#nothing quite makes me feel ANYTHING the way the raven cycle makes me feel | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

humanitysburrito · 4 years ago

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𖥸 - delirium

𑁤 SUMMARY; you and dabi reminisce on your friendship while you bleed out in his arms ᨟ PAIRING; f!reader x dabi ᨟ WARNINGS; 18+! smut, light bondage, angst, death, blood and wounds, language, outta char dabi? lol idc, dabi is toya todoroki ᨟ WC; 5k

authors note; this is the first fanfic I’ve ever written. I hope I wrote the whole y/n thing correctly. I debated on how to format the memories and reader quirk, and figured this looked and felt best. This originally was gonna be nothing but smut, but I do love me some sads. Comments are hella appreciated! Practice makes perfect and I will trust the process! (i put together the gif so you can pair it with the end uWu)

Wrong place, wrong time. There simply was no other way to put it. Seeking out Dabi while he was working had always been a dangerous game to play, but neither of you took the time to consider the possibility of friendly fire being your checkmate.

You found yourself stumbling through a vacant alleyway, praying to a higher power - if it existed - that Dabi was able to hear your pleas through the thick of the chaos. Your vision fuzzed into white cotton, prompting you to squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to clear the fog.

When you opened your eyes again, you threw your arms out towards your scarred lover, who was desperately sprinting towards you.

This was the first moment the word ‘love’ ever crossed your mind. The feelings you’ve had for Dabi over the past few years, especially in the last couple of months, have been ambivalent, to say the least. But right now, all you knew was him. All you could see was him. The nearly angelic image of his blue flames fanning out behind him - his tattered coat swaying in the wind. His body language was your gospel, and you were his resolve.

Your best friend.

Damn, you thought.

“Shit! Dabi..” Your fading voice trailed off into a light whisper as your ankles cracked underneath your weight. “I’m sorry.”

You could do nothing but apply pressure around the gaping, shredded hole that tore clear through your stomach. A dumpster broke your fall, and your body slid down to rest in a pool of your own blood.

Your quirk did little to restrain the Nomu that had charged in your direction just minutes earlier. Instead, it absorbed your power and released it instantaneously - piercing it right through you.

Blood oozed from your wound as you erupted into a fit of strained laughter.

Oh, how stupid must I look?

“I’m going out because of my own quirk! How anticlimactic!” Your words came out in a pitiful squeak absolutely littered with sarcasm as the remaining adrenaline in your body faded away.

What felt like a lifetime for you were mere seconds for Dabi as he reached for you, tripping over his feet before sitting down to pull your back flush against his chest, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. One of his palms rested along the side of your neck while the other cupped the side of your face in a vice grip.

“Shut up, y/n. You’re gonna be fine, yeah? Just breathe, doll.”

His heart was hammering wildly through his system despite his attempts to calm down and cool his body off. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, gently rubbing circles on the back your scalp - his first instinct to do whatever he could to make you comfortable.

“Don’t put me in limbo,” you said through gritted teeth as blood seeped out of your mouth. Dabi brought his legs around to hook over yours - similar to the way you two just started to cuddle. “We both know how this is going to end.”

And the both of you did. You’d be stupid not to, and Dabi knew that. He would enjoy this much more if you were a pro hero he could sadistically taunt as your life swayed in the balance. But you weren’t.

It would be easier if you were a comrade who unfortunately took a hit, who would go down forgotten and quickly replaced among the ranks. But you weren’t.

Right now, he wished you were anyone else.

“Quit talking like you’re gonna die, y/n!” He yelled into your skin as he erupted into a vicious cycle of shakes.

How the fuck did it come to this, what the fuck! His turquoise eyes strained forward, pulsing, and burning due to the tears he was unable to produce.

Dabi’s voice was laced with sorrow and regret. You had only heard it one other time, and the realization was the tipping point for you to finally cry. Salty water poured down your face as your mind began to cycle through the memories you’ve made with him.

Sweat pooled on your forehead as you drew closer to the man that was hunched over on the curb of your dirt driveway.

Through the darkness, you could see that he was covered in blood - all the way down his face and chest. Shiny, sharp pieces of metal sticking out from his skin glistened under the moonlight, and although you were still at least twelve feet away, the heat radiating off of him was enough to instantly make your clothes stick to your flesh.

As quiet as you tried to be with your movements, you were careless enough to kick some rocks up under your feet, earning you an icy glare from the man before you.

With one quick movement of his hand, ethereal blue flames roared from his palm in your direction but quickly dissipated into steam as he groaned into a state of incoherence and irrationality - the effects of your quirk.

You rose your hand, beckoning rusty chains to come forth from the earth and bind around him. He looked at you through the bloody strands of his raven hair - his turquoise eyes meeting your (e/c) irises that matched the billowing smoke coming from your quirk. The image in his eyes caused your heart to race. Anger and sorrow were swirling into your soul as he stared at you, but it was overpowered by a desperate plea for help as his eyes became lidded.

“Hell, dollface, you got a second?”

These were the first words Dabi ever spoke to you.

“You should have left me alone, y/n!” Dabi sobbed, leaving light kisses and nips along your ear, gently urging you to keep talking - about anything and everything.

You struggled against him to find a more comfortable position in his arms, shooting a hand up into his scarred flesh. He silently berated himself for letting you help him as much as you did.

Maybe then, he could have lived in a world blissfully unaware of your existence.

He choked on his tongue, his body falling limp against the ground as his aura erupted in a swelling mass of dust as your chains dissolved into the gravel. He passed out - falling face-first into the dirt.

You towered over his unconscious body and reached down, hooking your arms underneath his as you dragged him up your driveway towards your house, keeping him delirious with your quirk just in case he woke up. You brought forth more chains to keep him restrained in the bathroom connected to your garage. The sound of the lights buzzing on was enough to wake him up - snapping his head upright.

You had no choice but to let up on the delirium in an attempt to speak to him. As you knelt down to be level headed, his eyes never stopped following you. “Who are you?”

“You’re the one who has me chained up like a dog! Who the fuck are you?” His voice was strained and horse, exhaustion overpowering his vocal cords.

You raised your (h/c) eyebrows at his question, licking your teeth behind your lips, shaking your head as you stood up and pushed the bathroom door wide open. There was a clear shot through the garage towards the street you just plucked him off of.

“I’ll let you go then. You can make a run from here.” You calmly said, uninterested at his display of aggression. “If you try anything stupid, I’ll gladly tie you right back up and keep you here.” You looked down at him, your (h/c), (h/type) falling from behind your ear to the side of your face. “But let’s not forget who asked for a second of my time, dollface.”

“I forgot about that,” Dabi chuckled behind you. “Always using my own words against me.” A warm shiver trickled up your body as his breath steadied in your ear. “You know, I was just going to use you for some free food and a piece of ass before I left?”

You whispered, panting for air as a smirk painted your lips. “Did you get more than you bargained for?”

Dabi didn’t respond to you. He only squeezed your face closer into his chest as you felt his body jitter around you.

“So, what’s your name?”

There was a brief moment of silence before he answered your question.

He finally responded when you reached up to lightly dapple the blood away from under his scarred eyes.

“Dabi.”

“Hello, Dabi. My name is y/n. Do you make it a habit of passing out in people's yards?”

“Only the yards of pretty dolls like you.” Even through the blood and dirt and the satire in his voice - you notice the smirk on his face brighter than any other smile you had ever seen before.

You scoffed, blinking your thoughts away. “I’m sure you do, dollface.” His pride took a small hit at your attempts to use his words against him. Before he could respond, you pushed his head back into the bathtub and doused his hair in ice-cold water with your shower head.

“Oh, baby, how’d you know?” He managed to whisper in a moan, his hands clutching at his sides.

You couldn’t deny that this was the most exciting thing to happen to you in quite a while. You made your living by side hustling for heroes and villains - you didn’t care the cause as long as there was something beneficial for you in the long run. This was a wanted, and much-needed change of activity for you - the possible danger in it giving you a euphoric feeling your quirk never could.

“All jokes aside, Dabi, I’m glad I met you. Just being your friend has given me the best few years of my life. My only regret-,” you paused in a scream, the soft motions in his hands begging you to stop talking and save it for later, “-is that it took me this long to realize,” you whispered into the air, gritting your teeth and turning around against him the best you could to look at him. “I love you, you know.” Dabi froze, his arms becoming limp around you as he cradled your body.

His mind raced with every memory he’s ever had of the way you looked at him. The way you touched him, the way you took care of him. The way your fingertips gently worked their magic, repairing his weak constitution when he needed it the most.

You had been friends for a few years, and your relationship took its sweet fucking time to grow. His occasional visits for first aid eventually led to him crashing on your couch, to moving in as your elusive ‘never-home’ roommate. He enjoyed being around you because you weren’t a complete nuisance, and you were someone who chose to stay oblivious of his criminal activities.

The day he found out about your own indictments was when Tomura Shigaraki tried to recruit you one day while he was sipping whiskey at the bar.

“I’m sorry I’m late, I didn’t want to come.” The sound of your sneering voice made his ears perk up, and he shot around his bar seat to lock eyes with you.

Even though you declined Tomura’s offer, you came with your own contribution of intel that had a price. That night, you and Dabi stayed up drinking, chain-smoking, and sharing your thoughts and feelings about Stain’s ideology and the hypocrisy of pro-heroes.

Dabi wasn’t sure when he started to develop strange feelings for you. The three years of your friendship had turned into an intense myriad of passionate, sexual frustration that neither of you wanted to cave on. All he knew is that it was a slow, agonizing burn that eventually reached its termination.

If only you two hadn’t taken so long. If only it hadn’t been just last night.

You both somehow arrived home unscathed during a prep mission you decided to join him on because it had been weeks since you last saw each other. It ended with a massive rush of adrenaline coursing through your bodies - the teasing of who was actually the sidekick in the rare villainous scenarios you involved yourself in in flew out the window, and all you could see were equals as you stared into each other's eyes.

“If we do this, I might not be able to stop.” Dabi’s forehead was pressed against yours, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to your own. His words were coated in a sugary lacquer that rolled off his tongue, seemingly into your own mouth. Tears pooled in the corners of you (e/c) eyes - your mind hazy in a rush of anticipation and fear.

At this moment, you two felt like entirely different people - the exhilaration of a strange encounter filling your bodies with lust and excitement.

You needed him.

He needed you.

Dabi’s hand came around the back of your head and grasped at your hair, finally pushing your lips together for the first time in a cry of passion. Serotonin flooded his brain, his eyes opening halfway at the feeling of being absolutely wasted against your lips.

His mouth was warm - conflicting with his cold personality, but he tasted like cigarettes and cheap-ass whiskey - oh, my, you needed more.

The two of you were completely lost. Unaware of what the next step was as you kissed each other like a couple of love-struck teenagers for what felt like a lifetime.

His other hand eventually snaked up your side and underneath your shirt before palming his hand against the small of your back and pushing your body against him. Your hands reached to cup his face, your tongues dancing in a messy rhythm. You pulled away, saliva stringing and popping against his bottom lip. Dabi softly tilted you backward to rest your body on your couch as he climbed on top of you, his lips trailing down your jaw and neck while the cold steel on his face did little to chill the heat rising in your body.

“Da-bi,” your breath hitched in a moan as he nipped at the skin on your throat, your hands fisting his hair in frustration.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say my name like that, doll.” Dabi purred along your throat. “I’m going to make you say it over and over and over again.” His body slithered up to give you one last kiss before he sat up and removed his white shirt, tossing it over the side of the couch.

Your hands trailed along his abdomen, relishing in the feeling of his defined muscles and the cold bars on his nipples. He felt just as you thought he would, and the smell of charcoal and cologne brought you to a drunk reality - an indicator that you were not dreaming.

Your hands messily tried to undo the buckle on his belt, but he slapped them away. He reached down to kiss you again, his hands grabbing at your shirt and pulling it over your head.

Dabi looked down, seeing your nipples hardening underneath your bra. He bowed his head, struggling to keep his balance as a strange wave of guilt rushed through him. There was only one thing about you that he absolutely couldn’t stand - that you could make him feel things he’s never felt before.

It had taken three years to get to this point. What the fuck were you doing? The way you looked splayed out underneath him was nearly a forbidden sight.

“Y/n..” His words were lost as his eyes trailed along with your frame - ravenous hunger evident in his glassy orbs.

“No take backs. I have you right where I want you, so let’s finish what we started.” You reached up and pushed him down against you, capturing his lips in another heated kiss, grinding your hips against the twitching bulge in his pants. He felt you smile along his lips, reassuring the nervousness quelling inside his body.

Within seconds he had picked you up and sat down so you could straddle him. His hands caressed your waist and trickled all the way up to your bra that he quickly disposed of. His pierced tongue swirled around your swollen nipples, nibbling and sucking each one as he pushed your hips down harder, encouraging you to grind a little faster.

Your breath became ragged at the friction between your legs - your pussy practically gushing through your clothes and onto his pants. He pushed you away, leaving one hand on your side while the other unzipped your pants and slid a palm inside to rub along your clothed cunt. Your body shuddered as you threw your head back, leaning backwards to continue to grind as he stroked you teasingly. When he could feel your clit begin to swell and bulge out from your lips, he took the opportunity to sneak two fingers past your underwear and push inside you to beckon you towards him at high speed.

The sounds of your wet sex drenching his skin were almost too erotic for him to handle, and he ripped his hand out to bring it up to your face.

“Lick them clean.”

You did as you were told, taking each one of his digits into your mouth, swirling your tongue in a euphoric trance as you tried to replace what was missing between your legs with your own hand. Dabi snatched your wrist and held it against your thigh. “You don’t touch yourself unless I say so, dollface.”

“Yes, Dabi.” You replied, struggling to catch your breath. Dabi’s display of aggression and dominance was something you only dreamed of, and you needed more.

“Now, be a good girl and get on your knees for me?” The way he said it almost made you pass the fuck out - the demanding yet sensitive tone playing with your ears. It was not a question.

Once again, you followed instructions and sat on the floor. You spread his legs and positioned yourself as you unbuttoned his pants, smiling at his struggling erection, trying to spring free.

A gasp escaped from above you as you pulled his cock out, your hand wrapping perfectly around him. He watched you lick your lips with half-lidded eyes and instantly threw his head back at the feeling of your tongue tracing his head, down the underside of his shaft before licking back up and taking him into the back of your throat. He balled his fists into your soft, shiny (h/c) hair at the feeling and pumped ever so slightly to the rhythm you were still trying to find.

“Fuck, y/n.” The affirmation made you suck him deeper into your throat. Your watery eyes and gagging sounds encouraged him to force your nose down into his stubble as he set the pace and fucked into your mouth.

A feeling of white, hot fuzz started to form in his toes and up to his legs at the sight before him, causing him to rip you away from his cock with a ‘pop.’ “Look at you, dollface,” he cooed, smearing your saliva down your chin as you coughed and struggled to catch your breath. “Is this what you think about at night, hmm? Sucking my dick until you can’t breathe?” He teased, pushing his thumb between your lips to hook around your bottom teeth and pull you up with his index finger tightly fastened underneath your chin.

“Among other things,” you whispered before pulling him into another fiery kiss. His hands squeezed your waist, drawing your jeans down to leave you in nothing but your panties.

“Oh, well, if that’s the case, show me what comes next, babydoll,” Dabi growled as he picked you up and carried you off into your bedroom. He threw you on the bed and ripped off the useless, drenched fabric in between your legs.

The gravity of your situation set in. You were now completely naked in front of your best friend, for the very first time. And you sucked his dick. Oh, my god, I sucked his dick! Your face turned bright red in an embarrassing blush, your arms and legs balling up in an attempt to cover yourself.

“Y/n,” Dabi gently stopped you by crawling on top of you and cupping your face in his hands. “Don’t be shy. You have no idea how beautiful I find you, so let me show you, yeah?” He kissed you, this time it lasted longer than any. It felt different. Your heart strummed with a barrage of hot butterflies as his tongue ran across your teeth and pulled away to slither his body down to your dripping wet core.

“Oh, baby, look at this pretty little pussy.” The sight of your dripping wet, swollen cunt made Dabi want to completely ravage you right then and there. He could see you pulsating with need - wetness pouring down your legs. “You want me to do something about this, doll?”

All you could manage to do was moan in agreement as you lifted your head to give him permission to do anything he desired.

Dabi kissed your hips, down your thighs, so very close to giving you what you wanted. Your spine arched, perfectly, he thought.

He took your clit in-between two fingers, squeezing the bundle of nerves before giving you a quick lap with the tip of his tongue. The sound that escaped your lips was honest and excited him to the point of insanity. After a few seconds he lapped you again, using his tongue to toy with your folds before closing his lips around to suck on your engorged clit. You cried out, writhing in a fit of euphoria.

“Dabi! Oh - fuck, right there!” Dabi switched motions and took your clit into his mouth, sucking on it before using the tip of his tongue to relentlessly nick your swollen bud as it pressurized in his mouth. You were so wet that the entire bottom of his face was soaked, dripping down his chin and neck.

“I could devour you all night long, dollface, look at me.” Dabi wrapped his arm around your waist to prevent you from grinding your pussy in his mouth, pushing your body down into the bed. The minute you made eye contact with him, your orgasm skipped a few steps in the building process.

“You lick my pussy so fucking good - Dabi!” He raised his eyebrows at your reaction, and before you could finish in more ways than one, he pulled away, knocking the wind right out of your body while a cold chill crept up your spine.

“You’re gonna what?” Dabi teased as he rid himself of the rest of his clothes and positioned himself in between your legs, using the head of his cock to toy with the wet folds of your pussy before tapping your throbbing clit. You closed your eyes and tensed up, focusing because the rhythm was totally just enough to-

He pulled away, sitting back in satisfaction. You were speechless, your legs trembling in frustration. “I’ll ask you this again, y/n. What comes next?”

You were a shuddering, whimpering, melting mess at his words. The tone of Dabi’s voice was so erotic to your ears - and the way he spoke to you, so demanding, so sexy, you thought, was a way no one had ever spoken to you before. And you wanted more. You needed more.

“Mm,” You moaned, feeling like you were losing yourself to a darkness, and you were going to let it happen. “Touch me - make me yours. Fuck me, kiss me, just don’t stop, please!” He could tell you couldn’t take it anymore but something inside of him wanted to make this so much worse for you, to drag it out as long as possible.

You threw your head back, losing your reflexes to resist touching yourself.

Dabi snickered, leaning down to purr in your ear, pinning your hands above your head. “Be a good doll and beg for it, then.”

His words caused your lascivious desire to take over, and he was pushed back against your headboard, his arms and legs wrapped in the chains of your quirk. The chains snaked around the supports of your bed, leaving his cock wide open to do as you pleased. The delirium accompanied filled Dabi’s head with ecstasy, leaving him fully vulnerable to your advances. You climbed on top of him and sank your pussy down agonizingly slow to get used to his size. He threw his head back, moaning in a way that sent jolts straight to your sopping wet sex. With a wave of your hand, you banished the chains, looking at Dabi, who was clear-minded and perplexed.

“Wow.” Was all he could say as he gripped your hips and rammed up into you. “You wanna tie me up, is that it?” He said through gritted teeth as he kept you still, vigorously pumping into you. “You wanna have it your way, baby? You want me to shut up so you can fuck me like you want it done? Is this how you want it? Ugh, fuck!” Your skin turned red as his cock continued to massage your velvet lining, your liquid splashing with every thrust.

Your arms rose up and twined in your hair, your breasts bouncing in just the right way to drive him absolutely crazy. The room was filled with the wet noises of this long awaited night - the moans coming from both of you fulfilling the carnal desires deep within.

“Dabi, please let me come!”

He sat up, snaking an arm around your waist to throw you backwards. You locked eyes, both of you struggling to breathe, heaving for dear life. “You feel so good, doll, you like that cock, yeah?”

Dabi sat up on his knees, pulling your waist off of the bed so you were flush against him - his cock bottoming out as far as it could go. He used one hand under your back to keep you raised, and his other one to push your chest into the mattress.

He leaned over you for a brief moment to collide in a kiss - the best one of his life. With you. Only you.

You cried out as he fucked you and gave you everything you needed - everything he could think of giving you. Your hands trailed along his chest to keep him against you, wrapping your arms around his scarred neck to beg for more.

Dabi growled at the sensation rising in his body and ripped away from you, using both hands on your hips to viciously fuck into you - giving you pure, relentless, unadulterated ecstasy.

“Come all over my cock, dollface, do it! You know you want to.” Dabi brought his thumb to your clit, softly rubbing in wide, fast circles. The stimulation inside was matching perfectly with what he was offering your clit, filling your body with something deep and intense.

Dabi’s eyes widened at the feeling of constant streams of wetness, coating his cock and running down his legs. He smirked. “That’s it, y/n, you have permission.” Dabi, nearing his own release, started to shake and bite his lip. “You’re making such a fucking mess!” He growled and threw his head backward, his vision becoming hazy as he rolled his head on his shoulders.

“Da-bi, Dabi!” You screamed out in a lustful moan that was like candy to his ears.

“Yes, that’s it, say my fucking name!”

“I’m gonna cum-ah! Dabi!”

