She gets to choose.”

“Choose?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.  “As in choose where I go when I die?”

“She gets to choose where she goes when she dies you mean?”  Crowley asked, making Castiel nod.

“Most went to purgatory,” Castiel said.  “Obviously because they were often vampires or werewolves, but they still had the option.”

“They didn't pick Heaven?”  Dean asked, frowning.  “I mean, seriously?”

You shifted uncomfortably.  “This is currently irrelevant.  I'm feeling like shit here.”

“It's very relevant,” Crowley said.  “Love, if you get to choose-“

Despite your exhaustion, your look to him was clear.  There was only one way you would ever pick.

His.

“Y/N-“

“Do you really want to have this argument now?”

He paused, feeling all eyes on him, before he sighed.  “Fine.  How would she tap into it?”

“She's already been doing it,” Sam said.  “I'm sure focusing would help.”

You sighed and rubbed your head, focusing seeming out of the question.  Unfortunately, you had very limited options.

Crowley was watching you, seeing everything, wanting nothing more than to just pull you away from all this, but knowing he couldn't.

You noticed, giving a small smile.  “Relax love, I always pull through.”

He sighs, hiding his smile.  “Can you really see me?”

“No,” You said.  “That was news to me too.”  You looked at the sword and nod.  “Alright. Let's do this.”

“Y/N-“

“I'm sure.” You said, confirming with a nod. “Now, get to being you.  You...you don't need to see this.”

Crowley looks taken back for a moment before chuckling weakly.  “Who's protecting who here?”

“You really want me to answer that?”

Shaking his head, he walked back over to his body, but pauses.  “You be careful love.”

“I love you to.”  You said, smiling.

Crowley hesitates again for a moment before sighing and closing his eyes, leaving younger you.

Younger you swayed a little, blinking at Crowley.  “That was weird.”

Crowley gets up and scoops her back into his arms.  “Yes it was darling.  Are you alright?”

She nods before curling up against him.  “I'm tired.”

“She is getting weak.”  Castiel said. “We need to do this now.”

“Don't I know it.”  You growled, limping around to the sword, looking a little tentatively at it, letting out a long breath.  “Alright.”

You knew that this could go wrong, knew that this could be the end of everything, but there was no other choice.

Carefully, you picked up the sword, which felt warm in your hand.

The four men watched the sword disappear.

“You okay Y/N?”  Sam asked.

“My head hurts.”  Younger you mumbled, buried against Crowley.

“Sweetheart-“

“Leave her be Moose.”  Crowley said. “Y/N is fine.”

“How can you-“ Sam stopped at Crowley’s look, concern flashing across his gaze, but Sam nods.

There was a moment of silence, you were getting used to the sword in your hand, eyeing the room, readying for the grey man.

There was no other option.  You had to do this.

Drawing in deep breathes, you let the thoughts of worry leave you, you let the feeling of being drained fade away.  You shuddered, suddenly very aware of a feeling within you, one that wasn't entirely unfamiliar, but definitely one you had never noticed before.

The cold started in the room, everyone feeling it.

Younger you squirmed in Crowley's arms, a small whimper rising from her throat.

The grey man appeared before you, cautious this time.

“You are meant to die.”  He said softly.

“I'm meant to be a lot of things.”  You said, holding the sword steadily in front of you.  “Doesn’t mean that I just give into it.”

From what you can see, his face contorts into a snarl.  “If you think that you can defeat me, blade or not, you would be very wrong.”

“Well, I won’t know until I try.”  You said.

His attack was fast, intent on disarming you, but you’d been hunting long enough to know the signs, to know how a fight could work.  The sword in your hand swung, the grey man just dodging, and with an angry hiss, he tried again and again to get to you.  The sword mightn’t have been natural in your hands, but you had enough of an understanding of the basic movements to keep the grey man at bay.

Except it was tiring.

You could feel your strength wavering, still exhausted and in pain from your ordeal with him before, and this had the worry returning.

He could clearly feel it.  “Why not just make it stop?  Give into me, I can take the pain away.”

You glanced at the four men, all tense, all eyeing the room, waiting for something to happen, your gaze lingering on Crowley.  “Some things are worth the pain.”

“No!” You were blasted back, the sword scattering away as you skidded across the floor, the men jumping as the sword appeared.  Winded, you scrambled up to your feet and dove for the sword, the grey man marching towards you, holding out a hand.

There was tug on your ankle and you crashed hard into the ground, tasting blood as your teeth snapped down on your tongue as your chin his the floor and you yelped in pain.  A violent energy curled around you and you threw it back, sending him staggering back, giving you enough time to grip the sword again and bring it back up in front of you, spitting out a mouthful of blood as the grey man growled.

A part of you froze in fear, his hood having been thrown off, dead, milky white eyes looking at you with burning fury, the eyes rimmed with red, cracking with blood trickling down.  Another part of you pitied the creature and you looked at it grimly.

“That’s what this is about?”  You asked quietly.  “Recapturing what you were?  Recapturing life?”

“You know nothing.”  He hissed angrily and leapt again, hands out stretched.

You weren’t sure what made you do it, but you let him hit you, crashing back into another bookshelf, his hand burying into your stomach making you scream a little before gritting your teeth through the pain.

“No!” The small voice reached you.  “Leave her alone!”

The voice sounded so small and weak compared to earlier and you growled, suddenly pushing forward against him, getting your back away from the wall.

Younger you whimpered in Crowley’s arms, tears streaking down her face.  “No…”

Your hand curled around his wrist, the other tightening on the sword.  “I don’t think you get it buddy,” Your voice was low, working through the pain, blood still filling your mouth.  “I’m not going anywhere.”

He tried to push back, but quickly found he couldn’t, instead, you pushed him another step away, twisting his hand free of you and let the power flow your fingers. He hissed, contorting, trying to get away from you, but unable to break away now.

There was a buzz in your ears, drowning out the sound of your heartbeat.

“The grey man is scared.”  Younger you said, her eyes wide as she watched.  “I’ve never seen him scared before.”

“Scared of what?”  Dean asked.

“Her.”

Sam and Dean share a look, Castiel eyeing the room while Crowley looked worried. “Why…why is he scared of her darling?”

