#she was not ready to summon an entire demon. although... they look more human than she was expecting? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cheelduh · 4 years ago

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How to tie up a cute boy

(Highschool Au)

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Parts: 1 2 3

Word count: 4K

Warnings: Swearing, Scaramouche abuse, no Signora slander this time, shit humour.

Synopsis: "Why are you doing homework?" Childe groans, rolling off to the side and kicking off the blanket to expose himself in nothing but a pair of boxers. "I'm literally right here, naked and defenseless. Why aren't you taking advantage of me?"

Note: Unedited yet again besties. Tysm for reading :) I got Childe after losing him to mf MONA, istg it was the most stressful moment of my life.

The clock ticks with its pendulum, ridiculing you as it holds the time. The gentle whirring of the air conditioning in the background serves as the icing on the cake to your pent up aggression.

You try not to glare at your phone too much after receiving a text from Childe that told you not to worry, that his dad picked him up and that he was in the comfort of his home, letting the flu blow over.

It took a lot of convincing from his part earlier that morning to get you to go back and actually attend the rest of your classes, making sure to check up on him every break plus the additional "bathroom breaks" you usually never take while in class.

"I can't let you get in trouble for me." He murmured with a small smile that pumped your blood a little faster than usual. "I'm fine, really. Don't worry your pretty little head."

You do exactly that.

You don't even know why you're so worried. He's sick, not dying. Not to mention, you aren't even his girlfriend let alone his friend to care so much.

Your intrusive thoughts don't waste any time. You latch onto the one thought that takes over. He's probably dead. Lying in his bed in a heap of pillows, passing peacefully while his parents are in the other room. He's dead.

Okay, he's not dead. You intrusive thoughts sure do one hell of a job. He'll be fine, and in no time he'll go back to being a reckless distraction in your life that you need to surpass. Just another obstacle to add onto the list of things life has thrown at you.

But for an obstacle, he sure is kind of cute.

You refrain from bashing your head on the desk. School isn't really a preferred environment on your list of top ten places to shrivel up and die.

Speaking of death and all that is evil, why is Childe always on your mind? He takes up every nook and cranny of your day, constantly, and truth be told it's starting to boil your piss.

Every time you close your eyes you see his smug smile, and hear his stupid laugh. He's an annoying little prick who gets a rise out of exasperating you. Yet here you are, terrified by the warmth that blossoms in your heart when you so much as hear his name.

The final bell rings at long last, conveniently before you bite your tongue to avoid screaming, and not another second is wasted once you launch yourself out the door. You dodge through the crowd of students in the hall that are buzzing in excitement from it being a Friday afternoon, and you would be too if you weren't so damn hung up over a ginger with a battlekink.

Locker in view, you make a beeline and spend the next two minutes fumbling with the lock in your hands.

"Woah there cutie," Lisa speaks up playfully. "At this rate you'll break the poor lock with your bare hands."

For a moment you're surprised at her sudden appearance, but then remember that it's normal for her to worm her way anywhere.

"It's just—this lock is being dumb okay? It has no reason being a pain in my ass but it wakes up every day and chooses violence." You hiss through your teeth, a sharp metallic ring invading your ears when you lose it and jostle the combination lock against the door of your locker.

Lisa winces, but smiles teasingly nonetheless. "Want me to give it a try?"

"Please."

Lisa has the door open at record speed.

"I love you Lisa." You confess wholeheartedly, gripping at your chest. "I love you so much—"

"Yeah yeah," She waves you off with a grin. "Now hurry up and go save your boyfriend from the common flu. Archons knows he won't make the night."

You flush at the word "boyfriend" and don't give much thought to the insinuation that lies within the rest of her sentence.

Sliding your skateboard under an arm, you spin on your heel just to bump straight into Scaramouche, who's won the scowl of the century on his face. He's the last person you want to see right now, but apparently the universe wants to have a pissing match with you.

"Give this homework to that idiot Ginger." He shoves a stack of papers into you. "Tell him that once he's done circling the drain, I'm gonna kick his ass." He then leans in, murderous glint in his eyes. "And if you ever touch me again I'll take a shit in your cereal. That's not a threat, it's a promise."

You shiver at the thought of him squatting on your Cheerios, hands becoming clammy as you try and justify yourself. "It was an accident."

Your pitiful excuse earns you nothing from the navy haired boy. "It'll be an accident when I murder your entire family, three generations over."

"Hi Mona!" You wave excitedly over his shoulder at the body of students that are totally not Mona. With elation he fails to conceal, Scaramouche turns to look at the speed of light.

You take the chance to make your escape—not before waving to Lisa, chuckling to yourself. He's down bad.

With great expertise you file your way through the flock of students chattering near the entrance. , you confidently place your skateboard down on the sidewalk, ready to—

Wait—where does he live again?

You sigh heavily, ignoring the sadness as you thank the universe internally for pulling the reigns on your disastrous plan. Checking up on Childe at his house? With his family present? Making a complete fool out of yourself? What are you thinking? The possibilities are horrendous. He probably doesn't even think of you like that, he just likes a challenge and you pose as one.

You turn away to make a run for it in the direction of your home, all the while ignoring the nagging worry in your chest for Childe. He's probably fine anyways, you don't need to check up on him, and if you did he'd likely find a way to spin it and tease you relentlessly.

Although somehow, the thought of being teased by him isn't as dreadful as you'd like it to be.

Suddenly, an idea graces you, one that guarantees your misery by sating your obligation to check up on Childe. A litany of curses escape your mouth. Genius really, the amount of ways you can think of doing something that'll end in your demise.

"Adeptus Xiao." You whisper apprehensively, already regretting your decision. "Adeptus Xiao." Glancing around your surroundings, you barely notice the shadow that looms over you at your backside.

"What do you want mortal?" Unbeknownst to you, he strikes out of nowhere, making you jump back several meters. You manage to muffle a surprised shriek.

Xiao is Venti's -6 ft boyfriend, the vicious epitome of an eboy. He has a scaled tattoo covering up the majority of an arm, a few piercing holes in his ears, all matched up with a disinterested look. Somehow, he always appears out of nowhere if you call out his name. It's sort of disturbing in a way.

His amber eyes pierce through you, forcing a shudder of fear and dread to lace your blood, almost as if he can sense you shittalking him in your head.

With shaky hands, you ask, "Can you tell me where—"

"No."

"You didn't even hear me ou—"

"No."

"Please?"

He refuses to at least pretend to think about it for a moment.

"No."

"Why?" You frown, stomping your foot on the ground childishly.

"Because." He retorts with a lack of interest, but doesn't further explain his point. English teachers must love this kid.

"Okay," You say slowly, casually inspecting his form as you come up with an idea, briefly remembering Lumine mentioning it to you. "How about I give you my share on almond tofu Tuesday."

The lack of interest on his face wavers slightly. Bingo.

"What do you want mortal?" Xiao mutters gruffly, arms crossed, face morphing into subtle annoyance.

You wrack your brain for a proper answer. You can't just outright ask him or it'll seem like you have a thing for Childe, which you unfortunately do, but you'd like to keep a semblance of integrity. Ah yes, the homework!

"I gotta deliver these to Childe." You outstretch the pile of worksheets in your hands. "Except I don't know where he lives. Can you tell me?"

Xiao's eyes glint with danger. "Did you summon me for the trivial task of giving you an address?"

You nod furiously.

"Do humans have no shame?" Its rhetorical. Expressionlessly, he closes his eyes with intent focus, doing what you assume to be locating Childe's exact location.

He blinks an eye open, reaches a hand out. "Give me your phone." Palm waiting.

You hand it over to him almost desperately.

One glance at your bubbly phone case and he doesn't even try to hide his distaste. He taps a few times, then hands it back to you almost immediately.

On the screen is maps, and Childe's home is about a fifteen minute walk away.

Your jaw drops in disbelief. "How did you do that?"

"Easy," He mutters, leaning back against the school gate as the remainder of students walk past the two of you. "Locating demons that need subjugating is but a simple task."

There's a pregnant pause. Demon.

"Childe's a demon?" You gasp, even though you've always had your suspicions. Hence the reason you invest so much in demon-cancelling charms.

"What? No." He mutters with a roll of his eyes, and you note that his irritation grows the more questions you ask. "I had a physics project with him last semester."

That's why the charms don't work.

Your mouth forms an o, in fear that if you keep this conversation going on any longer, he'll snap at you. Especially when your next line of interrogation involves how he's able to appear and disappear into thin air.

It's a magic trick you'll want to master whenever Il Dottore has another conniption fit in the middle of the hallways after Kaeya tells him he looks like he has skid marks.

"Thank you." You say instead, trying to preserve his regard, but by the time you meet his gaze he's already gone with the wind.

—

Childe's home is surprisingly humble, considering the amount of fat stacks of cash he carries around in his fanny pack so care-freely. It's a normal suburban home from what you can tell, a little bigger than normal with a double garage, neatly mowed lawn and a few forgotten decorations from the windblume festival. A series of water guns lay forgotten near the entrance, making their presence known when you stumbled upon them.

It's hard to remain unphased. Especially since such a normal looking home has bred someone as ruthless as Childe.

Maybe it not the home, you think. Maybe it's the way he was raised. You recall a few glimpses of his mother in middle school, but because of your worse for wear memory retention, you can't ballpark her personality type.

As your thoughts wander further down to his parents and early childhood, villain origin story and what not, you're pulled out of your concentration when the door opens. The possible implications of being here are most definitely not in your favor.

Childe's mother is a stunning woman in her mid-forties who sure as hell doesn't show it in that jaw-dropping sapphire dress, topped off with a brilliant smile that makes your knees weak. Like mother like son, you suppose.

With her sudden appearance, strangely enough, you can remember how good her tiramisu bites are.

You take a moment to respond, swallowing thickly, only to stare at her stupidly.

His mother doesn't waste another second before ushering you in, oblivious to your star-struck expression. "Y/N? L/N Y/N? My have you grown. I remember when you were only this tall." She lifts her hand up a little above her waist, the jewels on her fingers dazzling with every movement. "How is your mother doing?"

"She's doing alright, busy with the clinic." You're able to find your words, smiling back at her, able to get somewhat familiar with her warmth. "I hope I'm not intruding. Childe forgot some homework." You say, heaving the short stack up.

"Ajax?" She laughs, shaking her head in disbelief. "I can't believe he's going by that now. I wonder when this phase will be over. He may act tough but he's such a softie, has the biggest heart."

You, in between concealed emotions and giggles that threaten to leak, try to hide the oncoming grin but it's impossible. "Well he's got you to thank for it."

"You flatter me too much Y/N," She fixes the up do, pinning back the blonde hair that deftly frame her familiar cerulean eyes. "I can see why he can't stop talking about you."

Her words make you waver momentarily. The fondness you've refused to share, the drawn out stares in the halls, the lingering touches, you don't want to acknowledge it but it's there. Whatever it is.

"I'm so sorry for cutting this short dear," His mother sighs, grabbing her keys off the counter and placing her wallet in an elegant handbag. "My niece is getting married and we're already late. I told Ajax I'd stay if he didn't feel too well but he said he could handle a headache. That boy, I swear, always tries to power through."

You nod in understanding, but wait a minute. A headache?

Scrunching up your face, eyebrows furrowed, you ask. "Headache?"

She frowns, applying another layer of her rouge lipstick hastily in a nearby mirror. "I know dear, how unfortunate. The school nurse said it's a migraine, and I shouldn't fret much, but a mother can't help but worry. If only he weren't so stubborn, like his father."

As if on cue, a loud honk comes from outside.

"That must be him!" She exclaims, hurriedly sliding in her heels, turning back to look at your awkward figure. "Ajax is in his room, it's the second door to the right upstairs. I've made some lasagna for the kids, you ought to have some as well, I'll be upset if you don't—" Another annoying honk cuts her off, to which she scoffs, shaking a fist. "That old man, I'll strangle him in his sleep. I must be going now, goodbye dear." She reveals a twinkling smile at you one last time, waving a slim hand before picking up her heels and making a run for it.

The door closes with an unceremonious thud, gust of wind in its trail, leaving a bewildered high schooler in its wake.

Snapping out of your haze, overwhelming tides threaten to drown you whole. Being in Childe's home, alone, with him a handful of stair steps and a wall or two away, your cheeks are set ablaze.

Now that his mother's gone, you take a second to really look. There are a few toys littered in front of the TV, home covered in with soft throws and coordinated cushions, a lazy sectional plopped right in the middle. The marks on the furniture with all the stories, the light hued mismatched frames hanging on the walls and on all the table, so many pictures of those that resemble him, his brothers, his sisters, his family. You can almost hear the echoing laughter in the halls, the childish squeals and pitter patter of tiny feet slapping the hardwood floor.

This is where he grew up. This is where he retires to after a long day full of gratifying fistfights. This is where he was raised to be who he is today, ambitious and reckless, with the absurd dream to one day rule the world. This is his home.

It's...like being wrapped in blanket, safe and cozy, surrounded by all the love in the world.

Absentmindedly, your fingers trace the outlines of a younger Childe, two missing teeth and eyes full of dreams, hugging the side of his father's shoulder because his small arms can't wrap around them. Not just yet.

You make your way over to the staircase, which has even more frames littered across the wall, one that falls short of hiding the marks of a green crayon—another slice of domesticity you aren't quite accustomed to.

The reality sets in, and you come to a conclusion. This home is definitely not an environment for growing psychopaths, Childe just beats the odds like he beats up kids on the daily.

Your fist hovers over his door as you contemplate abandoning the sheets on a nearby table, but his mother was so sweet and polite, so incredibly hospitable, you wouldn't have the heart to make a run for it.

"I can see why he can't stop talking about you."

Three consecutive knocks. If he doesn't answer, you'll leave them at the door.

"Mama," Childe's muffled groans stem from the other side, and oh, you want to revel in the grave undertone of his voice because it's certainly not a common occurrence. "I told you I'm fine. You can go okay? I don't want you to be late, just need to sleep it off."

You blink, lips curling, and then knock again.

"Mama," He whines again, and it has you grinning mischievously. He's a mommy's boy, he has to be. The thought envelopes your heart with a newfound fondness. "Just come in and hurry."

You eagerly take in the room once you slip in, eyes scanning over every little detail, until they zero in on the heap of sheets smack dab on the single bed, a pair of feet dangling off the edge, topped with a comforter thrown over leisurely.

Childe's facing away from you, head dipped in between his shoulders, probably trying to find a position that's more comfortable. He's shivering, sweating at the same time. His mother must've been too preoccupied to notice. This isn't the first time he's used his exceptional bullshitting finesse.

"I can't believe you lied to your mother," You cross your arms, leaning back against the door.

With a jerk, Childe flings into a sitting up position, wide awake and aware of everything that is going on, a stark contrast from nearly seconds ago.

He blinks at you in shock, once, twice, rubs his eyes a bit, relaxes, then leans back, out of it completely. "For a sleep paralysis monster, you sure are kind of cute."

"For and idiot you sure are an idiot." You snort back.

"Wait a minute," He mutters slowly, jaw dropping. "You're actually here?!"

Ignoring his question, you opt to slap the papers on his desk to ignore your clammy palms. "Homework."

"And here I thought you came here all this way to be my personal nurse." He smirks, recovering from his momentary shock fairly swiftly. Doesn't refrain from giving you that shit stain of a bad boy grin, even with a flushed face and concavity under his eyes.

"I can be your personal mortician instead."

"I didn't know you were into role play babe, but I'll take what I can get." He winks, but is punished by a sequence of coughs that earn a wince from you.

"Headache?" You tease after he quiets down, but he remains as cavalier as always.

He sighs, sides of his lips still arched upwards. "My parents barely have any time to themselves, it's so hectic with the kids. What kind of son would I be if I couldn't even give them this?"

He must've threatened Barbara.

"You're," You inhale, briefly letting the silence hang between you two, mulling over what you wish to convey. sweet.

"Irresistible? Hot? Sexy?" He starts casual, arrogant smirk widening.

"Kind of not a complete asshole, is what I was going to say."

"Careful girlie," He narrows his eyes on you, playful lilt in his tone. The comforter is allowed to slip past his shoulders to reveal the goods that lie underneath, the complete naked chest of a post-puberty highschool boy who sprays too much axe. Full pectorals are something to pay for, stringed with smooth muscles that ripple their way over his toned shoulders. "If you keep teasing me like this, I can't promise I'll be the nice guy."

"One more time from the top," You bite back, avoiding staring at him for too long. "Without the congested nose this time."

With great expertise, he weakly throws a pillow at you, and you watch it exceptionally land at your feet, barely grazing the tips of your socks.

"Impressive," You whistle, not impressed.

He pouts, shivers, then is dunking his head back into the welcoming embrace of his plush collection of pillows.

With a sigh, you plop down on his chair, grab a pen and begin calculating derivatives.

"What're you doing?" He doesn't even turn your way, voice muffled.

"Homework," You reply nonchalantly, trying to calm your nerves. "unless you want me to get you something to eat, considering you puked out your gogurt on Barbara's shoes earlier. Congrats by the way, you're hit listed by her fan club."

"Why are you doing homework?" He groans, rolling off to the side and kicking off the blanket to expose himself in nothing but a pair of boxers. "I'm literally right here, naked and defenseless. Why aren't you taking advantage of me?"

He really has an IQ below room temperature.

Burying the formidable obligation to clock him in the face on behalf of society, you slowly get up to approach his bed, to which he grins widely in disbelief.

Apprehensively, you climb onto his bed, and he scoots over, excitement as clear as day. His hair's a wild mess from all the shifting, almost makes you want to card a hand through it. Your heart nestles it's way in your throat at the sight of his blazing blue eyes.

You pity him for what you're about to do.

"Relax Childe," You lean over him with confidence you never knew you had to begin with, face hovering inches before his. Your fists strategically grip the comforter on either side of him. "We have all day after all."

Although you attempt to pay no heed to his quivering hand that snakes up to find solace on your hip, you momentarily shiver at the tenderness.

He's eating this up and leaving no crumbs. Closing his eyes in anticipation, his lips tremble when he tries to close in the distance.

Abruptly, you cross both handfuls of sheets over his body, tying them securely in place to keep him docile. He struggles in your grip, eyes snapping open in surprise. "Wuh-What."

"Did you really think you had a chance?" You cross your arms, stepping back to get a good look at your handiwork.

"Honestly?" Childe huffs, struggles some in his restraints. "I wasn't really thinking."

"Typical," You scrunch your nose up, unscrunch, and then exhale. "You stay here and I'll go make you some soup. Well, not that you can really move but you get the idea."

"You're really going to leave me here like this?" He pouts cutely, melting you, and the sick bastard knows of his power.

"Relax," You wave a hand, "I may be evil but I'm not Scaramouche."

Meanwhile, Scaramouche sneezes as he tries to ask Mona out, falling straight on his ass from the kick back, making a complete fool out of himself. Mona doesn't mind though, finds it endearing.

Back at Childe's room, he raises a brow, expectant.

Going through the five stages of grief, you do something you've been wanting to do for a while, succumbing to the immense feeling.