The sight before him was absolutely gorgeous - you - body flushed, drenched in sweat, writhing in rapture as your body exploded into a blended orgasm, your squirting pussy gripping him as you tried to milk him of his own release. But he was so focused on you that he delayed his own orgasm until you were at your tail end. Your body shuddered as he came inside of you, squeaking at the feeling of your pussy being filled with his warmth.

“Y/n,” Dabi moaned, leaning down to pull you in a warm embrace. Your fingers ran through his hair as he salted your neck and cheek with wet kisses and whispers of praise in your ear. “I could get used to this,” he softly growled into your ear, laying on his side to spoon you into him.

The lust and euphoria began to fade, and you two were left to cope with the left over feelings of what transpired. You rolled over, Dabi softly brushing the hair out of your face. This soft side of him was something you never thought he had in him and you wanted to cherish every second of it - not ruin it with a slew of unspoken questions and feelings. Instead, the two of you softly, and passionately kissed yourselves into an accidental sleep.

Both of you wished that you had stayed home to live another night like it. To feel your body cradled close to him - for both of you to experience more of what you had been putting off for so long.

“Keep going, y/n.” He urged you when you hadn’t said anything else, squeezing your shoulder with his arm.

But you were unable to speak anymore. The only sounds escaping were cracked whimpers.

He reached his head down in front of your face, a soft smile forming in the corner of your lips as your beautiful life left your eyes - your arms dropping to your sides as he gave you his final kiss. “I love you, doll.”

Those were the last words Dabi said to you.

He picked your body up and ran towards the little secluded place in the woods that he had learned to call home, and he filled the gap of your conversation with dozens of memories as if you were merely asleep in his arms. When he couldn’t physically go any further, he laid your body on the ground, and set every tree in sight ablaze before getting back to his task at hand.

He had to push you into the back of his mind along with the people he chose to forget about. With you, he had no choice but to forget. Another page torn from the story he was living. He put the walls he let you tear down back up, this time, forever.

Ultimately, he would never forget you. You gave him the first happy experience he’ll ever have, and with every move he continues to make, you will always play a part in them. No matter how hard he tries to forget.

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mae-gi-writes · 4 years ago

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Kevin Frost | Kevin Moon (The Boyz)

Summary ❄ Being sick every winter sucks, until winter itself decides to bring itself to you in the form of Kevin Frost.

Genre ❄ fluff, fantasy, inspired by Jack Frost (as per my beautiful @nyuwings request)

A/N ❄ for my lovely @nyuwings with whom I’ve bonded with so quickly I keep wondering whether we’re soulmates. Thank you for your presence and for just being you. Ily. ❤

° . · ❄ · . °

Sighing for the nth time, you placed your hands up against the window, palms turning icy cold as you took in the array of snowflakes floating to the ground. It was that time of the year again, a time that signified celebration as the town of Sleva would get covered in a blanket of what your brothers liked to call fairy dust. Snow would bathe the entire streets white and would glimmer in the light of the street lamps lining the streets. You could already spot the Christmas lights in variants of red and green and yellow gold strung across the main intersections, probably where the Christmas market would be. Right about that time merchants would line the streets with their wooden carts, shouting out about all the fresh sausages and special meats they’d offer for a good price for the festive season.

You knew Christmas season like the back of your hand. It was ironic then, that you were the only person not allowed out whenever Christmas and winter came around.

“You’re sick,” your mother had scolded you once when you had mustered up the courage to ask her why you were the only one being left behind, “you’ll die if you go out in the snow.”

And it was true. Your lungs were small, pea-sized, as the doctor had mentioned at one of your checkups. It was about the same time when you started asking questions, curiosity finally picking away at your logic. Going out in the snow and allowing your body to suffer the cold would deliver a fatal blow to your nervous system.

He had not, however, told your parents to keep you locked in like a prisoner that would instantly face death the moment you caught wind of cold. But while your parents had taken dramatic measures to keep you tightly tucked in warmth until summer came around once more, you’d like to think that it was more of an exaggeration as an extension of their concern for your well-being, and not the actual truth.

So that was why you were sitting like the pathetic picture that you were, staring out at the countless other people trudging through snow and laughing as they made up snowballs and built snowmen in their driveways. You wondered briefly what your friends were up to, knowing full well from their recounted stories that at this time of year they’d flock to the bars to catch glimpses of the beautiful young men, soldiers and men from military that would come home from their basecamps on these special occasions.

“We can sneak you out!” One of your friends exclaimed the first time you had explained the real reason as to why you could barely set foot outside, “And we’ll bring you home before your parents wake up.”

You shook your head though, politely denying their requests as your heart ached, “it’s fine. You guys have fun.”

“We’ll find a nice catch for you, Y/N,” another winked at you and you plastered a smile on your face right up until they had turned the corner.

You had cried yourself to sleep that night.

So there you sat every day and night, surprised that your butt hadn’t made an indentation on the chair yet as the sound of your mother’s cooking echoed up the stairs. The attic was where you liked to spend most of your time. It was a place where you could be at peace with yourself and enjoy your own company, the silence that came with it filling your mind with nothing but serenity.

Something flashed across the window.

Probably a snowball, you thought to yourself as you rubbed your eyes. The smell of your mother’s famous dumplings wafted through the attic room and you sniffed the air, stomach growling in anticipation. There was bound to be a feast on Christmas eve. It was a tradition your family never missed out.

A group of children were busy building a snowman in the yard opposite yours and snuggling a little closer to the window, you pulled your blanket tighter around your frame as you watched them, giggling amongst themselves, while sticking the carrot to form its nose.

Another flash. So fast and blurred that you cried out in shock and almost toppled over from your seat.

Blinking, you stared long and hard at what you thought you had seen. If you weren’t mistaken, you swore that it had looked a lot like--

“Hello!”

You screamed, toppling over for good this time. You landed on your butt and must’ve caused a ruckus for your mother’s voice to float up questioningly, “Y/N? Are you okay?”

“Fine!” you cried back without tearing your eyes away from the window.

A boy gazed back at you with amusement glimmering through his eyes. No, not a boy. More like a young man in his twenties, maybe about the same age as you were.

And he was floating.

You opened your mouth only for the words to choke the back of your throat. You coughed instead and didn’t realize that the said young man had propped open the window until you heard him ask, “you good there? That was quite a fall--”

Rushing to clamp a hand over his mouth, you hurriedly looked back towards the staircase. Thank god it seemed like your mother was so engrossed in her cooking and you sighed in relief, before realizing that you were a little too close to the said stranger.

Pulling away quickly and tugging your blanket over your frame, you hissed out, “who are you?” in a tone that you hoped was threatening enough for him to understand you were not here to make friendly conversation. If anything, he was a stranger and he was weird.

But either he was used to people’s rude demeanour or he just didn’t care, for he merely brushed some snow out of his raven coloured hair before settling himself on the window frame more comfortably. He had a wooden cane gripped tightly in his left hand and his feet were left bare. You wondered briefly whether he was cold.

“My apologies for barging in without introductions,” his voice was melodic, smooth, “my name is Kevin Frost. I’m...winter?”

Your eyebrows dipped into a frown, “excuse me?”

“I’m winter personified. Kind of like a guardian, weather guardian. In my case, guardian of winter,” he lifted his cane as if proving a point. Except, what was so special about it? It just looked like a tree branch he’d picked up along the way, “I’m responsible for the snow, I guess?”

“You guess?”

This guy was crazy.

It seemed like he read your mind, for he sighed and threw you a sympathetic look, “you don’t believe me.”

“You end your statements like they’re questions. How am I supposed to be convinced by that?”

Kevin lifted his hand at your words and as he twirled his fingers through air, a wisp of snowflakes suddenly danced along his knuckles as if by magic. Blinking in astonishment, your jaw fell open without warning and he chuckled, “close your mouth, sweetheart. You might catch a fly.”

You snapped your mouth shut, “there are no flies in winter,” you muttered through narrowed eyes while crossing your arms over your middle, “so say what you’re saying is real...What does that mean?”

“That I control winter, kinda. I come around every year when the season rolls around.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because the world needs winter,” he scoffed as though you had asked the most stupidest question, “without winter, the cycle would be broken.”

“Well, you can take your winter and use it elsewhere.”

He looked at you for a second too long that you couldn’t help but shift uneasily under his darkened gaze, “What?” you asked, though averting your eyes at the sudden change in his demeanour.

“You don’t like winter.”

He said it like a statement. Without question. Confident that what he told was the truth.

And he was right.

“What?!” it was his jaw that fell open this time, “so what? You’ve never touched snow before?”

“I don’t,” you answered.

"Why not?"

Biting the inside of your cheek, you said, “I...my health isn’t the best during winter. I can’t go out.”

You shook your head and his eyes grew even wider if that was possible, so baffled by your statement that he almost dropped his cane, “Oh that is really shitty.”

“Oh yes,” your eyes glued themselves to the floor, “that’s me.”

The silence that followed made your heart drop. Why were divulging your darkest thoughts to a mere stranger? And one that climbed through windows and could weld snow like it was as easy as breathing?

But Kevin’s hand reached out, palm open and facing upwards as his face softened. It was almost like he understood what it felt like to be different, deprived from something that everyone else could enjoy, “I think I can help with that.”

“Uhm,” your eyes were skeptically analyzing the small wisps of cold air surrounding said hand, “I don’t think that’s the answer--”

“Just trust me.”

“You’re a stranger.”

“And I’m the only way you can enjoy winter.”

Maybe it was the truth that rang through his words despite barely knowing him, or maybe it was the idea of finally being free of the bodily chains that held you down and just out of reach of the unknown. But one look at the dark obsidian orbs that swam with nothing but an open invitation was enough to make you reach out, hand gently placing over his and shuddering slightly at the icy coldness of his fingers.

"Allow me,” he murmured as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder before tugging you with him. And before you knew it, you were tumbling out of your window and into open air as you whipped along with the wind that carried you forward, over the houses, over the cityscape bathed with snow with Kevin’s hold tightening every so slightly on your frame.

A gust of wind blew in your direction and your shoulders tensed, readying yourself to feel the air nip at your skin and skittle across your clothes with those icy fingers.

But nothing. Nothing but a soft warmth that slowly spread through your limbs, almost as though you had sat by a warm campfire with a mug of warm hot chocolate. Your eyes shot up to meet Kevin’s, who only grinned at you with playful mischief.

“Told you that you’d be safe with me, didn’t I?”

With that, he swooped you along, the edge of your dress skimming the top of houses. You didn’t realize you were yelling in delight the higher you went as your legs dangled. Tingles shot down your spine and into your feet as you looked down at the ground, butterflies roaming your stomach in a mixture of fear and excitement.

“Oh!--” the air stuck in your throat the moment you spotted the Christmas market, “Is that--Is that the Christmas market?!”

His chuckle grazed your ear, “sure is.”

“And that’s the church! Oh my gosh--It’s so pretty!” Gasping at the wondrous sights that appeared before you like a movie you’ve been dying to watch, you can’t help but tear up in blind joy. This, this is what you’ve been missing out on all this time? You couldn’t believe it; how magical it all was, how authentically beautiful and breathtaking. It was almost like looking into a snow globe. Untouchable.

“Are you--Are you crying?” the panic laced in Kevin’s voice made you burst out laughing as you felt the ghost of his hand swiping at your cheek. It felt weird hanging in mid-air being too close to a man -- or could you call him a man? -- that was currently wiping away your tears like it was the most mundane occurrence. But at this point you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“No I’m just--It’s beautiful. I--I can’t believe I’ve been missing out on all this,” you spluttered out, chest tight with emotion, “why hasn’t anyone ever told me?”

“Well to be fair, we are above all humans,” his murmur was so close to your ear that you turned out of curiosity, only to swallow hard at the closeness of your faces.

You looked away, “and you’re not human?”

You sensed his hesitation, “...not exactly.”

“Then what are you?”

Another round of silence as he struggled to give a coherent answer. Something told you that you weren’t going to be fond of all that he had to say.

“It’s complicated.”

You didn’t fight him, knowing full well that it would provoke more questions than provide you answers. He tugged you along silently over the house chimneys, allowing you to ogle at the arrays of food merchants littering the streets and settling you atop one of the roofs to enjoy a live show of musicians in Sleva’s Square. Curiosity burned at the tip of your tongue whenever you caught yourself looking at him for a second too long. But it seemed like your earlier conversation had dulled the light in his eyes and you decided it was best to keep your mouth shut, instead focusing on clapping along to the sound of merry jingles floating through the air.

It was past midnight when Kevin deposited you at your window sill, gingerly settling your feet onto the ground as you allowed your eyes to find his own dark orbs reflecting the dim light of the attic.

You licked your lips that had run dry from the slow ebbing warmth of Kevin’s presence, “thank you, for today.”

His grin was contagious, for you felt your own lips tug into a smile, “you’re welcome, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help the blush from spreading up your neck at the little pet name that he had garnered, “so who’s the next lucky lady then?” you were quick to change the subject, “you can’t tell me I’m the only who gets to ride along with Kevin Frost.”

He smirked and you swore your heartstrings tugged. Reaching up with his hand, he proceeded to tuck your hair behind your ears and only grinned a little wider when your face flushed.

“You are,” he whispered, and with another cold gust of wind, he was gone before you could utter another word.

° . · ❄ · . °

Kevin Frost’s presence was starting to become a constant in your life that winter, dropping by on numerous occasions throughout the day and night as he kept you company. He entertained you with stories of his day; how he’d helped a few children ice skate by freezing the entire lake over, or how he’d made it snow a little harder for others to get enough snow to finish off their snowman.

Sometimes, he would whip up some Christmas creations in your attic itself and wrap you in his arms as he danced along to the snowflakes cascading from your ceiling. He’d hum to a few Christmas tunes as you went, stepping onto his feet and him on yours because-- you’d realized shortly after -- that he wasn’t as such of a good dancer as he claimed he was.

Most nights though, he’d make it a must to fly you to one of the rooftops to enjoy the scenery. You would huddle closer for warmth, your blanket heavy on your shoulders and his arm around you keeping you heated while you exchanged stories of your past and childhood. In exchange he would recollect where he’d come from; how his earliest memory had started from the moment he’d fallen out of an icicle in the North Pole and how, from that day onwards, he’d fly around the world to provide snow when it was necessary.

“So that means you’ll be gone once spring comes around?” you couldn’t help the words that slipped from your mouth. Coughing a little, you nestled closer out of instinct. For some reason, you had been a little weaker these past few days, reason being the numerous secret outings after dinner time. Not that you had mentioned that to your mother when she’d commented on your physical state. That was recipe for disaster.

"My duty will lie elsewhere when that time comes."

"I notice you always talk in riddles whenever you don't want to say things that will hurt people."

He glanced at you, maybe out of shock or maybe just because he already knew how you'd picked up on his habits in the few days that you had spent together.

When he spoke next, his voice was a raspy whisper, “I don’t like hurting people.”

"Don’t avoid my question, Kevin Frost.”

The words hung between you like a cold breath of winter. Kevin’s skin was warm and yet, your fingers felt numb from gripping one of the roof tiles too hard.

“Yes,” he pressed his lips together, “I’ll be gone. Until the next winter season.”

“So you’re leaving me.”

“I never said I was going to stay.”

The words stung like bees, as though someone had reached into your chest for the sole purpose of squeezing your heart until it pinched with pain.

He must’ve regretted his outburst, for in the silence that followed there was a soft mumble of his apology.

"And you said you didn’t like hurting people,” you scoffed and saw him wincing from the corner of your eye, “that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

Gathering up your skirts and wrapping the blanket a little tighter around your shoulders when you felt a gentle whoosh of the winter air scald your skin, you muttered, “I’d like to go home now.”

The fly back was laden with a heavy silence that pressed down on your throat and made your eyes burn with the onset of tears, though you refused to cry for him. You knew, deep down, that he’d be gone in the blink of an eye. He wasn’t the personification of winter for nothing and it ultimately wasn’t his fault for leaving you.

He wasn’t to blame.

It was just a matter of unleashing your own frustrations because you were going to miss him. More than he could imagine.

The moment your feet touched the wooden edge of your window sill, you fought the urge not to turn around and bury yourself into his arms. He grasped your hand, the other around your waist as he helped you inside like he always did, except this time your heart skipped a beat despite the small pang of pain resonating through your chest.

“Y/N,” came his murmur the moment your feet touched your attic floor. You turned around reluctantly, heart collapsing the moment you caught sight of the glistening wetness in Kevin’s dark orbs.

“I--” he took a shaky inhale, stepped towards you until you were close enough for your feet to touch, “I never wanted you to get attached, nor did I want to get attached...to you.”

Your head angled to the floor as you bit your lip, not wanting him to see how much you were breaking inside.

"Oh come here sweetheart,” and that was when his arms laced around your middle to pull you close, a movement so surprising that it made you gasp. Your hands flew to his chest to push him away, only for him to hold on a little tighter and nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck. Your heart felt like it had suddenly been ignited with fireworks, heat coursing through your veins at the sudden display of affection that left you lightheaded.

“I don’t like seeing you unhappy,” his whisper echoed through your ear and as if on impulse he tightened his hold.

“You’ll...” you broke off when the tears started choking you up, arms going around his chest to press your cheek against his collarbone, “you’ll come back though. You can promise that...right?”

Feeling him nod, you pulled away to get that same affirmation from his eyes, which you did once your gazes locked. Gently, Kevin’s hand went up to hold your cheek, brushing his thumb slightly over your cheekbone and causing your breath to stutter inside your throat.

Time felt like it had stopped as you stood there, unmoving, just watching the shades of dark brown moving to soft maroon of Kevin’s eyes as the light danced against his face.

And then he leaned down. His lips feathered over your forehead before pressing a soft, chaste kiss upon it, “I promise.”

° . · ❄ · . °

As Winter slowly ebbed away with the arrival of Spring, so did Kevin Frost. It was as if you were waking up from a dream all this time, a dream that you hoped would last forever. It was only when it was warm enough to step outside that you spotted all of his silent messages displayed across the town. Ice sculptures depicting two miniature figures flying through the sky, dancing on rooftops and laughing together paved the way from the door of your backyard to the edge of your fencing and you swore that if you had been alone you would’ve broken down into tears.

But you held on to that thin strand of hope that Kevin Frost would return the next winter. You hoped. Believed that he would keep his word.

Summer was a daze where you occupied yourself helping your brothers, who had recently bought a stand to open up a bakery shop at the end of your street. As you slowly started learning the ropes of rolling dough out and making confectionaries that the locals were so fond of, you slowly developed the skill of decorating them to your liking; which was winter-themed. Soon enough, cookies in the forms of snowflakes were being displayed, there were icy popsicles in the shape of ice-skating rollers, cakes to show the frozen lake and small figurines dancing atop its surface icing.

The one creation that sold the best out of all these was the pastry depicting a scene from when you and Kevin Frost had sat upon a roof, heads nestled close and looking like there wasn’t anywhere else in the world you’d rather be. You had carved into the dough with the best of your ability, with the details springing from the golden crust once it had gone through the oven as bits and pieces of white chocolate made up the snowflakes falling in that idealistic landscape.

"My daughters just love your creations!” One lady once stated as she bought a cake box and about dozens of your pastry, “she finds them so adorable that she shares them with her friends at recess!”

“Thank you, ma’am. I’m glad she likes them,” you smiled back as you exchanged the box of goodies for some gold coins. Your brother, named Hyunjae, nudged you the moment the woman was out of earshot, “so now that we’ve established that you know how to bake. Care to elaborate where you met this man?”

“What?” you tried keeping your face impassive. But you’d be a fool to think your brother would be satisfied with your obliviousness.

“Y/N, I’d like to know whatever’s going on in that little head of yours,” Hyunjae slung an arm around your shoulder with a sly smirk, “so do please enlighten your brother before he finds that man and lands him one.”

You gasped, “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Well it seems like he’s breaking your heart, whoever that man in the pastry is.”

"I--He’s--There’s no one.”

“Y/N.”

“Hyunjae, leave her alone,” your eldest brother, who went by the name of Younghoon, just threw Hyunjae a stern stare, “she’ll tell us when she wants to.”

“You’re no fun Younghoon.”

Before you knew it, the temperature had dropped and the lush greenery of the foliage adorning the town slowly turned to warm hues of orange and red and yellows that fell to the ground, signalling that a new season was making its way through Sleva. Working in your house kitchen was a given now that it was too cold for your body to handle. You woke up before down each day to prepare the set of pastries and adorned cakes that your brothers would then transport to the market place as you watched, waving until their figures disappeared behind the wooden structures of the buildings.

And then, the first snow came.

You weren’t exactly sure when or how Kevin Frost was going to make his appearance. It had been so long that your memory fogged up whenever you tried to remember the details of his features. Did he have a mole at the corner of his eye or was that just a figment of your imagination? Nevertheless, the first time you spotted snowflakes drifting to the ground, there was a rush of adrenaline through your heart and you just knew that Kevin Frost was here.

That night, you set up the fire in your attic as per usual and gathered your blanket around you before huddling over to the edge of the window. No expectations, your mind told you, no expectations that he’d make it to you today. And that was alright.