“She’s fighting back.  He’s not used to them fighting back.”

Power flared through your hand and he hissed in pain, his other hand snaking out, trying to hit you, only to be stopped short just of hitting you.

“Enough.” You growled.  “This ends now.”

You didn’t feel the two of you come into existence this time, nor hear the sharp intakes of breath from the four men, instead you were entirely focused on the sharp crackle of energy that you sent through your hand and into the grey man.

His hand crumbled under yours, making him shriek and stagger back, the blackness increasing up his arm and there was nothing he could do to stop it.  You stepped forward, following him, the sword steady in your hand, your entire focus on him.

This was ending now.

You swung, hard, the sword burying deep.

An unearthly silence fell temporarily through the room before there was a high pitched ringing that had all of you covering your ears in pain, Crowley protecting younger you as she started to cry from the pain.  You staggered back, the sound drowning out everything, your eyes watering and you swear you can feel blood between your fingers as darkness and light seemed to start to pour from the grey man.

With a final, unearthly shriek, seeming to echo down to your bones, he exploded, throwing you back.

The silence this time was a little different, tense, waiting for something else to happen.

“He’s gone.”  Your younger voice squeaked, looking at the room.  “He’s really gone!”

She squirmed out of Crowley’s arms and just as her feet hit the floor, she vanished.

“Y/N!” All four of them called but were greeted by silence.

That was when Crowley’s stomach twisted and his gaze snapped over to you, slumped motionless against the wall.  “Y/N!”

There was a lot of blood, an impossible amount of blood, mostly from the wound in your stomach, but also dripping from your mouth and your ears.  Crowley was next to you in a heartbeat, his hand applying pressure to the wound, his other checking your pulse.

“Don’t you dare Y/N,” Crowley growled, his voice breaking.  “Not after all that.  Don’t you dare.”

Castiel joined his side, looking you over.  “She doesn’t have much left.”  Reaching over, he rests a hand on your shoulder, his hand glowing as he healed you.

Sam and Dean watched on, Dean still glancing around the room.  “Where…where is the younger Y/N?”

Sam swallows.  “I guess…I guess we have to assume she went back to her time?”

“I hate assumptions.”  Dean growls.

“Yeah…” Sam agrees, looking grim back to you.

Castiel moved his hand away but you still didn’t move, your breathing shallow.

“Y/N?” Crowley asked, cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing you cheek.  “Can you hear me?”

Castiel frowned at your lack of response and rests two fingers on your forehead. “She’s in a very deep sleep.  I…I do not think that I can wake her up.”

“What do you mean you can’t wake her up?”  Crowley asked, his face flashing with anger but moving quickly back to you.

Castiel shakes his head, dropping his hand.  “I cannot wake her up.  She must come out of this herself.  It…it is not entirely unheard of after being through so much, especially having shifted several times between the spirit world and the real one.  No doubt it is more than just her body that is exhausted.”

“Will she be alright?”  Crowley forced himself to ask.

Castiel looked back at Sam and Dean for a moment, who both knew what he was about to say. “I don’t know.  I honestly don’t know.”

Taglist

@sunshineistoofuckingbright | @everyjourneylove | @wholita | @darthcastiel | @thelazybamf | @gettinjoyful

[pamphletstoinspire]

THE FIRST EPISTLE OF ST. PAUL, THE APOSTLE, TO THE CORINTHIANS - From The Latin Vulgate Bible

Chapter 4

PREFACE.

Corinth was the capital of Achaia, a very rich and populous city, where St. Paul had preached a year and a half, and converted a great many. See Acts xviii. 10. Now having received a letter from them, (chap. vii. 1.) and being informed of divers disputes and divisions among them, (chap. i. ver. 11.) he wrote this letter to them, and sent it by the same persons, Stephanas, Fortunatus, and Achaicus, who had brought him their letter, chap. xvi. 17. It was written about the year 56, not from Philippi, as it is commonly marked at the end of the Greek copies, but rather from Ephesus. The subject and main design of this Epistle was to take away the divisions among them about the talents and merits of those who had baptized and preached to them, and to settle divers matters of ecclesiastical discipline.

Chapter 4

God's ministers are not to be judged. He reprehends their boasting of their preachers: and describes the treatment the apostles ever where met with..

1 Let a man so look upon us as the ministers of Christ, and the dispensers of the mysteries of God.

Notes & Commentary:

Ver. 1. Mysteries of God. That is, the dogmas of faith, revealed by the Almighty. (Estius)

2 Here now it is required among the dispensers, that a man be found faithful.

Ver. 2. No explanation given.

3 But as to me, it is a thing of the least account to be judged by you, or by man's judgment: for neither do I judge myself.

Ver. 3. Or by human judgment. Literally, by human day. The sense, says St. Jerome, is, by any human judgment, or by men, whose judgment is in the day, or time of this life: but God judges in his day, after this life, and chiefly at the last day of judgment. --- Neither do I judge myself, so as to look upon myself absolutely certain of the state of my soul, or that I am for certain justified, though I am not conscious to myself of any thing, because I am to be judged by an omniscient God, the great searcher of hearts, who perhaps may discover faults, which I, partial to myself, overlook. Now if St. Paul durst not say, he was justified, what presumption is it for others to pretend to an absolute certainty, that they are just in the sight of God! (Witham)

4 For I am not conscious to myself of any thing: yet hereby I am not justified: but he that judgeth me is the Lord.

Ver. 4. For I am not conscious. This great apostle of the Gentiles, though conscious to himself of no breach of duty, still does not dare to call himself just. How different is the conduct of this apostle, from those wicked impostors, who teach, that a man is justified by believing himself so. (Estius) --- If this privileged apostle was afraid to from any judgment of his own heart and thoughts, whether they were pure or not, but left the trial thereof to the day of judgment, the day of his death, how presumptuous are they, who dare to pronounce on their election and predestination!

5 Therefore judge not before the time: until the Lord come, who both will bring to light the hidden things of darkness, and will make manifest the counsels of the hearts: and then shall every man have praise from God.

Ver. 5. Judge not, &c. He gives them an admonition against rash and false judgments, and hints at those among them, who said, this man is better, this man is greater than such a one, &c. See St. Chrysostom. (Witham)

6 But these things, brethren, I have in a figure transferred to myself and to Apollo, for your sakes: that in us you may learn, that one be not puffed up against the other for another, above that which is written.