Closing in the distance between you two, you suck in a breath and gently tilt Childe's head to the side. He blinks quickly, not quite expecting your sudden forwardness, about to say something that doesn't matter as soon as you place a tender peck on the side of his cheek.

Time stops, the world coming to a halt completely. A moment made in history, one you won't ever forget, fresh in both your minds from forward on.

And then you stagger away as if you've been stabbed.

"Soup!" You squeak, appalled by the sheer boldness of your actions. "I'll go make soup while you rest."

Childe, frozen, stares at you incredibly confused, and then beams.

Dear Archons, what have you done.

#genshin impact #genshin impact oneshot #childe x reader #childe #fanfic #genshin oneshot #kaeya alberich #dottore #genshin tartagalia #tartagila #lumine genshin impact #mona genshin impact #aether #barbara genshin impact #ajax x reader

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kintatsujo · 4 years ago

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LoZ AU- The Courage of Running Away Part THIRTY

Previous Post Is HERE

This is the last outline post! But like I said before I’m probably gonna take a run at NaNo with this story this year because of how thoroughly it got out of hand lmao and probably will keep doing smaller art posts and shit at this point.

And again there’s already ideas for a sequel in the works, although that’ll probably trickle in MUCH more slowly for the time being.

Next week I’m probably going to take a break from Tumblr altogether bc of Real Life Stuff and the fact that this project turned So Big. Maybe. Possibly. Don’t take me at my word lmao

This is a text heavy post and I apologize but there was a lot to cover; each section is separated by headers.

Content warning for mention of hanging used as a metaphor.

#AU August

#LoZ AU: The Courage of Running Away

Astramorus’s Sentencing

Astramorus is stripped of his rank within Hylia's Church, although he's allowed to keep his home at the sky commune since he and Catena had shared it since before her death and Zelda isn't cruel. She assigns him a Shiekah escort-and-therapist on Impa's recommendation, someone he's not allowed to leave the Sky Temple Commune without until further notice, and Astramorus tells her it's generally much more generous than he expected even considering the help he'd offered.

Link doesn’t go home with him, at Astramorus's insistence.

"Listen to me, Link," he says, touching Link's face gently. "For all that I'd LIKE to undo the last twelve years of our lives, do it better, you're still healing from everything I did wrong."

"Uncle Seren was-" Link starts.

"Giving me the rope with which to hang myself," Astramorus finishes. "I still took it in hand, son. We both need a little distance to start, you to heal and me to sort my own head."

Link frowns at him. "You need to heal too," he says. "You wouldn't have taken that rope if Mama had been here to stop you."

"Probably not," Astramorus agrees. "But that's why her Majesty is assigning someone to follow me around, isn't it?"

[Image Description: Link throws his arms around Astramorus, to his father’s surprise. When Astramorus hugs him back, looking like he’s ready to collapse into the hug, Link opens one eye and tells him sternly, “Take CARE of yourself, Father, or we’re gonna have WORDS.” “Mhm,” Astramorus mumbles. End ID.]

(Hilda, it should be noted, tells Astramorus and Link that they’re both welcome to visit Lorule Castle at any time, trying to hide her eagerness until finally admitting; “You both know what having Serenumbra in your head is like.” And Astramorus and Link agree with that and promise to meet there in a few months, once they’ve had that time to sort themselves out.)

As for Serenumbra, for now Eltani decides to let him “enjoy” some solitude in the Gerudo City prison while she deliberates more thoroughly on what to do with him. He did quite a lot, after all.

What to do About Ghirahim

Eltani and Zelda Sr discuss what to do about Ghirahim more privately, with Aldway, Impa, and Vaba (Eltani's oldest advisor) there to offer input.

"You say he froze upon being presented with the mere image of his old master," Aldway says. "I'm not sure I trust that."

"It wasn't like-" Zelda starts, then starts over. "He was like a frightened child, darling." She pauses, reevaluates. "Or like a dog expecting to be beaten."

"Like Link?" Aldway asks mildly.

She shakes her head. "Much worse than even that, my dear."

"Even knowing he's half mortal he has trouble stilling his tongue towards me," Eltani notes. "Faced with his former master, he was struck silent."

Vaba speaks up. "You say that Serenumbra called the thing he summoned a god's nightmare, correct?"

"The boy Link saw a figure he couldn't hope to live up to. Your Majesty saw a figure from history you've tried to avoid being since you were her age. Whose nightmare was Demise? Dinravi didn't know his face, and you tell us Ghirahim stepped in the way. Dinravi only faced a copy of Ghirahim's master because he was reflected from Ghirahim's half human heart."

They decide to let him stay.

What Dinravi Would Like to do About Ghirahim

And in the meantime Dinravi and Ghirahim are having their own discussion somewhere else in the castle, partly because Eltani asked Dinravi to keep Ghirahim away from where they're discussing and partly because of course they are, it's been a lot, the last day and a half or so, between Ghirahim saving Dinravi from assassination and Dinravi punching Nightmare Demise in the face. And finding out that Ghirahim is definitely around half human now, there's also that.

There's a bit of an awkward silence, at first. It's so, so much. Ghirahim is stealing a lot of glances and Dinravi seems to be collecting himself.

And then Dinravi asks: "Can I kiss you?"

Ghirahim stares at him for a moment, eyes wide, mouth small in surprise, bright red, and then he smiles a little and looks away and says "You still don't... my prince, you don't need to ask PERMISSION to do whatever you PLEASE with me."

Dinravi goes quiet. "... Is that how it was with him? Demise?" he asks. His face is gentle and open, nonjudgmental, but Ghirahim sputters.

"Of course it was," he says, "is there a problem with that?"

Dinravi studies him. "Apparently there is," he says. "Because you're shaking."

Ghirahim jolts in horror and stares at his hands, which are indeed trembling, almost as badly as at the sight of Nightmare Demise, and he screams: "DAMN this frail useless human body!!"

Dinravi takes a step backwards, watching him, and says, "Ghirahim." And at getting his attention, he asks, "Does this mean that you came to me, tried to seduce me into conquest... Knowing that might mean you, too?"

Ghirahim stares at him for a breath, vulnerable, then looks away, frowning. "Of course I did," he says.

Dinravi sighs. "Of course you did," he echoes.

"I was FORGED for this," Ghirahim says helplessly. "To serve Master Demise, or the one who inherits from Him. Whatever that might mean."

"Ghirahim," Dinravi says gently. "You're almost half human now. I believed in your choice before, when we were thinking you entirely demon, but... Being human means getting to choose."

Ghirahim is adrift and he looks at the floor, the ceiling, out the window, and finally back at Dinravi, trying to find solid ground.

His voice is small. "Please kiss me?" he asks. Dinravi smiles and steps forward, leaning into him, brushing his lips tenderly with his own. Ghirahim whimpers and surges forward, and Dinravi puts his arms around him and steadies his stance, chuckling, soothing him, kisses him again. Ghirahim gasps as his knees buckle and he slides downward, almost ragdoll as Dinravi catches him again.

"Are you okay?!" Dinravi asks, holding him against his chest.

"I'm fine," Ghirahim whispers, hanging on for dear life. "C-can- Can we take this somewhere your MOM won't stumble on us, or worse one of the BRATS running around the castle? I'm about to become very embarrassing if we keep this up." He gives Dinravi a significant stare, face crimson. "Maybe with a bed?"

Dinravi's eyebrows shoot up. ".... Would you like me to carry you?" he finally asks.

"I think you're going to have to," Ghirahim admits.

We're going to give them some privacy. XD

[Image Description: Dinravi is tilting Ghirahim into a kiss, the sun setting through the window behind them. Ghirahim’s eyes are open but he’s pliant in Dinravi’s arms, one hand curled against his chest. Dinravi is smiling, eyes closed and his grip gentle but rather thoroughly in control of the situation. End ID.]

Back At the Sky Commune

Maurice and the other priests/monks at the Sky Temple Commune had some word of what was going on by the time Astramorus returns, and Maurice has more or less been put in charge now, in recognition of his years of service and care of the commune’s day to day.

He’s a bit annoyed at Astramorus about the whole thing, if he’s honest, which he is, but he also does care about his former superior, and once Astramorus has settled back in and the Sheikah escort is being shown around he approaches him in his quarters, finding him by the window thrown open, chin resting in his hand, looking out of place in the kind of civilian clothing Astramorus has barely worn his entire life.

“So what are you going to do with yourself, Astramorus, once the Queen’s man has decided you’ve moped around here enough?” he asks. Maurice is kind but he’s also gruff. Birds don’t tend to care about your word choices, and Maurice spends much more time with pigeons and cuccos and loftwings than with people.

Astramorus shrugs, not turning from the view of the blue sky. “Honestly Maurice, I was raised by Hylia’s Church. Mayhap I’ll find something else, but. Well, it was kind of the Queen to let me keep these quarters for more reasons than memory of my wife.”

Maurice bristles his mustache, and then he says, “You know... she stripped your rank. There’s nothing about your sentence as I read it that says you can’t start over from the beginning.”

Astramorus finally turns to him, and Maurice is struck by how... well, how much happier the other man looks. He’s lost nearly everything, and yet it’s like a great millstone’s off his neck. And Astramorus smiles:

[Image Description: “Maybe,” Astramorus says, smiling against his hand. He looks relaxed and happy, and maybe like he’s considering it seriously. The sun shines on him gently. End ID.]

What Now, Link?

And perhaps at the same time, now that he’s said his goodbyes and everything’s settled down, Marla finds Link sitting on a balcony rail of Hyrule Castle, looking out at Castle Town and looking pretty peaceful himself.

She comes up behind him and folds her arms against the rail, smiling up at him.

“So, Link, we finally got your father to listen to you,” she says, and she’s thinking of that conversation at the Shrine of the Furious God when she says it. “What now?”

Link shrugs. “I suppose I’ll stay here for a little while,” he says. He wants to see Gray recovered, and to spend more time with the Royal Family, and it’d be nice, if he’s honest, to rest a while himself. “The Queen says my mother’s family are probably still running around the continent somewhere, so I might look for them after that.” Adventuring runs in the family, apparently, because Zelda Sr. only has some idea of where his grandparents have gotten off to, only some idea of where to find his mother’s younger siblings.

“Sounds like a plan,” Marla says. She looks out at Hyrule Castle Town for a quiet moment, enjoying the sound of Link breathing.

“Do you think,” she says, “That we could take a few weeks to check back at Windfish Isle? I have this horrible suspicion that the Mayor has filled Tonbo and my house with fishing nets and I’d like to let him know to find someone else to live there before the walls take on a permanent stink.”

We’re staying with you so we should let them know goes unspoken, but Marla has known for a while she’s tying herself to Link for the rest of his life the same way she’s tied herself to Tonbo for the rest of his life, and the world’s a bit wider than it was when she and Tonbo left with Link, and if Link’s going to be in the wide world, Marla and Tonbo should be too.

And Link knows what she means. Because family means the people you don’t need so much courage around.

He smiles. “Yeah,” he says. “We can do that.”

[Image Description: Link and Marla. Link is sitting on the balcony rail while Marla is leaning on it. They’re giving one another fond smiles. The sun shines on them gently, giving the image a slightly faded look. End ID.]

#my art #loz au #loz #loz au: the courage of running away #au august #at last!!

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recentanimenews · 4 years ago

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J-Novel Club Anime Expo Lite 2021 Announcements

J-Novel Club took to Anime Expo Lite 2021 to announce yet another sizable slate of titles, many that will launch later today on the service digitally, from pulp novels to its light novel bread and butter and everything in-between, J-Novel Club’s latest slate has something for everyone. Without further ado, the slate of announcements.

Maddrax by Various Authors with Cover Art by Nestor Taylor

When a comet struck Earth, Matthew Drax found himself sent 500 years into the future - only to find civilization in ruins. In a world filled with barbarians, hostile mutants, and lost technology, Drax and co. cross the globe in search of adventure. Having recently saved the world by restoring the moon from its falling orbit, an accident in proceedings causes pockets of parallel worlds to dot the globe. What new dangers await Matt and his travelling companion, the telepathic warrior queen Aruula, as they cross these strange gaps in time and space?

A J-Novel Pulp title launching today with Part 1 of Volume 1!

A Late-Start Tamer’s Laid-Back Life by Yuu Tanaka with Illustrations by Nardack

Old MacDonald had a...gnome?! The Law of Justice Online, also known as LJO, is the hottest new VRMMORPG of the season, and office worker Yuta Sasaki is one of the lucky few granted access to the official launch. After some careful research, Yuta is chomping at the bit to start his virtual life as a Tamer, a class that harnesses the powers of wild monsters. Luckily, upon building his character, Yuta manages to land not only his chosen class, but a heap of bonuses to boot! He soon finds, however, that his abilities are not all they're cracked up to be, and that the talents of the rare first monster he is granted lie not in combat...but gardening! Already well behind the other adventurers, and facing a long and slow progression path ahead of him, Yuta is left with two choices—start over from scratch, or make the best of what he has been given. For Yuta the choice is obvious: When life gives you manure...start up a farm!

Launching today with Parts 1 and 2 of Volume 1!

Chillin' in Another World with Level 2 Super Cheat Powers by Miya Kinojo with Illustrations by Katagiri

The Magical Kingdom of Klyrode summons hundreds of heroes from other worlds every year to fight in their war against the Dark One and his army of powerful demons. Banaza is one of those heroes, summoned from the Royal Capital Paluma, but something’s not right—Banaza is only an average merchant. He has no magic, no fighting ability, and his stats are abysmal. Worse, a mishap leaves him unable to return home! Rejected as a hero and stranded in another world, abandoned to the far reaches of the kingdom by a cruel king who just wants him gone, Banaza’s fate looks pretty bleak. But what will happen once the failed hero candidate finds himself with super cheat powers once he hits level two?

Launching today with Parts 1 and 2 of Volume 1!

Min-Maxing My TRPG Build in Another World by Schuld with Illustrations by Lansane Commissioned in death to save a world in peril, a tabletop RPG fanatic is reborn as a humble farm boy with the rulebook for the universe at his fingertips! Young Erich’s quest for an invincible character build will require more than his decades as a number-crunching munchkin, though. Even with powerleveled skills, feudal life is no cakewalk—especially when you keep drawing more attention than you can handle…Can Erich adapt to his strange new world before his worst impulses take the campaign of a lifetime completely off the rails? Let the dice fall where they may! Launching today with Parts 1 and 2 of Volume 1!

The Reincarnated Princess Spends Another Day Skipping Story Routes by Bisu with Illustrations by Yukiko

After an accident, a modern careerist is reborn as Princess Rosemary Von Velfalt. She soon realizes that her new life is identical to that of a rival character in an otome game that she’d once played to “100%” completion. Luxury and magic abound in the Kingdom of Nevel, alongside a collection of attractive men. However, beneath the suitors' dazzling faces lie awful personalities: masochists, necrophiles, and perverts, oh my! But it’s not all bad news—the side characters are perfect, and Rosemary has fallen for the captain of the royal guard.

Since the game offers no true route to happiness, Rosemary decides to forge her own path; to avoid marriage with the suitors, she'll have to skip their story routes and fix their deviance. She’ll navigate palace and marriage politics, kidnappings, and the threat of war, all while contending with a world that’s drifting further from the game she remembers. “100%” game completion isn’t all it’s cracked up to be— sometimes, “0%” is the route to a dream life! A J-Novel Heart title launching today with Parts 1 and 2 of Volume 1!

My Instant Death Ability is So Overpowered, No One in This Other World Stands a

Chance Against Me! —AΩ— (Manga) by Hanamaru Nanto, Based on the Novels by

Tsuyoshi Fujitaka with Original Character Designs by Chisato Naruse

Awaking to absolute chaos and carnage while on a school trip, Yogiri Takatou discovers that everyone in his class has been transported to another world! He had somehow managed to sleep through the entire ordeal himself, missing out on the Gift — powers bestowed upon the others by a mysterious Sage who appeared to transport them. Even worse, he and another classmate were ruthlessly abandoned by their friends, left as bait to distract a nearby dragon. Although not terribly bothered by the thought of dying, he reluctantly decides to protect his lone companion. After all, a lowly Level 1000 monster doesn't stand a chance against his secret power to invoke Instant Death with a single thought! If he can stay awake long enough to bother using it, that is...Launching today with Chapter 1 of Volume 1!

Reborn to Master the Blade: From Hero-King to Extraordinary Squire♀ (Manga) by Moto Kuromura, Based on the Novels by Hayaken with Original Character Designs by Nagu

From his deathbed, Hero-King Inglis, the divine knight and master of all he surveys, gazes down on the empire he built with his mighty hand. Having devoted his life to statecraft and his subjects’ well-being, his one unfulfilled wish is to live again, for himself this time: a warrior’s life he’d devoted himself to before his rise to power. His patron goddess, Alistia, hears his plea and smiles upon him, flinging his soul into the far future. Goddesses work in mysterious ways—not only is Inglis now the daughter of a minor noble family, but at her first coming-of-age ceremony at 6, she's found ineligible to begin her knighthood! However, for a lady of Inglis's ambition, this is less a setback and more the challenge she was (re)born to overcome. “It's not the blood that runs through your veins that makes a knight; it’s the blood you shed on the battlefield!” The curtain rises on the legend of an extraordinary lady squire reborn to master the blade! Coming Soon to J-Novel Club!

My Daughter Left the Nest and Returned an S-Rank Adventurer by MOJIKAKIYA

with Illustrations by toi8

The life of an adventurer isn’t always a glamorous one.

Belgrieve finds this out the hard way when a deadly encounter robs him of his leg and the ability to pursue his dreams not long after setting off for fame and fortune. But fate isn’t finished with this retired adventurer! While gathering herbs in the wilderness, he discovers an abandoned baby girl and names her Angeline after deciding to raise her as his own. Angeline grows up to become a top-tier adventurer in her own right, yet after venturing out into the world and making a name for herself, fame, fortune, and power hold no allure for the accomplished S-rank adventurer: her heartfelt wish is for nothing more than to see her father again.

Launching today with Parts 1 and 2 of Volume 1!

Dragon Daddy Diaries: A Girl Grows to Greatness by Ameko Kaeruda with Illustrations by Sencha

“Daddy!” The dragon blinked as the wee little human called out to him. Him? Her “Daddy”? Powerful enough to have been venerated by humankind, yet warmhearted and even a tad ditzy, the dragon soon finds himself raising and doting on the precocious Olivia as if she really were his daughter in this touching tale. The toddler may be impossibly cute now, but just you wait—she’s a curious child and she’s growing up real fast. You can bet that one day, she’ll be the strongest human there is! But first, how will he handle little Olivia receiving an acceptance letter to a human school? Launching today with Parts 1 and 2 of Volume 1!