Your hand went to press against the window pane. It was cold. It sent a shiver through your body and you coughed slightly, muffling it with your palm.

Who were you kidding? There was absolutely no reason why you sat at the edge of the window with your palms bearing the cold if not for one glimpse of Kevin Frost, one sign from him that he had returned with the winter that buried Sleva in its magical beauty.

You imagined him now, that playful asymmetrical smirk and those gorgeous feline eyes and the tender way he would look at you whenever you would spark a conversation that would keep you awake till the early hours of the morning.

You missed him.

Breath fogging up the glass as your nose went to press against it, you took this moment to close your eyes.

Get a grip Y/N. You had to live your life just like he was living his. He wasn’t even human, so why? What made him so important that you felt like your heart was constantly dancing to the rhythm of his voice?

Your eyes fluttered open as you took a breath--

Only to look straight into Kevin Frost’s eyes.

Gasping in shock, your jaw fell slack as you gazed at his face from behind the window pane, his hand pressing up where yours was as he grinned back at you.

“Kev--” your throat felt tight, “Kevin?”

Your hands scrabbled for the latch. You flung it open.

He was here. He came back as he had promised.

Your heart swelled twice the size of your chest, tears gathering along your eyes so that they made your sight all blurry as you reached out to feel his hands clasping your own and before you knew it, you were being cradled to Kevin Frost’s chest as he held you as though he was never going to let go.

“Kevin?” your murmur was muffled against his shirt and reaching out to cup your cheek, he tilted your face towards his in a manner so gentle that your lungs seemed to stop functioning altogether.

His eyes were the same dark obsidian, his nose scrunching in that same manner of his whenever he was deeply amused and whether it was due to your shock, you weren’t about to make a comment when he was here in the flesh, in your arms.

“Long time no see,” his mouth was pressed to your temple and he pecked the area, over and over again like he himself couldn’t quite believe it, “sweetheart.”

His pet name made you laugh, though the tears now pooled down your cheeks, “long time indeed.”

“Kept my promise though, didn’t I?” his hand went up to smooth over the back of your head in an affectionate manner and you swore you felt your heart melt at his touch.

“Still as cocky as ever.”

“Admit it, you missed me.”

You grumbled out a small whine of agreement while looking away and Kevin only chuckled in response. He pushed back your hair, curled it behind your ear before cupping your cheek once more as he searched your gaze.

The intensity of his dark orbs made something in your chest constrict, hands tightening ever so slightly on his shirt, “what? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I wanted to try something.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I saw a bunch of couples doing it so it got me thinking.”

Heat spread through your cheeks and coursed down the back of your neck at how casually he seemed to handle the matter. It must’ve been obvious from the look on your face for Kevin only chuckled and bent down so close that his nose brushed yours, eyes slowly drifting shut when he angled his head to the side.

When his lips touched yours, you swore your heart burst into a million of fireworks.

A shy, tentative kiss. A first kiss for Kevin Frost. That was for sure.

It felt unreal, cold lips against warm ones that made you shudder out of the sheer sensation. His hand moved to the back of your neck, holding you in place as he caught your lower lip between his own. You let out a small sound of appreciation and spurred on, he kept on kissing you that way over and over again while his other arm tugged you close so that you were pressed up to him, all of your curves molded to his hard frame.

He pulled back and for the first time in forever he was the definition of being flustered, red cheeks and shy smile, “how...how did it feel?” he asked like a little five year old boy.

The grin that almost split your face in two was priceless and you'd never know that his heart was racing hundred miles an hour the moment you did.

"Cold," you giggled at his confused frown, "...and magical."

Satisfied with your answer, the young man pressed another kiss to your cheek in a manner so delicate it made your insides blossom with butterflies.

"So," Kevin turned towards the now open window which was now coated in snowflakes, "shall we?"

Your hand slipped into his as you made your way to the ledge, noting the gentleness of his arm as it wound around your waist and caressed your side.

"Show me what you've made of this winter, Kevin Frost."

102 notes · View notes

chaoticneutralwriter · 4 years ago

Text

Star-Crossed

“ A phrase describing a pair of lovers whose relationship is often thwarted by outside forces. The term encompasses other meanings, but originally means the pairing is being “thwarted by a malign star” or that the stars are working against the relationship. ”

guardian demon!jimin x reader

genre: supernatural, romance, fluff, angst, comedy, slow-burn

word count: 12.9k (once again, back in that 12k territory i didn’t mean for this)

related works: see Masterlist under guardian demon!jimin au

Continuation of Fifth Act: Diligence

A/N: WOW, SO I DIDN’T MEAN FOR THIS TO HAPPEN. THIS WAS HARD BUT I DID IT. WOW. I should’ve known it would take long T^T but here it is finally!! Thank you all so much for your support once again!! <3 I hope this chapter won’t disappoint! T^T

@cherryjiminiee @kokobaekkie @breathebangtan @itsadoozie @thatshylatina @chiminieboi @azulamakesmeblank @sectumsemptae @awkwardwookie @aduky @poisonseashell @shortannoyingginger @caramelmac-chiato @sana-b @jiminstinct @beautifulparisiangirl @taelieninvader @ggukjitaejin @xakemi-chiix @vantaenims @atulipandarose @moments-of-melancholy @xclo02 @cherub-kookie @gottadreamitallaway

Your mind goes completely blank for what felt like a good ten minutes, reacting purely out of the baser, instinctive need to survive – body thrashing wildly like an antelope fighting to get out of a lion’s hold, kicking and screaming. It’s not until you sink your teeth into the soft flesh of your attacker’s hand are you finally released along with a pained shout of surprise.

“Bloody HELL poppet that fucking HURT!”

The force in which you were flung sends you toppling over onto the pavement, unceremoniously landing on your side. Your own groans of pain join in with the male nursing his injured palm and getting over your heart attack, you’re finally able to process who it is; raven hair that falls in long waves, tall, muscular figure and decked out from head to toe in black, complete with combat boots. You sit up if only to yell indignantly, “Well maybe you shouldn’t go around jumping people out of nowhere like that you weirdo!”

Jungkook straightens himself up from being bent over, giving his hand one last massage before he shoots you with a pointed look, “Well I’m not the one who was running around in the open like a headless chicken while an entity from Hell was out trying to kill you.”

His retort makes your mind screech to a halt, “…What?”

At your wide, clueless doe-eyed look, Jungkook’s mouth snaps shut just as he was about berate you some more. Turning his head away, he takes a deep breath in before exhaling through his nose, mussing his dark locks a bit with a furrowed brow as if he’s deep in thought. Then he turns back to you, offering a hand and gestures for you to take it.

“C'mon get up, let’s go somewhere else to talk.”

Your eyes dart from his proffered hand to his obsidian eyes, face set into a neutral expression but you already understand that this is of serious matters. Not like you’re going to refuse him anyways, Jungkook appearing like this was the saving grace you wanted – the key to potentially all of your answers.

So you reach up, enough to clasp your own hand into his larger ones and as soon as he gets a good grip, you’re being tugged by more than the immense strength of a demon; your stomach unintentionally does a flip at the sensation, a familiar whirlwind of colours and images passing by too quickly to be discerned before they abruptly stop altogether and you’re on wobbly knees again from the aftermath.

“Jungkook I swear….” You seethed in disdain, even though you’re holding onto his hand like it’s your lifeline. And again, you hear his snickering that he always seems to fail at hiding. At least this time around, it doesn’t last as long.

“You can’t deny me my simple joys in life. Besides, what’s a little apparating in comparison to nearly dying at the hands of another dark creature, am I right?” He jabs, pulling you until you’re standing upright by yourself and then walking off. It’s only then that you notice you’re back on the garden rooftop again, the stretch of the city skyline before you as you’re surrounded by the shrubberies and wispy grass. This time however, the garden’s greens have significantly yellowed in most places and what little floral that was here had begun to wilt, their blooming cycle coming to an end. You wonder briefly if the rain fall just now would be enough to help revitalize the place. The dark rain clouds from before have since dissolved and migrated further south, away from the city to shower onto some other area, yet the sun still struggles to peek through the denseness they leave behind, the skies remaining a gloomy overcast.

“About that,” You start, following after Jungkook’s long strides down the gravel path. “what do you mean by ‘another dark creature’? As far as I know, I only know two demons and I swear I haven’t done anything to offend any other spawn of satan.”

Jungkook shoots a disbelieving look over his shoulder, actually stops in his tracks so that you can get the full impact of it; arms crossed, one eyebrow raised, head cocked and lips pressed into a hard line. He screams, ’oh really?’ without having to say it.

“You know poppet, sometimes I think you’re either really ballsy, or just plain stupid. But I do suppose that’s what makes you entertaining to watch.” Scoffing, he mutters as if to himself with a shake of his head, “Maybe you two really are meant for each other.”

You don’t get a chance to ask what he meant by that, cutting you off the same time he continues walking again, forcing you to tail after him. “Anyways, it’s just what it sounds like; you went and gotten yourself a new 'friend’ when you decided it was a smart idea to try your hands at summoning a demon for the first time.”

Your steps falter, suddenly feeling lightheaded at the shock overtaking you, “W-Wait – that…I thought it didn’t work…I mean…I didn’t see anything when I was done?”

“Or so you thought. You might not have gotten the demon you wanted but it did the job getting some other lesser creature of darkness for you.”

A chill runs down your spine unintentionally at the thought, memories flitting back to those near misses, now with some twisted, shadowy monster being the cause, lurking around each corner you had turned, stalking and waiting for that perfect moment to kill you off. You had stepped so close to death’s grasp, all because you had so blindly messed with something you had absolutely no understanding of. If it weren’t for Jimin showing up…. You shake away the thought, not wanting to even think about it but….

“So then how did….Jimin and you find me? Is that why you’re here?”

He turns his head, a lopsided smile pulling at his mouth. “Yeah, when you’re a 'spawn of satan’ it’s kind of hard to miss that ominous amount of dark energy that came with the summoning. I’m surprised that you didn’t attract more than just three in a ten kilometre radius so when you think about it, you got what you wanted – congrats.”

In hindsight, Jungkook is right; though it was unconventional, you did indeed manage to somehow get Jimin to show himself finally after days of being missing. But, successful as it is, by no means had it been the way you wanted and thus, the praise came out too back-handed for it to feel anything remotely celebratory.

“And that’s the curious thing,” Abruptly, Jungkook stops walking and it nearly has you crashing into him. Luckily, you catch yourself in time, at the expense of stepping on your toes and nearly falling back on your ass again.

“Your little handy work might’ve been amateurish at most, but… evidently that’s quite some potent things you used there.” He pauses for a second, and then he’s facing you, staring down from his full height that makes you feel infinitely much smaller than you should as he almost accusingly says with narrowed eyes, “Including that thing in your pocket.”

You’re left blinking, pupils shifting left and right like you’re a criminal caught in the act for a good minute before you give yourself a pat down, instinctively going to your pants pocket, feeling nothing but then realizing your tote bag is still clinging onto your shoulder, barely holding on by one strap. You’re actually in disbelief that it made it this far. Grabbing a hold of it, you dig through until you pull out the one possession that the demon could possibly be talking about.

The little black velvet pouch remains unassuming as the day you had received it, so you had thought nothing when you opened it again, expecting to see the same stone crystal inside. To your utter shock however, the stone falls out in broken pieces, chunks split in half as if you had taken a hammer and smashed it. Along with that, the once whole stone had visibly lost its lustre, the natural glow dulled into something much more clouded and opaque. You don’t know what had caused this, racking your brain for an explanation; perhaps this was the only damage resulted from the whole accident fiasco you went through, but considering the forces at work here, you won’t necessarily rule out any other more supernatural possibilities.

“Where did you get that?”

Your confirmation is given by Jungkook’s question, his eyes trained on the remnants of the crystal and tone tinged too much on being apprehensive and wary that you can’t simply brush it off as overthinking this time.

Carefully, you reply, “….From the shop that I got all the other things from. Why?”

He goes eerily quiet, dark brows furrowing into a troubled look that mars his youthful face, and he chews his lips in deep thought. Just when you think he would say something, he schools his face once again, turning away.

“Nothing.”

Your face contorts into a bewildered expression because that sure doesn’t sound like nothing. But you’re not here for that. Huffing through your nose, you stuff the broken stone back into your bag, hand shooting out to grab Jungkook’s wrist to stop him from walking off.

“Look, I know you know something is wrong with Jimin and I wouldn’t have done what I did if he just told me what’s going on. He’s been gone for….I don’t know how many days now, wouldn’t even answer any of my texts or calls, but then still manage to show up when I’m in serious danger yet the first thing he does when he sees me is run?” You let go when you see Jungkook’s attention is back on you except the way he’s hiding any sort of emotion right now is just reigniting the same frustration and anxiety you’ve had bottled up for so long, too long.

Jaw clenching, your gaze hardens as you take in a fortifying breath if only as a last ditch effort to not explode right then and there.

“I need you to tell me everything. No more secrets.”

The words still come out with barely restrained anger.

Jungkook remains unfazed, eyes unwavering as he studies you. He sees the fiery temper waiting to be unleashed through the burning of your irises on him, the strain in which you clench your hands into fists until the whites appear in your knuckles, a tremor that rumbles through you like a volcano just before it erupts – no doubt anyone who valued their well-being would know best to avoid being on the receiving end of your wrath now that it has reached such a peak (he almost feels sorry for Jimin, almost). But amongst the flames, he sees the fan that stokes it; desperation, fear, and….

His lips twitch, bemused.

Jungkook finds you very commendable, maybe even to a fault and perhaps it’s why with one last sigh, he relents.

“All right, relax – don’t bite the hand that’s going to feed you.”

Your heart picks up in pace, anticipation pulsing through you in tandem as you brace yourself. Silently, Jungkook gestures with his chin for you to follow him over to the open space and towards the bench under the tree.

“Has Jimin ever told you how he ended up being your guardian before?” Jungkook asks mid-stride, hands shoved into his pockets casually. His sudden question pulls you away from burning a hole into the back of his head.

“Uh….Maybe once? Something about trying to worm his way out of doing dirty grunt work in the lowest levels of hell after causing trouble.”

“Did he say what he did?”

“…Only that it was quote, 'complicated’.” You respond after some thought. Your answer elicits a snort from the demon in front of you, along with some rueful muttering. Before you can ask, you both have reached the tree and the sight of it surprises you. The branches were now covered fully in bright emerald green leaves, providing the proper amount of shade to the bench that situated below it compared to the first time you’ve seen it but more than that, its even sprouted fruits. Round in shape and about the size of your palm, its colour grades from a yellow-green into rosy reds along the skin and its then you realize they were apples.

Jungkook stops just underneath the tree, side stepping in order to clear a path for you to the bench.

“Get comfortable poppet, it’s a bit of a story.”

Tentatively, you make your way over to sit down, gaze never leaving Jungkook’s and evidently the tension is still running high for you – you’re quite literally sitting on the very edge of your seat. Seeing as how that’s as comfortable as you’re going to get, Jungkook releases another deep sigh, rolling his neck as he begins a tale he loathed to repeat.

“That 'complicated’ thing that your guardian did? That was tempting an actual guardian angel to fall from grace.”

The words took a minute to process for you, not knowing what to expect but when they do, the impact hits you head on like a speeding train. For a split second, you’re trapped in a frozen world that’s numbed you of all your senses; you’re left stunned, speechless, jaw actually dropping and you wonder if you’re breathing still. After your mind was done tripping over on itself do you manage to stutter, “He – I mean how….?”

Jungkook crosses his arms, leaning back on the trunk of the tree as a far off look takes over his gaze.

“Trust me when I say if you knew Jimin like I did, you wouldn’t be half as surprised as you are that he would manage to do something like this. Heaven is only blissful to those who are complacent and live by their rules. There’s no room for doubts because to doubt is to question in your beliefs, and in turn, His beliefs which to angels is blasphemy. And angels, above all, are representatives of that. It is their duty to carry out His will, to be the shepherd to guide the lost sheeps because only you can lead them to salvation, even the most wayward ones; for His love is always gracious, accepting and forgiving. They’re really good at selling that righteous fantasy – makes you feel all high and mighty.”

He exhales deeply, the barest hints of an underlying bitterness carries out with the breath, made more obvious when he says, “But even that in itself was a test of faith. How cruel is it to tell you that your sole purpose is to protect and guide a soul that’s supposedly so precious when they prove to you time and time again to be so undeserving of that love? It makes you start to question a lot of things, like whether all your effort is worth it in the end or….” A sharp inhale. “Maybe you’re simply not good enough.”

You listen quietly, not wanting to interrupt Jungkook but immersed in your own thoughts too. Even though you’re not terribly religious, you’re still somewhat familiar with the concepts. So long as you live your life honestly, commit no sins and do no wrong unto others, you’re more likely not to end up going to hell and be tortured for all eternity. And even if you do, you have the chance to repent and thus be forgiven.

Of course, people twist the words they read to suit their own philosophies but in the end, there’s still that clear line between evil and good. It’s all….very black and white to you. So it should be no surprise to you that beings who serve God would have that followed to a tee, only there’s no room for second-guessing or evidently, second-chances.

You see the unfairness in that; to be expected as someone who’s so devout and pious yet not be given that same mercy as humans.

You think….it’s quite sad.

“Nevertheless, those are thoughts no angel should have. Not unless you want to attract the attention of a demon.” He sneaks a glance at you and you catch the mischievous twinkle peering through the long bangs before he averts his eyes to the horizon in front of him again. “And that’s where your little guard dog comes in.”

You don’t deny the way you perk up a little more at that, pulled from your previously more sombre reveries.

“'Jimin’….He was everything you humans thought demons would be – conniving, heartless, and selfish creatures who takes pleasure in causing misery and suffering on others while indulging in all forms of obscenities as a pass time. He, like many demons, saw the world as his little sandbox and everyone in it his own personal plaything; doesn’t bat an eye to even the most heinous of crimes.”

You find the comparison jarring when you think of the demon you know now as being the very same one who did all those morally skewed things. It’s like talking about two different beings altogether. But the more you ruminate on it, the more you saw the plausibility; for one, Jimin is a demon, his entire existence is to be the devil’s advocate so how can you, a human no less, judge him for doing his job? And secondly, Jimin always did have that cockiness about him, like he knows he’s better than everyone else and he’s not afraid to let everyone know they’re beneath him – you included. It was very prominent when you first met, but now it’s tamed to a cheeky sassiness he uses to lightly tease you with (an impressive feat if you’re going to be honest; safe to say that was quite the learning curve for both of you).

However, it just proves to you that even someone like him could change for the better.

“But unlike many demons, Jimin was…remarkably ambitious, uncharacteristically so because while others are satisfied with living that otherwise lawless, cesspit lifestyle, he grew bored of the monotony – had a need to conquer new challenges, push boundaries, always a hunger for more. And it worked in his favour too.” He pauses to let out a short scoff, a humourless chortle under his breath as his voice lowers to an almost melancholic tone. “Maybe that’s what made him so dangerous; being so good at finding even your most darkest secrets and enticing you with sweet words that it makes it hard for anyone to resist.”

Again, there was something in the way Jungkook is telling you all this, the way his voice would inflect with a deep-rooted emotion without meaning to and you can’t shake off this feeling. It’s almost like….he’s recounting, reliving memories from a different time.

Dark eyes slide to yours and you find yourself locked in an endless abyss, one that you’ve seen before in Jimin’s – swimming behind centuries worth of history, you’ll catch glimpses of a long lifetime of loneliness and bitter sorrow that are much too alien to belong on such youthful faces. “So imagine how easy it was to get to a guardian angel who deep down, knew he wasn’t cut out for the job anyways.”

…. And suddenly there’s meaning to the familiarity in which he speaks of everything; of Heaven, of angels, of this guardian angel….

Cocking his head, Jungkook smiles at you but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “Don’t start crying for me now poppet, you should save those tears for something more worthwhile.”

You hadn’t even realized the way you were staring, practically gaping at him with unadulterated shock. Overwhelmed is an understatement to what your mind is going through; so many thoughts racing a mile a minute yet feeling completely empty of any at the same time. You wouldn’t have imagined that this was Jungkook’s story.

At your prolonged silence, he tears his gaze away from you, not wanting to admit how he can’t stand seeing the sad look you’re giving him any longer. Pity was not necessary here.

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t regret it. Jimin might’ve done it out of boredom and as his way to fulfill his self-gratification but it was the first time in so long that I felt like someone was listening to me and didn’t judge me right away for my 'impure’ thoughts.”

You can almost hear him rolling his eyes as he says that.

“Before him, I really thought that I was going to live a miserable life being stuck watching over this poor excuse of a human being who does nothing but just….rot away; self-entitled, greedy, stepping on others for their own selfish gains, never to redeem themselves in the eyes of God. Jimin understood me – offered me an out, something I didn’t have when I was made into a guardian angel and never thought I would get even afterwards.”

“So I took it; in exchange for one insignificant soul, I got my freedom.” Jungkook tilts his head upwards, as if he means to burn a hole right through the clouds themselves, or maybe the place that lies far beyond them. Instead, he reaches out to pluck a shiny red apple from its branch, one of the few you think that are early to ripe. “But to willingly hand over a soul to a demon under your watch was an unspeakable act, one of the surest ways to get you thrown out those golden gates.”