Ver. 6. These things, brethren, I have in a figure transferred to myself, and to Apollo. Literally, these things have I transfigured in me and Apollo, that is, I have represented the divisions and disputes among you, as if it were by your contending, whether I, or Apollo, or Cephas were the best preachers, without naming those, as I might do, who are the true causes of these divisions, by striving who should be thought men of the greatest and brightest parts. --- That in us, and by our example, who have no such proud disputes, you might learn that one be not puffed up against the other, and above that which is written, against the admonitions given in the holy Scriptures of being humble: or against what I have now written to you, that we must strive for nothing, but to be the faithful ministers of God, and not seek the esteem of men. (Witham) --- It is the opinion of St. Thomas Aquinas and likewise of Estius, that St. Paul, Apollo, and Cephas were not the real causes of the divisions that existed amongst the new converts at Corinth, but that in making use of these names, he wished to teach them, that if it was unlawful to keep up these divisions even for the sake of the apostles, how far should they be from doing any thing of this kind for those whose authority was much less in the Church. But Calmet is of opinion, that the divisions amongst the Corinthians were certainly on account of Paul, Apollo, Cephas, and perhaps some others, whose names are not mentioned.

7 For who distinguisheth thee? And what hast thou that thou hast not received? And if thou hast received, why dost thou glory as if thou hadst not received?

Ver. 7. For who distinguisheth, or hath distinguished thee from another? He speaks particularly to those proud, vain preachers: if thou hast greater talents than another man, who hath given them to thee, or to any one, but God, who is the giver, and the author of every gift and perfection? This is not only true of the gift of preaching, but of all gifts and graces; so that St. Augustine makes use of it in several places against the Pelagians, to shew that it is by grace only, that one man is preferred before another, and not by, or for his own merits. (Witham)

8 Now you are satiated, now you are become rich: you reign without us: and I would to God you did reign, that we also might reign with you.

Ver. 8. Now you are satiated, &c. You great, vain preachers, you are rich in every kind, blessed with all gifts, &c. You reign over the minds of the people, without us, you stand not in need of our assistance. And I would to God you did reign, that we also might reign with you. I wish your reigning and governing the people were well grounded on virtue and truth, that we might be sharers of the like happiness. St. Chrysostom takes notice, that St. Paul speaks thus, meaning the contrary, by the figure called irony: and so also St. Chrysostom understands the two following verses, as if St. Paul only represented what those vain preachers said with contempt of him, as if he were only an apostle of an inferior rank, not one of the chief, nor of the twelve. And when he says, we are fools for Christ's sake, but you are wise: it is certain the apostles were not fools, nor these preachers whom he blames, wise, especially in Christ. But though the apostle partly use this figure of irony, intermixing it in his discourse, yet he also represents the condition of all true apostles, and preachers of Christ crucified, whose persons and doctrine were slighted, ridiculed, and laughed at by men that were wise only with worldly wisdom, especially by profane libertines, and atheistical men, that make a jest of all revealed religion. To go about preaching in hunger, in thirst, in nakedness, in want, under afflictions and persecutions, is what they think is to be miserable: they despise such men as the out-cast, the dross,[1] and the dregs of mankind. (See the Greek text.) (Witham) --- He speaks to the Corinthians, who forgetting their first fervour, and the Christian modesty which St. Paul had taught them, both by word and example, were endeavouring to distinguish themselves by the reputation and honour of the apostle, who had converted them, by their antiquity of faith, and by other things more frivolous. (Calmet)

Note 1:

Ver. 8. Tanquam purgamenta, omnium peripsema, os perikatharmata, Sordes, quisquiliæ, panton peripsema, Scobes, ramentum. See Mr. Legh, Crit. Sacra.

9 For I think that God hath set forth us apostles the last, as men condemned to death: because we are made a spectacle to the world, and to Angels, and to men.

Ver. 9. Made a spectacle. It is evident from the writings of St. Paul, and from innumerable other records, that the apostles were made a spectacle to the world and to men; but how, some one may perhaps ask, were they made a spectacle to angels? St. Chrysostom, Theod. [Theodoret?], and many others think, that the apostle is here speaking of the good angels, who behold with pleasure the labours and afflictions of the saints, knowing that it will prove a source of glory; but Estius, Vat. [Vatable?], and some others, are of opinion, that the wicked angels are here spoken of, who rejoice at the persecutions of God's servants, and wish to revenge themselves for the destruction of their empire.

10 We are fools for Christ's sake, but you are wise in Christ: we are weak, but you are strong; you are honourable, but we without honour.

Ver. 10. No explanation given.

11 Even unto this hour we both hunger, and thirst, and are naked, and are buffeted, and have no fixed abode;

Ver. 11. No explanation given.

12 And we labour, working with our own hands: we are reviled, and we bless: we are persecuted, and we suffer it.

Ver. 12. No explanation given.

13 We are slandered, and we intreat: we are made as the refuse of this world, the off-scouring of all even till now.

Ver. 13. No explanation given.

14 I write not these things to confound you: but I admonish you as my dearest children:

15 For if you have ten thousand instructors in Christ, yet not many fathers. For in Christ Jesus I have begotten you by the gospel:

16 Wherefore, I beseech you, be ye followers of me, as I also am of Christ.

17 For this cause have I sent to you Timothy, who is my dearest son, and faithful in the Lord: who will put you in mind of my ways, which are in Christ Jesus, as I teach every where in every church.

Ver. 14-17. I write not. St. Paul here insinuates to the Corinthians, that they ought to blush with shame for neglecting the apostles, who had suffered so many hardships for them, to follow after teachers void of honour, and to glory in being called the disciples of such men. (Estius) --- I admonish you as my dearest children, of what is for your good, and I may take this liberty, as being your spiritual father in Christ, by whom you were first made Christians. Be ye followers of me, as I also am of Christ: follow the doctrine of Christ, which I follow, and taught you. Timothy, my beloved son in the Lord, whom I send to you, will put you in mind of what I teach, and of what I practise. (Witham)

18 Some are so puffed up, as though I would not come to you.

19 But I will come to you shortly, if the Lord will: and I will know, not the speech of them who are puffed up, but the power.