Dahlia in Bloom: Crafting a Fresh Start With Magical Tools by Hisaya Amagishi with Illustrations by Kei

After dying of overwork in Japan, Dahlia is reborn into a world filled with magic. Raised by a master of magical toolmaking, she develops a passion for the craft and becomes engaged to her father’s apprentice. Before her father can see her wed, however, he suddenly passes away. As if this weren’t enough, on the day before their wedding, her fiancé announces that he’s in love—but not with her! Dahlia finally realizes she needs to live for herself. She vows to be her own woman from now on and devote herself to her craft, even if it’s not quite the quiet life she was hoping for! From a chance encounter with a knight to starting her own company, there are challenges aplenty on the horizon. But this young craftswoman is no longer a shrinking violet—she’s Dahlia, and she’s ready to bloom.

A J-Novel Heart title launching today with Parts 1 and 2 of Volume 1!

Hell Mode ~The Hardcore Gamer Dominates in Another World with Garbage Balancing~ by Hamuo with Illustrations by Mo

“‘Level up even while offline’?! That’s not a game on ‘easy mode’—that’s just an AFK game!” The online game Yamada Kenichi had been playing religiously is shutting down its servers, leaving him with a void in his heart. He looks for a new game to fill it, but everything he finds is way too easy. The kind of game he likes—the kind punishing enough to make players want to spend thousands of hours on it—just isn’t around anymore. “What’s this? ‘You are invited to a game that will never end.’” Kenichi stumbles upon an untitled game, one promising incomparable challenge with unprecedented potential. Without hesitation, he selects the “Hell Mode” difficulty. Lo and behold, he finds himself reincarnated in another world as a serf! Now called Allen, he sets out to unlock the secrets of his mystery-laden Summoner class; without the convenience of walkthroughs, game guides, or online forums, he must grope his way to the top of his new world! Launching today with Parts 1 and 2 of Volume 1!

By: Humberto Saabedra

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

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onyxiana-is-obsessed · 5 years ago

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Executioner | Demon!Hitoshi Shinsou x Master!Reader

Hiya friends! This is another server prompt we had! I choose the Spooky Theme with Shinsou! I hope you like it! This was grueling to get through TTwTT Length: 6.3k words

Executioner II (Part 2)

Summary: Your family has had the ability to summon demons for generations. Your quirk, along with your mother’s, allows you to summon powerful demons to aid you in battle. You were too terrified to use your quirk when you were a child, However, that quickly changes when you’re attacked at night and summon a mighty powerful demon.

Tags: @shiggi-trash @happynoodle

Masterlist for the other prompts! Go read!

Full Name: (y/f/n) Quirk: Summoner; user can create a pact with and summon demons from hell to aid them in battle. Age: 20

In this odd world where more than 80% of the population had a quirk, you were no different. Over the years, quirks had evolved from simple things like levitating to be able to take things apart with just a touch from your finger.

Your own quirk was nothing short of odd and weird. According to your mother, an ancestor of yours practiced dark magic, leading her to become a witch. She had dabbled in it enough to give your family line the ability to summon demons. Unfortunately, somehow that ability turned into a quirk and you had very little control over it.

Your mother, who was a pro hero, used to tell you stories about being able to summon demons to aid her in battle. However, that was something that terrified you. You’d seen the demons your mother was able to summon, they were horrifying, disfigured, powerful, and huge.

From an early age, you’d decided never to use your quirk. Not even to summon little helper demons. You wanted nothing to do with them and you told your mom how you felt. Although she was disappointed, she accepted your decision regardless. Due to this, you never learned how to use your abilities, ever.

You were sorely regretting that decision now.

You were on your way home from a late-night shift at work when you could hear footsteps behind you. Obviously, it wasn’t very alarming at first, but you could swear you heard them talking about you. They described your outfit perfectly.

You could feel the uneasiness set in, your heart was beating out of your chest and your palms were sweating. You felt your breathing speed up and any bit of hope was fleeting. Multiple scenarios filled your head and none of them ended well. Recently, villain activity had spiked and numerous people were getting attacked later at night. You had just asked today to have your shift changed to day time and your boss had told you he’d be willing to switch you with another coworker, but you wouldn’t be able to start for three more days. Would you even make it till tomorrow?

You didn’t know who to call, it was late, meaning your mother was no doubt asleep, so she wouldn’t be able to help you. You fished your phone out of your (purse/bag) and quickly dialed the police. Before you were able to put the phone to your ear, it was snatched out of your hand and you felt yourself get shoved into an alley. Your screams were immediately muffled by a hand on your mouth.

The dread built up in your chest when you saw three, tall men crowd around you with the fourth holding you in place. Tears slid down your cheeks when they laughed at how helpless you were.

Struggling was futile, they were too strong, especially the one holding you. No matter what you did, his grip never loosened and you were getting tired. Finally, without seeing any light of hope, you gave in. You stopped struggling and let them do whatever they wanted.

“They’ll do fine. Take them to the van.” The fear spiked again and you fought back. You screamed and struggled when they started to drag you away to their vehicle, but everything was in vain, just as before.

Why didn’t you learn? Why didn’t you ever ask your mom for help? Why were you always so scared? Even if you were scared, you should’ve asked her to teach you something in case of emergencies. Your mother was known for her ability to summon battle class demons, one’s who specialized in fighting and defense. You needed that. You desperately needed one.

Now, look at you, the child of a powerful hero who had inherited the exact same abilities, about to get kidnapped and you couldn’t even put up a fight.

Tears of regret, remorse, and fear rolled down your cheeks as they opened the door to their black van. They dragged you closer and the only thought that crossed your mind was a small, weak plea.

Help!

Your eyes started to glow bright (e/c) as they shoved you into the van causing you to trip and fall into another pair of arms that wrapped around you. The villains froze and backed up, making your fear intensify.

However, the arms that were around you weren’t very tight and it didn’t feel like they were holding you down. They felt almost protective. A scent similar to lavender and something citrusy surrounded you and it was... comforting?

“Are you alright, master?” Your head snapped to the voice and a man with wild purple hair and lilac eyes stared down at you.

“M-master?” You stuttered out as he gently moved out of the van. The villains were too stunned to move, so when you were out of the way, two large swords appeared in his hands.

“Ready to die?” The villains finally scattered, running in different directions, but they weren’t able to get very far because red and black chains spurted from the ground and wrapped around their torsos. They all collapsed with a loud thud, their bodies hitting the floors. As they struggled, the chains started to move upwards, wrapping around their entire bodies.

You watched in fear as the demon stalked towards them. You took note of the large red and black wings that sat on his back. You weren’t able to see his expression, but the expression of the villain below him… that terrified you. You watched as the demon raised his sword up high and plunged it into the villain’s chest.

Your hand flew to your mouth as your back hit the cold metal of the van. You wanted to scream, you wanted to run, you wanted to call for help, but you were frozen, unable to move anything. It felt like you weren’t even in your own body. Nothing but a silent gasp escaped your mouth.

The villain’s body quickly turned to dust and the chains hit the ground. The demon continued until he’d killed the other three and you watched as the chains slowly melted into the ground and disappeared.

Your eyes finally met with the killer’s and they were glowing bright pink, slowly returning to a soft lilac. He looked like a normal human aside from the large wings on his back, which had little tears and cuts in them. He was shirtless, but on his wrists, you noticed golden shackles that glimmered until the moonlight. The chains hung loosely, making it seem like he’d broken free of wherever he’d been held. His lilac hair stood on ends, moving around almost as if it were floating.

“Are you alright, master?” He inquired, keeping still where he stood. Unable to speak, you slowly lowered your shaking hand which had been on your mouth and nodded. “May I approach?”

“Wh-who a-are-”

“My name is Hitoshi Shinsou,” he bowed at the waist, “I’m an executioner demon. It’s a pleasure to meet you, master.”

“Wh-what?” He slowly approached you, now standing only a couple of feet away.

“Let’s get you home first.” You’d seen your mother and father interact with these demons plenty of times. They usually never meant their masters any harm, since they were the only way for the demons to see the light of day. Executioner demons weren’t very… friendly. They were dangerous and as their name stated, they were killers.

Demons all had different classes, the tamest and most pleasant were the helper demons. Usually they were summoned to do as their names suggested, help out. The next tier was defense demons, usually larger demons built to take hits upon hits without tiring. After that came attack demons, something your mother specialized in. She was known for having the most powerful attack demons, which made her an amazing hero. Then the last tier, something even she didn’t mess with. Executioner demons.

Executioner demons were very unpredictable and usually weren’t very nice. They were bloodthirsty and unless you wanted to be a villain, they were useless.

“O-ok.” You quietly answered, not wanting to anger him further. He moved closer and picked you up in his arms. Once he had a steady grip, his wings flapped and he was able to take to the skies, flying straight towards your apartment.

You were silent, still trying to figure out how you were able to summon such a high-risk demon so easily, without hurting yourself in the process. You’d have to call your mother in the morning and find out how to deal with this demon.

Within a few minutes, he’d brought you home and was setting you down on your bed. He could see that you were on edge about him being there, but he stayed silent. Instead, he helped you remove your shoes and jacket. He took your pajamas out of your closet and set them on your bed before grabbing what you had just removed.

“I’ll put these where they belong. Please get changed while I’m gone.” Without waiting for your reply, he left the room. With a shaky hand, you reached to grab your pajamas and removed your current clothing. You slid on your pajamas and sat back on your bed, waiting for the demon to return.

The house felt colder and there was a weird uncomfortable feeling you had in your chest. You often remember feeling like this when your mother’s demons were around the house. The atmosphere grew cold and sometimes you didn’t even feel like you were home.

Except, this demon didn’t feel threatening. Not to you, anyways. He was extremely handsome and his voice was rather soothing. Aside from the shackles on his wrists and the large wings on his back… he wasn’t all that scary, either.

“Thank you.” You jumped when you saw the demon standing in your doorway with a smile on his face.

“Wh-what?”

“You called me handsome and said my voice was soothing. So, thank you.” Did… did you talk out loud? Your face turned a deep shade of red and it made him chuckle. “It’s our connection, look.” He turned around and you finally got a good look at his rather toned back. Aside from the divots and curves of his muscles and his large wings, you saw the medium-sized symbol in between where his wings sprouted out.

It was a circle separated in six pieces with each piece holding a weird symbol. It seemed as if the entire symbol was being pierced by a spear. It was a dark red color and it seemed extremely familiar to you, even though you’d never seen it before.

“What is that?” He turned around, facing you again.

“That’s our mark. When you summoned me, it branded me with this mark and it means I am now at your service.”

“F-for l-like my soul?” He shook his head.

“Nothing like that. Our wish is to see the human world, especially mine. You granted my wish therefore I shall serve you. This mark is also called a connection. When you give me an order, it’ll glow. It also allows me to read your mind.”

Oh. So you hadn’t spoken up, he just looked into your head.

“P-please don’t do that again.”

“Understood. Do I have your permission to read your mind in emergency situations?” You thought for a moment, he was already agreeing to your terms? Without putting up any sort of fight? Demons were known for being manipulative, so is that what he was doing? Your mother never dealt with that.

“O-ok. Sure.” He bowed his head with a smile.

“Thank you. How are you feeling? Are you hurt?” You took a moment to finally look down at yourself, you hadn’t even realized if you had been injured. Were you hurt? After sliding your hands around your arms, legs, sides, you shook your head.

“I’m ok.” He walked closer to you, forcing you to lay down and pulled the covers over you.

“Then rest. Summoning me took a lot out of you and you don’t realize it. Worry not, master. I will be here when you awaken.” Could you trust him? Could you let yourself be so vulnerable in front of this unknown demon?

It didn’t matter much, because within seconds your eyes were already drooping. You weren’t able to stay awake, even if you wanted to. Your body felt so heavy and exhausted, how come you didn’t notice it earlier?

He sat on the floor and leaned over your bed, his fingers gently sliding against your cheek. You were too weak to even push him off, but there was an odd emotion building up. Comfort? His hand was cold against your warm cheeks but it was a nice feeling. You sighed in content as you closed your eyes.

Shinsou gently caressed your cheek as you slowly fell into a deep sleep. As promised, he stayed by your side all night, keeping you safe. The next morning, when you woke up, he was right where you’d left him.

“Good morning, master. Sleep well?” Actually, you had. It had been a long while since you’d had a good night’s rest like that. Was it because of him? Did Shinsou’s presence help you rest easy? Or were you so exhausted that your body had a more restful sleep.

You only nodded silently and he helped you to your feet, before walking you to the bathroom.

“Take your time. I’ll have breakfast ready by the time you’re done.”

“Ok, thank you.” With that he walked out of your room and towards the kitchen, while you went into the bathroom to shower. So last night wasn’t a dream. It had all happened and you were now stuck with a demon? Maybe there was a way to send him back, your mother would know for sure.

You took a quick shower and brushed your teeth before coming back out and finding your phone from your (purse/bag). You quickly called your mom and waited impatiently for her to pick up.

“Hello?”

“Mom? I-I summoned a demon. I don’t know what to do, he says he’s an executioner class demon. How do I get rid of him? What am I supposed to do-”

“Honey, calm down. I can’t understand anything. Take a deep breath and then tell me slowly. What happened?”

“I summoned a demon.”

***

“So you are?” Your mother asked, looking at the demon that stood next to you. Currently, both you and your mother were sitting at the dining table, having some tea while your demon stood behind you, quietly.

“My name is Hitoshi Shinsou. I am an executioner demon. A pleasure to meet you.”

“Well, he’s pleasant, at least. My name is (m/n) and this is my child, you already know them.” He gave her a curt nod. “He’ll be here for a certain amount of time, since you didn’t make a proper pact with him.”

“How long?” You asked, sipping the tea.

“I’m not sure. I would say about two, maybe two and a half weeks.” You almost choked on your tea.TWO WEEKS?! That’s a long time!

“T-two w-weeks?”

“Normally when you make a pact with them, meaning you summoned them on purpose, they stay as long as you want. However, you invited him through fear. Your fear brought out a rather powerful demon, which isn’t a bad thing necessarily. Your fear is currently grounding him here.”

“Mom, I’m not a hero like you…”

“I understand, but you shouldn’t throw away this opportunity.” You’d always wanted to be a hero… but your own quirk scared you. How were you supposed to save other people while still fearing yourself?

There wasn’t much your mother could do, aside from tell you to give the demon a chance. Shinsou was… pretty helpful actually. He wasn’t overly violent, he was pretty careful too, always obeying all of your demands without any arguments.

Having him around almost made you question why you were so scared to begin with. Why were you so scared? You were a child when your mother would summon them, never in front of you, of course, but you’d end up seeing them. They were large, hulking masses and to a little child, they were terrifying.

But… how come Shinsou wasn’t? You’d only ever seen disfigured and odd looking demons before, never a human-esque one. The only humanoid you’d seen when you were younger was a demon called Elvath. She was a powerful offensive demon, she had the body of a woman which was all grey. It seemed as if her skin were her clothes and she had a large set of wings and preferred to fly. On top of that, she had no face, but her voice was always as clear as day.

“Shinsou?”

“Yes, Master?” He asked, looking up at you. He was currently helping you fold your laundry and he was an amazing helper. Not to mention he was a great cook.

“How come… you’re so normal looking?”

“How do you mean?”

“You look like a human. I’ve seen so many of you but they were always so… scary.” He smiled a little, looking down at the clothes he was helping you with.

“We all look different. There are plenty powerful or weaker demons that look more human. Some even choose to look disfigured over their normal human looking bodies. Fear fuels us and since your family is the only one who can summon and control us, there’s plenty of fear for us to harvest.”

“Harvest?” He nodded.

“When you get scared, you let off a distressed aura, most humans do. We feed on that. It makes us more powerful, especially over the human that we’re targeting. That’s why your mother can control us so well, she doesn’t fear us.”

“Wh-what about m-me?” He chuckled a little, sending a shiver up your spine.

“Your stutter says it all, master.”

“You feed off of my fear?”

“Nothing like that. I can, but I choose not to. I’m here to help you, not make things worse for you.”

“How… Did I summon you anyway?” He paused and looked at you before his lilac eyes started glowing pink. You backed up as he moved closer, until you had nowhere to go. As you stared into his eyes, your world started to melt away and it seemed as if you were watching a movie.

You saw Shinsou walking around a rocky region, the sky was red and you could see fire and smoke in the distance. He didn’t seem worried in the slightest, but you watched as golden beams shot down around him. He immediately covered his face as the two shackles appeared on his wrists. When you looked up at the source of the light, you saw a bright blue sky, with cotton like clouds peering down at you. It was beautiful compared to where he was currently.

Shinsou didn’t fight it, instead, he let the magic take him, pulling him out of hell and bringing him to you.

The purple-haired demon backed away from you as his eyes returned to their natural lilac. You were silent for a moment, taking in everything you’d just seen. That’s how he’d been brought here? Against his will?

“I-I’m sorry…” You whispered and he knew exactly what you meant. He shook his head, reaching out and brushing your hair back.

“It’s alright. I prefer to be out here anyway. You caught a glimpse of my home, it’s not that pretty. Most of us like being out here, so what if we have to serve a human? We’ll outlive you anyway.”

You looked down at his words, continuing to fold your laundry. How old was he? He must’ve been down there for years, right? Was it lonely? Did it hurt? How bad was hell? You’d heard a million and one things about it and here was your chance to finally learn.

“What’s it like? Down there?”

For the rest of the day, you and Shinsou talked about what his home was like. After hearing everything, you were determined to find a better place for yourself. Maybe… having him around wasn’t so bad after all.

***

Over the next few days, you felt yourself letting your guard down around Shinsou. He was still kind as ever, willing to help you out with whatever you needed. You’d asked him a few times why he was so obedient and he never really gave you a straight answer. Aside from just saying because you were his master. You knew for a fact you were too weak to control him, yet here he was, bending to your every will.

Why? There wasn’t a real reason… So what was he doing? Executioner demons needed to kill. Their bloodthirst wasn’t just for show, they needed to kill to keep from losing control. Yet, here he was, doing menial tasks for a weak human.

However, these last few days were a bit eye opening for you. You had gotten much closer with Shinsou and you started to realize why your mother worked with demons to begin with. They weren’t that bad, actually. Shinsou was… definitely something else.

“Hey, w-wait!” You giggled as you reached for the rag in his hand. He laughed a little as he raised it over his head, making you lean against him in an effort to try to get it. Your laughter melded together as you reached and reached, forgetting how close you two had gotten.

You froze when you saw Shinsou’s face inches away from yours. His own eyes widened, his lilac orbs drifting down to your lips. Your hand slowly came down and landed on his chest as you now leaned your body weight against him. You unconsciously leaned in, but he made no effort to move. He knew humans did something like this, they liked to kiss each other, but he’d never experienced such a thing.

As your lips got closer and closer, he felt something build up in his chest. It wasn’t a good feeling. When you were centimeters away from kissing, he turned his head and backed away from you.

“Forgive me.” Was all he said as he held the rag out to you. You frowned, feeling the embarrassment creep up as you silently took the object away from him. Shinsou didn’t speak, instead, he only bowed his head a little and walked away to the kitchen to prepare for lunch.