He tosses the fruit up in the air once, catching it smoothly and shooting you a roguish grin. The way his lips curl back gives you a more full view of his canines – you swear they look a lot more sharper than what they were supposed to be on his human visage.

“And yes, it did hurt like a bitch when I fell from Heaven, in case you wanted to know.”

A throaty giggle comes out unintentionally along with the huff of air you release through your nose, one which you try to cover up by clearing your throat.

That was a good reference.

Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, actually looks proud of the jab he made before his grin starts to slip away, expression turning into something a little more morose as his eyes drift to the apple in his hand.

“The rest was pretty much history; as punishment, Jimin was made to take responsibilities for intervening with the duties of a guardian angel – quite lenient I might add – and once he gets his stamp of approval, he would go back and take me under his wing.”

“So imagine my surprise….” The grip on the apple tightens a fraction, the words are enunciated slowly, deliberately, like its taking all of his self-control to not completely crush it. You would’ve been convinced he was doing a pretty good job, if it weren’t for the flickers of a deep golden glow that begins to burn behind his once onyx irises and the air around him resonates with a charged energy that had goosebumps appearing on your arms. “When half-way through, he asks me if there was a way for demons to become a guardian angel.”

Right before your eyes, the red apple starts to decompose as if it were in a time-lapse, browning and shrivelling in on itself until all that’s left is a dried husk in Jungkook’s hand. You swear you feel the colour drain from your face along with it, a cold sweat breaking out at the back of your neck. Unsparing of the way your mind is hanging by a thread, the demon turns so that you see the twisted smile stretching across thin lips and he sneers, “The irony of it all, am I right?”

You don’t answer because you physically can’t. It’s like your body is going into shock, eyes unfocused and head spinning to the point where you’re thankful that you’re actually sitting or else you think you might tip over and pass out. Your heart is pounding rapidly in your chest, each beat hammering against your ribcage. You try to take in deep breaths to calm yourself but every inhale and exhale comes out short and shaky, every swallow leaving your throat drier.

“Deny it all you want poppet, but this is the truth you wanted – your little guardian demon wants to become a guardian angel.” You wouldn’t have realized you were shaking your head to yourself if Jungkook hadn’t spoken up, voice too nonchalant after dropping a bomb like that on you. He’s dusting his hands off on his sweatpants, picking and inspecting his nails now that the remains of the rotten apple had dropped onto the ground beneath him. By that time, you finally begin to stumble through your words, more or less thinking aloud in hopes of trying to make sense of this extreme turn of events.

“T-That’s….that can’t be, I don’t – why would he do that?”

Jungkook’s gaze whips to you with a quickness, the gold of topaz so piercing that it startles you and just when you thought you could be any less prepared at receiving bombshell news, Jungkook proves you wrong by hitting you with another one more devastating than the last.

“Do you really not know?” He asks, the question nothing more than a hushed tone filled with disbelief, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s you. You’re the reason.”

You.

The reason is you.

It’s like you’re hit by a physical blow that knocks the wind out of you and you brace your hands on your knees, letting out a sharp exhale. All of your questions are getting answered yet the answers you get are only producing more questions; questions that you don’t even know if you want answers to because you’re terrified of what you might hear. You don’t know if you can take much more of it. But you’ve made it so far. With this, you’ve come closer than ever before to finding Jimin and be able to help him. It’s a huge jump than what you had thought possible in accomplishing. So you take a deep breath in, mustering all of your courage to continue forward.

“Is it even possible?” Your voice comes out in a quiver, hoarse as you try to push past the lump that’s formed in your throat, your confidence left much to be desired. Jungkook offers you a half-shrug.

“It’s the same way I became a guardian angel myself once upon a time ago, only you’re more likely to die attempting it as a demon; as they say, it’s easier to fall than it is to redeem yourself.”

That has you jumping to your feet, so fast that the blood rushes to your head and you momentarily feel lightheaded but you’re more alarmed by what Jungkook had informed you.

“That’s just insane, he can’t – I can’t let him do this!”

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that, poppet.” Jungkook shakes his head firmly, arms crossing and halting any sort of protests that were about to spill from your mouth. “He’s already evoked the process, and now it’s only a matter of time before he fully succumbs to its effects.”

“Wait, what do you mean…?” You ask, full of apprehension, eyes never leaving Jungkook’s.

“Becoming a guardian angel involves being imbued with holy magic over a period of time; the process is slow, but otherwise painless….if you’re talking about an ordinary soul that is.” He pushes himself off of the tree to stroll forward a few steps, “With a demon? Even I don’t know what will happen to him. As you can imagine, to have both holy magic and demonic powers inhabiting one body is dangerous because they’re two conflicting forces; it leaves you unstable and vulnerable until one rejects the other, or your body gives out and you simply perish.”

A horrified gasp rushes past your dry lips, and you’re once again short of breath as an acute surge of panic overtakes your entire body. You’re moving before you realize what you’re doing, latching onto Jungkook’s sleeves with trembling hands like you’re afraid at any moment, he would vanish and abandon you to suffer this cruel twist of fate. Jungkook stumbles back, caught off guard by the strength of your grip, nails digging into his arms and how frantic you look – wide eyed and pupils shaking.

“Where is he?! I need to find him! Tell me where he is Jungkook!”

His larger hands grab ahold of your wrists to stop you jostling him for answers. “I don’t know that poppet. And even if I do, what does it matter? He’s doing this so he can be with you. Is this not something you wanted?”

Your eyes shut in anguish, head lowering as you can only muster a weak shake. “Not like this…” Never like this…

You hear a soft scoff from above you, and you don’t notice the way Jungkook has yet to let you go nor the way he can’t seem to bear looking at you, gaze set out on the horizon in front of him, the unnatural golden glow long since receded as he thinks bitterly to himself, 'That makes the two of us.’

He doesn’t want to admit that the sight of you like this, devastated and conflicted at what you had learned, stirs up his own complex cocktail of emotions – things he has kept buried in the recesses of his mind. When Jungkook had told Jimin of how he could possibly become a guardian angel, he felt like he had owed him some kind of debt, something to repay for allowing him to break free of his own miserable life – only to be the one who leads someone else back to the same place he was in. Maybe this is why he still hasn’t let go of how resentful he is of Jimin’s choice.

Jimin was a fool – a fool in love. Does he truly understand the consequences of what entails afterwards? He thought Jimin would see just how folly it is to pursue this pipe dream, give up the longer he’s subjected to the gruelling effects of completing the acts but Jimin is not Jimin without that stubborn, ambitious streak.

Worse of all, Jungkook resented himself too because deep down, he dares to envy Jimin for his tenacity, for finding a purpose in a life he saw no worth in and to have someone who is willing to fight for him as much as he is for them.

Maybe through this odd sense of kinship with you….. this is the closure he needed.

It takes a few good minutes for you to gather yourself again, minutes of holding yourself back from breaking down completely because you can’t afford to, not now. Not when its suddenly a matter of life or death. The cogs are turning double time in an effort to come up with something, anything to fix this. And that’s when –

“What if there was another way?”

Jungkook pauses to look at you before letting out a short incredulous laugh at the very idea, “Don’t be ridiculous poppet, as if Heaven – “

“I’m saying what if there was another way Jimin can stay without becoming a guardian angel?” You cut him off and the brief moment of silent questioning allows you to blurt out perhaps the second craziest thing you’ve thought of in your life, “What if I give my soul to him?”

Another long silence drags on, only because Jungkook is practically gaping at you like a fish now; jaw dropped, eyes wider than you’ve ever seen before. You both spend minutes that feel like an eternity just standing there, staring at each other as if to see who would break away first. It makes your nervously racing heart seem ten times louder in your ears and you grow self-conscious. Just when you go to explain yourself, defend your case, Jungkook lets out a wheezing laugh. At first they were short and breathy sounds but as they continue, the volume grows until it’s a full blown cackle as does the almost crazed grin on the demon’s face.

You’re frozen in your spot at the sight, even when Jungkook steps back from you to turn away and pace around, hands on his hips and occasionally running through his hair. You hear him choke out jumbled words to himself, phrases that start but drown out by more incredulous bouts of laughing. When it seems he’s finally able to calm himself, Jungkook whirls back around, eyes locking onto you intensely. “You’re serious? You’re actually serious?”

You sputter at the sudden accusation, “Wh – Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because it’s crazy?” Jungkook shoots back, “You do know that most of the time when someone wants to give up their soul to a demon it never ends well – and I’m saying this from one demon to a mortal.”

“Well I imagine if that wasn’t the case then more people would do it right?” You scowl, rolling your eyes. “And besides, it’s not like I haven’t thought about doing it before this….”

Jungkook reels a bit again at the additional confession, scoffing lightly. You can see the thoughts play out across his face as his gaze fixates on a point past the buildings and trees surrounding you and after seemingly reaching a conclusion, you see him subtly shake his head.

“At most, you might be able to remain bound to him.”

“That’s more than enough.” You say, “He shouldn’t have to risk his life for me like this, not when he’s done so much already.”

“Heavy emphasis on the might poppet.” The tall demon holds up a hand as if it means to stop you from flying off to tear the whole city apart to find Jimin in this instance (which, he’s not wrong given if you had that ability). “And even if you do, I can’t guarantee what will happen to Jimin, whether this will stop the process or not.”

“Then help me find him Jungkook.”

He groans, throwing his head back like a child who’s been asked to wash the dishes and you’re flabbergasted at the response.

“You’re really going to leave your friend to die just like that?” You ask aghast.

“It was his choice.” Jungkook replies apathetically. “I warned him that if he were to go through with it, I won’t be able to help him with what would happen afterwards and he did it anyways. Now it’s out of my hands and I’m starting to regret saying anything because of the headache this is causing me.”

“All the more reason!” The rush of urgency threatens to overwhelm you as you step towards Jungkook, “We won’t know if this will work unless I try!”

Yet still, he remains unmoving and it only serves to freak you out even more. It’s like you can already see this last chance slipping away, right in front of you the more Jungkook becomes reluctant.

“This is because of me isn’t it? So let me fix it.” You beg, grabbing ahold of him. “Please Jungkook, this is the last thing I need from you.”

The weight of your pleas hang heavily in the air around you, almost to the point where you felt suffocated yourself. You hate how everything is riding on whether Jungkook would agree to help or not, is literally what would make or break this. You watch with bated breath, hyper-focused on every small movement Jungkook makes; the way he breaks away from your gaze to look off into the distance, jawline tensing as he clenches them and a deep furrow pinching his brows.

Jungkook watches with unseeing eyes the way the first rays of the setting sun breaks through, the streaks of orange so vibrant that they cut through like a knife and set aflame the dense clouds surrounding them. More and more the sky parts to reveal this fiery blaze until the light is burning into his eyes, even long after he eventually slips them shut.

There’s no doubt that once Jimin gets wind of this, he’ll miraculously summon enough strength to slam him through all seven levels of hell and then some. He’s already overstepped by even telling you what Jimin’s really been up to but it’s not his damn fault that the elder demon really dropped the ball on this one.

… Agh fuck it, he’s already in deep now, so what’s a little more help gonna do? Especially when the blazing desperation in your eyes currently rivals that of the departing sun, still clinging onto the last few minutes it has left before the oncoming night swallows it whole. It’s in the last bit of dying light that Jungkook lets out one long, drawn out sigh through his nose and you see him turning back to face you, eyes softly aglow once more and a meaningful look. You gulp, trying hard not to make it so obvious on how nervous you’re feeling but who were you trying to fool? At this point, you’re ready to drop down on your knees and grovel.

You’re actually a split second away from doing that when Jungkook rolls his head back and with another begrudging sigh, so heavy that his shoulders slump inward, says, “Alright fine! I’ll try to track him down.”

Jungkook settles by telling himself the only reason why he agreed to do this tedious task is because: 1) He’d already come this far in telling you basically everything that’s been going on with your guardian demon, might as well go the full nine-yards, 2) your daring plan of action and commitment was something that undoubtedly piqued his interest once more, enticed him into new territories of what-ifs. Again, commendable, he thinks frustratingly so; it’s like a force of its own getting him to root for you. As well, what kind of demon would he be if he didn’t play the part of being the shoulder devil that eggs you on to do stupid, reckless things?

And 3) ultimately, this isn’t his mess so however way it ends is none of his business and though yes he’s helping you track down your missing demon, he doesn’t have any control on what you intend to do after confronting Jimin. He’s essentially just the messenger, and once he’s done with this ’last favour’, he can dust his hands off and continue on his merry way.

As entertaining as this all had been, you had proven to be more of handful than he had imagined. His first impressions of you was that of a strange human who wasn’t totally obsessed with the idea that a demon had decided to take on the appearance of her favourite idol. In fact, you had even seemed highly unamused by it. But you had rolled with the punches and made do with your equally strange circumstance.

And then things took a turn for the stranger; the two of you end up developing an unlikely friendship but more than that, it bloomed into something more. That was when Jungkook had dropped his metaphorical popcorn. The thought is still unfathomable because…what kind of demon falls in love with a human?! And on top of that, what kind of human falls in love with a demon?! That’s just something someone who’s had a few too many screws loose in their head would do and neither you nor Jimin had strike him as one such person.

Apparently, he’s sorely mistaken.

As it turns out, both of your knuckle-headedness knows no bounds, having expected most of it to come from Jimin (given his track record) but you’ve proven yourself to be in equal competition with him, not one to be left out.

If he had thought you were reckless with trying to do a demon summoning ritual on your own before, you’ve blown his expectations out of the water (once again) by declaring you would willingly give up your soul to a demon – in order to save him no less! What an absolute mad lass!

He lets out a snort, kicking at the remnants of your handy work, finding himself back at the scene of the crime in search for a lead. Initially, Jungkook had arrived to the spot out of curiousity on what was causing such a concentration of dark energy to appear and after poking around, had found traces of your aura still lingering about – that was how he had managed to eventually find you. The discovery however made him do a major double-take; for one, not having expecting you of all people to be the cause of this supernatural phenomena but most importantly, how you even managed to come into possession of the materials to make it happen.

That was perhaps the most troubling bit Jungkook finds about this conundrum.

Not just anyone can get their hands on some of the things required to do a summoning ritual, let alone anything remotely authentic. People just kind of fill in the blanks on what they think they need but somehow you almost end up getting it down pat.

This ’shop’ you supposedly went to apparently has the good shit.

And that’s not all.

Along with the ingredients to a demon summoning ritual, you had also walked out of there with something he had thought he would never see in his new lifetime again.

Angelus Tactus.

Or better known as Angel’s Touch – a stone made of pure starlight, said to be plucked from the Heaven’s themselves which imbued them with magical properties that offer protection from much more malicious entities and energies.

So by every means, it was not something some little shop just has lying around as a trinket for sale no matter how niche they supposedly are.

Jungkook unconsciously gnaws at his bottom lip, mulling over this tidbit of information. None of this sits well with him and he had half the mind to hunt down the identity of the shop owner himself, if only to satisfy his curiousities.

….No, he shouldn’t. If he does then he’s only digging his own grave instead of getting out of it like he’s supposed to be doing right now.

With a shake of his head, he banishes the thought (…for now) to focus back on his surroundings. Eyes scanning, Jungkook notices that the rain had washed away what remains of the chalk pentagram that was etched into the asphalt and whatever dried herbs or salt left over has sunken into the soil where they have been pushed. They soak up the natural energy that’s provided by the earth, enough to give off a low pulse. It’s very weak but as he carefully steps around, it’s enough for him to use in order to help him sift through and amplify other aura signatures that might’ve passed the area.

Yours and the creature you summoned were prominent, and given Jimin’s state of limbo, it takes a little bit of 'feeling’ around before he begins to pick up another faint trace of someone else’s. He closes his eyes, honing in on it and lets his feet guide him until he comes upon a spot where it emanates the strongest. He lets it wash over him, familiarizing it with his senses before his eyes slip open, the topaz glow taking over his irises.

Bingo.

Logically speaking, tracking down a demon would take some time, you figured maybe two or three days because demons are discreet creatures by nature; doesn’t help that the wanted demon in question most likely doesn’t want to be found either. So it makes perfect sense that your only option right now is to wait and use this time to go through exactly how you’re going to give your idiot guardian demon a piece of your mind.

Well, at least try to.

You’re a bit of mess right now, to put lightly. After Jungkook spilled the secret on basically everything and you begging him to find Jimin, swearing that this will be the last he’ll ever hear from you, you find yourself strapped into this Tower of Terror of emotions – going from one extreme to another in what feels like split second intervals. You’d arrived home feeling numb and exhausted, heading straight to the safe confines of your room to sit on your bed in darkness and total silence. You felt like a zombie in which your mind and body were not connected, simply breathing and staring off into nothingness.

There was a distinct tightness in your chest, suffocating in its weight that it has you struggle to properly breathe. You don’t know how long you remain like that, but after what felt like an eternity, the strongest desire to scream had overcome you. It’s a rather delayed reaction, you think, moments after you had snatched the closest pillow to you to let out your pent up anger into. You throw your bag violently in the direction of your closet for good measures, the resounding thud pacifying you slightly.

Heaving, you push away the fallen strands of hair out of your face, eyes squeezed shut. You feel your throat closing up in a tell-tale sign of angry tears but you stubbornly keep them at bay. You won’t cry for Jimin, as much as you want to. Though hurt, you’re also livid with what he’s done, is doing…

You shake your head to yourself; you still can’t process the fact that he’s so willingly risking his life for you like this, all at the chance to stay with you as your official guardian angel. But to also not tell you anything about it – just makes you think when would he tell you then? Or was he even planning to tell you at all? The thought of him quietly erasing himself from your life if things went wrong, with you knowing no better and him just….accepting that?

And assuming you would be okay?!

The audacity reignites the flames of your fury.

You’d fallen into a restless sleep in the early hours of the morning, or rather closed your eyes for a long period of time because you don’t think you actually slept. You had tossed and turned, too riled up for any sort of fitful rest. Before you knew it, pale morning light had seeped through your blinds.

Yet you continue to lay there in bed, still as drained as you were the day before, only you’d fallen into a pit of listlessness. The amount of strength you mustered up after a while was to grab your phone, remembering the shift you had later that day and though you hate to be that person, you know there’s no way you’ll be able to work through it. At least, not that day.

But much of your time passes that way, mulling on your thoughts over and over again until you’re giving yourself a headache, the same questions repeating like a broken record in your mind; when did it all start? How could you not have noticed any of this and for so long? How did you let it get this bad?

How long do you have now? Or are you too late?

It has you scrambling to bring forth memories, searching for any kind of answers lost in the past. You dissect each and every one of them, and more and more you begin to uncover the signs; a flicker of melancholy that slipped through before quickly being masked by indifference and teasing, feather-like touches, so light they made you think you’d dreamt it, and…

That night.

The biggest kicker of them all was that night. In a spectacular combination of Jimin’s deflective skills and your tendencies to not be confrontational, you had assumed that it was just as he suggested; some unfortunate, rotten timing on his part that he’d ran into something vicious – another demon, an angel, a hunter, a witch…

Who would’ve thought it was him going through the process of becoming a guardian angel.

Fuck, it all made so much more sense.

As all the puzzle pieces fall into place, it made you realize that the signs had been there all along, just hidden away so well by Jimin.

And every time, you hesitated, faltering on taking action when given the chance.

The regret of not having done more when you could’ve begins to grow inside you and soon, it’s what ate at you the most.

Waiting becomes tortuous. You’re going through the routine of living on autopilot, scatterbrained and anxiously watching for Jungkook to show up at any day, hour, minute, second with news that he’s found a lead. You’re hoping and actually praying to whatever God up there that would listen to give you this one chance to make things right.

So on edge you were that when you came home from what you think was the biggest struggle you had to getting through work to a cryptic message smeared across your mirror, like you’d walked straight into 'The Shining’, you nearly blacked out right then and there.

The yelp you let out was embarrassingly loud, enough to alert Jaehee who came rushing to you, stumbling with shoes half-off from surprising you with an afterwork dinner date. Amidst her frantic questioning and the blood pumping loudly in your ears from your heart that’s ready to bail on you, you come to the realization that while you saw the beginnings of your own paranormal activities movie, Jaehee only saw a plain, ordinary full-length mirror.

It took a lot of nervous laughing and some very poor half-ass excuses to eventually pry your friend off, ushering her out of your room with the promise of properly resting. Once you shut the door, you take deep breaths before turning to look at the offending message that’s ruined your mirror. Now that the instinctual fear wasn’t clouding your judgement, you see clearly that – thankfully – the substance staining the surface of the glass is not blood but something akin to black ink. As for the message itself, it simply states:

’The Whiskey Serpent,

Tomorrow. Midnight.

JK.’

A beat passes and when you fill in the blanks to give context for this obscure set of instructions, your eyes close in exasperation as you heavily inhale.

You’re going to strangle him.