20 For the kingdom of God is not in speech, but in power.

21 What will you? shall I come to you with a rod; or in charity, and in the spirit of meekness?

Ver. 18. &c. Some of those new doctors and preachers are so puffed up, that they pretend I dare not come to you any more, nor defend myself: he may also mean the man that lived in incest, his companions and his flatterers. --- But I will come to you shortly, and then I shall use my authority in taking notice of their vain talk, they shall find and experience that power, which God hath given me by the gifts of the Holy Ghost, and of working miracles. (Witham) --- But I will come. The good effect which this letter produced amongst the Corinthians retarded his intended journey, so that he did not go to Corinth till one or two years after this letter was written. He wrote his second epistle to the same before he paid them a visit, to apply a soothing remedy to their minds and hearts, sorely afflicted with his charitably severe corrections contained in this his first epistle. (Haydock) --- What will you; or what disposition shall I find in you? let it not be necessary for me to use the chastising rod by excommunications, and other spiritual arms, but be so reformed before I come, that I may come to you in the spirit of mildness, as I wish to do. (Witham)

[bookzofkelz]

1. Vassa in the Night by Sarah Porter (Jan 2017) 2. Outlander by Diana Gabaldon 3. Caraval by Stephanie Garber (Feb 2017) 4. They Mostly Come Out At Night by Benedict Patrick 5. Tananmount by Thomas J. Radford 6. A Darker Shade of Magic by V.E. Schwab 7. A Gathering of Shadows by V.E. Schwab

1. 1984 by George Orwell

2. A Darker Shade of Magic by V.E. Schwab (Feb 2017)

3. Gurnesy Sweet Potato Society, Perks of Being a Wallflower, House of Leaves, Bridget Jones's Diary, Flowers of Algernon, The Historian, Cloud Atlas, Daddy-Long-Legs, Attachments, Dear Mr. Knightly,

4. TBD

5. TBD

6. "Boy, Snow, Bird", Winter's Bone, Drums of Autumn, Winter's Tales

7. They Mostly Come Out at Night by Benedict Patrick (Feb. 2017)

8. Good Omens, Will Grayson, Dash & Lily's Book of Dares, Welcome to Night Vale, Illuminae

9. The Rook, Bourne Identity, Casino Royale, The Da Vinci Code

10. Cat Sense, Dewey, Simon's Cat, I Am Pusheen the Cat, Time Cat, Into the Goddess's Hands, A Mango-Shaped Space, Catalyst

11. A Gathering of Shadows by V.E. Schwab (Feb 2017)

12. Me Before You, All the Light We Cannot See, The Alchemist, The 5 Love Language, John Dies at the End, Heart-Shaped Box, Let the Right One In, The Passage, World War Z, Horns,

13. Six of Crows, Wonder, All the Bright Places, The Foxhole Court, The Rosie Project, The Lightning Thief,

14. Tantamout by Thomas J. Radford (Feb 2017)

15. The Hobbit, Alanna: The First Adventure

16. Caraval by Stephanie Garber (Feb 2017)

17. The Golem and the Jinni, The Scorpio Races, LOTR, The Hobbit, Fantastic Beasts, Two Years Eight Months and Twenty-Eight Nights, Nights at the Circus,

18. TBD

19. Voracious

20. The Devil Wears Prada, Girlboss, Very Good Lives, Make Good Art,  You Are a Badass, Bossypants, Year to a Writing Life,

21. The Bees, The Left Hnad of Darkness, Stars and Ashes?

22. Metaltown, Clockwork Angels, Soulless, Boneshaker, The Difference Engine, The Watchmaker of Filigree Street, Ticker, Airborn,  The Court of the Air by Stephen Hunt,

23. Diabloic, A Tyranny of Petticoats: 15 Stories of Belles, Bank Robbers & Other Badass Girls, Water of Elephants, Lock In by John Scalzi, Red Rising,

24. Station Eleven, Wild, Serena by Rash, The Last One

25. TBD

26. Lagoon

27. Vassa in the Night by Sarah Porter (Jan. 2017)

28. Gone with the Wind, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, The Book Thief, Memoirs of a Geisha, Outlander, World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War, The War of the Worlds, Ender's Game, Illuminae

29. Life of Pi, A Clockwork Orange, The Catcher in the Rye, Lolita, Wuthering Heights, Challenge Deeper, Bone Gap,

30. Illustrated HP, Hugo, The Marvels

31. TBD

32. Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me?, Kendrick, Felicia Day, Amy Polter, "Liar, Temptress, Soldier, Spy", My Life in France,

33. Outlander, The Time-Traveler's Wife, Doomsday Book, Kindred, The Anubis Gate

34. Tuesdays with Morrie,

35. The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, The Inn BoonsBoro Trilogy, The Dollhouse by Fiona Davis,

36. Very Good Live, Neil Gaiman, The World According to Mister Rogers: Important Things to Remember, Carrie Fisher,

37. A Wrinkle in Time, All the Bring Places, An Ember in the Ashes, The Gunslinger, A Monster Calls, Graceling, Hidden Figures,

38. The Halloween Tree, White Teeth, Dark Harvest, A Long Way Down,

39. Mortal Engines, The Paper Magician,

40. TBD

41. The Third Watchman, Archer's Goon by Diana Wynne Jones, “The Sorcerer’s House,” by Gene Wolfe,

42. The Little Paris Bookshop, Heartless, Six of Crows, Scythe, Cursed Child, Thirteen Reasons Why,

43. How a Mother Weaned Her Girl from Fairy Tales, Daughter of Smoke and Bone, Peaches for Father Francis

44. A Man Called Ove, The Glass Castle, One Hundred Years of Solitude, Moloka'i

45. The Namesake, The Joy Luck Club, White Teeth, The Immigrants, The House on Mango Street, Middlesex, American Street

46. Hard Fantasy} Mistborn, Rivers of London,      Sword and Planet} A Princess of Mars      Gaslamp Fantasy} His Majesty's Dragons, Infernal Devices by Clare, The Magician's and Mrs. Quent      Postcyber Punk} The Diamond Age by Stephenson, Daemon by Daniel Suarez      Biopunk} The Wind up Girl, Leviathan Trilogy, Xenogenesis by Butler      Clockpunk} Whitechapel Gods by S. M. Peters, Mainspring by Jay Lake      Solarpunk} TBD