The entire day, you couldn’t get what had happened out of your head. You found it difficult to look at Shinsou and, unfortunately, your walls returned once again. That was something Shinsou didn’t like. You were nicer than his other masters, but you were the most closed off. You barely talked to him and instead of treating him like the slave that he was supposed to be, you treated him as an equal and he didn’t know how to feel about it.

He didn’t know what to do when he’d see you. There were plenty of times where he’d feel something deep inside his chest when he saw your sleeping face. He could feel the heat build-up in his cheeks when he saw you giggle at something, or when you’d wear a cute outfit that day, or when you did literally anything.

Before meeting you, Shinsou never saw the appeal in kissing. He thought it was something stupid humans did and just the thought made him cringe. But earlier… when his face was so close he could smell the sweet scent you gave off, something weird happened. He felt the need to lean in and capture those soft lips of yours. It was intense, actually. He had barely been able to control himself, almost like his bloodthirst.

As the days went by, it was getting closer and closer for Shinsou to leave. According to your mother, Shinsou was only going to be around for about two and a half weeks and it had already been 14 days. Meaning, he only had three or four more days and you couldn’t handle that.

Shinsou was still professional, he’d always been that way. But there were moments where he wasn’t. There were moments where he, too, let his guard down. Every single night, Shinsou would sit on the ground next to your bed as you slept, in an attempt to keep you safe. It helped, often. You wouldn’t know it, but when you turned to face Shinsou, he would lay his head next to yours and just… watch you.

Something about your face made him feel happy. Seeing your innocent face made him feel less of a monster than he always was. Shinsou knew how much blood he had on his hands and it didn’t usually haunt him, but he could feel the weight of it at times. All of that disappeared when he saw you.

Shinsou liked to reach out, letting his thumb brush against your soft skin. It didn’t take long for the demon to realize he was in a lot of trouble. He wanted to stay, but not because he’d gotten his wish to see the outside world. Because he couldn’t bear to leave you alone. You had friends, sure, but they weren’t trustworthy in his eyes. Shinsou didn’t want to trust some other demon with someone as precious as you. He needed to stay… he was going to stay.

You weren’t strong enough to send him back, not like your mother would’ve been able to if she accidentally summoned him. Meaning, if Shinsou wanted to stay, he could easily make that happen. The mark was already starting to disappear, so your hold on him was getting weaker and weaker. For once in his life, Shinsou didn’t want to kill or hurt anything. He just wanted to protect something that made his heart beat faster than any adrenaline rush he’d ever felt before.

“Master?” Shinsou said, sitting up. It was about 2 am and you were fast asleep, when Shinsou saw you stir uncomfortably. He saw you shift multiple times, he saw the way you gripped the sheets and the way your face contorted. His hands reached out and gently grabbed your shoulders as he carefully shook you out of your nightmare.

Your eyes shot open, a scream erupting from your lips. Your eyes met his concerned ones and you slowly breathed in relief. You had a nightmare about a disfigured creature chasing after you. It was so fast and you couldn’t do much except call out to Shinsou, however, he didn’t answer you.

“Master, it’s alright. It was just a nightmare.” He soothed, sitting on the edge of your bed and moving the sheets off of you. You slowly sat up, letting the cool breeze from the open window bring down your temperature a bit. Shinsou grabbed the glass of water from your nightstand and held it out to you. You normally never kept any water nearby, but Shinsou did. Just in case.

“I… I,” after taking a few sips you tried to explain your nightmare to him. “I was running away from… something. Some big, scary creature, and I was calling out for you. B-but you n-never came.” He pushed your hair back as he took the cup away from you and placed it back on the nightstand.

“I would never leave you in a situation like that, master. Whenever you call, I’ll answer. No matter what.” Having Shinsou around changed you a little, you were less wary of people. You were more confident and you were able to rely on someone else for once.

You knew you had developed feelings for the demon, it wasn’t hard to tell. He was always making your heart beat faster than ever, he always made you blush, and you liked it when he teased you or flirted. Whenever he called you cute, you loved it. You needed more of it.

“Thank you, Shinsou.” You said as you looked out the window. Four nights and three days. That’s all you had with him. That’s all you had with the demon you’d fallen in love with. The more you thought about it, the more you wanted to be a hero. Shinsou could teach you to fight and so could your mother. You could form a real pact with him and he could help you save people.

Being a hero was always inside you somewhere, but you pushed it down. Deep down. Being a hero wasn’t for you, or so you thought. Getting rid of a powerful demon like Shinsou was a bad idea. He was obedient, meaning he would never kill anyone you don’t want him to. However, you were still so hesitant and you weren’t sure if he even wanted to stay. Shinsou was a killer and you weren’t. You two didn’t really match. An attack demon like Elvath was better, she was a fighter, but not a killer.

“You should rest, master, come.” Shinsou helped you lay down but when he went to sit on the ground, you caught his arm.

“Hold me.” It wasn’t a question or a request. Normally, you’d ask Shinsou for stuff. You rarely ever commanded him, but it didn’t matter this time. Your demon didn’t want to refuse your order. Without saying anything, he laid down next, readjusting you a bit so that one of his wings was under you. He pulled the sheets up to you and laid his other wing on top of you, protectively. Finally, he pulled you into his chest, his heat spreading to you.

Shinsou was usually cold, being the demon that he was. However, when he used his magic a little, his body would heat up like a furnace. He’d be just the perfect temperature to warm you up, not to mention how his wings would help the heat build-up. You almost didn’t need the blanket.

You pressed your body against him, closing your eyes and inhaling his scent. He ran a hand through your hair to help soothe you and you felt your fears melt away.

Man, you’d really gone and fallen in love with a demon, huh? Out of all the humans around you, you chose the Executioner demon.

***

The last few days were spent together. You and Shinsou were… much more closer. You almost regretted waiting so long. Actually, you did regret waiting so long, because he was leaving tonight.

Right now, you were snuggled up to Shinsou watching your favorite movie. When it ended, you were going to perform the small ritual to send him back. It was nothing too difficult and you’d rehearsed it with your mother plenty of times.

You’d miss Shinsou. You’d miss every time he teased you, you’d miss the nights he’d sit next to you while you slept, you’d miss making meals with him, you’d miss hearing his soothing voice, you’d miss his arms around you, you’d miss his distinct scent, you’d miss having another person around… and you’d really miss the demon you’d fallen in love with.

There was no denying it at this point. You had asked your mother if sending Shinsou back would hurt his feelings and she let you know they had none. Most demons didn’t rely on emotions due to them thinking it made them weak. You never asked Shinsou, personally, but the way he acted, it seemed like he didn’t care either. Just like your mother had said.

Little did you know, Shinsou had been dreading tonight. He hated the idea of returning to his home, cold and alone. You had made him feel things he’d never felt before. You made him happy, something he didn’t even know he could feel. He didn’t know what to do. So far, you still wanted him to leave. Would it be right for him to reject the ritual? Would it be right for him to stay here, even though you didn’t want him to? Everything you’d given him… you’d be taking it away when you sent him back.

You frowned when you saw the movie finally come to an end. As the credits rolled, you tried your best to keep your tears down. Shinsou already knew you were weak, you didn’t need to act like it.

As the two of you prepared to send him back, you were both silent. You looked over to Shinsou every now and then but saw no emotion on his face. He… really didn’t care?

Shinsou drew the symbol on the ground as you set up the candles. You were performing the ritual right in your living room, he’d helped you move some of your stuff out of the way.

Once everything was ready, you turned off the lights and Shinsou lit the candles. He stood in the center of the symbol and you stood in front of him. You found the piece of paper with the instructions and words your mother had written for you.

“Ready?” You asked, looking up at him. One last try, right?

“I am.” You immediately looked down, desperately trying to hide your disappointment and breaking heart. Your eyes drifted over the letters as you began to read them aloud. Your eyes and Shinsou’s mark started to glow before his own eyes turned a light pink. As you repeat the spell over and over, the symbol on the ground turned into a black and red quicksand. Shadowy hands reached out and grabbed onto the chains of the shackles on his wrists. They also wrapped around his feet and grabbed his legs.

The atmosphere had changed. It had gotten colder and you felt a sense of fear starting to creep in. That was a portal straight to hell. You could hear the screams of agony and trauma echoing in your house and it hurt. It physically hurt to hear their screams. However, your focus was switched to your demon quickly.

You watched with a frown as they tugged him down, which seemed to hurt him. Was he in pain? Did the ritual physically hurt him? Only one word ran through your mind, over and over again. You silently begged him to read your mind like he’d done the first time. You silently begged him to do or say anything else. You needed him to stay. You needed him to lay with you every night, you needed him to help you cook meals, clean your house, spend time with you. You needed him.

Shinsou’s glowing pink eyes looked up at you one last time. Your eyes met his and that same word repeated over and over in your head. Shinsou knew you hated it, but he… he needed to see what you were feeling. He needed to see what you were thinking. So he looked and was shocked when he heard your voice in his head.

Reject

You didn’t want him to leave? You… you wanted him to stay! His eyes widened and for once you saw actual emotion in them. You saw the fear coursing through his being, you saw the regret and remorse.

Shinsou had an order now. He let out a loud growl as his powerful wings started to push him up and away from the ritual circle. You watched berry pink mist emit from his body, which started to glow. The bright colors started to appear on his skin, as if they were seeping through. They crawled along his wings too.

You watched in awe as he tore himself from the powerful grip the ritual had on him. The mist from his body swirled and flew down into the symbol and you watched as the portal to hell started to close. The screams intensified, almost as if it was a maniac screaming demands. They were almost incoherent, but they were terrifying. You dropped the paper as you covered your ears with shaky hands. They were so loud and bone-shaking, you had no idea what to do! Is this what your mother dealt with? Is this what Shinsou had to deal with?

The portal finally closed and everything went deathly silent. Your senses returned and you could hear the flapping of Shinsou’s wings as he landed back on the symbol. Your eyes met and he spoke, making your heart soar.

“Please don’t send me back, (f/n).” Hearing him say your name as opposed to calling you master was nice. It wasn’t him addressing you as someone higher than him, it was him addressing you as a friend. Someone he felt equal to.

You held your hands out to him, calling him over. He wasted no time before quickly engulfing you in a warm hug, his wings wrapping around you protectively.

“I’m sorry!” You cried out, unable to hold back the tears that slid down your cheeks. “I’m so sorry! I-I d-didn’t want you to l-leave, but I thought you’d be b-better off wi-with a stronger master.” Shinsou chuckled, taking your face in his hands and gazing deep into your eyes.

“I only want you, (f/n). No one else. I want to protect you and keep you safe for as long as time will let me.” His thumbs gently brushed away the tears that slid down your warm cheeks.

You felt the same pull as you did that one day. You were scared, you didn’t want to drive him away. But you didn’t have to do anything, not this time.

Shinsou leaned down, his lips capturing yours. It was soft and gentle, something that didn’t match the demon in front of you. Executioner demons were the opposite of soft and gentle, yet here stood one in front of you, treating you as if you were glass.

His lips melded with yours so perfectly. His pace was slow, allowing your scattered mind to keep up with him. One of his hands let go of your face and wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. When you pulled away, you were breathless, but not speechless.

“Will you make a pact with me, Hitoshi?”

“Of course, master.”

#mha #mha imagines #mha x reader #bnha #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #my hero academia #shinso hitoshi #mha shinsou #hitoshi shinso x reader #bnha shinso hitoshi #hitoshi shinso imagine #boku no hero x reader #my hero academia x reader #mha x you #bnha x you

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loki-hargreeves · 5 years ago

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Good Omens Imagine - You Summon a Demon

Warnings: demon summoning, this is honestly just a crack fic, vulgar language, a moody demon Word Count: 2K Summary: Out of boredom, you decide to summon a demon, not believing that it would actually work. You end up summoning Crowley in your apartment. A very worried angel comes looking for him as well. That’s how you meet Crowley and Aziraphale. Author’s Note: This has been on my mind for a while now. I don’t actually know how to summon a demon so please excuse how I wrote it. It’s not meant to be taken seriously. Please enjoy <3

THIRD POV

It was a silly idea, truly. Y/N and her friend had been out at the nearest bar and after a few drinks, they ended up discussing paranormal stuff. Somehow the conversation morphed into the two of them planning on playing with the Ouija board Y/N had somewhere in her apartment, possibly hidden in her closet or underneath her bed to gather dust. In their tipsy minds, it sounded like a perfect plan.

As Y/N returned home alone, she remembered that. She decided to find the board and get it ready for tomorrow. But as she found it hiding underneath her bed, she got an idea.

What if she played alone? It’s not like anything would actually happen, but it could be fun nevertheless. Surely, she would laugh at herself about it afterwards. So that’s what she did. Y/N set up the board on the floor, lit up a few candles to set the mood. She turned off all the lights and covered the mirrors in her bedroom. In order to play, she quickly read the instructions. Just like that, she was ready to get started.

As much as she was convinced that it was fake, it still made her nervous. There was always that small chance that it would work, right?

“Okay, I’m calling in good spirits. No negative entities are welcome here,” Y/N started as the online instructions had instructed her. “If anyone’s actually there, I would like to play with you.” Gosh, that sounded so wrong, she thought.

She sat on the floor with her fingers on the pointer. After a few moments of silence later, nothing happened which relieved her. She sank her shoulders and smiled, feeling much more comfortable now that it hadn’t moved. “This is so stupid, it’s not like this board could actually summon a demon,” The woman laughed by herself, giving her words zero thoughts whatsoever.

If only she had known the power of her words.

As if on cue, something happened. The pointer began to shake underneath her fingers which startled her out of her skin. Y/N let out a scream as she got up from the floor, watching in horror as the Ouija board shook wildly. That was not supposed to happen! “Holy fuck, shit…fuck!” Y/N whimpered in horror. Her eyes were glued to the board. Once it began to levitate, she almost passed out.

Was she dreaming?

Or was she drunk? Y/N hadn’t had that much to drink either.

Her heart was pounding so hard from fear that she felt it all the way up in her throat. She wanted to run away, but her entire body was frozen in shock. Her fight or flight response seemed to betray her.

A bright light came seemingly out of nowhere. It was so bright in fact that Y/N had to close her teary eyes. A few moments later, the light seemed to vanish, and she heard that the board dropped back on the floor. Terrorized by what she saw, she still decided to look at the board. What she saw next was definitely not a Ouija board.

There was a man, a tall man in fact, standing right in front of her. He had ginger hair, an all-black outfit and round sunglasses. Although the lenses were dark, she noticed that he had yellow eyes. Yellow! The man, or whatever it was, seemed annoyed. “Aw fuck! Couldn’t this have happened a little later? I was just in the middle of something!” The stranger groaned in a…British accent?

“What the fuck are you?” Y/N cried in fear, wanting to keep a distance between her and the man.

“There’s no need to be so rude, damn,” the ginger man, creature, whatever replied to her. Shivers ran down Y/N’s spine. In her mind, she was convinced that she had just summoned death itself into her own bedroom. She wanted to scream and cry, to run as far away as she could, but she could only stand there as her world began to spin wildly. Her vision began to brighten until she saw white. A split second later, her body failed her as she lost consciousness.

The demon, Crowley, wanted to leave. But he had been summoned and now there was an unconscious woman on the floor inf front of him. As pissed off as he was, he decided to wake her up. Surely, the candles would burn down her house if he just left her like that. “Get up, will you?” Crowley sighed and squat down on the floor right next to her. He poked her body with his long fingers, noticing the details of her appearance. He wondered why on earth she had summoned a demon and why it just had to be him! Crowley had been at Aziraphale’s bookshop as he was summoned. Surely, the angel was worried as hell over his disappearance.

When his poking didn’t bring her back, Crowley cursed under his breath. He wanted to leave, truly, but he couldn’t. He had been summoned. He had to end this ritual she had started, and he couldn’t do that when she was in an entirely different world than him.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows together as her headache grew worse, so bad in fact that it woke her up. Carefully, she rubbed her temples and moaned in pain. Did she really get such a terrible hangover over a couple drinks? She opened her eyes and noticed she was in bed, although she couldn’t remember ever getting in it. Then she heard two men talking. Quickly, she was fully awake, and she remembered what happened.

The man!

Y/N got out of bed and followed the voices. Although she was terrified, she was curious. She walked out of her bedroom and looked into her living room. There were two men there, talking until they noticed Y/N. One of them was the same man that appeared out of thin air. The other one looked much kinder. He had light locks of hair, big blue eyes and beige clothes. For a moment, it was perfectly quiet in her apartment. Little did Y/N know she had a demon and an angel in her living room. She was convinced at this point that this was a fever dream.

“Someone’s finally awake! Great. Now just end what you started so we can leave,” The ginger one broke the silence. He sounded angry which was indeed horrifying. Y/N didn’t know them or what they were capable of.

It made the other man sigh, “Crowley, can’t you see she’s terrified?”

What kind of a name was Crowley? Why was the other one so considerate? Nothing made sense to Y/N in that moment.

The same man continued, “Hello, I’m Aziraphale and this is my friend Crowley. I know you’re scared, but I promise that you’re just fine,” Aziraphale tried to ease her mind a little bit as Crowley rolled his eyes in the background and crossed his arms like a grumpy child.

“How did you…where did you come from?” Y/N managed to say something despite her worries.

“You summoned me, remember? Aziraphale just followed me,” Crowley snapped.

Aziraphale couldn’t just ignore it when Crowley vanished into thin air right in front of his nose. Of course, he followed the demon! A little curiosity went a long way. “This doesn’t usually happen. You see, in order to actually summon a demon…”

“A demon?!” Y/N breathed out in shock and her eyes widened. It sounded absurd, but it would explain what she saw.

“He’s not a bad demon! You know, he used to be an angel…” Aziraphale tried to speak, but he was cut off again.

“Aziraphale!” Crowley hissed, angry that the angel had to mention it to this stranger woman.

What the hell was going on? Had Y/N lost it? She was beginning to believe that.

“As I was trying to say,” Aziraphale raised his gentle voice ever so slightly, “summoning a demon requires a lot of spiritual power. You didn’t summon him for no reason. Now would you like to introduce yourself, dear?”

Something about Aziraphale was so calming. Yes, the situation was absolutely wild and unbelievable. Y/N was scared because there were two men in her home claiming to be demons. But this man had a presence which helped her relax. It was so overpowering, so magical. “I’m Y/N,” She said surprisingly calmly. The closer Aziraphale was, she more relaxed she became.

“Alright, Y/N. It’s nice to meet you. I’m sure we can get to the bottom of this little mishap and then we can all go on about our days,” Aziraphale smiled so cheerfully, as if this situation wasn’t terrifying at all.

Crowley sat on the arm of Y/N’s couch and he crossed his long legs, “Why did you even summon a demon if you’re so scared?”

Someone wasn’t happy to be summoned. Y/N almost felt sorry for ever touching that Ouija board. “I didn’t mean to! I just…well, I didn’t think it would work, okay?” She defended herself honestly. “Also, how am I supposed to believe you’re a demon...an angel, whatever. This is crazy!”

“Oh, you want proof?” Crowley smirked, as if she dared him to do something. He suddenly stood up straight again, getting ready to give her a little fright.