Tomorrow midnight doesn’t come nearly as fast as you wanted it to and your body and mind seems to resent that fact by compromising your sleep (again) and making you feel so jittery you can barely stand still for five seconds. You leave your afternoon shift all nerves and with still too much time on your hands for your liking, even after doing a trial run to the appointed place with the directions you found. You find it easy enough. To no surprise, it’s located in the more luxurious part of the city’s districts, surrounded by sleek sky-rises that hosts either penthouse apartments or five star hotels, streets littered with more expensive cars than you’re used to seeing, upscale boutiques and of course, private lounges and clubs.

The Whiskey Serpent was amongst them, a minimalistic looking building with sleek, black granite stone cladding that gives off the slightest hints of sparkles in the bright sunlight, accented by its polished, dark cherry wood double doors and large, stainless steel handles stretching nearly top to bottom. Atop the entrance sits a metallic amber snake, rearing up and curling around the outline of a slender arm holding a crystal glass, jaws agape and fangs bearing as if ready to strike. It’s all people would need in order to know the name of this establishment.

It’s currently closed; opening hours start once the sun begins to set. So you flounder a bit, not knowing whether you should hang around at a cafe until you have to meet Jungkook or head home. Either way, you know you’re going to fail at any attempts of trying to be prepared for whatever Jungkook is going to say. Perhaps its with that in mind that you choose to go home – if you’re going to be stewing in your anticipation and nerves, you might as well do it in the comforts of your own room.

Your stewing consisted a lot of breathing exercises, fiddling around things on your desk and shelves, standing in one place waiting for a command like a Sim, and pacing. Lots of pacing. You tried stress eating but realize you have no appetite for anything in such a state, a mild inconvenience you know will come back to haunt you later as dinner quickly comes and goes without you so much as consuming a single bite of anything.

As soon as the clock hits half past eleven, you jump on the opportunity to head out, no longer able to wait. You fire off a hasty text to Jaehee the same time you’re speeding to get your shoes on and you’re out the door in record timing. You’re breathless by the time you arrive, breaking out into a half-sprint in your haste. Catching your breath, your eyes take in the way the exterior of the lounge has been illuminated by the little well lights that beam upwards along the walls with a golden glow, now that the skies has darkened. The snake as well has been lit up with its own spotlight, giving it a menacing look as it seems to bore down on you, daring you to enter its domain.

You swallow thickly, squaring your shoulders and with an exhale, mutter to yourself, “Okay, let’s do this.”

Pulling open the doors, you’re greeted by a dimly lit waiting area; black marble floor, an upholstered seating bench on one side and a hostess desk perpendicular to it. Behind the desk was a beautiful dark stone and granite wall fountain, the water cascading down in a steady stream, shimmering against the rough edges as its lit by spotlights lining along the bottom and top and giving off an almost rippling effect. Fixed to the surface were brass vines that crawled from either side, intertwined amongst them were two large snakes that seem to undulate from where they are stuck to, their bodies subtly lifting higher in some places, one head tilted outwards more than the other, as if to give the illusion that they were alive and at any moment, would slither off the wall they were on.

You stand awkwardly, not sure how to approach the elegant looking hostess; a tall woman dressed sharply in an all black suit with hair tied up in a high ponytail, face painted immaculately with well-blended eyeshadows, complimentary lip colour and crisp liner. But you need to if you want to get into the lounge. You’re made painfully aware of how out of place you must look, no where near looking like the type of person to be visiting places like this and the fact makes you freeze up a little.

God, why did Jungkook have to pick a place that screams in your face that you’re poor? Why can’t he just meet you at a cafe or – ?!

“Hello miss? Can I help you with something?”

Your loathing inner ranting is interrupted by the woman behind the desk, who peers at you questioningly, long lashes fluttering as she blinks.

“Uhh…” You stutter, shifting nervously and hugging your bag closer to you in an attempt to comfort yourself before meekly replying, “I’m uhh – here to meet with someone…?”

“Oh,” She sounds surprised and you’re not offended by it. The woman begins to tap on the tablet she’s holding. “Do you a have a name for the reservation?”

You feel like your going to choke on air, mouth opening and closing like a fish as you scramble for an answer until –

“Don’t worry about it, Xenia. This one’s with me.” You jump at the sudden feeling of a large hand clamping down over one of your shoulder and the sound of a timbre voice above you. Whipping your head up, your face contorts into a scowl at seeing none other than Jungkook who, upon feeling your heated gaze on him, shoots you a side-eyed, shit-eating smirk, thick wavy bangs falling over one eye and giving him a wolfish appeal.

Immediately, memories of his little stunt with your mirror resurface and you hold up an accusing finger, scowl deepening further. “You – !!”

Xenia, the pretty hostess, recovers quickly, interrupting you as she smiles and holds out a hand towards the direction of the short hallway that must lead off to the actual lounge.

“Please, go right ahead then. Would you like me to have the usual ready for you?”

“Yes, please and thank you.” Jungkook waves casually, then you feel him nudge you forward and you have no choice but to go. He leads you to round the corner and you finally get to see that the lounge is just like the rest of the building; all dark colours, dimly lit and refined with a luxurious elegance that you’re both in awe and intimidated by.

Around the perimeters of the large room, there are alcoves with black leather sofas, decorated with lavish throw pillows and low tables, each booth separated by corinthian style columns outlined in gold that matches the designs running along the ceiling moulding while much of the middle space is taken up by velvet ornate chairs gathered around tables with tall cylindrical lamps emitting a soft warm glow to serve as lights. There wasn’t much in terms of decor, other than the sleek black grand piano situated in the farthest corner of the room, currently empty with no pianist.

You don’t see many people here, only a few couples interspersed in some of the booths and chairs and the occasional individuals having a quiet drink to themselves. Despite the abundant of open tables, Jungkook doesn’t lead you to any of them, instead directs you to the only other place of sitting which was a long bar taking up most of one side. He takes a seat in one of the bar stool and the bartender wordlessly places down two cozier, crystal glasses and a bottle onto the brown marble counter in front of him, the liquid inside a deep russet colour, before leaving.

“Are you going to keep standing there or are you gonna come sit?” Jungkook gestures to the empty seat beside him. His voice snaps you from your momentary gaping and you kiss your teeth in frustration, annoyed that you keep getting distracted.

“You have some explaining to do. What the hell were you thinking when you decided to vandalize my mirror like that?!” You hiss as you take your seat carefully, acutely self-conscious of not wanting to draw any attention to your presence here – silly considering there’s hardly anyone here.

Still, this is such a new place for you that you can’t help feeling like you’re in over your head being here. Sure you’ve been to a few bars and pubs but the places you go to don’t have mini crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and their liquor selection is equivalent to what you find in your local liquor and beer store; you don’t think you recognize any of the bottles lining the vast glass shelf in front of you.

Jungkook ignores you by choosing to down his glass in one shot and lets out a loud noise of satisfaction, smacking his lips.

“That’s some good shit.” He seems to say so more to himself.

“Jungkook.” You say with warning. The patience you would have had to humour him tonight was long gone, spent on the time waiting to hear any news from him.

“Don’t be so upset, I didn’t have any way to contact you. Plus, you were out with your friend so I highly doubt you would appreciate me just waltzing up to you with her there.” He pushes the extra glass of liquor towards you. “Also would be too suspicious because I don’t think you’re someone who knows that many good-looking people.”

Glaring, you push the glass back stubbornly, crossing your arm. “If you think I’m here to drink with you, then you’re wrong in inviting me out.”

The demon lets out a long breath, flipping his hair. “So serious….” You hear him mutter flippantly before he addresses you again. “Fine, fine…” He takes the bottle and pops the cork off, filling his glass generously. “It took a while, only because his signature aura was so convoluted given the state he’s in. So I lost his trail a couple of times.”

“But you found him right?” It comes out in one rushed breath. You’re leaning expectantly towards him and the pressure of your gaze is so heavy that it makes Jungkook shift a little. He clears his throat, taking a sip from his drink again and then goes digging into his pocket. From it, he produces a folded slip of paper, holding it between two fingers to show you before sliding it across the smooth marble towards your direction.

“Lucky you, he didn’t stray very far – turns out he’s got a place not far from here; one of those fancy new penthouse apartments.” You hear him scoffing in bemusement, “He can be on his death bed and the bastard still won’t let go of his expensive taste.”

The slip reveals an address when you unfold it, messily scrawled in blue ink. You stare at it, not believing that the whereabouts of Jimin is now sitting in the palm of your hand. It makes seeing him tangible again instead of the hopeful prayer you’ve been clinging onto for the past days. For once, you feel confident that you have a fighting chance now.

“….Thank you.” You whisper to Jungkook, clutching at the piece of paper, afraid that it would vanish at any moment. “You have no idea how much this means to me, I really owe you with this one.”

The sincerity and reverence in your voice catches Jungkook off guard, so much so that he doesn’t know what to do with himself for a short second, hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck as he avoids meeting your eyes. He settles to grab a hold of his glass.

“Yeah, well you better 'cus I had my work cut out for me.” He mumbles around the rim before taking a hearty sip. You bite down a small smile, catching a glimpse of redness tinging the tips of his ears, made more noticeable thanks to having his hair pulled up into a bun. After swallowing his drink, Jungkook speaks up, shifting the topic back to you as he asks, “So what’s your plan?”

“I’m going to confront him.” You reply assertively.

“Like, right now?”

“Well, yes. At this point, I’m done waiting.”

The demon barks out a laugh, head thrown back at your sheer determination. He nods along, agreeing with you as he gestures to your still untouched glass.

“Then drink up poppet, you’re probably gonna need the extra boost.”

You eye the glass of expensive whiskey uncertainly, having wanted to keep a clear head when you see Jimin in order to get across everything you have pent up inside you but at the same time, you’re shaking with so much anxiety that you can barely think, let alone hope to articulate your feelings properly.

Maybe just a sip or two, you decide, reaching out to take the glass which seems to satisfy Jungkook. He holds his up in cheers, a playful smirk playing on his lips.

“To love, which conquers all.”

The groan slips out loudly and you bury your face in your hands, embarrassment taking over every part of your being. “Oh my God no….”

Jungkook’s cackling doesn’t help, much too deafening in the quiet atmosphere of the lounge that you just want to leave as soon as possible. You get in three sips before you can’t take the burning anymore and promptly ask for a glass of water.

Though it was just three sips, you feel the liquor coursing through your body, warming your veins with the liquid courage you need as you watch the numbers climb on the elevator. After making a quick exit from the lounge, Jungkook had so graciously offered to walk you to the high-rise apartment, getting you past security with ease (must be a demon charm thing) and leaving you at the mirrored elevators.

“As much as I would love to see you drag him through the dirt, it’s never a good idea to be caught in the crossfire of a lover’s quarrel.”

He’d said before walking off, throwing you a two fingered salute over his shoulder.

And now here you are, alone and with sweaty palms as the elevator finally chimes, letting you know that you’ve reached your destination; PH58.

You step out into the hallway, peering around and taking in the deep mahogany walls that perfectly accents the white marble floors and neutral beige and brown decor, giving a very chic, modern look. There are only two doors located on either ends of the hallway, both the same deep wooden colour as the hallway – the one you’re looking for is to the farthest left; PH58A.

Your heart is racing as your eyes lock onto the gold plated number and you feel like you had to force your legs to move, steps heavy the closer you get. You can’t believe this is it, after so much chasing and wondering, the person you’ve been looking for all this time is just behind this door.You close your eyes, steeling your nerves, then raising your fist, you give three firm raps.

You wait with baited breath.

But after a minute and a half, the door remains unopened.

You try again, and wait once more.

….

Yet still, nothing.

Brows furrowed, you begin to question whether or not this was the right address but a quick glance at the slip of paper Jungkook handed to you proves that you are. Was he out at the moment? You take out your phone and dial his number, pressing your ear close to the door and listen. It’s a long shot but you’re willing to try anything at this point.

It rings once on your end, then twice…

And that’s when you hear it, the unmistakeable rumble of a phone set onto a table. The buzzing lasts for a short second, however, it’s all that’s needed to have you straighten up with a renewed zeal.

“I know you’re in there.” You say loud and clear, not caring if you might potentially disturb the only other tenant in the vicinity. “So there’s no point in hiding from me anymore because I know everything.”

Silence.

It rings louder than your words and slowly, your temper flares to life, rearing its ugly head.

“Listen, I don’t care what you were thinking, I deserve an explanation in all of this from you and if you’re just going to be a… a self-sacrificing jerk about this! Then – !” Your voice steadily grows louder, all sense of maintaining some semblance of level-headedness thrown out the window and pushed to the brink of your wit’s end, you shout mindlessly, “I’m never talking to you again!”

The door suddenly snaps open and you nearly choke on the gasp the rushes out, startled. Your eyes dart to the figure standing in between the gap and immediately they widen upon seeing who it is.

Jimin’s shock mirrors your own, obsidian eyes boring into you as if not believing you were there standing in front of him either and for a moment you get lost taking each other in.

He is still breathtaking in every sense; dark raven locks swept off his forehead, slightly damp as if he had just showered, the ends of his fringes grazing delicately over his eyes – longer than what you had remembered. He’s dressed in a simple white t-shirt that’s distractingly thin with the neckline dipping so dangerously low that you can’t help but let your eyes trace over the smooth expanse of his clavicle and sternum exposed to you as well as black jeans that never fail to hug his thighs in all the right places with cuts just above the knees, revealing more skin than you can handle right now.

But as you drag your eyes away and to his face, you notice the pallor of his skin has significantly lost its glow, the paleness turning his flawless complexion lifeless, almost cold. Dead. The ashen bruises under his eyes are more noticeable now and the more you look, the more you’re convinced that he might’ve lost weight too; his face slimmer and jawline more prominent to you. An ache blooms in your chest then, muting the resentment briefly.

He looks exhausted, more than you’ve ever seen him before.

And your heart is breaking seeing him like this.

“Cherub…” Jimin breathes in disbelief, the tiredness reflecting even in his voice. “How…”

Like a spell being broken, you break from the trance that’s taken over you and you surge forward.

“You – !”

Caught off guard, Jimin steps back into the foyer of his apartment but you follow after him with a fierceness, driven by the storm of emotion tearing through you right now.

“You fucking asshole!” You continue to lash out, hands flying at him and you land a push that forces him back again. You’re relentless in your pursuit, hate that you’re reduced to pushing and shoving because the words come out in broken pieces, barely formulated enough express the fraction of the hurt you feel because of him. He catches your wrists as you go in for another hit.

“Y/N – ”

You rip away from his grasp easily, flinging your bag to the ground in the process but that’s the least of your concerns as your eyes are trained on him.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?!” You shout, shoulders heaving. “Were you ever going to tell me truth?!”

“Y/N, what are you – ” Jimin struggles, confused at having not expected you to find him.

“Were you ever going to tell me that you’re trying to become a guardian angel?!”

He freezes, like a deer caught in the headlights but as your words finally sink in, his eyes slip shut and he brings a hand to run through his hair, sighing.

“Was it Jungkook?”

“Does it matter?” You spit back. “What matters is that you hid this from me!”

“I was going to tell you once I transitioned.”

“And what if you didn’t?!”

“Wow, I love the amount of faith you have in me….”

“That’s not what this is about!” You yell, body heating up and trembling from the intensity, “Do you not see yourself?! How can you risk your life doing this and not tell me anything?!”

“And performing a demon summoning ritual isn’t putting your life at risk?” He argues with a hard gaze. “If I hadn’t found you on time, you would’ve been killed!”

“I wouldn’t have done it if you had just told me what the fuck was going on!” You snap back just as quick.

“I was trying to protect you!” He finally confesses, voice rising to match yours in volume, his own distress peaking. “I wasn’t going to risk anything more than I need to. If I have to put my life on the line in order to guarantee your safety then I don’t care.”

“BUT I DO!”

Your words resonate loudly throughout the room, reaching to a pitch that has it ringing in your own ears. It felt like time itself had come to a stand still with the way Jimin is frozen in stunned silence. You’ve never been one to scream during a confrontation, hadn’t counted yourself as the type but you suppose this is your first time being pushed to the extremes of your limit. When neither of you speak, you take in a ragged breath.

“Did you think I wasn’t going to notice that something was wrong?” You ask, voice hoarse and breaking from the emotional and physical stress. “That I was going to sit around and do nothing?”

Jimin swallows thickly, suddenly unable to meet your eyes and you see his jaw tick. After a pause, he admits quietly. “….I can’t protect you, Y/N. Not the way an angel can because demons aren’t meant for it – I’d only end up hurting you if I try.”

“Hurting me?” You scoff at the audacity. “You thought avoiding me, ignoring my calls and texts with no explanation wasn’t going to hurt me? You didn’t think that if you – ” You choke, and you had to fight to get the next few words out. “If you died because of me, I wouldn’t be hurt?”

He says nothing in response, can’t hope to because any words die on his tongue at the sight of you. He thinks this is the second time he’s seen you like this – distraught with glassy eyes wet with unshed tears – the first being that night when he had showed up bleeding on your bedroom floor. It makes him want to reach out, to hold you and brush away those tears before they fall but the guilt keeps him where he is, away from you.

Yet despite how close you are to breaking, there’s a quiet determination that’s ignited in you and it’s what dares you to take a step closer to him.

You’re not going to run. Not from this, not from him.

“You might look like Jimin, might sound like him and I might’ve watched hundreds of videos of him…..But I don’t know him….” You say, shaking your head. “I don’t know Jimin.” And your next words you say with a softness so tender that it’s heartbreaking to hear. “But I know you.”

The way you’re so sure of every step you’re taking makes him withdraw back. His mind is at war with itself; he knows he shouldn’t let you come this close, afraid of what he might end up doing when he feels what little self-control he has left slipping away, like sand between his fingers. It was so much easier with you hitting and screaming at him.

Jimin feels the sofa hit the back of his thighs. You keep going.

“I know you won’t hurt me without meaning to.”

“Y/N…Don’t –”

It’s a feeble attempt; he knows it’s no use, not when there was no meaning put behind those words. He can smell you now, your scent overwhelming and tempting, and it further empowers his traitorous heart. When he swallows, he swears he can taste you.

He’s losing focus, his senses being filled with nothing but you.

“If you think you can scare me by saying that, you’re wrong.”

You tentatively reach out, waiting to see if he’ll turn you away but all he does is watch you entranced, to see what you’ll do next. Gently, you place your palm against his cheek.

Jimin inhales sharply at the touch, melting at the warmth against his chilled, clammy skin. He can feel himself come alive again, the dull constant ache of his body soothed for the first time, and his eyes flutter shut. He looks so serene this way and your heart squeezes, wanting to offer more solace. To let him know that he has you. You lean in until your foreheads touch and you feel the light caress of his breath brush against your cheeks and lashes.

“So I don’t need you to be a guardian angel. All I need is for you to stay beside me just as you are, like you always have.”

Muted crimson eyes are suddenly peering at you through a half-lidded gaze, the colour dulled but they bore into you intensely. There’s a flurry of emotions flitting through them as they flicker over your face, searching for any traces of hesitation yet finding none. Your willingness astounds him, and he’s almost afraid that it’s all a delusion conjured up from his carnal desires. But you mean to prove him wrong the moment you catch his eyes lingering on your lips.

The first brush was as light as a butterfly’s wing, chaste and soft, but it’s enough to subdue him completely, bring him to his knees and have him craving you like a starved man in the middle of a dessert. The moment seems to last too shortly for him. Even when you barely part away, Jimin mourns at the lost of contact.

“Stay with me?” You whisper.

He answers by closing the gap between you again, pressing firmly this time and sealing the words against your lips. You sigh out and he swallows the sweet sound, finally getting to savour the taste of you. Like taking the first bite of the forbidden fruit, the newfound hunger takes over, consuming him.

And he gives into the lust, leaving him wanting more.

#guardian demon!jimin #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin reader insert #jimin fanfic #jimin fic #jimin scenario #jimin scenarios #jimin fanfics #bts supernatural au #jimin fics #jimin fluff #bts jimin fanfic #bts jimin imagines #jimin imagines #jimin x mc

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wrenhyperfixates · 4 years ago

Text

Of All the Places

Chapter 13

Pairing: Loki x reader Series Summary: Washing up in a small town in Oklahoma was definitely not part of Loki’s plan when he came to conquer Midgard. There is one good thing about it, though: No one recognizes him as the one who just wreaked havoc in New York. So, Loki plans to recover from the battle and move on with his life. The only problem? He’s not sure he can leave you. Chapter Summary: Still in the custody of SHIELD, Loki hears some troubling news from his brother. He can only hope that there relationship is repaired enough to be allowed to help set things right. Chapter Warnings: pretty dialogue heavy A/N: Not too much happens in this one, but it’s setting up for the grand finale! The last chapter and epilogue will both be posted next week, so keep your eyes peeled. Updates every Friday. Enjoy :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @marvelousdaydreams @parkastoria @lokistan @thelokiimaginechroniclesficrecs @sourpatchspinster @gaitwae

✥ Start at Beginning ✥ | ← Previous Chapter | Next Chapter →

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

“And why in the Nine not?” Loki demanded of his brother, desperate to know why he wouldn’t be set free. “You said you believed me. Even after all this, was it still not true?”