47. Sherlock, To Kill a Mockingbird, Library of Lost Souls, Discworld

48. Outlander by Diana Gabaldon (Jan 2017) 

49. Catcher in the Rye 50. Gravity's Rainbow, Infinite Jest, Carry On,  Songs of Innocence and of Experience

51. TBD

52. American Gods, Percy Jackson,

1. TBD

2. Caraval by Stephanie Garber (Feb 2017)

3. The Book Thief, The Book of Speculation, The Book of Lost Things, Fangirl, Fahrenheit 451, Ink and Bone, The Little Paris Book Shop, Matilda, Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore, The Neverending Story, The Shadow of the Wind, The Thirteenth Tale, The Novel Cure

4.One Hundred Years of Solitude, Love in the Time of Cholera, City of Beasts by Isabel Allende, The House on Mango Street,

5. The House on Mango Street, Middlesex, The Namesake, The Kite Runner, White Teeth, Extremly Loud and Incredibly Close, The Girl With Ghost Eyes, Angela's Ashes, American Street

6. Lumberjanes,

7. Wonderful Wizard of OZ, Gone with the Wind, The Jungle, And Then There Were None, The Secret Garden, The Hobbit, 1984, The Wind in the Willows, Murder on the Orient Express, I Capture the Castle, Anne of Green Gables, Hemingway?, Peter Pan, A Little Princess, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, The FOuntainhead, Of Mice and Men, The Maltese Falcon,

8. Eat Pray Love, Wild, A Walk in the Woods, My Life in France, Seven Years in Tibet,

9. Night Circus, ACOTAR, ACOMAF, TOG, The Hobbit, LOTR, Alanna, Black Jewels, Graceling, HP, Howl's Moving Castle, Kushiel's, Luck in the Shadows, Sunshine,

10. TBD

11. Elegance of the Hedgehog, The Palace of Illusions by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni, Lagoon,

12. Every Heart a Doorway, We Awaken by Calista Lynne, Quicksilver, Deadly Sweet Lies, The Beast of Callaire, The Ghost Bride, A Tyranny of Petticoats, And I Darken, The Dark Days Club, The Diviners, Etiquette & Espionage, The Friday Society, The Falconer, The Girl from Everywhere, The Clockwork Angel, Grave Mercy, Levaithan, Monstrumologist, My Lady Jane, Newt's Emerald, Ruby Red, A Shadow Bright and Burning, Silver in the Blood, Steel, The Crown's Game, These Vicious Masks, The Wrath and the Dawn, Walk on Earth a Stranger, This Dark Endeavor Wolf by Wolf, Ash, Bloody Chamber, Assassin's Apprentice, The Crystal Cave, Boneshaker, Daughter of Smake and Bone, An Ember in the Ashes, Doomsday Book, Flesh and Spirit, His Majesty's Dragon, Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell, The Killing Moon, Mr Fox, The Queen of Tearling, Rosemary and Rue, Sorcerer to the Crown, Soulless, Station Eleven, Swordpoint, Swamplandia

13. TBD

14. The Postmistress, All the Light We Cannot See, The Periodic Table by Primo Levi, The Kindly Ones by Jonathan Littell, The Gurnsey Literary and..., The Book Thief by Markus Zusak, "Liar, Temptress, Soldier Spy" by Karen Abbott

15. Sidekick one/Superhero ones, Adaptation, The Huntress, Schwab

16. The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian (2007) by Sherman Alexie, Maus, Bone, Saga, The Satanic Verses by Salman Rushdie, Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov, Catcher in the Rye,

17. TBD

18. Kindred, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings,

19. TBD

20. Drawn Together,

21. TBD

22. The Bloody Chamber by Angela Carter, Changing Planes by Ursula K. Le Guin, Vampires in the Lemon Grove by Karen Russell

23. TBD

24. TBD

[profgandalf]

Can Humor Be Holy?

A few years ago I was disturbed by an idea presented in Milan Kundera’s Book of Laughter and Forgetting. "Laughter” he writes “belongs to the devil because laughter happens when the meaning of things is subverted."  Now I, as a Christian, want to believe--in contrast to this--that laughter is firmly in the domain of Heaven because “all good things come from Him” (James 1: 17).  (Also I love to laugh although my enjoyment of something is hardly a measure of its healthfulness. I love coffee but doubt it will be in Heaven.) Still. if you’ve read my article about “Hallowing Halloween,” you know that my central argument is that Halloween should be used by Christian to mock the claims of supernatural power claimed by Satan and his followers.

Kundera has a Point:

That all being said, I must admit Kundera’s point.  Humor functions to undermine, to tear down, to prick someone’s bubble, to reveal the weakness of a position or stance.  That’s what it does: it points to the absurd and holds it up for ridicule. “All comedy,” according to John Cleese, “is critical.”  (For an excellent exposition on this see this short video in which he is featured.) This, however, may make many of us uncomfortable. First off we know that humor has been used to destroy or at least devalue what many of us thought of as being sacrosanct.  Sexual purity, love of country, the role of the father within the family are all concepts which have been held up for ridicule in contemporary comic media.  It should be noted that these ideas do not lose support because they are intrinsically weak but because there are so many who espoused them who were less than successful.  Their foolishness gave the humor a recognition of truth. Ralph Kramden, Fred Flintstone or Peter Griffin when bellowing that he is the head of the house is all the more absurd since each represents a class of men who may claim that without fulfilling it. Furthermore in argument the rhetorical tool of mockery is recognized as profoundly effective even when there reason provides little to advance a cause.  

”Senator, Your No Jack Kennedy”

Witness the famous line “"Senator, you're no Jack Kennedy."   This put-down was a remark made during the 1988 United States vice-presidential debate by Democratic vice-presidential candidate Sen. Lloyd Bentsen to Republican vice-presidential candidate Sen. Dan Quayle.  It was devastating and yet in no way met the actual observations Quayle was making.  