On second thoughts, she didn’t want proof. She was terrified enough and even the sheer possibility that they were speaking the truth was absurd. It would confirm to her, a human, that demons and angels existed. That kind of information would surely mess with her head. “No!” Y/N took it back.

“Oh, such a bummer!” Crowley muttered. He was already getting excited over the thought of scaring her by showing her his true form. It’s not like it mattered anymore. She had seen him appear out of thin air so what’s another supernatural experience more on top of that?

Aziraphale felt his stress levels rise as he stood between the two of them. He couldn’t believe they ended up in that situation. But somehow, he was convinced they were supposed to find Y/N. There was a very high energy radiating from her which almost told the angel that she could be useful. As risky as it was, he wanted to be friends with the mortal. Perhaps she could have something to do with the doomsday?

“Can you please just end this and then finish whatever you have to with Aziraphale? I’m tired of this,” Crowley began to get impatient.

“How do I ‘end this’?” Y/N wondered. She truly had no idea.

Crowley hung his head low as he tried to stay calm. Was she for real? “Did you read any instructions whatsoever before you decided to ruin my day?”

Aziraphale almost giggled at the situation. Although it was serious, it was a little bit amusing. But he managed to bite his lips together to stay quiet.

“I read something online,” She admitted. Y/N was oddly calm now. So far, they hadn’t made any indications that they would harm her. Besides, when she passed out, one of them had moved her to her bed. If they wanted to hurt her, surely, they would’ve done that already. So, she concluded that she didn’t have to be as terrified as she was.

“Okay then do whatever you read. I hate being trapped in here,” Crowley admitted. Wow. He couldn’t have been any harsher, now could he?

“Okay, I end this session. Whatever. Is that it?” Y/N mumbled a little awkwardly. Both Crowley and Aziraphale looked at her quietly. Nothing seemed to happen, at least nothing visible to her eyes. Did it work? Y/N didn’t even know what was supposed to happen!

That’s when Crowley cracked a smile, “See? That wasn’t so hard!” It was as if some magical bonds had let go of him and made him ten times less moody. Good for him, Y/N thought.

“Now, how about we discuss how you got him here in the first place?” Aziraphale suggested excitedly. He was naturally curious, so this was all fun and games for the angel. As long as he stayed, Aziraphale stayed. They had a conversation to finish and it didn’t matter if they did that at the bookshop or this Y/N’s apartment.

_____________________________________________

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoyed this. Your feedback would be highly appreciated 💚

#Good Omens #Good Omens fanfiction #Crowley #Aziraphale #Crowley x Reader #Aziraphale x Reader #Crowley x reader x Aziraphale #Good omens reader insert #good omens imagine #crack fic #platonic good omens

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tarithenurse · 5 years ago

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Nightingale - 25

Fandom: Naruto Pairing: Hatake Kakashi &/x Fem!OC Contents: Various tempers but mostly TEH FLUFF!! OMG the fluuuuuff!. A/N: Weekend! Yay! As usual, ASK or REBLOG for tag!

Ch. 25

It was supposed to be an escort-mission. A simple D-level with no obstacles and plenty of time for training along the way which in turn would be good for the kids. Instead, it had turned into a hassle with several violent confrontations better suited for a team of jōnins.

Zabuza. At least no one has to worry about the Demon from Kirigakure. And to top it off: they boys are still fiercely competitive (well, one of them is), but their communication has visibly improved and they are slowly but surely figuring out ways to support – rather than hinder – each other.

"I expect to see you all fully rested tomorrow morning," the jōnin dismisses them.

"Haï! Ready to kick -"

"Naruto!" Already, Sakura is ready to lecture the straw-haired kid.

Following a different route, the sensei makes sure to report a job well done before ambling past the Academy on his way home.

School's in session, and he can see the students bend over their desks or staring, slightly absentmindedly now and then, ahead of them. There. He spots Iruka through the windows. The teacher is pacing back and forth, sometimes pointing to the white scribbles on the blackboard before adding something as he interacts with the kids.

Unplanned, Kakashi's gaze roves the seats, but the person he's looking for is nowhere to be found. Maybe she's self-studying? It would not be surprising. According to the Iruka, Uguisu is familiar with most of the theory pertaining shinobi skill sets, and so she is often granted time to focus on training or on the common subjects like history or mathematics.

It doesn't sit right with him, admittedly, not to know where Uguisu is even if someone else is bound to be watching her. If Kakashi would be honest with himself, he'd have to admit he prefers the idea of the watcher being none other than him...but he pushes the nagging feeling aside before getting that far.

...

Well past suppertime, the jōnin is running out of things to do to distract the busy mind of his. He is also running out of places where he could "accidentally" bump into a certain blue-haired woman. Leaving the roof of the water tower, he considers the option of summoning Pakkun to help. Maybe that's overkill? It probably is.

So he simply wanders aimlessly, his thoughts lost between the past and the future without paying attention to the shift in the surroundings where the buildings of Konoha retreat in the favour of trees.

The road continues one direction but Kakashi's body guides him down a narrower path that winds between the undergrowth and sometimes fights with gnarly roots until the tall oaks and maples give up, revealing a clearing with soft grass and moss with starry flowers.

And a lone figure.

The last warmth from the sun changes the blue hues and lends a shimmer like that of the distant ocean as Kakashi walks over. Her shoulders tense for a second but she must have come to the conclusion that it's no one dangerous because she stays seated with the chin on the knees.

"Should've guessed you'd come here," the jōnin breaks the silence, memories of stolen midnight rendezvous surfacing.

"Hmm."

Something's wrong. "Came here to be alone?"

"Hrmph!" She doesn't even look up at him.

Although Uguisu has been welcomed to Konoha by the Hokage and is doing her best to become a ninja of The Leaf, most shinobi are still reluctant to accept her. Rather than shun the outsider, they keep an eye on her and whisper about her every move. She's never really alone. Turning to the forest, Kakashi announces for whoever is spying on them that he'll take over. A soft rustling in the leaves is the only answer he gets.

"If you want -" shoving his hands deep into the pockets, Kakashi prepares to get any hopes bashed -"I'll leave you alone...but it's generally better to talk about the problems."

Finally, she looks at him. "You're my problem." The man isn’t sure how to respond but is saved the worry as she continues angrily, “I’m stuck here while you run off on who knows what sort of silly quest. Back in a week? Ha! D-rank my ass! And no one tells me anything! Not that you barely travelled two days before you were attacked! Or that the entire mission involved a gang of criminal and missing-nins! NoooOOo!”

“Wait! If no one told you,” Kakashi interrupts the tirade, “how do you know? Did you break int-”

“Don’t! I’m pissed because...because...what’d I be supposed to do if you got yourself killed? Huh?”

Oh. “You’re worried about me.”

Her gaze is trained on anything else but him as a blush spreads. “Don’t change the s-”

Uguisu doesn’t get any further because the jōnin shuts her up with a kiss. Slow and soft, it sends hearts galloping, and he restraints himself and lets her lead the pace even as the woman’s mouth grows more demanding. Hungry.

They’re both breathing hard when he finally breaks the contact with a few millimetres. “I missed you too.”

“This isn’t gonna make me miss you less,” she whispers back.

He smiles through another (shorter) kiss before admitting that it’s the plan. “But I’ll make sure you’re informed if something really does go wrong, okay? I can even ask Pakkun or one of the others to go to you.”

”Pakkun?”

Perhaps it’s irrational. It is. If the worst should happen, then they’d be too far apart for her to be of any assistance and the Hokage would find out eventually, ensuring the right actions be taken and a handful of people be informed. The old leader would know Uguisu is among them now. But she doesn’t trust that yet and how could she?

That’s why Kakashi spills a bit of his blood to summon the entire pack of ninken.

“Uguisu, meet Pakkun, Buru, Urushi, Shiba, Bisuke, Akino, Ūhei, and Guruko. Pack, meet Uguisu.” Noses wriggle to take in the cottony scent of the woman and a few tails even wag though that might be pure instinct. “If I die, go straight to her.”

“Hi,” she waves while ignoring a muted howl supposed to tease the man but her attention is fixed on Shiba.

Yapping curiously, the hounds get the basic information they want from the humans and accept the request. Thank you, guys. Meant to comfort the woman, Kakashi can’t deny the peace it grants him too to know she won’t be forgotten. Maybe, one day they will allow her to summon them.

“Excuse me,” Uguisu is addressing Shiba, bending down to whisper something into his ear that the jōnin can’t hear over the hounds’ panting and scuffling.

The answer is clear, though. “I’m not some pet.”

“My apologies!”

“But I’ll allow it this once...” the mohawked hound concedes and sits down before the woman.

Attempting to still be respectful, she runs her fingers through the coarse hairs gently at first before really digging in, and soon the creature is barely sitting, his tongue lolling out and the tail wagging happily. He doesn’t even attempt to shut the rest of the pack up as they laugh at him and soon their mocking is replaced with ill-disguised pleas for similar treatments. Uguisu happily obliges.

Hrmph. Oh, Kakashi’s thrilled that they’re all getting along, it’s just...

“Okay okay! That’s enough, you can finish the grooming session some other time!” he grumbles, earning little less than jeering howls of laughter from the hounds who seem to have made up their minds.

Soon, though, it’s just the man and woman left.

“Say, ‘Kashi...” she smiles crookedly, “are you...jealous?”

Yes...I might be. “Don’t be silly. They’re -”

His defence crumbles the moment her fingertips dig into the wiry hair and connect with his scalp. It’s like he’s turned to kin-gyoku! Spinelessly, he’s toppled onto his back, barely even able to show any surprise at his head coming to rest on her belly, because it feels amazing when Uguisu is carting her fingers through the white strands, aimlessly attempting to subdue it into anything but unruly spikes.

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notgalaxii · 5 years ago

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Another Another Cinderella Story || Part One || Diavolo x Fem!MC

Hey guys! I'm sorry this one took so long for me to put out, I was so busy this week! I got a job and I just finished my virtual training but I was working on this with every free moment I had!! This will be part 1 most likely out of 3. Thank you all so much for reading and continuing to request amazing ideas such as these!!

Request Prompt: A Cinderella Story with Diavolo and a Fem!MC.

Word Count: 1.9k

“You will not be attending the event, MC. Powerful demons will be swarming the castle and I can’t have my eyes on you at all times,” Lucifer’s words echoed through her head like her footsteps echoed through Purgatory Hall. After Diavolo had extended an invite to MC and all of the demon brothers to go to a masquerade, Lucifer had shut her down. He shut down what would probably be the best night of her life in the devildom. He shut down the mere possibility of her enjoying herself, looking better than she could have ever dreamed of, swaying with a beautiful stranger in her elegant ball gown. He shut down the possibility of her smile illuminating with the light flickering off of the chandeliers. She had stormed off to go find someone else who she knew wouldn’t be going to the dance so that she could vent. MC knew very well that Lucifer was just looking out for her, but she didn’t know whether it was because he cared or because Diavolo would have his head if his exchange student was eaten. Sometimes Beelzelbub would try to reassure her that Lucifer really does care, but is too prideful to admit it.

“MC? Didn’t think you’d stop by here, I half expected you to be in a gown right now,” Solomon’s cocky smile played on his lips as he opened the door.

“Lucifer didn’t let me go,” she brashly elaborated. A glimmer of shock seeped into his eyes before he pulled the door open just enough for her frame to slip through. MC immediately slumped onto the nearest seat once entering.

“What was the noble excuse this time?” Solomon teased as he sat on his bed across from her, “Place your bets now, ladies and gents, does it have to do with Diavolo’s displeasure? Or, would it perhaps be about the tasks Diavolo assigned you?”

“Powerful demons will be swarming the castle and he can’t have me in his sight at all times. Oh, how disappointed Lord Diavolo would be if he finds his precious exchange student eaten by a demon! Lucifer would have to give him extra foot rubs after that, obviously,” MC mocked in her best posh tone, “What about you? Why aren’t you going?”

“Too many demons I made a pact with are there and a few of them can’t stand each other. As much as I would love to see that go down, I would unfortunately be roped into the middle of it,” he sighed deeply.

“Funny, I bet you would’ve absolutely adored causing some chaos at a noble event,” MC snickered as she crossed her legs. She had always known Solomon to be extremely mischievous. Just about every time he had used his powers around her, it was either to just “see what happens,” or to purposely mess with someone. However, there had been a few times where he’s gotten her out of some pretty sticky situations with his magic.

“There’s still a way, of course,” a playful smile reached up to Solomon’s lips, twisting the corners.

“Bingo,” MC chuckled, “I was waiting for you to say something like that.”

“And this way involves you actually being able to go without Lucifer on your tail,” one of his eyebrows quirked in her direction.

“Oh? I’m listening,” she leaned in closer to him as if it would help her pay attention.

“What better mask than an entirely new face?” Solomon inquired.

“You shady bitch, I love you,” a bright smile stretched across her face. Solomon stood up and held his hand out to her for her to grab. When she did, he guided her over to a shelf full of spell books.

“Satan let me borrow this book, there’s a spell in here that will completely change your appearance for the next five hours. This means that when the clock strikes midnight, you’ll be back to your current form,” he elaborated, flipping through the pages of a large, dark green book.

“This is nice and all, but I don’t even have anything to wear-”

“Leave that to me too, I’ve spent enough time with Asmodeus to know how to make someone look good,” Solomon chuckled before putting his finger on a specific passage, “ Here it is, are you ready? I’ve never used this spell before, but I’m sure I can do it.”

MC contemplated her choices for a moment. She knew that if it was Solomon casting the spell, there was almost no way that she could get caught. The only possible way she could think of was not being able to scurry out of the castle before midnight hits. Potential consequences of her actions raced through her head. MC knew better than to defy Lucifer but he was so irritating. There was no doubt in her mind that he’d be livid if he found out.

Yet, what would happen if he didn’t find out? What would happen if she spent the night glissading across the ballroom floor, arm in arm with a handsome or perhaps beautiful stranger? She could have the night of her life, but it all depended on how much attention she paid to the time.

“Do it, Solomon. I’m ready," MC abruptly blurted after a few moments of silence. The next thing she knew, she was being enveloped in a waft of black smoke. It swirled around her vehemently, growing thicker with every ancient word that slipped Solomon's tongue.

Once the smoke began to settle and fade away, MC looked down at her hands. Her skin tone was a few shades darker than usual, her nails resembling long and sharp talons. Trailing up her arms, she saw the wavy lilac hair cascading down her shoulders like a mystical waterfall.

"That turned out better than expected, you look beautiful, MC" a small, cocky smirk creeped its way back up onto Solomon's expression.

"Thank you, is my face any different?" MC quizzed. In place of a reply, he gestured to a mirror near the door. Her face was indeed different. Her eyes sparkled a vibrant and almost intense green, her lips were slightly fuller than previously, her nose a bit smaller. They were the smallest changes but when they were all put together, she was a completely different person.

Without warning, the smoke had returned to swirl around her body yet again, this time leaving her head peeking out. It left a crimson red ball gown to wrap her torso, coming down in a sweetheart neckline to show off her collarbone, the skirt slightly flaring out at her hips. The fabric was light and airy, allowing her to move with ease.

"You gonna turn a pumpkin into a carriage too, fairy godmother?" MC teased.

"No, but we are going to do something with that hair," Solomon scoffed, pulling the hair tie off of her wrist and beginning to take her hair into sections. He parted the top half of her hair up, twisting it into an intricately braided bun. Before letting her look back into the mirror, he pulled out a few strands to dangle in the front.

"Tricks from Asmo?"

"You could say that," he smiled, placing a hand on her lower back, "Alright, get out of here and have fun. Set an alarm on your D.D.D. okay? 23:50 pm, get heading out when it goes off."

MC nodded enthusiastically and thanked him for his support before grabbing a mask he had summoned. It was a bit of a trip to the castle, taking thirty minutes off of the spell. She had only been to Diavolo's castle once before, it was when she made her pact with Asmodeus and Solomon used his magic on her for the first time. Diavolo was quite the character in her eyes, although she hadn't known much about him besides that Lucifer was his little lap dog. He was charming, certainly, and seemed pretty kind for a Demon Prince. She thought it was special how he wished to construct a path between all three realms. After all, that path is what gave her the opportunity to make new friends and learn about new cultures.

The large, elegant piece of architecture was indeed swarming with demons, just as Lucifer had predicted. They were all dressed head to toe in formal attire, a few letting their horns, wings, and tails come out. MC carefully put her mask on and fixed her posture before striding into the house. Not many demons shyed from giving her strange looks. Large, crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, illuminating the faces of all of them, especially one in particular, Asmodeus. Oh no.

“Oh, hello there!~ I haven’t seen your face in the Devildom before, who might you be?” his sweet voice chimed with seductive notes lingering in the air. MC noticed the way his sunset gaze deepened immediately. He was trying to charm her, and she couldn’t let that happen. Asmodeus’ powers never worked on her and he would be devastated if they didn’t work on this random stranger.

“H-hi! I’m sorry to be so abrupt, but I-I need to use the restroom,” MC sputtered out, but it didn’t seem like Asmo was taking no for an answer. She was now locked to him.

“Your voice sounds so familiar. It’s very soothing, you know? Come, doll. I’ll escort you to the restroom,” he coaxed her with a warming smile. Knowing she wouldn’t win the battle of trying to run away from the Avatar of Lust without upsetting him, MC nodded in agreement.

Asmodeus guided her to the restroom and left her off at the door before giving a small wink and fading into the mass. She sighed with relief and walked into the restroom. Taking a glance in the mirror, MC re-evaluated her situation. Now she knew that her voice would still be the same, she wasn’t able to know anyone at this masquerade, and she still resembled a human, she felt like this wasn’t such a good idea. The brother’s most likely wouldn’t protect her if she got in a trifle, now that she lingers on the thought.

A knock on the restroom door broke her thoughts. After sorting herself out, MC did her best to maintain her composure as she walked out. Even more demons were giving her looks this time around, a few of them even mumbling about her as she walked by. Asmodeus probably started to talk about the encounter to some of his “fans,” as he calls them.

Time began to run itself down the drain as MC consumed a few drinks and chatted with the passing strangers that prompted a conversation with her. Asmodeus made his way back to talk to her at one point and even tried to dance with her, but she was still scared of him finding out she couldn’t be charmed so she politely declined.

“I’m a little bit too tipsy, I’m sorry. I wouldn’t want to step all over your toes,” she chuckled. Asmo understood, surprisingly and it wasn’t long before he wandered off to try to charm the next beautiful face he saw walking by. A few moments later, yet another hand tapped MC’s shoulder, beckoning her to turn around. She half expected it to be Asmodeus, but it was instead Barbatos, Diavolo’s poised butler.

“Lord Diavolo has requested for you to be his first dance partner of the night. Please, follow me.”

#obey me shall we date #obey me diavolo #obey me fanfic #obey me fic #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me leviathan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphagor #obey me mammon #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me barbatos #obey me diavolo x reader #diavolo x reader

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baoshan-sanren · 5 years ago

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Prologue? I guess?

to that Madam Lan runs away AU I’m probably never gonna write

The fall had come early that year, and more than one harvest was ruined by frost.