“Of course it is true, but father will not allow it,” Thor explained, unable to mask the hurt in his voice. “He still demands you be brought back to Asgard.”

Loki frowned at that. If Odin had plans for him, he doubted he could weasel out of them. He wondered if you would ever find out what happened to him if he died. Probably not. Put up against the possibility of being made to live out his many years without ever hearing from you again, death seemed like the merciful option. He couldn’t handle any more torture and being kept from you would be the worst he’d gone through yet. Though the thought of you with anyone else, especially Denzel, made Loki’s stomach roil, he would rather that than you be lonely. Hopefully, you could be happy without him, even if he could not without you.

“Loki, I will speak with him. It will be alright, brother,” Thor assured him.

“So when do we leave?” Loki asked, trying to make himself numb to the pain he was feeling. He dared not hope that his brother could set everything right.

“As soon as you are cleared to leave Midgard.”

“May I make a request?”

“With all due respect, Reindeer Games,” Stark added, though the question was most obviously not addressed to him, “I don’t think you’re in the position for that.”

“I will hear you out, Loki,” Thor said, making no comment on Tony’s remark. “I cannot promise anything more than that.”

“I understand,” Loki anxiously agreed. “The family I was staying with, I do not need to see them again, but may I have some news on them before we go? Just to know they are alright?”

“I have already given you my word that no harm will come to them.”

“I am aware, but-”

Loki was cut off by the door swinging open. The young agent made a beeline for Fury, who was standing there observing the scene with his one good eye, making no remarks of his own. The God of Mischief arched an eyebrow as the agent whispered something in the director’s ear before the two walked outside.

“I’m still wondering why you care so much about a random family from Oklahoma,” Tony said. “What were you even doing there in the first place?”

“I must confess, it was not originally my choice. When I used the Tesseract to escape, I told it to take me somewhere safe,” Loki recounted. “I have not the slightest clue as to why it chose there.”

“Well, that explains how you got there, but why’d you stay?”

“I was,” Loki responded, clearing his throat, “persuaded.”

“In what way?” Thor puzzled.

“They did not know who I truly was, so they welcomed me with open arms,” Loki sighed. “I suppose I... I bonded with a few of them.”

“Yeah, they did all give glowing reviews of you,” Tony said.

“Wait. So you have heard from them? How are they? You must tell me. How is... everyone?”

Loki would not yet risk showing he had any particularly special connection with you, lest it put you in any more danger than you were already in. Thor and Tony exchanged a look, though, that said they could tell he wanted to know about a specific member. He hoped you hadn’t had to tell the agents too many details about your relationship. Somehow, it seemed like a mortifying prospect for them to know such a personal thing. Especially his brother. He was not yet ready for another heart to heart.

“They are all fine,” Thor hesitantly said. “Brother, I don’t suppose you bonded with one of them more than the others. Say, as something more than a friend. You can tell me, you know.”

Yup, Loki was right. Absolutely mortifying. Back on Asgard, he and his brother never really talked about relationships. Their own was already too far gone by the time they reached an age where they thought much about it. The trickster god still remembered his first kiss. It was with one of the palace stable boys. He’d even started riding more just to have an excuse to go and see him. Of course, Odin found out and deemed it improper. Loki never did find out exactly what had happened to him, but he remembered wanting to go and talk to Thor about it. Needless to say, he didn’t. But maybe, just maybe, this was an opportunity to make up for that. So, against his better judgement, Loki told Thor of his special connection with you, though not to the full extent out of the desire to still guard his emotions. Unfortunately, that meant Stark heard, too.

“Not a word out of you,” Loki menaced as Tony opened his mouth. Thankfully, he backed off, putting his hands up in surrender. “Thor, please tell me that they are alright. If they were hurt because of me... Well, just tell me how they are.”

“They are a little shaken up, I will admit, but they are ok. Safe. As I have already said, you have my word that they will remain that way.”

Loki choked out his thanks before Fury burst back into the room. That man was so unreadable that Loki couldn’t make out a single damn expression on his face. How he wished he could have that talent to be so guarded again, but once the floodgates were opened the first time, he never could quite get them closed again. Regardless, the raven haired man knew something was up—something bad. It was the same feeling he’d gotten the day prior, and look where he ended up. But he couldn’t be apprehended by SHIELD again, so now it was back to the question of what. But deep down, he knew. He whispered your voice so low that only Thor heard, and the thunder god shot his brother a concerned glance. Before he could say anything, though, Fury spoke.

“I need your asses out here now,” he said, addressing the two Avengers. “It’s urgent.”

“Wait, brother,” Loki called before he could exit. “I feel in my gut that there is something very bad happening to my beloved. You will tell me if that is the case, correct?”

“I do not know if that is wise.” Thor looked like he was thinking very hard, brows furrowed in concentration. The desperate, pleading look written plainly on Loki’s face must have convinced him because he finally relented. “But yes, I will. As soon as I can.”

Loki gave a quick nod of gratitude before Thor left again. Now that he was left alone in the room, there was very little stopping him from descending into a full on panic. If you were in any sort of trouble, it was undoubtedly his fault. He never should have done that to you. Then again, if he hadn’t stayed around you for so long, he would still be being crushed by the weight of loneliness. His heart would still be fractured. Perhaps it would have been better than having you violently ripped away from him, though. He feared this cycle of guilt and hypotheticals would never end.

He wasn’t sure if it was minutes, hours, or only mere seconds that passed before Thor was coming back in, but he was relieved to see him. After all, his thoughts were a very scary thing to be trapped with. Even scarier was the deeply worried expression upon Thor’s face.

“Brother?” Loki asked, though he was more nervous for the answer than he ever imagined possible.

“The Chitauri. They are back.”

“In New York? But you closed the portal, did you not?” A sickeningly horrifying idea occurred to Loki, and he swallowed thickly. “Is it Thanos? Has he returned? If he is here to make good on is threats to me, then I beg you, brother, just turn me over. It will be easiest, safest, for everyone.”

“If you think for one moment that I will allow that, you are further out of your mind than I suspected,” Thor raged. Loki was shocked into silence. Never before had Thor yelled at him like that. Sure, he’d shouted at him, but it was always because he was angry at him, or because he was pinning the blame for something on Loki. Not because he cared about him. Thor calmed himself down a bit before he continued explaining the situation. “The portal is still closed. We just did not actually round up all the ones that had already come through, apparently. And, they are not in New York, either.”

“Then where?”

Thor looked nervously around the room. “It hardly matters, brother. You will not be able to come.”

“Thor, where?” Loki growled.

“Oklahoma City.”

Loki sucked in a sharp breath and went pale as a ghost. There was only one logical explanation as to why they would be there of all places. Him. They must have tracked him somehow and were there to get revenge. But he wasn’t there anymore, thanks to SHIELD. And if they truly were tracking him, they wouldn’t stop at the city. They would keep going until they reached your farm. Until they reached you.

“Let me go. I can stop this.”

“Were you not listening to what I just said? You cannot come.”

“Brother, please,” Loki whispered, “I beg of you, just let me take care of this. What if it was your mortal who was in danger? You would stop at nothing to save her, I know. That is how I feel, except it is not only the one I care so dearly about. Yes, there is my beloved, and I would die a thousand deaths for them, but it is their whole family, too. I would give my life to keep them out of danger.”

“Thor,” Captain Rogers said, appearing in the door. “We have to hurry.”

“I am sorry, brother,” Thor told Loki before turning away. There was some look in his eye that Loki did not get a good enough look at to place, but he was certain he was trying to tell him something with it. Regardless, he turned and left. “I am coming, Captain.”

Helplessly tugging at the chains holding him to the table, Loki began to hyperventilate. He started cursing himself. If only he were a stronger sorcerer, then maybe these chains couldn’t restrain his magic. If only he hadn’t become so bitter and hopeless, then maybe he never would have let go on the Bifröst. If only his will wasn’t so weak, then maybe Thanos never would have gotten him to attack Midgard in the first place.

He gave up the futile struggle as the blinding anxiety slowly faded. Letting his head drop into his hands, Loki allowed himself a few quiet sobs before trying to clear his head. He needed a plan. For so long, he was ten steps ahead of everyone, but now? Now he was about a hundred miles behind, locked in a room, unable to protect you. But, no. He wouldn’t give up. He was going to get out. He only needed to think. Surely there were still some cards to play, right?

“Psst, brother.”

He looked up to see Thor sneaking back into the room. Maybe this was a hallucination. It was quite possible that he’d finally cracked under the never-ending pressure. Because, really, when had the God of Thunder ever done anything like this before? Though, the fact that he was unlocking the cuffs did seem to be in favor of the idea that this was a jail break.

“What are you doing?” Loki hissed, rubbing his now freed wrists, still not entirely trusting this wasn’t a trap.

“Is it not obvious? I’m freeing you.”

“Well, how daring of you, brother. I admit, I did not think you had it in you.”

“Yes, well, I can see how much you truly love your little Midgardian.”

“Nonsense. It is like I said, I am concerned for all of them. They did, after all, take care of me.”

“Oh, yes. I am sure that is it.”

Loki just rolled his eyes and made his way over to the exit. Almost every instinct in him was screaming to just teleport away from the scene, get to you as fast he could. The thing stopping him was that for once in a very long time, Thor wasn’t dismissing him. In fact, he was trusting him. He couldn’t just turn his back and betray that now, not if he had any hope of getting their brotherly bond back.

Banner was standing right outside the door as Loki opened it, making him jump a little. Before he could whip out a weapon, though, Thor was reassuring Loki that he was just standing guard during the break out. It was quite the strategic move, Loki thought, to have the one Avenger who could really do damage to him be right outside the door. Perhaps he wasn’t giving his brother enough credit. Or perhaps there were just others involved in this scheme.

Sure enough, after dodging a number of agents, the rest of Thor’s friends were waiting in the Quinjet. The tension in the air was palpable as they stood there in silence, sizing each other up. It was obvious Thor wanted to say something to get them all amicably chatting, but knew whatever he was going to say would probably just make things worse. Though the very idea made him gag, Loki knew what he must do if he wanted to reach you in time.

“I apologize,” he said, trying to make it sound completely sincere. “I know that I have hurt some of you—all of you—in some way. I cannot erase the past, but I am trying to do the right thing now. I was not in my right mind the first time we met. Let me prove that now.”

The Avengers all made eye contact with each other, communicating without words. It was agony waiting for their approval, both because he was anxious just to get to you, and it was sickening to have to be judged by them in such a way. Knowing that it was his only opportunity of helping you without complications, however, he waited with bated breath for their reply.

“Ok,” Romanoff finally spoke up. “We forgive you. For now, anyway. Right now, we have to get to Oklahoma.”

“Yes. Please, let us be on our way now,” Loki urged.

And that’s how the God of Mischief ended up flying around with the Avengers. At least he wasn’t chained up like the last time. It was, though, perhaps the most tense situation he’d ever been in. But it didn’t matter, not now. No, now he was on his way, and there was only one thing in his mind, repeating over and over like that one song lyric you can’t get of your head.

He was going to save you.

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itsclydebitches · 4 years ago

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Hey Clyde! I'm not sure if you've been asked this before but why do you think the writers chose to have Cinder... cry? One one hand, I thought that scene was supposed to be a breaking point but on the other (and looking at the following episodes), did she cry to guilt Watts into helping her? I was already a little confused with that choice before but now I'm even more so.

Hey there, anon!

Yeah, it’s a messy scene, more because of what happens after it than because of the scene itself. No, I personally don’t think this was a calculated move to get Watts to help her. We could delve into whether Cinder is currently the kind of character to pull off a manipulation like that — I’d say not — but the main takeaway is that she doesn’t need to do that. Watts is ready and willing to get back to work, together.

Well, the others may or may not be dead, but Salem will definitely be back and until she returns we need to figure out what to do. Cinder has no motivation for convincing Watts to work with her because Watts is already willing. It’s only when she starts suggesting more idiotic, ill-thought out “plans” that he tells her precisely why she’s failed in the past, but even post-death threat he doesn’t express any reluctance about working with her. Watts doesn’t say a thing between getting dropped back on the roof and Cinder shedding that tear.

We admittedly do get some kind of emotion from Watts after he’s brought back onto the roof, but I read that more as a, “Holy shit I nearly died” reaction and not a “Oh no I’ve hurt Cinder’s feelings” one. If he was at all moved by her crying, he doesn’t show it. Watts doesn’t care. He said what he said and he stands by it.

Rather, I lean more towards that first reading: “I thought that scene was supposed to be a breaking point.” Other critics were right to point out that Watts’ general accusations of her never having a plan/working with others are ridiculous — we watched whole seasons of Cinder weaving intricate (by RWBY’s standards) plans with the White Fang and Roman — but he’s right that she’s a mess now. Between throwing herself at Raven and then throwing herself at Penny, her “plan” of “Just be more powerful and win” is garbage. It’s not enough to be strong, you have to be smart too, and for the first time since Volume 3, Cinder seems to get that. This is also the volume where we get her backstory, a flashback to a time when she was powerless, and if we’re seeing those memories now, it stands to reason it’s because Cinder is thinking about them now. That was her past and, wouldn’t you know, it looks a lot like her present. She’s tortured by Salem, failing to seize the power she wants, and now Watts lays it all out in one neat, vicious package. He’s right. I’m a failure. Cue collapsing on the roof and having that dam break a bit in the form of a single tear.

I, personally, was really intrigued by this development, simply because Cinder lacks development. The concept of her re-acquiring the patience and intellect she had in earlier volumes after regressing was a good one. Here’s a woman who craves power, finally achieved some (Amber’s Maiden powers), and in doing so expected everything else in her life to fall into place. When it didn’t — when she was still losing fights and remained under Salem’s thumb — she devolved into an impatient, crazed villain, creating a cycle where she was bound to continue losing so long as she acted this way. Watts’ accusations finally snap her out of that, with the added bonus of this “friendship is power” theme. RWBY strongly pushes that only those who work together can hope to succeed (Salem wants to divide, the Ace Ops supposedly couldn’t work as a team well enough to beat Team RWBY, etc.) and now here was Cinder re-learning how to rely on her allies. No more trying to shake Emerald when she wants to help attack Penny, no more ignoring Watts’ “we need a plan” to run off after the powers on her own, Cinder is finally ready to play smart again and that’s achieved largely though having a team she can also rely on, just like she did back in Volumes 1-3. That time when she won. If Team RWBY wins because they support and love one another, what’s going to happen if the villains start, well, not loving one another, but becoming evil friends? Why, they should become quite the force to reckoned with! And that’s presumably what we saw in Atlas’ HQs: Neo, Cinder, and Watts enjoying being evil together. They’re trading compliments, Neo is skipping through dead bodies... the villains that work together win together.

The problem is... absolutely nothing comes of this. Cinder doesn’t actually get smarter, everyone else just gets dumber. This entire plan hinges on snagging the Relic and the Relic, in turn, hinges on Neo. Does Cinder do anything to trick or convince Neo that she’s truly reliable this time? No, Neo just goes stupid and hands over the Relic. Again. So Jinn gives Cinder all the information she needs and after things actually go well via teamwork — Cinder distracts Team RWBY while Neo sneaks up — she destroys that advantage by kicking Neo off the edge and burning Watts. Cinder’s success doesn’t even last a whole episode. Sure, she gets away with the Relics, but what she actually wanted, the Maiden power, is lost to her because it ended up being a 3v1 battle. If only Neo was around to fight Weiss while Cinder went after Penny! Funny how you self-sabotaged yourself. Again.

This scene, like so much in RWBY, is fine on its own, but falls apart as the story progresses. Cinder’s revelation didn’t actually change her character, so fans are right to ask, “What was the point?” Well, the answer is that the point was lost, what the scene set up was quickly dropped, but the other way to approach this is to assume there must be a different point to the scene. Enter the “Cinder is sympathetic” reading. I’m not going to deny that this exists regardless of what else we might take away from the moment — it’s hard to have any villain cry on screen and not question how much we’re supposed to feel for them. That’s something I’ve criticized regarding Raven — but some fans have come to the conclusion that this is the scene’s only purpose. Which, when the story drops the other purpose, makes a certain amount of sense. This volume we watched Hazel suddenly sacrifice himself for the boy he was torturing, Emerald get buddy with the girl she was just trying to murder, and Ironwood go full, evil spotlight villain. Volume 8 made HUGE missteps when it came to flipping the moral divide, with the villains suddenly meant to be friends and the friends (including the Ace Ops) meant to be villains. It’s understandable that fans would wonder if Cinder is meant to be a part of that flip. Did you include her crying solely to try and convince me she’s not that bad? At least, not as bad as the evil Ironwood? And many fans are, rightly, upset about this attempt to pull on their heartstrings. Regardless of what else that scene might have been attempting to do — whether this really was setup for Cinder’s development that the show failed to follow through on — we can’t ignore the inherent problems in spending this much time (crying + backstory) making an unambiguous villain look all woobie, while simultaneously avoiding that work in the previously morally gray/heroic characters. Which isn’t to say you shouldn’t have sympathetic villains, that you shouldn’t introduce that nuance, but rather that RWBY is developing an awful habit of putting that work towards the wrong characters. Everything in a story is interconnected, so it’s frustrating to watch Cinder cry and go, “Wait, am I supposed to feel bad for her when she is, essentially, crying over her failure to kill the heroes?” while simultaneously watching a show that, when a former hero was maimed, betrayed, and facing an impossible decision went, “Nah. You shouldn’t feel bad for this asshole at all. He’s evil.” Which is it, RWBY? Why am I encouraged to feel for the Definitely Bad characters, but discouraged from feeling for the Morally Ambiguous ones? There’s a disconnect here which encourages fans to approach the scene with a less than charitable eye. Cinder’s scene appears to be doing at least two different things, both as a means of developing her character, but between what happens later in the volume and how other characters are handled in comparison to her, both attempts fall flat.

#rwby #mymetas #Anonymous

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off-in-the-moors · 4 years ago

Text

Joseph Kavinsky analysis, part 1

aka how did I get here and why is he the reason

Warnings: spoilers for the whole Raven Cycle, mentions of: drug-use, abuse, death, murder, homophobic slurs, xenophobia

Part 1 // Part 2

After finishing The Raven Cycle and analyzing every chapter, character and the overarching plot with my friend, we were left feeling empty. It's been few months, I kept looking-up more TRC related things, other people's opinions, look through fandom content and even read some post from the author's, now deleted, tumblr account, trying to find answers to why I'm feeling like this. Why the books seem to decline for me in quality as I kept reading? Why I can't see Ronan in the same light as the rest of the fandom? Why I couldn't like the author? And the answer was looking me in the eyes the whole time.

"Depending on where you began the story, it was about Joseph Kavinsky."

I loved his character from the moment we met him in The Dream Thieves and still think about him to this day. But why? In a way, Kavinsky is too familiar to me, from his attitude, through appearance to his voice. It’s like I knew him, and this isn’t surprising. I met/saw Kavinskys on the streets, I know Kavinskys, and I was a Kavinsky once in my life. Although I'm the opposed to him, I still sympathies with him and understand how it feels to be in dark places in your life. And I'm not the only one, many people adore him and don't deny his actions to be terrible. But on the other side, the majority of fans hates him and titles him "the worst/most evil antagonist of the series". But why? What about K makes him so polarizing? The simple answer is: the way he was presented and the function he played in the plot. Even then, K's whole arc in TDT was handled horribly and damaged the way readers will view, not only people like K but also themselves. This and also future posts, I’ll be analyzing everything relied to K, including his treatment after book's release by the author and what some deleted scenes and unused ending can shine on.

This is part 1 of a series of posts to come.

This part is about the narrative and characters views of Kavinsky.

Narrative and characters

Narrative is a powerful tool of telling a story, well crafted and coupled with character's internal-voice makes the reader view the story under different light. In a PoV of one character, one thing might bring-up different emotions and ideas, than the others. Exploring relationships and events differ, because everybody experience it differently. But problem begins when the narrative forces a reader to a opinion, without backing it up with reasons or giving a opposing one. In case of Joseph Kavinsky, before we properly meet him, we are told by the characters to hate him and the narrative backs them up in reasons to hate him. All the reasons given to us at that time, boil down to "I heard a rumor."

Gansey hates him, because "There was nothing about Kavinsky that wasn’t despicable" and "he thinks life is a music video". He doesn't want Ronan to associated with him, which is connected with him covering and getting Ronan's ass for the mess he made, having him project his anger and frustration he has with Ronan on to K, who part-takes in the same activities and probably with Ronan, is understandable. But I didn't expect much from a guy who: payed the school officials so they won't kick Ronan out; insulted Adam and throw Adam’s abuse at his face, just to instant of apologizing to him, make a pity party for himself (also having Adam apologies to Gansey for his rightful outburst isn't okay), is fine with having a romantic relationship with Blue while she's still with Adam, hurting him even further but makes it all about himself, etc. Him hating K, just because of his lifestyle, made sense. But were the line was crossed, was when he started to decide on other people's worth. Lines like "we matter" (on which I'll extend later in the post) or "Ronan is fixable and has a soul [Kavinsky doesn't]", were used not only to show what Gansey himself thinks of K (he isn't a human being to him), but also demonize K and make the reader not consider him an equal to the Gangsey (a teenage).