Still as noted by Wikipedia “Bentsen's comment was played and replayed by the Democrats in their subsequent television ads as an announcer intoned: "Quayle: just a heartbeat away." It proved sure-laugh fodder for comedians, and more and more editorial cartoons depicted Quayle as a child (Saturday Night Live actually used a child actor to portray Quayle in several sketches.” (”Senator, Your No Jack Kennedy”)

Isn’t it Just Mean?

Many people of faith also wonder if tearing things down fits into the life-style consecrated to holiness a life-style supposedly epitomized by love, a goal that all serious believers are supposed to be aspiring towards.  Isn’t laughter, they wonder “by its very critical nature mean?” The reader may recall Buzz Lightyear’s suspicious confusion in Toystory, when facing Woody’s laughter over him not realizing he’s not a Space Ranger, not living in a world where aliens exist. “Your mocking me aren’t you?”  He doesn’t lie it and I for one felt a little bad for him.

(Side Note: My family finds this scene especially hysterical, pointing at me since apparently I periodically miss the ludicrousness I am revealing in my own behavior.) 

“Clueless Buzz” as the creators of the Toystory series call him does have his world crash down upon him and it is traumatic.  But the fact is that the befuddlement depicted is that of anyone who does not realize that he or she is being absurd. He is guilt of affectation not from hypocrisy but from ignorance.

Henry Fielding says that humor should be used to mock individuals out of affectation so that they will be better people.  But that means that the motivation of the comic must be wholesome.  What may be of some concern Buzz’s case is that the humor is not being used to improve him, but is instead being used by Woody to bring him down.  Oh sure he’s delusional and one can argue that having a true understanding of one’s self is vital for effective living (“You ARE a toy!”) But what is the real final intent of the mockery?  To put him in his place.

Keep in mind that in this scene Woody is using humor as a weapon against the toy who has replaced him in his high post in Andy’s affections as well as his room.  So does Buzz deserves this treatment because of his arrogance and self delusion?  It is interesting to note that in the film Woody finds himself cast out of Andy’s room because his own dark agenda is revealed.  And this “weaponization” is perhaps the point. 

Humor is a Weapon

Weapons are not always evil.  As a gun owner I affirm this. But they are always weapons. If gun can be used to stop evil perhaps wholesome humor, exists because some ideas deserve to be shown to be the absurdities they are. As I said in my article of Halloween, Satan’s Rebellion is a doomed farce and he knows it. But the struggle against evil requires weapons.  So, like it or not, humor is a weapon and perhaps a necessary one.

But when or how does one use a weapon?  Potentially a consciousness comedian might be like a consciousness objector.  The later asks “Can one use deadly force to do good?”  The first should wonder “Is it suitable to hold up others or things up for scorn?” Humor, it must be remembered, is a kind of force, a potentially dangerous one. It has recognized as such since ancient times.  However I affirm that it can be used in this way and still be Holy. Others may feel differently just as good people disagree with me about guns.

Weapons Must Be Used with Care

In the Stanford online Encyclopedia of Philosophy  John Morreall in his article on the “Philosophy of Humor” reminds readers that while “Aristotle considered wit a valuable part of conversation (Nicomachean Ethics 4, 8), he [also] agreed with Plato that laughter expresses scorn. 

Wit, he says in the Rhetoric (2, 12), is educated insolence. In the Nicomachean Ethics (4, 8) he warns that ‘Most people enjoy amusement and jesting more than they should … a jest is a kind of mockery, and lawgivers forbid some kinds of mockery—perhaps they ought to have forbidden some kinds of jesting.’  Morreall goes on to say “These objections to laughter and humor influenced early Christian thinkers, and through them later European culture” (”The Philosophy of Humor--Humor’s Bad Reputation.) 

This may explain why a blogger when posting an analysis of the concept of the laughing Jesus completely admits that the whole concept of a laughing Jesus is actually a “newish” concept (Check out Happy Jesus, Part 1:  ) He even goes on to quote  G.K. Chesterton

“There was some one thing that was too great for God to show us when He walked upon our earth; and I have sometimes fancied that it was His mirth.”  -G. K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy (1908)

Did Jesus laugh as the above opening painting suggest?  But at what?  Would he find anyone falling on a banana peel funny or would his empathy always make him go “aww” when a disciple missteped on the rocky Roman roads of the Holy Land? Did he think that watching Peter bubbling in the water as he sank under his own doubt hysterical?  I do, but did He? What about the look of incredulity of his disciples’ faces when he revealed himself as alive after stopping from the road to Emmaus?  And do you find the images of a teethy Christ which I found when looking for this article’s main painting, a bit creepy?  I confess I did.

This brings up another aspect of humor separate from the recognition of it as a powerful weapon.  

Humor is Often at Odds with Cultural Norms and Culture Shapes How We See It

Part of our discomfort of Holy Humor (and Jesus finding us funny) is that laughter has very little to do with how we traditionally view Christ.  Cultural expectations are powerful.   And understanding culture is a vital when talking about humor.

The aforementioned Kundera, for example, started life under the repressive regime of Communist Czechoslovakia, a nation at the time ruled by a system in which the authorities claimed to be good but crushed any who apposed it.  Any humorous criticism of the state would be branded as evil, a stance he personally embraced.  Thus, he is by inclination wanting to side with the rebellious.

Orthodoxy maintenance never has a sense of humor. (In another novel, The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Kundera presents a character named  Sabina who admits to her distaste for parades, explains her feelings as being because in her Communist past children were forced to parade.  This stands in contrast to her all her western friends who love parades both official and for causes.) In The Book of Laughter and Forgetting Kundera sees the forces of Heaven as not being specifically always supporting the good but as powers which are concerned with maintaining God’s creation.  Thus, they are always by nature preserving never tearing down. Heaven keeps rules, Hell breaks them.  The trouble for us here on Earth is that we know that there are some rules which need to be broken.This is not an especially new idea

Kundera, in some ways, is articulating the ideas of the 17th century British poet William Blake who saw the active, dynamic poet organically as being rebellious in contrast to those in culture who are submissive and sedative as being Godly.  Specifically he was trying to explain why for many readers Milton in Paradise Lost is so compelling but somehow is less so in Paradise Regained:

The reason Milton wrote in fetters when he wrote of Angels & God, and at liberty when of Devils & Hell, is because he was a true Poet and of the Devil's party without knowing it. (The Marriage of Heaven and Hell ca. 1790–93)

The trouble then comes down to the basic assumption that goodness is supposed to be non-aggressiveness, submissive, and un-confrontational, but does any of that actually describe Christ?  The answer is a resounding no. 