Not many know it yet, but the winter will follow too soon as well, harsh and long, as if intent on exacting punishment. Firewood will run out long before new trees can be cut. Newborn sheep will die in the pens, before their mothers have a chance to surround them with warmth. Rivers, lakes, and wells will freeze, orchards will be destroyed by the heavy snow, thatched roofs will bow and break, and hundreds of people will perish in the icy winter storms.

But all of that has yet to come. The fall might have arrived early, but the streets and markets of Gusu are as crowded as ever, despite the early frost, despite the unforgiving cold.

“Did you hear? Madam Lan has run away!”

“Madam? What Madam?”

“Madam Lan! The wife of Qingheng-Jun!”

The word spreads quickly on the autumn winds, from one mouth to the next, from one ear to the next, each eager to hear the story, and even more eager to repeat it to a neighbor.

“She ran away? How do you know?”

“The Lan Sect has sent out search parties all across Gusu. Dozens of them! Checking all the farms and wagons and travelers, creating ruckus everywhere they go. They will come here next, I reckon, then you will see I was right.”

It must be said that there is something satisfying about the land’s most esteemed cultivators being brought low. Especially the Gusu Lan, the paragons of righteousness, the unflappable, the ever-dignified. No common man would accuse the Gusu Lan of pride that is not deserved, or arrogance so commonly seen in cultivators from the other sects. And yet, when the mighty fall and make fools of themselves, it is hard not to look down, if for no other reason than to see what their face might look like, once it is smeared with mud.

“A search party? For one woman? Ridiculous.”

“Shame, shame. To make such a disturbance. What does Qingheng-Jun mean by shouting about it from the rooftops? Who announces to the world that his wife has run away?”

“What do you know about it? She took the children too. Both of Qingheng-Jun’s sons, stolen away in the middle of the night.”

More than one woman at the market snorts at these words, but none speak their thoughts out loud. Can a woman really steal her own children? And if she does, what does this say about the father? That Qingheng-Jun must have been a cruel one, if a Madam, a wife of a Sect Leader, would run in the night like a thief. To leave a warm home and full larders, silk clothing and fur-lined cloaks, to abandon all connections and family, with two children in tow, just to wander the world like a beggar-- eh, there must have been some heinous event, some grave injury, some unforgivable sin.

The men yell back and forth, shocked and indignant, that such a woman can exist in the world. But by the evening meal, it will just be another anecdote for them, quickly forgotten.

In contrast, more than one woman will light an incense that night, and pray that the winter cold hold off a little longer. Running alone, with a child on each hip, is no easy thing even in the height of summer. They think, she should have come to her senses earlier, when the ground was not frozen, and the crop abundant.

Although not many will voice their true thoughts, they will not forget. When the cruel winter comes, cracking their hands, freezing the breath in their chests, they will think of Madam Lan and her two children. They will remember a woman who turned her back on comfort and riches and status, to give her children a better life, and they will feel a little warmer with that thought alone.

The first year passes, and Madame Lan is not found.

The second year passes, and Madam Lan is not found.

The third year Qingheng-Jun falls ill. For many months the cultivation world does not know if the Gusu Lan Sect Leader will live long enough to continue his search. By the spring the following year, his condition improves, but his spirits do not, forever altered by the loss. He enters seclusion as the first magnolias bloom, and his brother, Lan QiRen, takes the duty of the Sect Leader. Neither Madam Lan, nor her two children, are ever spoken of in Cloud Recesses again, as if by silence, the stain can be washed away.

The leaders of all sects, large and small, shake their heads when the incident is mentioned. What a terrible precedent. What a horrifying event. Who could have guessed, that a wife of a Sect Leader could do such a thing? How could Qingheng-Jun have married such a woman?

There must have been something wrong with her, some affliction of mind, or a disturbance of temper. After all, had she not lived in seclusion herself? The Gusu Lan must be better off with such an influence removed. One should not mourn a diseased branch cut off from the inheritance line, but be grateful that it was removed in time. Heavens can only guess what her children would have grown to be, under such guidance.

They mutter, and shake their heads, and avoid the subject when it strikes too close to home. Their wives, and mothers, and daughters, listen in silence.

In the fifth year, Madam Lan is not found, but something else of importance occurs. The Sect Leader of LanLing Jin, Jin GuangShan, dies in his sleep.

He dies in his sleep, with three prostitutes in the room, and a pillow over his face. He dies in his sleep beating his heels against the bed, lungs struggling for breath, nails clawing at the sheets. It takes him two incense sticks to stop thrashing around, like a dumb chicken with its neck severed, not knowing when it is time to lie down and die.

Madam Jin is understandably distraught. Her only son is eleven years old, not quite ready for the mantle of the Sect Leader. However, there is nothing to be done, but bear the loss the best that they can. After all, she had been a Sect Leader’s wife for many years; who better to guide the child, to lead him by the hand, to offer advice? It is a heavy burden for a woman still in mourning clothes, but Madam Jin shoulders the responsibility, and bravely carries on as she always had.

And if the three prostitutes find their home in the Koi Tower, who is there to raise opposition? One is a decent seamstress, as it happens, and the other two have a good head for numbers. Poor girls, to have lived through such trauma and misfortune. How can they not be forgiven, and offered another chance at a better life?

Madam Jin’s kindness and benevolence truly knows no bounds.

In the sixth year, Madam Lan is not found.

In the seventh year, Madam Lan is not found.

In the eight year, Madam Lan is not found, but a tragedy in two parts occurs in QiShan Wen.

First, Wen RuoHan and both his sons are assassinated in the night. All three are found in their beds, their tongues severed, their chests split open, their ribs pulled out like wings.

Many mutter under their breath when the details become known, naming old curses, debts unpaid, and offenses against the gods. No ordinary assassin would put on such a display. An entire inheritance line snuffed out in one swift blow, in one night, the slaughter so vicious that the hardest men can only speak of it in whispers? And for the assassin to never be discovered?

No, no, it is no assassination, this. It is more likely to be punishment. What could have the three done to deserve such a thing? Something odious to be sure; nothing a common man should know, or ask about.

On the heels of the slaughter comes a plague, mysterious and deadly. Wen RuoHan’s bloodline is the first to feel its effects. His brother, and his brother’s sons, all of his cousins, and all of their sons. Not a single mother, daughter, sister or a wife catches the plague, but the men perish in droves. Each feels perfectly well one day, and is found dead the next morning, their necks swollen and black, their tongues rotten in their heads. Fear sweeps across QiShan, permeating every household.

First the gristly murders, and now this? What had Wen RuoHan done, for the heavens to punish his people in such a way? Are they all to perish for their Sect Leader’s sins?

The best healers from every sect are summoned, but long before any arrive, the plague disappears as swiftly as it had arrived. No one knows what had caused it, or what had stopped it, but soon, the word spreads of the little girl healer from the north of QiShan, whose brother had fallen ill, and been cured by her hands.

Who is this girl? Surely someone blessed by the gods. Otherwise, how can a child stop a plague on her own?

It is not long before her name is on everyone’s lips. Thousands of people descend on the Nightless City, hoping for a glimpse of this blessed creature who had brought the land back from the brink of disaster. Songs are composed in her honor, and stories written of her deeds, each one more fanciful than the last. She is a girl child who had tricked death, who had gambled with demons of misfortune and won, who had crossed into underworld to find her brother’s soul, then carried it back into the land of the living.

Not a year goes by before she is elevated to a goddess among the common folk; the patroness of healers, the mother of the sick and downtrodden, the subject of thousands of prayers.

Who else can sit the Sect Leader’s seat now? How else would dare?

The Wen Sect begs Wen Qing to lead them, and she accepts graciously.

She must be, beyond any doubt, a saint clothed in human flesh.

In the ninth year, Madam Lan is not found.

In the tenth year, her two sons descend from the Immortal Mountain.

#the untamed #cql #mdzs #ficlet #m #i'm never gonna write this thing btw #i just wanted to kill a bunch of people who deserved it #and give the lan siblings a clean slate with no war #so if i do write more #it can be all night-hunts and fluff

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words-in-the-wind · 4 years ago

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Chapter 2 - The One in which Techno and Phil bond over murder

Word Count: 2,735

Previous: Chapter 1

The forest was peaceful, for the moment at least. No harmful beasts had crossed Phil’s path in at least a week, and he was growing steadily more suspicious. Typically he’d find a gathering of gnolls, a group of goblins, a cult of kobolds, something. And yet, his journey through this particular forest was completely calm. Kristen floated next to him, seemingly relaxed, but her eyes were ever watchful. The spirits of Phil’s lantern were bolstered by the quiet, darting in and out to play amongst the leaves and bushes. Suddenly. Sharply. A high pitched scream rent through the air, the sound of sheer terror startling the birds into the air. Phil’s eyes went wide and he darted through the underbrush, strangely graceful despite his large stature and wingspan. Crashing through the last bit of bush, he swings the lantern staff just in time to block the downward slash of a badly damaged sword, swung by a hooded figure, in a dark purple robe that just barely brushed the dirt. The person on the ground, a older human, in his late 70s, Phil would guess, backed away slowly, and Phil stepped forwards to face the cultist properly. So, this was probably why the forest was peaceful of beasts. Some cult had yoinked it for their own needs. Phil planted the lantern bearing staff upright in the ground, shifted his weight lower, and drew a long hunting knife from his belt, readying for combat. The figure attempted a slice with the sword, but Phil slid to the side easily before lunging forward and catching the figure by the throat. The sword dropped from their hand in shock and he pressed the advantage to take the figure to the ground. “Where’s the rest of your little cult, hmm?” He was practically on top of the cultist now, knife to their throat. “Just-just a little ways in. Please don’t kill me!”

“If you’re helpful, I’ll consider letting you go.” “I’m! I’m just one of the townsfolk! They kidnapped me, forced me to help them with their rituals and stuff!” The figure on the ground begins to tremble and he reluctantly lets them up. The cultist brushes off the robes and lowers the hood, revealing a young man, only 20 years old or so. “Jamie?” The old man on the ground croaks out, a hand reaching up. “Huh? Oh! I’m so sorry Mr. O’Clancy, they told me to find you specifically.” “I wouldn’t be surprised, they’re a bunch of knowledge-hoarders, if I’m not mistaken.” The man gestures at the robes that Jamie is wearing?” “Really now? Would you happen to know a bit about this cult?” “I’ve read about it. Its the Cult of Hemora, a demon lord of knowledge. The lord craves it, and grants boons to those who gift him with books or other forms of it. That’s his symbol, there.” The man points to three eyes embroidered on the robe, each making up one side of a triangle. “Thank you, I’ll be going to clear them out. You’ll be fine then, you two?” “Yes, yes. And thank you for going to take care of them. People’ve been going missing for a few weeks now.” Jamie leads the old man off, towards what Phil presumes to be the town. “I sure hope you don’t plan on going in there alone.” Kristen appears again once they’re safely out of earshot, settling back down next to Phil. “Who’m I supposed to call then?” Kristen gave him a side eyed deadpan, she was good at those. “Techno?” Phil groaned, realizing that yes, as usual, his wife was right. “Fine.” He drew out the last bit of the word in frustration, looking around in his pockets for a bit of paper and pen. He finds one. And the ink is a gem like emerald, like the real one Techno had given him before they’d parted again. One of his children -his spirits- darted up eagerly. He chuckled, “You were always fond of Techno, weren’t you.” And gives the paper, now folded into the shape of a swan, to the spirit. It settles in nicely, like they do most of the time, and the swan comes to life, floating away over the treetops. Phil decides to camp nearby, to keep an eye on the cave system the cultists had repurposed and to wait for the response.

-x-

TechnoBlade is, as usual, coated in the blood of his enemies at the moment when the bird-spirit arrives. He waves it off at first, believing it to be just a regular bird or something that had gotten brave. Phil Phil needs help Go to Phil The chorus in his head take a break from the constant chanting of blood, to bring his attention back to the bird. Techno grumbles, but retreats off the battlefield to let the small bit of paper perch on his hand, unfolding it smoothly. The blood covering him slowly disappears, apparently into thin air, as the constant crowd of previous contractors to his patron suck it away, taking power from the life-force within. “So Phil needs help, huh? Guess I know where I’m going now.” Without hesitation, he allows the spirit that had brought the message to perch in his crown, giving it a message to send back, through that weird link they all had with Phil’s spirit wife. “I’ll be there in a few days. Probably.” He goes off to find the general of whatever army he’s been commissioned to fight in this time, handing over a portion of the gold he’d been paid, and leaves. It doesn’t take him long to travel to the location Phil had specified in his letter, being a living map after all. He doesn’t listen to the voices that gently mock the thought Four days after the spirit arrived to Techno, he finds Phil, with his little shelter in the woods. “Techno! It’s good to see you again mate.” Phil’s voice shows the other man is clearly overjoyed to see him, an unfamiliar feeling for Techno. “Phil. Hallo.” “C’mon in. Its not much, but its shelter, I guess.” Phil gestures to the small lean-to that Techno’s just now noticing.  He grunts, ducking into the space. The natural curve of the rock it’s against allows a nice smoke-hole, keeping the air inside the shelter clean. “So, what’s the plan?” “Well, apparently what’s down there is some cult to a knowledge hoarding demon lord called Hemora. So we go down there, fuck shit up, and come out victorious.” Techno cracked a grin, “Just like old times?” “Exactly. We’ll go down in the morning.” “Sounds good to me.” Techno nodded, he’d worked with less before.

-x-

The next morning, some god had decided to pour the entire ocean onto their heads, or so it appeared. Phil grumbled as he peered outside the shelter, the rain pelting down outside. “Fuckin’ hell it’s really coming down out there.” He eyed the raindrops, knowing that it was going to soak him to the bone. Techno grunted from where he was sat, sharpening the edge of a backup knife. “Yea, it doesn’t look fun out there.” “We gotta go though, shouldn’t leave the cultists there for long, who knows what shit they could get up to.” “Yeah, yeah, I’m comin’.” Techno levers himself up, one hand gripping his trident. The entrance of the mineshaft was a few hundred meters away, which felt like far longer in the pouring rain. The moment Techno and Phil ducked under the shelter of the mine, Phil flicked his wrist, casting prestidigitation to dry them off. “Thanks.” Techno still shook himself slightly, out of habit more than anything else. “No problem.” The mine was quite dark, but it took only a moment for their eyes to adjust to the dimmer light. Techno took point, making sure to check for and disarm any traps along the way. There was one, a basic rope across the floor, which would send a log tumbling down at their heads. The rope was stepped over, undisturbed. Voices came from up ahead, distinctly human in nature, although the words were too quiet to make out. Techno lowers himself into a crouch, creeping along the walls until he was just next to the chamber. Phil followed him, wings tucked tight to his back. Techno held up four fingers and signaling that there were four people in the room, guarding another entrance. Phil plants his lantern at the entrance, not wanting the smaller spirits to get hurt in the fray. He nods and as one, the two enter the room, weapons at the ready. Techno is a whirl of motion as his trident slams into one of the left side guards, piercing through the thin leather armor under the cultist robes easily. The man dies with a gurgle, throat pierced by one of the prongs. The other three attempt to shout, but Phil is there with a Zone of Silence, prepared beforehand. The men can scream however loudly they like, but no sound exits the glimmering dome. Phil draws his sword, leaping forward to cut at the cultists on the right. The moment that the blood-red gem on Techno’s starts to glow, it shimmers and shifts into a short sword, much more suited to closer combat. In this time, the second of Phil’s cultists attempt to cast a spell, but is silenced by his sword before it can leave his hand. It’s over within moments, the advantage of surprise their ally. The two look at each other wordlessly, before going through the pockets of their foes. Coin and other trinkets are found, and tucked away into pouches to look at later. They dump the bodies in a corner, covering them with a tarp quickly. It wouldn’t keep someone from finding them for long, but it does hide them from a quick inspection of the room. Phil retrieves his lantern and they continue through the tunnels, which slope downward gently, until they come across a much larger cavern, hollowed out through clear use of magic. The walls are too smooth to be done by human hands, and the place is a perfect dome, the top obscured in shadow. Torches line the walls, casting the entire dome in flickering firelight, and in the center stands someone who appears to be the leader of the cult, dressed in black robes lined in golden thread, the hood pulled up over his head. “Tonight, dearest chosen, we summon the God himself!” Techno’s eyes widened, they had to interfere, and fast. Hemora wasn’t a generous god, not without plentiful sacrifice. The voices in his head rise to a crescendo, wanting a show grand enough to honor the Blood God. And a show the voices would get. He glances at Phil and sees the same steely determination in his eyes. This wouldn’t be an easy fight, not for a long shot, but his weapon’s almost good for another shift and the voices were on his side. Phil steps out first, sniping the leader down with an arrow to the shoulder, before stabbing the lantern deep into the earth and casting Pyrotechnics on the lantern nearest to the cultists. It explodes in a blast of flame, searing bright for a moment in time. The cultists scream, startled at the sudden flash of bright light, and at the sight of their leader fallen onto the altar. Techno sprung forward, stabbing one of the cultists before his blade flashes and changes, lengthening into a bastard sword quickly. His other hand lashes out, catching another with a blast of eldritch energy, sending the figure to the ground in a heap, he doesn’t get up. Phil draws his bow again, an arrow appearing on the string as soon as its drawn back. He stays to the back of the cavern, picking off cultists with quick shots instead of engaging in closer combat. When the cultists finally regather themselves, they attempt to launch a counter attack, focusing on the intimidating red-skinned figure in their midst. Spells shoot toward Techno, but a golden shield springs into a place, and Techno offers up a quick thanks to the voices for the help. They chime back cheerfully, and the fight continues. He loses track of time, the only thing he’s keeping track of is the blood spilled on dirt floor, turning it into mud, and the blood that coats his body, sucked up by the spirits almost as fast as he can spill it. In his haze, he doesn’t even realize the last of the cult has fallen until he’s stood in the middle of a field of bodies, breathing heavily. The leader is still alive, leaning against the altar for support. “Fool!” The man’s reedy voice pierces through the chamber and Techno’s head whips up, red eyes gleaming. “You Fool! The blood you’ve spilled here today gives rise to the all-knowing. Hemora, I beseech you!” The dagger in the leader’s hand comes down, piercing into an eye like gem sitting on the alter like butter. The gem splits straight down the middle with a loud crack and A wave of what can only be described as sheer power rolled over them. Techno grit his teeth, plunging the sword into the dirt in an attempt to stay grounded. The voices quieted, and roared right back when the wave passed, louder than they’d ever been. Suddenly, they went completely silent, as a sickly greenish light shone from the altar. “Who summoned me?” An oily voice emitted from the light, and a figure emerged. Although it was humanoid, it looked fuzzy around the edges, like it didn’t quite fit in the skin. All the hair on the back of Techno’s neck rose, and he was far more alert than before. Techno wasn’t sure what to make of this god or demon or whatever it was, but he’d never heard the voices go silent of their own volition, and that was worrying. “Fuck.” He heard Phil mutter from where the Aarakocra was pressed against the wall, as if the ranger could disappear through sheer will. Fully black eyes fixed themselves on the half-orc’s form, as the most prominent figure in the room. “What have we here, hmm?” The god, Hemora, clearly, saunters forward, and Techno freezes as two fingers are placed under his chin. He’s not too magically inclined, knowing only what his patron imparts, but even he could sense the sheer magic running through the god. The god’s physical form is shorter than Techno’s, but that didn’t make him any less intimidating. “How intriguing. I can tell, you are just full of esoteric knowledge, aren’t you.” The god drawls, tracing a thumb down Techno’s jaw. He bit down on a sarcastic reply, instead starting to think very very hard. Heeeh Anyone listening? Help? He prays, still frozen in place. “Cat got your tongue?” The god hums, a low threatening note that promises nothing good. A low rumble sounds through the chamber and a familiar heat rises behind Techno. He watches as Hemora’s eyes widen, feels the god let go of his chin. Techno shakes himself, just a little, and backs off to watch the confrontation play out. He doesn’t have a death wish, and standing between two gods is not great for his health. He pulls at Phil, gesturing for them both to leave before the two get into an actual fight. The escape couldn’t really be described as stealthy, but given how the air in the cavern was somehow getting hot and cold at the same time, how everything felt strangely heavy, and how a pool of dread was slowly growing behind Techno’s ribs, they were completely undetected. The moment they cleared the mine entrance, a loud crack sounded from inside, and the entrance to the place collapsed. “Well I’m glad we weren’t in there when that came down.” Phil glanced back at the pile of dirt, rock and lumber, before setting off in a direction, “C’mon Techno, we’ve got a town to inform that the cultists are gone.” Techno allowed himself a moment to try and communicate with the voices again, prodding at where that bond normally was active. At his disturbance, the voices roared back in full force, expressing concern and shock at the events. He held back a chuckle, and patted them metaphorically on the head, everything was fine.