Blue hates him, because he's yet another Raven Boy. Her hatred comes mostly from her distance for them, rich boys with privilege to which Gansey gang is an exception (although two out of four are exactly the kind she hates, and she told Noah directly she wouldn't be friends with him if he was alive) (There can be made a whole post about Blue's hypocrites regarding Raven Boys, but this isn't it). She also talks about how she doesn't feel comfortable around K and "if she couldn’t forgive Kavinsky for always managing to make her feel so insignificant", which makes sense. But while describing him, she calls him "a import from somewhere else", not only lessening him as a person but also making a xenophobic comment, noting his long nose as one of the factors (you could say, she meant him being from New Jersey, but you don't "import" stuff from inside a country, you only "import" from abroad and K is Bulgarian, doesn't matter if he's an immigrant or just has Bulgarian roots). Later, while discussing what to do with K draining the ley lines, Greyman offers to talk to him, to which Blue asks him "can you make him feel worthless while you do?”. Yes, she asked a hit-man, who killed not only Niall Lynch but also multiple people (including three on pages, which was described in the case of the ones breaking into Montmouth) for money. (Yes, fans say it's fine he murdered Niall, because he was a dick and horrible father, but what we forget is that it wasn't a fast death. It was slow and brutal, having him bludgeoned to send a message to Declan. No "he was a weapon in Greenmatle's hand" can excuse it.). Plus, he beat-up and threatened Declan with a gun if he doesn't give him the Greywaren. "Making him feel worthless" can only mean the worst. Kavinsky was a asshole, but he didn't deserved that. Also Blue gives the idea to give Kavisnky to the Greyman instant of Ronan, which was shot down, but not because it's horrible, inhuman and they can't decide on someone else's life, but because they think Greenmantle's people will come back also for Ronan. They were ok, with K being basically a scapegoat so Ronan will live.

Adam just "hates that prick" and "looked at the table with a studied disinterest" when K approached their table at Nino's, those are his only interaction in anything Kavinsky related (In a part regarding the "original" ending, we'll see it wasn't always the case.).

Noah barely exists in the series after The Raven Boys and never comes in contact with K or gives any opinion on him, outside of "ducked his head down into his shoulders, but couldn't take his eyes off the newcomer".

Ronan's relation with K could be its own post all together and there already are some good post about it, but for this one, I'll only mention few things. He gives us a very "I hate him but I'm into this lifestyle" attitude. He races against K but doesn't want to have anything to do with him or he's "dogs". (Yes, Dream Packs canon name is "Kavinsky's pack of dogs" as Ronan calls them. Ironically, Ronan gets angry then Declan and K called him "Gansey's dog" but is fine when Gansey calls him "his dog".) He never thanked or acknowledged K saved his life from the Night Horror. He accepted K's help in dreaming-up the new Pig but afterwords ditches him without even a slit gratefulness (his motivation being remembering Gansey's words), and mocks that K thought there could be anything between them (friendship or relationship, it dependents how you interpret it), turning this into just using K to get what he wanted. And yes, what K did while Ronan slept (tracing Ronan's back tattoo with his finger) was unacceptable, if it really happened and wasn't just phantom-touch while falling asleep (if it was real, it can be interpreted as K acting out of his internalized homophobia, letting himself a moment of “curiosity”, but it still wouldn't make it fine).

Ronan and K insult one-another multiple times through-out the story but the difference is quite showing. K's insults are mostly homophobic, calling Ronan a "fag" or implying Ronan and Gansey are together. This is a typical teenage insults, but are also showing of K's internalized homophobia if viewed through "Don’t say Dick Gansey, man. Do not say it. He is never going to be with you. And don’t me tell you don’t swing that way, man. I’m in your head." and "It's a bomb. Just like you." scenes.

But Ronan, excepting the typical insults like "ball-sack", goes after who K is. "Bulgarian mobster Jersey trash piece of shit" or "Russian" (to the latter, K responded "Hey now, let's not make this ugly") are personal, referring not only to from where K's from, implying he's a mobster like his father and just calling him "a waste". Unfortunately, K's whole character is already one big stereotype of Slavs as viewed not only by Americans. But insulting someone for being "Bulgarian", something they had no control over, is xenophobic. (And for "Russian", as a Slav myself, let me tell you. Calling a non-Russian Slav "Russian" is a quick way to get on their bad side.) And if you're like "Ronan isn't xenophobic, because he's Irish" or "Maggie isn't xenophobic, because Ronan...", you have no idea how things work in Europe. This is the same argument as "He can't be racist, because he's black". TRC fandom is always ready to bring-up all K's sins and even enlarge them, but when in comes to Ronan, all his sins are either forgotten or excused.

One more thing I want to touch on is one of K's parties. After Monmouth got broken into by people looking for Greywaren (which Greyman broke into first), Gansey thinks it must be Kavinsky's doing, because of the fake ID left in front of the door. Him and Ronan go to K's party, he tells them, it's a substance party and asks where are theirs. As an answer, Ronan hits him in the face and throws through a car, just to show him his blooded knuckles with "This is your substance.". The rest is Gansey and Ronan not believing K, that he didn't trash their place, and a "different Gansey" throwing a Molotov cocktail at K's car. After that, they leave. But one thing isn't sitting right with me. The "This is your substance" is a beloved, may I say iconic, scene that is glorified by fans and cited as this "Ronan is so cool and K soo deserved it" thing.

Here's the thing. K is in full right. It's his party, on his rules. Gansey and Ronan just came from nowhere, probably for the first time, so the rule is stated for them. And Ronan's response? Physically assault K. Even if he's angry about the apartment, still he shouldn't just assault him. And Gansey does nothing. And one more thing: K never hits Ronan back. Not in next chapters, not at the end. Never.

Before the chapter ends, we get probably my most hated line from this book:

"Closing his eyes, Gansey leaned his head back on his seat, chin tilted up, throat green in the dash lights. There was still an unsafe sort of smile about his mouth — what a torment the possibility in that smile was — and he said, “There was never a time when that could’ve been you and me. You know the difference between us and Kavinsky? We matter."

We matter. And he doesn't. I could talk about this line and how damaging it is to people who see themselves in Kavinsky, but instant I'll say, why I hate it.

I have anxiety mixed with being introverted and back-in-the-day I felt isolated from my classmates, desperate for friends but only had toxic ones who dropped me so the popular girls would talk with them, just to be friends with me again after some time, bullied to the point of breaking multiple times, and hating myself for not fitting in, unable to connected with my peers in anyway. The line "we matter" echos my worst fear and thoughts from that time. "Everyone matter, you don't". I was too young to even have those thoughts, but they were always there. In the back of my head, like a recurring nightmare.

Just the idea, someone can say with confidence that someone, anyone, doesn't matter, makes me sick. No one has the inside to what's going on in someones life, to what thought are plaguing their head. Everyone's life matter and to say something like this in a book targeted to 12-18 year olds, who are at there most vulnerable stage, is not only irresponsible but enraging. Gansey is saying this about a guy his age, who is drug-addicted and self-destructive, because he doesn't like him and wants Ronan to stay away from. No one calls him out on it. Not Ronan, not the narrative. Nothing.

Until the kidnapping of Matthew and the paradox/question "did the tattoo tracing scene happened?", Kavinsky did nothing to earn hatred from the reader. He was living his life, being a stupid, reckless teenage boy with a power to get everything he wanted. Ask yourself a question: "If you had the power to pulled anything* from your dreams, wouldn't you go crazy with it? Maybe in a very selfish way?"

* Throughout TRC and CDtH, we see no limit to what a dreamer can pull-out. From a pen or working car, living creatures (animals, copies of real people or purely made-up) to abstract things, like a word with power to animate the dead or an apocalypses.

Yes, K's dreaming drained the ley lines, causing Cabeswater to disappear. But did K knew about it? He knew that he needed to wait for it to recharge before dreaming more things and he did just that. The over-draining was cause by preparations for this Fourth of July party (dreaming many copies of his Mitsubishi) but same did Ronan’s dreaming (but Cabeswater acts as weird gatekeeper, so Ronan seems to be forgiven). But did he knew about Cabeswater? Or furthermore, Glendower? We can't confirm or deny it, but considering K isn't from Henrietta and probably is there only for school, he's there for about 2 years. Would he be interested in some random forest or some Welsh King, which just idea of him being in America is so far fetched to believe in?

No. All he was interested it, was parting and wasting himself away.

We don't get any other or opposing opinions on Kavinsky, only the ones given by Gangsey. They are the outsiders looking in, not having any inside, just rumors and their shallow observations/interactions. But we don't even get any "inside", not from other Raven Boys or even the Dream Pack (who are barely characters). After K's death, the only thing we get is Gangsey's not caring or being glad K's gone. Aglionby is silent and Henrietta, doesn't even acknowledge Fourth of July's Party even happened (but to be honest, the town feels like a theater stage than a living place). The only mentions about K that gives some idea someone noticed anything, was his name alongside Whelk’s and Dittley's in the newspaper at the end of BLLB (but this plot point is never mentioned again).

#joseph kavinsky #anti maggie stiefvater #anti raven cycle #anti trc

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margridarnauds · 4 years ago

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Wishlist for AC: Wrath of the Druids

Because my field is literally only relevant ONCE in a blue moon and I’m making the most of it.

Look, I’d pretend that this is going to be some sort of profound meditation on Irish Mythology, the nature of medieval literature, etc. But no. Here is the list that, after 9 years of studying these texts, 15 months of which have been in an intensive MA program in Ireland, I have come up with as far as “Members of the Tuatha Dé Who Are The Most Slappable.” I’ve also tried to go with the high profile members, since, if Curse of the Pharaohs and Atlantis were any indication, we’re primarily getting the high rollers here. (I would like to make it very clear that I say this with the utmost of affection - I would not have studied these guys for 9 years if I actually HATED them.)

First off, I’m ready and willing to bet money that the Tuatha Dé are going to be controlled by the members of this druid cult mentioned in the adverts, not unlike what we saw in Curse of the Pharaohs. I suspect that the cult will get ahold of an apple of Eden and summon up images of the Tuatha Dé to be a part of their wicked, wicked schemes. A part of me WOULD like for something different, but...well. It’s a proven formula, and why mess with success?

Lugh. One of the most easily recognizable members of the Tuatha Dé, and SUPER slappable. Would make an EXCELLENT final boss, and would guarantee that I would buy it. Like. It is literally impossible to overstate exactly how much I would be willing to buy this game just for the chance to bitchslap Lugh.

The Dagda. Another HIGHLY recognizable member. Not as imminently slappable as Lugh, but a massive thot, and, let’s be real, who DOESN’T want to slutshame the Dagda, at least a little? Albeit this time with. A sword. Also has a SICK staff that can bring people to life/kill them, depending on which side he uses, and canonically has a zombie xylophone. Would make a FANTASTIC boss.

Lugh.

The Morrigan. Look. I don’t WANT to fight the Morrigan, not really. Honestly, of all the Tuatha Dé, I have the most personal respect for her, because she’s very honest about doing her own thing, but do I really think that Ubisoft would pass up the chance for a bloodthirsty raven lady? No I do not. And, tbh, it would be kind of sick.

Lugh.

Cú Chulainn. Is Cú Chulainn one of the Tuatha Dé? No, he isn’t. Is there a hint that he’s anything BUT mortal? Not....really, despite some speculation that he might have been x god or y god, he fits fairly firmly into the demigod mold. That being said....(1) I WOULD like to fight Cú Chulainn, on a personal level (#JusticeForAífe) and (2) .....Look, can you imagine fighting against the warp spasm? Yeah. Yeah. Also, given they made you fight King Tut in the Curse of the Pharaohs DLC, it’s obvious that they’re going off of name recognition more than accuracy, and CC IS easily the most recognizable figure from medieval Irish literature. (Bonus: Fighting CC and getting the Gáe Bulg as a reward?)

Lugh. As Cú Chulainn’s father, it’s only appropriate to get the family combo here.

Midir. Do I think that they WOULD use Midir? No. He’s a little too specialized, even though Tochmarc Étaíne is, arguably, the single most popular of the Mythological Cycle texts. And he is oh so very slappable. That, and he does have a history of fucking with mortals, so he could be a REALLY fun fight. If I was designing the game, I would have him and Óengus in a tag team duo, and there would be horse urine involved. (This is why I do not work at Ubisoft.)

Lugh.

If Midir is too specialized, Bres is REALLY too specialized, along with the fact that, if you bring Bres in, you HAVE to bring the Fomoire in. But also. I’ve got to request my boy. He would be so much FUN. But. Unlikely. He tends towards the obscure side, though, and even when people remember he exists, it tends to be in a very small role. I would put more money on Balor being in, because he’s kind of the breakout star of Cath Maige Tuired (and the folklore around it), but I really want Bres.

Lugh.

Dían Cecht. Grumpiest. Doctor. Ever. And you could do a lot with his whole. “Killing his son”. Thing.

Lugh.

Aillén. A little on the obscure side, but imagine. Fighting a member of the Tuatha Dé who breathes fire. Talk about a BADASS boss fight. Also getting to walk in the footsteps of Fionn mac Cumhaill, aka one of the greatest of Ireland’s heroes. It would be a very tempting prospect.

Lugh.

....look. I want to emphasize this: I do NOT want to slap Bríg. Bríg is quite possibly the purest of the TDD, and that’s because we know next to nothing about her. But also...she IS really high profile, and I could see her acting as a sort of guide or counsellor ala Aletheia. AKA “One of the few sane Isu hanging around.” You could go some really interesting routes there, IF you wanted to. I’m not sure they’d be willing to, but I would personally like it.

The Otherworld as a location you can visit, like Asgard or the Duat. Bonus if it highlights how reality twists and bends in the Otherworld, because some of the leading scholarship on it at the moment says that the place, as it was understood in medieval Ireland, was batshit insane, and I would LOVE to see them taking it on in a game. Bonus for also bringing in Sidhe mounds.

Also. I want to fight Lugh.

Danu - Look. I don’t want to fight Danu. Mainly because Danu, as a figure, doesn’t really EXIST in the myths, as such. The general consensus of the field, at this point, is that the original name for the TDD was....Tuatha Dé, which you’ll note is the term I use. It gets complicated when the name does gain traction, and the question as far as how old some of this goes back is long and extensive and not something I want to tackle at an ungodly hour of the evening, but. I don’t WANT her to be here when there are so many other figures who actually have a presence. But. Well. The cult’s name is “Children of Danu”, so a bitch has got to accept it’s likely. But I’m still putting her at the bottom because I don’t like it.

For what it’s worth, my final guesses are locked in at Lugh, the Dagda, the Morrigan, and finding some way to bring Cú Chulainn in. Nuada might make for a dark horse option, though....I hate to say this, Nuada doesn’t really have the PERSONALITY to really function as a boss on his own. They could try, but I feel like they’d have to either expand quite a bit or riff off of his Early Modern portrayal as a bitter, jealous king, and...I still don’t trust them to have done the research for that. (I’m sorry, but after the Mari Lwyd, they will have to go a LONG way to earn my trust, especially with my baby.) Danu is...likely, but I won’t be happy if she is, even though it won’t make or break my decision. I feel like the Otherworld has GOT to be a lock, but I’m ready and willing to be disappointed. Also, despite this being based allegedly on the Mythological Cycle materials, I would be VERY surprised if they didn’t bring in later folklore like the banshees, because, let’s be real, why wouldn’t they?

#assassin's creed valhalla #ac valhalla #ac: valhalla #irish mythology #celtic mythology #long post #wrath of the druids

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sayuricorner · 4 years ago

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Ever After High x Twisted Wonderland AU Headcanons special 2: EAH overblot forms

Part 8

AU concept

MASTERLIST

Here we go for a second special headcanons! ^^

This second special part will be headcanons about some EAH characters’s overblot forms.

Warning: Depression, anxiety, mental breakdown, abuse and mental abuse, panic attacks, non-con contact.

Blondie Lockes:

->Pre-overblot:

-So before transfering to NRC, Blondie was one of Apple’s victims at EAH when she lost her mind.

-Apple used her to keep an eye on the others students, spying for potential “rivals” who would “try to steal her destiny”.

-She would be harsh with Blondie, being threatening with her, calling her horrible names like telling her she’s just a “pathetic lowlife social climber who’s the others royal keep around just because she’s useful”.

-Blondie keep all this to herself thinking things will be back to normal but as time pass the abuse get worse to the point that Blondie begin to believe that Apple’s poisoned words about her were true.

-When she transfer to NRC, Blondie is a mental wreck: she’s skittish, jumpie, paranoiac and is constently on guard about her actions and what others think of her at a unhealthy rate.

->Overblot:

-More time pass and the more Blondie got worse.

-People at her new dorm, Scarabia, were welcoming and Ashlynn and Hunter were here too but even the welcoming atmosphere can’t prevent her anxiety to getting worst.

-”Am I doing it right? Do they think I’m annoying? I’m not doing anything stupid right? What if I did something I wasn’t supposed to do and they’re angry at me? Why am I so useless?”

-She’s even anxious when around Briar, because of Apple she think that Briar don’t really see her as a friend and see her more like a nuisance.

-Others around her noticed something was off with her and some of the EAH transfers like Briar and Raven and some NRC students like Kalim and Jamil try to talk to her.

-Unfortunatly the discussion get only to Blondie having a severe mental breakdown making her snap and go overblot.

-”SHUT UP SHUT UP! APPLE WAS RIGHT! I AM WORHTLESS! I’M JUST A PATHETIC LOOSER WHO MADE UP A FAMILY STORY ABOUT HERSELF TO FEEL SPECIAL AND WHO’S OTHERS KEEP AROUND ONLY BECAUSE SHE’S USELFUL TO THEM! WHY EVEN BOTHER BEEN AROUND ME WHEN IT’S OBVIOUS I AM NOTHING BUT A NUISANCE TO YOU?”

-Her overblot form is a monstreous fusion of goldylockes with bear features and wearing a broken crown.

->Healing from overbloting dialogues:

-"I always looked up at my mother! She was the mayor of our town and she was respected and loved by the townpeople!”

-”I was in admiration for her hardwork, to me at those times being a mayor was the best thing in the world and I wanted to be one just like her after my story was done!”

-”When I entered at EAH I feel... lost, being surronded by all those royals like I was a little daisy in a giant roses field. So I created for myself royal origins so I will feel like having more equal grounds with the others!”

-”Even if it’s was obvious they didn’t believe my “I’m a royal” stories they didn’t seem to mind. Life seemed to turn pretty well for me: I was friend with many royals, even best friend forever after with the future “Snow White” and the future “Sleeping Beauty”, I hosted my own web show and was 100% ready to fill my destiny as Goldylockes! But when Raven Queen refused to sign the Storybook of Legends everything changed... for the worst!”

-”I have done the best I could to help the Royals cause and to help Apple, like every friend would do, and everything seemed normal but then Raven transfer!”

-”Apple changed, she become more and more obsessed with her destiny seeing enemies everywhere! I tried to be supportive, I tried to be useful! But in the end I couldn’t, Apple said it herself I’m useless, pathetic, worhtless, annoying...”

-”That when I realised the others don’t really like me, to them I’m a nosy annoyance who’s others barely tolerate.”

-”I’m making my best to help but it’s never enough!” , “People mostly see my flaws and don’t like me for them!” , “Whatever I do, I still mess up in the end!”, “Even after tranferring in a new school I am too warry about whatever I do! Too scared of being hated by my peers at the smallest mistake!” , “People often ask me if I made up my “royal origins” because I am ashamed that my mother is a simple mayor, but that not true!” , “I...” , “I just want to be as amazing like her!”

Duchess Swann:

->Pre-overblot:

-Some people would think that after she transfered and she is now not forced to follow her destiny anymore, Duchess would be less bitter but in reality it was the contrary.

-Even if things seem to have changed, Duchess thinked it was too good to be true that one way or another she will just finish like all formers princess swanns: dead or turned into a swann forever.

-She even remember the headmaster Grimm, the day she and the students left Ever After High, telling to their parents that they will regret not listening to him, that take their children away from the school will change nothing and that destiny will happen whatever they like it or not.

-This strengthened Duchess’s fears: How can she tell if she’s really free from her destiny? Is she really free or is she still bound to it like headmaster Grimm said?

-And when she saw the students of NRC and even the others transfers from EAH living their lives not having a care about what will happen to them in the future she couldn’t help it but being very envious.

-To her it wasn’t fair! Why did the others are happy with their lives but her not? Why does she had to had a such horrible future when the others can built themself a happy ending? Why?

-This made her more and more envious to the point of jealousy making her even more bitter toward her peers.

-MC from her new dorm, Ramshackle, was trying to be nice with her but her bitterness was so strong that Duchess just answered to their friendship aptempt, and to any student’s aptempt to even be civil with her, with her mean attitude.

-She got worse to the point she isolate herself from everyone else.

->Overblot:

-As for the NRC students, they were getting fed up with Duchess’s attitude.

-Most of them try to be at least civil with her but she is just out right rude with them.

-MC and their friends group talked to some of the EAH transfers to try to understand what was Duchess’s deal.