Humor a Weapon in A Holy War

I will concede that humor, like any weapon, can be misused.  I have seen it done so.  I will also admit that humor has been an effective tool to make me laugh at what I should not.  Sexual promiscuity is destructive and making jokes about the break down of a family’s moral structure should not be funny.  However none of that takes away from the profoundly healthful and important role holy humor has in our world.  It is a weapon against darkness.

Henry Fielding began his ground-breaking work (today called “a novel”) on a belief in the moral value of humor.  In his Preface to Joseph Andrews, part of his first great comic novel, Fielding argues for the moral importance of humor--tying it in to what he as a neo-Augustine would have considered the height of art, the classics,  He describes his work as  the “Comic Epic in Prose.”  He makes it clear that for him there is only one worthy target for humor, that of human folly in affectation:

The only source of the true Ridiculous (as it appears to me) is affectation. But tho’ it arises from one spring only, when we consider the infinite streams into which this one branches, we shall presently cease to admire at the copious field it affords to an observer. Now affectation proceeds from one of these two causes; vanity, or hypocrisy: for as vanity puts us on affecting false characters, in order to purchase applause; so hypocrisy sets us on an endeavour to avoid censure by concealing our vices under an appearance of their opposite virtues. and tho’ these two causes are often confounded, (for they require some distinguishing;) yet, as they proceed from very different motives, so they are as clearly distinct in their operations: for indeed, the affectation which arises from vanity is nearer to truth than the other; as it hath not that violent repugnancy of nature to struggle with, which that of the hypocrite hath.

And so Fielding perhaps best calls the best of what Holy Humor is.  It is a weapon that should be aimed at the folly we all carry within us.  Cleese in the above cited video mentions what he calls the most inclusive of jokes; “How Does one make God laugh?  Answer: Tell him your iron clad plans.”  CS Lewis in his epistolary novel The Screwtape Letters (which Cleese actually performed in the audio book version of) indented his “book as a fairly humorous work, Lewis's goals included both reflections on the nature of evil and an effort to create a different portrayal of the Devil than the sort normally seen in pop culture. Screwtape has practically No Sense of Humor himself, and comes across as a sort of cranky cosmic killjoy” (TV Tropes “Screwtape letters”)  Humor is a great weapon which is especially dramatized as Screwtape in a rage at being a source of entertainment to the patient’s love interest (the kind of woman who would find ME funny) turns himself into a worm.. In Christ’s hands and in ours humor should be used to laugh us out of our own folly and the diabolical forces who attempt to use it.

[bookzofkelz]

I have spent the last few days organizing this for the initial run of reading! I have to still add some in places. Also, I’m trying to keep my book buying to a minimum, so *fingers crossed* that I can find these for free or at the library! 

And as an addition to this year, a group of friends wanted to try reading some of the book to movies coming out this year. We shall see how that goes since I know there’s at least one I don’t want to read.

1. The Bookshop on the Corner, The Inventor’s Secret by Andrea Cremer, Take Back the Skies by Lucy Saxon, Sea of Poppies, Carry On, Camelot Burning by Kathryn Rose, Sandry's Book by Tamora Pierce, His Majesty’s Dragon, Malice, A Wizard of Earthsea,

2. TBD

3. Gurnesy Sweet Potato Society, Perks of Being a Wallflower, House of Leaves, Bridget Jones's Diary, Flowers of Algernon, The Historian, Cloud Atlas, Daddy-Long-Legs, Attachments, Dear Mr. Knightly,

4. TBD

5. TBD

6. Winter of the Gods, "Boy, Snow, Bird", Winter's Bone, Drums of Autumn, Winter's Tales

7. Fangirl, The Thirteenth Tale, The Princess Bride, The Name of the Wind, A Monster Calls, The Wrath & the Dawn, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay

8. Good Omens, Will Grayson, Dash & Lily's Book of Dares, Welcome to Night Vale, Illuminae

9. The Rook, Bourne Identity, Casino Royale, The Da Vinci Code

10. Cat Sense, Dewey, Simon's Cat, I Am Pusheen the Cat, Time Cat, Into the Goddess's Hands, A Mango-Shaped Space, Catalyst

11. Cuckoo's Calling, The Bad Beginning by Lemony Snicket, Kenyon's

12. Me Before You, All the Light We Cannot See, The Alchemist, The 5 Love Language, John Dies at the End, Heart-Shaped Box, Let the Right One In, The Passage, World War Z, Horns,

13. Six of Crows, Wonder, All the Bright Places, The Foxhole Court, The Rosie Project, The Lightning Thief,

14. American Gods, The Glass Sentence, The Road, Great North Road, The Sun Also Rises,

15. The Hobbit, Alanna: The First Adventure

16. A Court of Wings and Ruin, Caraval, A Conjuring of Light,

17. The Golem and the Jinni, The Scorpio Races, LOTR, The Hobbit, Fantastic Beasts, Two Years Eight Months and Twenty-Eight Nights, Nights at the Circus,

18. TBD

19. Voracious

20. The Devil Wears Prada, Girlboss, Very Good Lives, Make Good Art,  You Are a Badass, Bossypants, Year to a Writing Life,

21. The Bees, The Left Hnad of Darkness, Stars and Ashes?

22. Metaltown, Clockwork Angels, Soulless, Boneshaker, The Difference Engine, The Watchmaker of Filigree Street, Ticker, Airborn,  The Court of the Air by Stephen Hunt,

23. Diabloic, A Tyranny of Petticoats: 15 Stories of Belles, Bank Robbers & Other Badass Girls, Water of Elephants, Lock In by John Scalzi, Red Rising,

24. Station Eleven, Wild, Serena by Rash, The Last One

25. TBD

26. Lagoon

27. Dracula, Matilda, Jane Eyre, Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe, Coraline, Eragon, Mary Poppins, Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda, Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell

28. Gone with the Wind, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, The Book Thief, Memoirs of a Geisha, Outlander, World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War, The War of the Worlds, Ender's Game, Illuminae

29. Life of Pi, A Clockwork Orange, The Catcher in the Rye, Lolita, Wuthering Heights, Challenge Deeper, Bone Gap,

30. Illustrated HP, Hugo, The Marvels

31. TBD

32. Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me?, Kendrick, Felicia Day, Amy Polter, "Liar, Temptress, Soldier, Spy", My Life in France,

33. Outlander, The Time-Traveler's Wife, Doomsday Book, Kindred, The Anubis Gate

34. Tuesdays with Morrie,

35. The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, The Inn BoonsBoro Trilogy, The Dollhouse by Fiona Davis,

36. Very Good Live, Neil Gaiman, The World According to Mister Rogers: Important Things to Remember, Carrie Fisher,

37. A Wrinkle in Time, All the Bring Places, An Ember in the Ashes, The Gunslinger, A Monster Calls, Graceling, Hidden Figures,

38. The Halloween Tree, White Teeth, Dark Harvest, A Long Way Down,

39. Mortal Engines, The Paper Magician,

40. TBD

41. The Third Watchman, Archer's Goon by Diana Wynne Jones, “The Sorcerer’s House,” by Gene Wolfe,

42. The Little Paris Bookshop, Heartless, Six of Crows, Scythe, Cursed Child, Thirteen Reasons Why,

43. How a Mother Weaned Her Girl from Fairy Tales, Daughter of Smoke and Bone, Peaches for Father Francis

44. A Man Called Ove, The Glass Castle, One Hundred Years of Solitude, Moloka'i

45. The Namesake, The Joy Luck Club, White Teeth, Th Immigrants, The House on Mango Street, Middlesex

46. Hard Fantasy} Mistborn, Rivers of London,       Sword and Planet} A Princess of Mars       Gaslamp Fantasy} His Majesty's Dragons, Infernal Devices by Clare, The Magician's and Mrs. Quent       Postcyber Punk} The Diamond Age by Stephenson, Daemon by Daniel Suarez       Biopunk} The Wind up Girl, Leviathan Trilogy, Xenogenesis by Butler       Clockpunk} Whitechapel Gods by S. M. Peters, Mainspring by Jay Lake       Solarpunk} TBD

47. Sherlock, To Kill a Mockingbird, Library of Lost Souls, Discworld

48. A Game of Thrones, Gone with the Wind, Shogun, Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, The Divine Comedy, Eye of the World

49. Catcher in the Rye 50. Gravity's Rainbow, Infinite Jest, Carry On,  Songs of Innocence and of Experience

51. TBD

52. American Gods, Percy Jackson,

1. TBD

2. Homecoming, To Kill a Mockingbird, Time-Traveler's Wife, Catcher in the Rye

3. The Book Thief, The Book of Speculation, The Book of Lost Things, Fangirl, Fahrenheit 451, Ink and Bone, The Little Paris Book Shop, Matilda, Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore, The Neverending Story, The Shadow of the Wind, The Thirteenth Tale, The Novel Cure

4.One Hundred Years of Solitude, Love in the Time of Cholera, City of Beasts by Isabel Allende, The House on Mango Street,

5. The House on Mango Street, Middlesex, The Namesake, The Kite Runner, White Teeth, Extremly Loud and Incredibly Close, The Girl With Ghost Eyes, Angela's Ashes

6. Lumberjanes,

7. Wonderful Wizard of OZ, Gone with the Wind, The Jungle, And Then There Were None, The Secret Garden, The Hobbit, 1984, The Wind in the Willows, Murder on the Orient Express, I Capture the Castle, Anne of Green Gables, Hemingway?, Peter Pan, A Little Princess, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, The FOuntainhead, Of Mice and Men, The Maltese Falcon,

8. Eat Pray Love, Wild, A Walk in the Woods, My Life in France, Seven Years in Tibet,

9. Night Circus, ACOTAR, ACOMAF, TOG, The Hobbit, LOTR, Alanna, Black Jewels, Graceling, HP, Howl's Moving Castle, Kushiel's, Luck in the Shadows, Sunshine,

10. TBD

11. Elegance of the Hedgehog, The Palace of Illusions by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni, Lagoon,

12. Every Heart a Doorway, We Awaken by Calista Lynne, Quicksilver, Deadly Sweet Lies, The Beast of Callaire, The Ghost Bride, A Tyranny of Petticoats, And I Darken, The Dark Days Club, The Diviners, Etiquette & Espionage, The Friday Society, The Falconer, The Girl from Everywhere, The Clockwork Angel, Grave Mercy, Levaithan, Monstrumologist, My Lady Jane, Newt's Emerald, Ruby Red, A Shadow Bright and Burning, Silver in the Blood, Steel, The Crown's Game, These Vicious Masks, The Wrath and the Dawn, Walk on Earth a Stranger, This Dark Endeavor Wolf by Wolf, Ash, Bloody Chamber, Assassin's Apprentice, The Crystal Cave, Boneshaker, Daughter of Smake and Bone, An Ember in the Ashes, Doomsday Book, Flesh and Spirit, His Majesty's Dragon, Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell, The Killing Moon, Mr Fox, The Queen of Tearling, Rosemary and Rue, Sorcerer to the Crown, Soulless, Station Eleven, Swordpoint, Swamplandia

13. TBD

14. The Postmistress, All the Light We Cannot See, The Periodic Table by Primo Levi, The Kindly Ones by Jonathan Littell, The Gurnsey Literary and..., The Book Thief by Markus Zusak, "Liar, Temptress, Soldier Spy" by Karen Abbott

15. Sidekick one/Superhero ones, Adaptation, The Huntress,

16. The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian (2007) by Sherman Alexie, Maus, Bone, Saga, The Satanic Verses by Salman Rushdie, Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov, Catcher in the Rye,

17. TBD

18. Kindred, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings,

19. TBD

20. Drawn Together,

21. TBD

22. The Bloody Chamber by Angela Carter, Changing Planes by Ursula K. Le Guin, Vampires in the Lemon Grove by Karen Russell

23. TBD

24. TBD