Next: Chapter 3

#dream smp #technoblade #philza #dnd au chapter 2 #fanfiction #mcyt #dsmp

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adventuresoftheordinarysort · 5 years ago

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A List of My Fics (By Fandom and Ship)

Hi all! Thought I’d make a list of the fics I’ve written over the years. I’ve done Kingsman, Witcher, and Merlin.

Merlin

Merlin/Arthur

Protect You Anyway

Merlin accidentally reveals his magic to Arthur. It goes about as well as he can expect. Only Arthur is still furious about the lies between them, and refuses to let Merlin back into his role as manservant. So Merlin requests to be made a knight. If Arthur can't trust him to be a friend, at least Merlin can continue to save his life. Their friendship hangs in the balance, and it is unclear whether they are going to come through on the other side stronger than ever, or broken beyond repair.

Across a Dream

Arthur repeals the ban on magic almost as soon as he becomes king, but things don't really change for Merlin. He knows that if Arthur ever found out about the lies, he'd never be forgiven. So he keeps his magic hidden just like he did before. Then to mark the one year anniversary of the repeal, Arthur hosts a ball. Merlin decides to disguise himself, and go to the ball as Emrys to keep an eye out for his friend. The idea is only partly motivated by jealousy.

Merlin/Morgana

Look Out for Her

Merlin makes a different choice. He teaches Morgana himself. It takes them to a little cottage, and for nearly two years the two of them keep Arthur safe. Together.

Witcher

Geralt/Jaskier

All Unwoven

Jaskier cares for Geralt after they are attacked by bandits. Geralt knows he isn't getting the full story of how exactly they escaped, but Jaskier isn't ready to talk about it yet. But when a bard at a tavern sings a song recounting the events, Geralt gets the full story.

Curse is as Good as A Kiss

Jaskier insults a creature he really shouldn't, but thankfully she is amused by it. In return she grants him a rather interesting gift.

What Happens at the Coast

Before the final trial to become Witchers, the entire class of Witchers is allowed to spend two moths away from Kaer Morhen. It gives them a chance to explore the world around them, and gives them one last chance to back out of training. It is Geralt's turn to explore, and he rides to the coast, and he meets someone.

It’s Been Thirty Years

Geralt and Jaskier have been traveling together for almost thirty years. Jaskier has been flirting with him since day one. Geralt is oblivious to it all. It's really rather annoying.

Navy Blue Isn’t a Color

Yennefer and Jaskier get invitations to attend the masquerade wedding of a royal. Unfortunately, Jaskier slept with the bride several years before, and he is worried about her intentions for hiring him as an entertainer. He brings Geralt for protection, but Geralt doesn't quite grasp the concept on anonymity. A joke goes too far, and Geralt's feelings are hurt. Thankfully Jaskier knows how to make it up to him.

Black Sun Princess

Geralt tells the tale of Renfri to Jaskier, and Jaskier does what he does best. He writes a bop.

That’s Not How Kissing It Better Works

A faerie queen has sex with a human. Almost fifty years later Geralt, and Jaskier have sex. This leads to Jaskier learning something rather interesting about his heritage.

Gen

Friends... Sort Of

Geralt leaves Yennefer and Jaskier alone while he goes on a hunt. Sounds like a recipe for disaster, and chances are they'll kill each other. In the end, it is much worse. They become drinking buddies.

Kingsman

Merlin/Eggsy

Unexpected Inheritance

Merlin inherits a large estate in the Scottish Highlands, completely out of the blue. In order to renovate the property he must leave behind London. Doing so, also means he has to leave behind his daughter Abby's nanny. Eggsy gets kicked out when Dean blames him for a deal gone south, and now he needs a new job so he doesn't spend the rest of his life on Jamal's couch.

Harry/Eggsy

By the Sword and Ring

The last thing Eggsy expects upon being chased out of his village, is to wake up in a nomadic village. Soon he finds himself in a world of magic as he trains to be Lord Hart's battle mage. With war brewing on the border, he is drawn inexorably closer to evil itself.

Eggsy/Jamal

We’re Getting Married

Eggsy gets it into his head to make a quick buck by sending out wedding invitations to local millionaires, and billionaires, and selling off the expensive wedding gifts he's given. Jamal agrees to be listed as the husband-to-be on the invitation. All is going according to plan until Harry Hart RSVPs yes. Then Eggsy, and Jamal are left scrambling to pull a wedding out of their asses.

Might Need Glasses

Eggsy gets a job at Kingsman tailors, but can't get passed the point in his training where he needs to thread a needle. Harry suggests he might need glasses. Jamal has a particularly strong reaction.

One Day

Growing up Jamal and Eggsy always said they would move out of the estate and live together. Maybe in a house made of cheese. Eggsy intends to make it happen.

Harry/Merlin

Why a Toad?

Harry and Merlin’s twenty-seventh anniversary is fast approaching. Merlin knows exactly what to get his husband as a gift this year. It just takes a little adventuring to find it.

A Thief at Hand

The enterprising Dean Baker has started butting into Kingsman territory. While it would be fairly easy for the Kingsman to wipe out his network it would be messy and expensive. So they host a peace summit in the hopes of distributing territory enough to keep Baker out of their hair. In the process, a young thief is traded over to Kingsman.

Harry/Merlin/Eggsy

There Go the Lights

Eggsy is home late because of a rain storm sweeping through London. When he gets home, the power goes out. Thankfully he has Harry, and Merlin to keep him warm.

Devil Makes Three (High Seas Pt. 1)

Merlin was betrayed thirty years ago. Now he has finally caught up with the man who betrayed him, and the crew they worked with. When he gets taken prisoner, his world view is challenged by a young man he meets, and things get complicated.

Getting Back what was Lost (High Seas pt.2)

Merlin has been with the Kingsman Pirates for some time now. His relationship with Harry, and Eggsy is strong. Eggsy wants to give Merlin back a piece of what he lost during his time in the Navy. (You do not need to read part one to understand this part.)

Days of Future Flowers (co-author @anarchycox)

Set sometime in the future, Eggsy's implants and mechanical body parts need upgrades and care that he just can't afford. He does a few shady things and catches the eye of the cops. He runs and eventually hides in a flower shop of all places.

It will be the best mistake of his life.

Roxy/Gazelle

Climbing the Social Ladder (Social Season Pt.1)

Lady Roxy is destined to marry Princess Gazelle’s cousin, a dreadfully boring man. Despite this her visit to the kingdom has been quite pleasant. Except for that dreaded heat.

For the Love of a Country

Roxy is ready to take her rightful place on the throne, now that her grandmother is stepping down. The catch? She must marry first, and there's another woman coming for the throne. Can she navigate the political coup, and emerge with her heart intact? (A Princess Diaries 2 AU).

Roxy/Gazelle/Tilde

A Celebration of Marriage (Social Season Pt. 2)

Princess Tilde was once dear friends with Princess Gazelle when they were children. Although they eventually drifted apart, Tilde can't turn down an invitation to the upcoming wedding of her dear friend Lady Roxy and her old friend Princess Gazelle. However, Gazelle's 'traditional celebration' the night before the wedding is more than Tilde bargained for.

Tequila/Eggsy

A Time-Like Curve

When Eggsy is little he sees a painting in a gallery that looks oddly like someone he knows. When he grows up he learns about Kingsman. An agency of time travelers intent on keeping history from being destroyed.

Eggsy’s First Rodeo

Roxy drunkenly participates in the office's holiday party raffle. Her prize? An all expenses paid trip to a Kentucky Rodeo. She drags Eggsy with her, and as he finds out; Tequila does more than get you drunk.

Merlin/Roxy

The Fire of Winter Nights (ao-author @anarchycox)

English lady Roxy finds herself kidnapped and sold but the people who buy her are very different than the ones who took her. With the new people she finds friendship, hope, and maybe romance with the Chieftain Merlin.

Merlin is very enamoured of Roxy, but he has promised to return her to England come the spring. But each day he knows that it will be harder to let go.

Harry and Eggsy are so desperately in love with each other, and neither says anything sure the feelings aren't mutual.

It is going to be a long winter.

Roxy/Tilde/Eggsy

Tiny Dancer

Eggsy has been out of the whole dancing scene for a while and has very little intention of ever getting back out there. No matter how his friends and mother push him. When Roxy needs a partner for a performance at a charity event, Eggsy finds his good nature leading him back to the stage.

Gen

Bound by Your Word

Roxy runs afoul of a demon-worshipping cult. When she’s caught trying to dismantle the organization, they attempt a summoning ritual. Nothing goes as planned.

#bbc merlin #the witcher #kingsman

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feferipeixes · 5 years ago

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Mizar doesn't exist in heavy Quarantine. Mabel prefers not to get involved, aside from helping children Dipper will bring back. She never makes a name for herself, at least not one associated with Alcor, and the Woodsman wouldn't exist either. Twin Souls wouldn't exist, and many thing like RRR or SYWTBAD would never happen. Dipper is almost always in a 12 year old form, and his alias, Alcor, was something he had come up with while held in the basement, as a way of giving up.

YO GET READY FOR A LONG-ASS POST

Goshhhhh I could so easily see this being the case? Especially if you don’t consider Dipper to ever really make a recovery (like in this post’s version of events). If he’s forever trapped in that “more demon than human” state, if his mind is too broken to make a full recovery, then absolutely.

Mizar doesn’t exist because going with Dipper to enact vigilante justice isn’t really an option. Dipper is too rogue to be good at that kind of thing, and to be honest, in this version, there’s a part of Mabel that screams at her that she can’t trust Dipper not to let her get hurt. It’s not like in main TAU where the two of them knew from the start that they wanted to use Dipper’s newfound magical powers to go around helping people. Here, Mabel gets reunited with a crazed brother who seems to care more about hurting bad guys than helping innocent people, and that makes her very uncomfortable. She’ll help the children he brings back, but to be actually involved with the action is quite a different matter.

And yeah, the non-existence of Mizar has quite a ripple effect on the rest of Dipper’s future. Twin Souls wouldn’t exist because why would it – Alcor’s never been seen with a mysterious female companion. He doesn’t even have the playfulness he exhibits a lot at summons in main TAU, when he decides to mess with people by showing up at summons playing a sousaphone or carrying children. There’s much less of a reason for anyone to see anything good in him at all when all he is known for is murderdeath (although as we know from the real world, that doesn’t really stop people from loving those kinds of people…). RRR wouldn’t happen because, even if he ends up owning Mabel’s soul, he wouldn’t necessarily care too much about growing up with it again. Even if he did, I doubt it would go very well. He could end up stuck in a very childlike state even in his facsimile human body. (Orrrr it could even be bigger angst if you look at it from a nature vs nuture viewpoint and say that Dipper Sterling is pretty human, and that once he breaks apart and becomes Alcor again all of that is lost and his family is heartbroken).

There are so many other Mizar arcs too that just wouldn’t happen. He’d have a lot of other ways to entertain himself over the years, especially if he’s more comfortable with letting his demonic nature loose than he is in main TAU. And SYWTBAD wouldn’t happen because he’s just not whimsical in this timeline. He doesn’t think “oh it’d be fun to make a bunch of friends and graduate from school.” He wouldn’t already be friends with Lucy Ann, so no one would’ve been there to dare him to do it anyway. And yeah, the Woodsman wouldn’t exist. Why would he? Willow didn’t survive being born, so there was no one who needed saving in Caney Patch that day. T_T

And finally yesssssss “almost always in his 12 year old form” is suuuuper angsty and I think entirely appropriate, because it represents how he doesn’t feel like an adult. That’s a rather human concept, anyway, adulthood and maturity, and there’s not too much humanity left in him. He’s got the odd flight of empathy for children and Mabel, but he doesn’t truly feel it. If he ever takes on an adult form, it’d be only because he thinks it’ll help him con a summoner better. Naming himself Alcor while his mind is dissolving is also BIG ANGST. It comes at the point at which he knows he’s never getting out of there, when he knows Ford won’t trust him or believe him and even worse when he’s cognizant enough to realize that something’s happening to his mind, it’s deteriorating and he doesn’t know why and he’s scared. He thinks he’s dying, and in a way, he’s right.

—

All that being said, my hc is that Dipper is able to recover in heavy Quarantine. It’s a long and difficult road, but Mabel and Henry and Stan (especially Mabel) are able to regain his trust. They’re able to show him that it’s safe to be a person, that he’s still Dipper underneath it all, and moreover that he can regain all the love and humanity he lost. And in this version of events, I think things turn out very differently.

Mizar and cultbashing look very different here than in main TAU, but I still think they’d happen after a while. There’s just so much injustice in the world and so many cultists trying to do bad things. I hc that Mabel still gets into boxing and working out in this timeline even before she finds Dipper, so it wouldn’t be like she’s entirely unprepared to go cultbashing with him. He definitely wouldn’t want to do it at first but as he gains more access to his empathy again I think it’d be hard for him not to. There’d be a lot of close calls, and sometimes they’d face something that would set Dipper back a lot (a mean cultist with a binding circle that feels just a bit too tight around his neck) and it’d be another long night with him in his 12 year old form rocking back and forth and Mabel comforting him but not hugging him because when he gets like that he can’t stand to feel constricted.

Speaking of his 12 year old form, I really love the idea that he looks like a 12 year old when Mabel finds him. He’s had no template (Mabel) to age himself up with, and moreover he’s had no reason to change how he looks. He’s just trying to get himself out of this prison he’s been trapped in and as time goes on he cares less and less about his appearance. I hc that his demonic puberty coincidentally happens at the same time as his mind starting to deteriorate, and that Ford takes this as a sign that he was right and that this demon’s masquerade is falling. The awesome @diddlydarndoodles drew newly freed heavy Quarantine Dipper as having blackened hands/claws and his forearms having brickwork markings on them, like he’s a little bit into his void form, and I love this. He’s still Dipper, he’s still recognizably Dipper, but he’s so injured that he’s even starting to forget how to maintain his appearance. And it’s so horrifyingly angsty for Mabel to find him this way when she does. How he looks is a representation of his state of mind and it just goes to show both how small he feels and how injured his mind is. So to me, him starting to take on a more adult look as he makes strides in his recovery is massive. It represents him actually being able to feel like an adult, which, for someone as traumatized as him, speaks volumes and I love it so much.

Twin Souls would be different, considering how Alcor, in many early appearances, looks like a child whereas Mizar looks like an adult. I hope and pray that it would be less of a popular thing, if it exists at all, than in main TAU. The Woodsman might exist, because Willow survives in this version, but Dipper isn’t as involved in the triplets’ early lives (because he’s still recovering, still easily overwhelmed, and until he’s recovered enough to go out and about I’d say any time he spends with the triplets is supervised so that both he and them are safe), and because of this, there might be fewer pro-nats trying to take out the Pines family. Thus, the Caney Patch Massacre might not even happen. If it does, the Woodsman might happen (and I’m sure that would be a Huge setback for Dipper because now he’s scared of what he’s done to Henry), or it might not and everyone would just get a taste of how truly frightening and vicious this poor traumatized demon Dipper can be when his family is threatened.

SYWTBAD could still happen, especially because after he recovers, Dipper is pretty sad about all the stuff he wanted to do as a human and not only never got to do, but never even got to watch Mabel do. Lucy Ann might still dare him to go to college as a demonologist, and he might still do it and just be a lot meeker. He could still make friends, but gosh I think the whole scene with him and Elisabeth and Thomas getting kidnapped would go a lot worse. And finally, RRR? That would totally happen and I think it would be beautiful. He’d again be a much meeker child, but he’d finally get to have an upbringing where he feels safe and loved. I want all the happy endings for this sweet, hurt child.

Anyway! Hope you enjoy this HECK TON of HC’s for two different versions of the heavy variant. If you can’t tell, I love Quarantine AU a lot. ✨

#gravity falls #transcendence au #quarantine au #heavy variant #long post #my stuff #anonymous #although i'm pretty sure you're jinx :)#Anonymous

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chaoticneutralwriter · 6 years ago

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The Extent of Happiness

Jimin thinks he’s a perfect demon, given the centuries of work he’s done and now he dare say he makes for a pretty decent temp-guardian too — he even has the papers to prove it. So with a good clean record, he’s well on his way to getting into the good graces of heaven again to pardon his mischief, only he never realized in his long years of living until now that there is one short-coming he had — as both a demon and a guardian.

guardian demon!Jimin x reader

word count: 18.6k (lord)

genre: slow-burn, supernatural, comedy, fluff, romance, a little angst, slice of life

warning: brief talk of some ill-intentions towards another character

Related works: see masterlist under guardian demon! Jimin

A/N: THIS TOOK FOREVERR.... ;_; tfw the chapter is pretty straight forward but didn’t realize the scenes would take so much planning XD Lots of time skips-ish but it at least takes over the course of two days. Hope you enjoy it, thank you so much for all the patience and love once again! 😚😚💖💖

It’s over.

It’s finally over.