-When they learn about what was supposed to be Duchess’s “destiny” they were quite horrified, it doesn’t excuse her behavior but that explain it.

-They decided to go to talk to Duchess in hope to make her understand that she really don’t had to be scared about her “destiny” anymore.

-They search for her in the whole school and even use magic to locate her but are unable to find her.

-Than it become clear to them: Duchess had run away from the school.

-The group immediatly warn Crowley about Duchess’s desipearance and thank to a tracking spell he was able to locate Duchess near a lake in the Silent Woods.

-There, they find Duchess crying they tried to reason with her, but no matter what they could say she wouldn’t listen, closing herself more and more until she snap at them.

-”Oh yes, right! “you don’t have to worry about your future” you say, “the horrible stuff will not happen” you say! OF COURSE YOU WOULD SAY THAT IT SO EASY FOR YOU TO SAY IT! You get to live your lives totally carefree being happy and all that jazz! Trying to preach me like you know how I feel! WELL FLASH NEWS YOU DON’T! YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE TO GROW UP KNOWING YOU’RE DESTINED TO DIE OR TO BE CURSED FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE! YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE TO BE CONSTENTLY SURROUNDED BY PEOPLE WHO BRAG ABOUT THEIR OH SO AMAZING AND HAPPY DESTINY WHEN YOUR IS NOTHING BUT PAIN AND LONELINESS! YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE TO FEEL LIKE THE WORLD IS TRYING TO DO EVERYTHING IT CAN TO CONSTENTLY REMIND YOU YOU’RE DESTINED TO BE MISERABLE AND ALONE LIKE HAVING THE ONE PERSON WHO YOU THINK WAS YOUR FRIEND CUT YOU OUT AND ABANDONING YOU! AND YOU CERTAINLY DON’T KNOW WHAT IT LIKE THAT EVEN AFTER THINGS SEEMED TO HAD CHANGED YOU’RE STILL AFRAID THAT WHAT YOU WERE DESTINED TO STILL HAPPEN, THROWING YOU IN A ENDLESS CYCLE OF FEAR! Well if I’m really destined to be alone in the end I rather anticipate it and spend the rest of my existence in this lake all alone rather than having it happen to me by surprise! So now do me a favor and leave me alone! You hear me? GET LOST! GETLOSTGETLOSTGETLOSTGETLOST! GET LOST!”

-Her overblot form look like an horrific version of the Swann Princess with her feathers being black instead of white.

->Healing from overbloting dialogues:

-”I never knew my mother, all Princesses Swanns either died or are either forever curse as swann at the end of their story and when a new future Swann Princess is born she is either born from the forever cursed princess either born from the Black Swann but in all cases the future Swann Princess is never raised by her mother.”

-”I was born when my mother was forever cursed and as soon as I hatched I was took from my mother, given an human form and was given to my grandmother.”

-”I love my grandmother, but sometimes I can help but think about my mother, all alone, forever stuck as a swann and not even able to take care of her own daughter and I was saddly aware this was also the future that await me.”

-”My grandmother give me all her love and care with the hope I will grow up in a happy life without thinking about my destiny but unfortunatly there wasn’t a day in which I couldn’t not thinking about it.”

-”And when I entered Ever After High things didn’t get any better, being surrounded by people with an amazing destiny or a sad one but who are able to live with it made me envious of them to the point it was painful.”

-”I made some friends through my jealousy over their destiny kept me from being really close with them even with Faybelle who’s supposed to be my BFFA.”

-”Soon my jealousy and fears made me bitter and I became mean and cold toward others as a defense, I couldn’t bear to be close with the others when they were happy while I wasn’t able to and with my fear to be more hurt by being with others than being alone I prefered to be in loneliness telling myself the excuse that loneliness was my destiny anyway.”

-”Than I tried to trade or take other’s destiny in hope to had a more happy ending and with Sparrow helping me I though I had a friend in him, even if we acted more like we were accomplices, but nothing goes as excpected and Sparrow cutting me out only remind me what I was destined to be no matter what: Alone.”

-”I just don’t get it!” , “How can others be able to be happy even when some had a sad destiny but not me?” , “Even when I try to change my destiny like Raven it just blow up at my face!” , “Is this karma making me paid for trying to had another ending? Or did I just do it wrong?” , “Even after I transfered and I was assured I wasn’t forced to be the new Swann Princess anymore the doubt still gnaw me!” , “I can’t even bring myself to be nicer to others!” , “Even if I suffer being alone I fear to suffer even more by attaching myseld to my peers!” , “I don’t know what’s wrong with me!”, “I don’t now what to do!” , “Why?”, “Why can I be happy?”

Briar Beauty:

->Pre-overblot:

-Out of all Apple’s victims Briar fall within the ones who sufered the most.

-After all Apple was supposed to be her “best friend forever after” so her abuse toward Briar and her threats because she found her “too beautiful” did really distressed her.

-So when Briar, mentally weakened, learn she was also a Maleficent’s descendant when she got sorted in Diasomnia with Faybelle she was even more shaked.

-Don’t get her wrong she had nothing against Faybelle being her cousin or faes in general but the Sleeping Beauty’s and Maleficent’s lineages were supposed to be adversaries so how can she be a descendant of both Sleeping Beauty and Maleficent?

-In Diasomnia Briar try to hide her distress by smiling and being polite, “they were welcoming after all” she think “it would be rude!”.

-While she get to know her new dormmates, she took the opportunity to ask them some questions in hope to possibly know more about how her family tie with Maleficent can be possible but unfortunatly Briar didn’t get any success.

-The Diasmonia students asked her questions about her world and when she talked about her former destiny and the 100 years sleeping curse they were confused as heck.

-Silver even ask her “you’re aware that despite having been cursed to sleep for 100 years the original Sleeping Princess only slept for one day or two right?”.

-This absolutly shocked Briar, sleeping only for a day or two? what was the meaning of this?

->Overblot:

-Since this conversation Briar’s was filled with too many questions without answers.

-She then decided to search for answers.

-First she search in the school library the tale of the original Sleeping Beauty and discover that the original Sleeping Beauty had indeed only slept for a day or two despite the 100 years sleeping curse.

-This revelation stunned Briar, she wasn’t supposed to actually sleep for 100 years? She was even supposed to meet her prince before she fall asleep? All what she has been taugh her whole life was a lie? Why? Why was the tale changed to actually make the others Sleeping Beauties sleep for 100 years? What was thinking her former headmaster for allowing something this cruel to happen?

-A big panic seized her, her heart beating like she run a marathon, Briar beging to find difficulties to breath as if there was a lump in her throat.

-Briar tried to recompose herself, trying to rasionalize her throughs.

-More answers, yes she need more answers to get to the bottom of this, to see what more secrets was hidden from her.

-So she keep her search but the more she does the more stressed she become.

-With her classmates and dormmates she make sure to always keep a smile ans assure them she was alright when in reality she was not.

-But not everyone fall for it especially Lilia.

-Call it instinct but his experience from the times he raised Silver made him able to recognize the signs of someone young as Briar trying to hide something.(I don’t know about you but parental!Lilia headcanon is my jam! ^^)

-He became worried about Briar’s mental health so when he found out she was making research to understand how she was related to Maleficent, he decided to help her and ask MC and their friends group, and as well some of the EAH transfers, Faybelle include, to also help, but mainly to keep an eye on Briar since she seem to over the edge.

-So after some times of research the group learn the existence of an old mirror in the school which can answer any questions related to the Great Seven and their lineages.

-During the search and the discovery of the mirror Lilia and the others often asked Briar if she really want to know, worried about whatever they will find out can do to her mental but every Briar answered “Yes I’m sure! I want-no! I NEED to know!”.

-Once they found the mirror Briar ask it the origins of her lineage and the mirror show it to her.(See Headcanons special: Briar Beauty’s fae heritage)

-This reveal completly stunned Briar who feel like her whole world wreched.

-”I was... only the future Sleeping Beauty because my direct ancestor was used as a spare? And me being Maleficent descendant happen only because the descandant from Maleficent looked human enough so no one knew the truth?”

-She felt completly delusined, her destiny, her mere existence, all what she was taugh her entire life were nothing but a LIE!

-Briar is shaking uncontrollably tear appearing in her eyes.

-The others now extremely worried asked Briar if she was alright only for Briar to answer with a very weak laugh while tears were falling down through her cheeks.

-”Ha ha ha... I’m fine... Yeah I’m fine really... I’m okay... I’m... okay... Hahahaaaa... Who am I kidding... I’m not fine not at all! This sweet attitude, this smile I put on my face everyday to reassure others... They’re all fake! Just like me! My destiny... My friendship with Apple... My family history... Everything about me is fake! Fake... Fake... Fake... Fake! Fake! FAKE!!!!”

-Briar’s overblot form is a eldrich fusion of the Sleeping Beauty and Maleficent.

->Healing from overbloting dialogues:

-”I was always proud of my destiny, “the Sleeping Beauty” was one of the most popular and important tales after the “Snow White” tale so being the next Sleeping Beauty was considered as a great honor! But if there’s one thing I didn’t liked about my tale it was the 100 years sleeping curse.”

-”My family made everything they can do to mentaly prepare me for the sleeping curse since day one, telling me every day about how it wasn’t an end and that I will be happy with my future prince charming. Of course they never thought about the fact by sleeping for a century I may find love but at the same times I will lost all my friends.”

-”By the age of 5 I decided to prevent this future pain by simply not making friends, I was gonna loose them when my destiny will start so why getting attach to people who will dissappear way before you?”

-”But I realized very soon that loneliness was unbearable and couldn’t help myself but search for compagny and friendship from others, so I decided that if I can’t prevent myself to had friends then I will enjoy every second of my life before my destiny start so like this I would have amazing memories that I would sherish even after my 100 years sleep.”

-”Life was great: I enjoyed life as I can with parties and friends, I was at Ever After High THE greatest school for fairy tale characters, I got wonderful friends! Everything was fine... Until this fateful day where things just shatered!”

-”Raven refused to sign the book, creating the Royal/Rebel conflict, I stood at Apple’s side as the proud Royal I was despites my deep doubts, helping her and supportinig her.”

-”Then Raven transfered and Apple became more and more agitated about her destiny, I stayed by her side, defending her no matter what because that what friends right? Especially best friends forever after... But Apple... She...”

-”I though I was her friend but turn out that friendship was just fake! And when I transfered despite my sadness deep inside I was kinda relieved to be away from all this and hoped everything would be fine! But the more I learned about myself and my family the more I realized what I was in truth: Fake!”

-”I was prepared my whole life for something which wasn’t true in the end.” , “My friendship with Apple wasn’t genuine as I believed.” , “My destiny wasn’t even my birth right and was given to me only simple because I was a spare!”, “My family origins weren’t even what I believed everything I know just turned to be lies no matter where I look!” , “But then who am I? What am I?” , “I don’t know!” , “I...” , “I don’t know anymore!”

Daring Charming:

->Pre-overblot:

-At the first look you would think despite everything happened Daring seem to keep a cool head but in reality he was mentaly wrecked.

-Back at Ever After High when Apple loose it after Raven’s transfer, Daring didn’t know what to think about Apple anymore.

-It was like she was replaced by another girl who looked just like her but with a more wicked and meaner personnality.

-When it’s became clear she went out of line he tried to talk to Apple thinking a little talk and one of his smiles will set everything right as usual. But oh boy was he wrong.

-Not only Apple didn’t calm down but she also looked at him with a very cold stare and told with a as much cold voice “Daring, this is a matter that only concern me a future prince charming as yourself had no say in the matter so if you know what’s good for you you will stay at your place okay?”.

-This disguised threat shook Daring to his core and since that conversation he try to avoid Apple as much as possible too afraid to even face her.

-Unfortunatly Apple’s growing paranoia made her believe that not only other people wanted to steal her destiny from her but Daring as well.

-So she begin to monitoring Daring 24/7 staring at him like a hawk on it’s prey espetialy when he was talking to a girl, she didn’t leave him had a second’s respite or any privacy anymore.

-More than one time she would corner Daring and would "hug” him in a very possessive way making him very uncomfortable and would ask him “who’s your princess Daring?” and when Daring answer with a scared voice that she is his princess she would respond in a mean threatening voice “Yes! good, good! And this will never change right? You wouldn’t dare leave me for another don’t you? After all what would you become without me? without your destiny? You would be nothing! What did your parents would think? you wouldn’t want bring shame to them don’t you?”

-She would tell him things like that every single time she manage to be alone with him trapping Daring under her control, Darling and Dexter tried to protect their brother but they couldn’t look out for Apple constently.

-When he learn he will transfers to a new school Daring feel the news like a delivrance as for Apple she was firious and even screamed like a banshee to Daring something like “YOU WILL BE BACK! YOU WILL BE BACK CRAWLING AT MY FEETS! YOU’RE NOTHING WITHOUT ME! YOU HEAR ME DARING? NOTHING!!”

->Overblot:

-When he enter NRC and was sorted in the Ramshackle dorm with his siblings, Daring was feeling relieved but also very wary and uncertain.

-On one hand he was happy to be finally away from Apple but on the other wasn’t so sure if it was a good thing or not.

-He was aware Apple became way too toxic for him but at the same time there was a little voice inside of him, a way too familiar little voice telling him in a endless loop “You’re nothing without me!”

-Daring’s head was filled with questions and doubts “Did he do the right thing?” , “Was leaving EAH and Apple a good idea?” , “What if Apple was right?”

-More than one time he debate with himself if yes or no he must call Apple to tell her sorry but everytime he remind himself how bad Apple had been to him only to had once again doubts “Yes but what if she was right?” , “I was supposed to be her prince it was their destiny what will he become without it?” , “and his family what they would think of him?”

-Day by day he become more stressed unsure about what to do.

-Darling and Dexter were worried for him especially when they saw their brother staring at his mirrorpad for a long time not sure what to do.

-It’s when they hear him one day murmuring to himself in a trembling panicked voice “I can’t do it!” , “I must call her!” , “I need my destiny!” , “I’m nothing without her!” , “I can’t deceive my family!” , “I need it! I need it! I need it!” that Darling and Dexter decided to do something about it.

-With the help from some of their friends among the EAH transfers and from MC and their friends group they planned to take Daring’s mirrorpad from him and to talk with him to make him see reason.

-After a chase in the school the group manage to take the mirrorpad from Daring and tried to talk to him but it doesn’t really go as planned.

-”No... NO! You don’t understand! You just don’t it! I know how bad Apple become! But I need her! I’m supposed to accomplish my destiny! I’m nothing without it! I can’t turn away I just can’t! I was supposed to be the new Prince Charming! I can’t deceive the Charming family name! I can’t! I need it... I need it... I NEED IT!!!!”

-His overblot form is a shattered version of the prince charming with his wrists and neck tied with a red string, a rod planted in his heart with black goo oozing.

->Healing from overbloting dialogues:

-”Being the future Prince Charming was expected from me since my birth, I was the first born son from the Charming family so I was the best choice for the role!”

-”I was always raised to be proud of my future title and to be a proud prince, I made everything I can to be what was expected from a prince charming: beautyfull, brave, chevalrious, heroic. Always ready to save a damsel in distress or to slay a dangerous dragon all what was expected from a prince.”

-”I even met Apple, my future Snow White, when we were children and we grew up together, her and I were getting along very well together, we were great friends!”

-”Everything was just fine we were both living our own school life till our destinies begin, we had great friends, life seemed to be bright for us, at least that what I though, because when the Royal/Rebel conflict and Raven Queen’s transfer happen I saw Apple in a new light, a new light I didn’t like at all!”

-”I just didn’t recongized her, she wasn’t like the sweet and kind for which I was happy to know I will marry someday, instead she was cold, mean and very paranoiac about everyone around her she was even threatening anyone whe she saw as a threat... Just like an Evil Queen would do and it was terrifying me!”

-”She even imagine herself that I was going to leeave her or going to be take away by someone else, she became invasive, constently contolling all my moves and talking down to me as if I mean nothing to her but being very possessive of me at the same time.”

-”I was afraid of her I didn’t even wanted to be in the same room than her, I just wanted to run and when I was told I was going to transfer it was a true relief but Apple’s words and my own doubts were eating me, was that a good idea? What will happen to my destiny? What if Apple was right and my peers consider me as a failure?”

-”I don’t want to go back to Apple but my guilt and fears are paralizing me!” , “I was raised and taugh to be by her side whatever is happening but how can I do it when she hurt me?” , “I just want to get away from her but how can I do it when my duties, my destiny and my family name constently came back to my mind?” , “I just don’t know what to do what am I going to become if I’m not the prince charming?” , “What can I do to stop this pain?” , “I...” , “I’m scare about what to decide!”

Raven Queen(This one will be shorter since her overblot phase will be a important part of a whole headcanon part about Milton Grimm’s and Snow White’s downfall):

->Pre-overblot:

-The overblot Apple fiasco left Raven pretty shaked.

- Even if her friends keep telling her that what happen to Apple wasn’t her fault deep inside she still feel guilty.

-She try to hide her guilt feelings to the others, not wanting to worry them.

->Overblot:

-So the accident happen at the international Magical Shift Tournament.

-Raven was there with her other classmates to support the teams from Night Raven College.

-Everything seemed to be fine until Raven was approached by none other but Milton Grimm and Snow White.

-Raven’s friends came closer to her standing protectively beside her in case they would had to defend her against the two.

-When asked what are they doing here Milton Grimm and Snow White told Raven with a serious face that Apple desippeared and all this because Raven didn’t sign the book and that the only way for Apple to come back is that Raven sign the book and accept her destiny.

-This made all Raven’s friends furious to the point they beging a screaming match with the two adults, calling their statement a bluff. And they were right about this being a bluff.

-You see Milton Grimm and Snow White became desesperated to make Raven come back so they plotted the “make Raven believe that Apple goes poof because of her” to make her sign the book and so forcing to become the next Evil Queen.

-Now Apple’s involvement in this plan is different depending the two possible paths.

-In the “Apple’s happily ever after” path: Apple has no involvement in the plan and doesn’t even know about it since she leave the White kingdom with her father after her parents divorce and go to a new school and severed links with her mother.

-In the “Apple’s badly ever after” path she’s 100% into the plan and is hidding in her room while her mother and Milton Grimm put their plan in motion.

-While her friends were defending her, Raven in a total shock just snap.

-”No... NOOOOOOO! Why did this happen? How could this happen? I... I NEVER WANTED THIS TO HAPPEN TO APPLE! WHY ME WANTED TO MAKE MY OWN DESTINY ONLY HURT OTHERS? ALL I WANTED WAS TO MAKE MY OWN CHOICES! BUT ALL I GOT IN THE END IS MAKING OTHERS SUFFER! AND ALL THIS BECAUSE OF I’M JUST A SELFISH PERSON! WHY CAN’T I DO ANYTHING WITHOUT HURTING SOMEONE? WHHYYYYYYY?”

-Her overblot form is her mother version of the Evil Queen tied in heavy chains.

->Healing from overbloting dialogues:

-”If there was one thing I hated more than anything it was my destiny as the future Evil Queen! I always though it was an horrible title.

-”No one around me made me think otherwhise from my peers who were outright bullying me because of “how evil I was” to my own family with my mother doing everything she can to make me “more evil” like turn my puppy into an horrible rat.”

-”As I grow up I take the decision I will never become the new Evil Queen, that I will write my own destiny, living my own life but when I made it clear on the Legacy Day things become harder for me.”

-”All this created the Royal/Rebel conflict creating tensions and pression not only harder for me but also for the others rebels.”

-”When I found myself in the Night Raven College after my magic accident and got accepted as a student I felt like I was in a dream people here were understanding and were accepting for you I am.”

-”I was pure happiness! I was finally in a place where I wasn’t judge because of my mother and where I would be able to create my own future! But I didn’t know this would come with heavy consequences!”

-”As soon as I transfered things goes downhill at EAH to the points the students left the school as well and Apple... Oh Apple!”

-”I wasn’t aware about how bad she become the others warned me she lost it but I didn’t know it was THAT bad and when she become that thing I wondered “Was that because of me?””

-”I was eaten by guilt, my friends tried to told me again and again it wasn’t my fault but deep inside I couldn’t help it but think it was my fault! And now Apple desippeared and once again by my fault!”

-”Why when I do something someone is always hurt in the process?” , “I just want to write my own destiny and be happy is that too much to ask?” , “Am I really destined to make others suffer whatever I do?” , “I don’t want to finish like my mother but I don’t want others to be miserable because of me!” , “I... Just want to have my happy ending without hurting others!”

TAG LIST :( a reblog will get you a place in the tag list! ^^)

@virgil-is-a-cutie , @zebrabaker , @twistedwonderlxnd , @cowardlybravette , @iwilldietomorrowyees , @balsae , @shinypainterkid , @biscuitbirdpeach , @feuilleszuyu , @pale-lady-dreamer , @icant-choosename-help

#ever after high #twisted wonderland #ever after high au #crossover #headcanons #headcanon #blondie lockes #briar beauty #daring charming #raven queen #overblot #au idea #OMG those poor kids need therapy!!!#Duchess swann

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