You collapse onto your bed, exhausted but victorious in a way. You’ve just finished your last exam, gone in with a fuck-all attitude that made it go by in a blur and now that it’s out of your hands, you’re finally allowed to be numb to it all. The stress of it is over and though you would be elated if you passed with a pretty good grade, you honestly don’t care if you scraped by or even fail one (you’ve done the math, that's how much you've given up). All you want to do now is to sleep for three years….and maybe have a glass of wine, or a whole bottle you’re not sure.

You’ll have to think on that. But right now, you just want to do nothing for a while.

Unfortunately, your body interpreted ‘do nothing’ as straight up passing out. You’re disoriented by the time you wake up, having not realized you fell into a coma-like sleep in the first place. Jaehee’s the one who knocks on your door to come check on you.

“Fam, you good?” She asks, half-jokingly but you can still hear the tinge of worry slipping through her tone.

You only let out a low, half-dying groan, shifting so that your face is not entirely smushed into your mattress.

“I don’t even remember falling asleep….”

If you had turned over more, you would’ve seen Jaehee giving you a wry smile. “Yeah…. You were out cold when I got home and I didn’t have the heart to wake you, but then I got really worried because you were seriously like out.”

That got a snort out of you, however groggy you might feel as your mind takes its time to become more alert.

“But congrats on finishing your last exam today!” Jaehee cheers, coming over to sit at the end of your bed where your body is draped over in a horizontal fashion. “We should celebrate.”

You let out a whining noise of protest because although you do want to go celebrate (read: drink yourself into an oblivion while stuffing your face with the fattiest, greasiest foods you could find), you also really don’t feel like moving yet. Jaehee laughs, patting your head in a very motherly way that has you nearly dozing off again.

“Okay, okay how about we order pizza and we crack open some cold ones over Netflix?”

That gets a short bark of laughter from you and that’s all that Jaehee needs before she’s getting up again to place the order. During that time, you roll around on your bed some more, scroll through your social media for a while before finally mustering up the strength to get up with a stretch. You loudly let out a drawn out groan as your joints pop and your muscles unwind from being in the same position for so long before you stand, grabbing a new set of PJs as you head to the bathroom.

After a refreshing shower that leaves you more awake now and ready to devour some serious carbs, you saunter into the living room where Jaehee is setting up the extra large pizza box on the coffee table. Your mouth instantly waters at the smell of melted cheese, pepperoni, bacon and mushrooms. Beside the box is a case of Somersby cider, the cans still chilled with condensation so when you crack it open to take a sip, it sends a pleasant chill down your throat.

Taking a seat next to Jaehee on the couch, you reach for a slice of pizza and the first bite has you moaning loudly. “Let me stay like this forever.”

Your friend giggles at your overdramatic comment but nevertheless starts scrolling through the Netflix account to find a series to watch.

“Well, you can now that you’re done for the semester.”

“Thank God for that.”

As Jaehee settles on a show, she reaches for her own can of alcohol, bringing it up towards you and you instantly respond by grabbing yours.

“Cheers to finishing that semester.”

You clink cans, grinning as you take a hefty sip, sighing out contently as you already feel your nerves dissipate with the sweet promise of long restful days of sleeping, eating, and lounging.

Yeah right.

It’s like the universe had decided for you that you’ve had your fill of living out your best life as a human sloth and now you need to get back to being a useful member of society. And since you’re always in need for those few extra dollars, it’s no surprise you find yourself taking on more work shifts, no matter how soul draining it all is.

Do it for the money, you tell yourself, just do it for the money.

Besides, you further reason, you need a distraction or you’ll just find yourself perusing your social media threads which would lead to you being caught up in the hype for BTS’ first day of their North American leg of the tour. It’s fast approaching but at this point, you feel like you’ve gone through your stages of grief and had reached the inevitable acceptance — you’re not going to any of the stops and your only hope rests in the four small words at the very bottom of the official touring website.

You cash out the last of the customer standing in line, grateful to have a moment of peace where you can do something other than force a smile on your face and be overly polite and friendly. You walk over to the end of the cash counter where off to the side is a cart full of items that needed to be ticketed for clearance. It’s not the most exciting job, but after spending majority of your shifts on cash and nothing but cash you’re willing to take any job. So with a label gun in hand, you set to work on scanning the items and adjusting the numbers appropriately to make the correct price tags.

You’re halfway through the cart when you feel a sudden chill, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand and automatically you already know who this is. Your gaze whips around, trying to be subtle about it until a voice calls out to you from above.

“Right over here poppet.”

Your eyes land on the shelves behind you and situated at the very top on a sewing machine box, you find Jungkook peering down at you with his signature bunny grin. His mop of brown hair is a little unruly, leaving his front bangs to sweep over his forehead and he’s still dressed like one of the international students at your college — comfy but bougie as hell. Sighing, you continue with the task at hand, pretending he’s not there just so you won’t look crazy on camera.

“Don’t you have better things to do?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” He rebuttals, jumping down gracefully next to you despite those clumpy looking Balenciaga shoes he’s wearing (you swear you could kill someone if you threw it at them hard enough). You roll your eyes, already knowing what he’s insinuating when he says that.

“For the billionth time I’m not going; I thought we had this conversation already.”

“Well you can’t blame me for thinking you’ve got such a weak will.”

That causes you to shoot a glare his way and all he does is raise an eyebrow back at you, almost challengingly. It makes you let out a huff of frustration, going back to slapping the items with their pricing stickers a little too aggressively.

“Then what do you suggest I do? Summon another demon so they could be my doppleganger?”

“What? Oh no, that won’t do. Your soul is bound to Jimin so there’s possibly nothing you could offer in exchange for another demon’s service.” Jungkook brushes off your sarcastic rhetorical as if you had seriously asked. “Although you possibly could ask an incubus in exchange for sex….but I don’t think Jimin would be too happy with that…”

Jungkook successfully makes you blush at his offhanded comment, mind reeling and going off in places that they most definitely shouldn’t be going. You have to shake your head to rid of those thoughts, but that doesn’t stop your cheeks from burning still. Forcefully, you think about puppies and kittens and BT— No, no, the one time to not think of them.

Your hand pauses briefly and you turn to pin the brunette sitting on the counter beside you a hard stare. He’s lost in thought, actually considering all the ways that can possibly help you play hooky with your job. You’re a slight bit touched that he seems to care so much but at the same time, you think this is all completely unnecessary. Finally, after a few more minutes of pondering, he sighs out in a defeated manner.

“The only other option I can think of is finding a witch to clone you. But I heard their methods are highly unstable, usually a fifty-fifty chance in death or your clone going on a rampage to actually steal your identity so I don’t know if you’d be down with those odds.” Turning to you, he nods in serious affirmation. “I think the sex demon is your best bet, even if it’ll make Jimin a little mad.”

You choke on the air you harshly inhale, hand coming up to try and smother your coughing fit. By the time you’re able to breathe again without losing a lung, you have tears in your eyes from the exertion but that doesn’t stop you from throwing a narrowed eyed glare at Jungkook who’s watching on with an obviously amused smile.

“I am not doing that.” You wheeze.

“Why not? If it’s because of Jimin, then I’ll handle him for you.”

“No Jungkook, it’s not— “ You pause to kiss your teeth, agitated. “I’m not that desperate. Besides, I’ve already put my money on them adding additional dates after their first leg is over.”

It’s true, you’re not about to resort to shadier means to get what you want; point proven when you turned down even Jimin when he offered (and his method had way less strings attached than the one Jungkook is suggesting). Furthermore, what logic would that be if you refuse help from your own guardian demon only to turn around and accept help from someone else, much less another demon? He’s insufferable, the bane of your existence at times sure, but you can never imagine doing something like that to him, especially after all he’s done. The very suggestion makes your stomach churn unpleasantly — he doesn’t deserve that.

The young demon doesn’t say anything afterwards, just quietly stares at you in utter disbelief for what you think is an uncomfortably long amount of time before —

“You seriously would rather subject yourself to this capitalist slavery than take the chance of getting good demon di—“

The package you’re holding goes flying out of your hand before you can think about it (you think it’s a Disney Princess pink foam crown from the kids section). Jungkook narrowly dodges it with a swift lean of his head, impeccably wide eyes indicating that even he was caught off guard from your sudden display of speed. The item merely smacks against the edge of the computer monitor of the register, lightweight enough that you didn’t need to worry about getting fired for property damage but it didn’t go unnoticed by your manager on duty as not even a minute passes before your headset crackles with her concerned voice.

“Woah what happened there, Y/N? You okay?”

You fumble with your mic, face a raging inferno as you press down on the button to laugh nervously into. “Y-Yeah, no I just saw a spider and it freaked me out. That’s all!”

You get a laugh in return, “Oh yikes. Okay, understandable. Carry on!”

Jungkook’s snickering brings your attention back to him and you could only petulantly glare at him. Luckily, you didn’t have to continue bickering uselessly with him as over his shoulder, you see a few customers begin to stream into the queue line. With one last pointed look, you mutter quickly through gritted teeth.

“I am not going to the concert and I don’t need any of your scheming ways to make it happen otherwise.”

You see him roll his eyes before swiftly, you turn on your heels and scurry back over to your designated register to wave down the approaching customer to ring them up.

It’s just past three o’clock and noticeably the cafe starts to pick up with an influx of patrons. Evidently, being situated near the downtown area didn’t help either as every which street, the establishment is surrounded by towering office buildings. Whether it be just a single elevator trip down or just a walk across the street, everyone flocked to this cafe to get their caffeine fix or a quick bite to eat. The place drew in all sorts of people, which made for a very interesting place to people watch.

Now normally, Jimin wouldn’t be out so early in the day, preferring to wander the streets at night. That’s when all the greatest likes of people come out — well, ‘great’ in demon standards; the perfect hunting ground to secure more poor souls doomed to hell with all their scheming, ill-intent, self-destructive ways.

But, he thinks, a slow smile barely contained behind the rim of his coffee cup, it doesn’t take much to spot a potential victim, even with the rose-tinted glasses of daylight on. All you had to do was stop and look.

His dark eyes lock onto the figure seated in the far corner of the cafe, hunched over the laptop in front of her. From his vantage point, he could make out her features clearly — long dark hair falling in loose curls around her shoulders, framing a heart-shaped face, straight nose, full lips with a dainty cupid’s bow, and porcelain skin all make up this young face. She looked to be mid-twenties if Jimin had to guess and by the way she dressed so casually amongst the sea of business suits and blazers suggests she might possibly be a student or someone who just got out of school. At first glance, this girl was like any other face in the crowd — unassuming and made an effort to sticking to themselves, just like everybody else in this cafe.

Except Jimin can spot something shady going on a mile away, and this one was only a few tables.

Now as to exactly what, he’ll have to get a closer look to find out. So with one last sip from his cup, he uncrosses his legs and gets up to make his way over to the young lady’s table. He approaches with just a few long strides and though it takes her a moment to notice his presence, she still had to do a double take once her wide eyes landed on his face. It makes him smile, eyes creasing and when he sees her face flush pink, he knows he’s got her.

“I’m sorry,” Jimin starts, coming off bashful as he brings a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. “This might seem really creepy but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around this cafe before and I’m a regular here.”

The girl barely recovers from her flustered state, shaky hands also coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She’s having a hard time maintaining eye contact with him and it only goads him on further, keeping his eyes on her and the ever sweet smile still present in an almost purposefully teasing way.

“O-Oh, uh, um yeah. I usually like to hang out in this other place but, I had errands to do around here so I just stopped here for a bit….” Her voice wavers with nerves but she clears her throat, taking a deep breath to steady herself.

“Ah, I see.” Jimin replies, feigning interest as he idly runs a hand through his new ash brown hair. “I’m glad you did, it’s a really nice place to come by — amazing coffee and in-house pastry. Have you tried them?”

The small talk continues with Jimin effortlessly getting her to let her guard down more and more until after an empty pastry plate and a latte later, he’s managed to settle himself comfortably in the seat in front of her sharing chuckles and names (Kim), her laptop long forgotten. Here, Jimin can really take in the details of her person; the Chanel t-shirt peeking out from underneath her windbreaker that’s definitely not a knockoff, the Cartier necklace with it’s dainty charm sitting at the base of her throat, the Hermes bangle that gives off a lustrous shine whenever she brings her slender hand up to cover her mouth as she laughs along with the rose gold diamond Rolex watch.

Either she’s got a nice honest paying job, or she’s getting her funds by….other means.

“That’s a really nice watch you have there; Rolex?” Jimin asks, smoothly taking Kim’s hand into his to inspect the watch clasped onto her wrist. He pretends to admire it, completely ignoring the way she blushes.

“Yeah, got it not too long ago.”

“Lovely taste.” He lets go, making sure to linger in his touch. Kim appreciates the gesture, smiling coyly as she slowly takes her hand back. Amidst the chatter of the cafe, a chime followed by a buzz draws the girl’s attention to her phone placed off on the side. Kim takes it into her hand, unlocking before scrolling through it with hasty fingers. She looks up after a few moments later, regret reflecting in her brown irises.

“Hey, I gotta get going. Maybe we could grab coffee again some other time….?”

Jimin hears the way she lets the question hang and it only makes him grin. Regardless, he takes out his phone and Kim eagerly exchanges numbers with him (even sending him a text to make sure it goes through correctly). Once she’s satisfied, she packs her laptop into a sleeve and puts on her Gucci crossbody over her shoulder.

“I’ll see you around Julien.” Kim beams, walking off with a noticeable pep in her step. He watches her go with an easy smile and to onlookers, they might’ve pinned him for a poor sap who’s become infatuated by the girl he’s just met in his favourite coffee shop — a plot straight out of a romance novel. Oh, if only they knew; how funny would it be when they realize that this angelic smile hid a demon who’s just found his next prey.

Glancing down at his phone, his eyes read over the name of the poor girl who’s about to have karma bite her in the ass. Kim, he thinks with a dark chuckle, just what kind of dark secret are you hiding behind your own innocent smile?

He’ll look forward to finding out.

“Hey, are you working tomorrow?”

You’re in the break room, pulled out from your reveries (what you actually mean is dissociating) by the small chime of your phone signalling a text message. It’s Jaehee and you take a pause on reading her question to think of your answer, mentally going through your work schedule that you’ve gleaned over earlier today before coming into your shift. You don’t remember much but you do know you are working, just not sure whether it would be a short early shift or a closing one again. You hope that it’s not the latter. The very thought makes you shudder.

“Yeah I am. Why what’s up?” You shoot back and no sooner had the message been sent, you get one in return.

“Uhh? Your birthday….??”

Oh shit really? You think to yourself, shocked. You pull up the calendar on your phone and see that yes, your birthday is indeed tomorrow. The revelation has you dazed for a second, wondering where the time went.

“Oh wow, LOL. I didn’t even realize….”

“Girl…. We need to do something for your birthday!

We could do something like head out for dinner and a couple of drinks.”

“That sounds good, but I can’t remember if I’m closing or not :|

I’ll have to double check to make sure.”

“Okay, either way, let me know what the plan is and we work something out!”

“Yeah, will do :)” 

You say that but honestly, planning something for your birthday was the last thing on your mind. You would even go as far as to say that you don’t really care anymore. It sounds a lot more depressing than it really is because you think that most people reach that point about certain ages don’t they? When all of your friends’ schedules match up only once in a blue moon, too busy with the grind or other commitments that meeting up at all, let alone for someone’s birthday, is good enough.

Ugh.

You unconsciously frown, wanting to shake your thoughts off on the topic by pulling up your social media apps. Out of instincts, your thumb taps onto Twitter and you’re only greeted by your feed being filled up by huge banners and pictures of the BTS tour and how tickets for their next stop will promptly go on sale tomorrow at 3PM.

Wow.

It’s like the universe just said ‘fuck you’ to your face; tickets are going on sale on your birthday and you can’t even go. You must be the most unluckiest fan alive right now. What’s worse is that it’s for the next neighbouring city to you, and theoretically, your last chance to cave in.

No, no, you shake your head. You need to stop doing that — you’ve made your peace with this already, and the wanting feeling just resurfaced because you’ve been smacked in the face with it. You exit out of the app quickly and stand, shoving your mobile into your back pocket as you start to head back out of the break room to continue your shift. You dread every step of the way because today, you’re part of the closing team and with the warming weekend weather, people tend to want to hang out longer.

Which is, much to you and your co-workers chagrin, what ends up happening. You spend the next five to ten precious minutes past closing urging straggler shoppers to get the fuck out in the most politest way so that you could all finally start cleaning. So of course by the time you’re done and with no mischievous demon by the name of Jungkook around this time to cause any excuse to leaving early otherwise, you all get out way past the appointed end shift time.

You hurry to the bus stop after a hasty goodnight, eager to get home. Thankfully, you only wait around five minutes before the bus shows up and you get on, not bothering to take a seat for the short three stop ride even though there were plenty of empty seats for your picking. You can’t deny that you’re a little bit antsy, commuting at night alone always manages to do that for you even when you make it to your stop without any incident.

It’s okay, you think as you hastily make your way down the street, you’re nearly there and it’ll be fine the rest of the way.

You don’t stop to think about the logic of your thought just now because by no means are you anywhere near your house yet, let alone your street. You still had about a block left before you meet —

Oh.

You slow your power walking down to let out a huff of disbelief at yourself. You did not just seriously….

You sigh deeply, too tired to mentally battle it out with yourself about denying the fact that you find Jimin’s routine meet up on your night shifts gave you comfort and security on the trip home — that extra peace of mind. Not saying that you’d be completely crippled if he wasn’t there but… It's nice to have him walking beside you like a shadow that shielded you from any creeps way scarier than any demon you’ve met so far and… he makes the night a lot more enjoyable to be in.

Holy shit, you must be tired as hell because you did not just think that into existence. Your cheeks are heating up on their own and you had to give yourself a light smack to dispel any further thoughts of that nature from developing. At least there was one saving grace about it all; no one was around to witness any of this.

With that, you focus back on trucking along, heart hammering from your exertion or your anticipation, you’re not quite sure. Either way, your pace picks up when you see the beginnings of your street corner come into view. Usually, Jimin would be there just before you make the turn and from there, you’d both walk back the rest of the way, past the convenience store with the dumpster and flickering street light.

So when you round the corner —

Your feet falter, finding no one.

You slow until you stop completely, more concentrated on trying to spot his familiar lean figure that’s always dressed to the nines but somehow always look effortless but after double checking (triple checking, in case your eyes are really that bad) you find no one; not a single soul.

A weight suddenly drops into the pit of your stomach and for a moment, you’re at a loss of what to do. Should you wait around to see if he shows up with the off chance that he's late today? Or should you just power on through? Your gaze shifts to the street ahead of you and it’s like the darkness and the scattering of lights elongate to an endless pathway leading into an inky abyss. You lick your lips that had gone dry, taking in a shaky breath in an attempts to gather yourself but with one glance around your surroundings, you decide firmly that there was no way you were gonna hang around here longer than you need to, not when you know how notorious the store corner could get with its less-than-savoury visitors. You feel a bubble of irritation begin to swell inside you but you crush it in favour of wanting to get home as fast as you can.

So with a swallow, you take off in a power walk, shoulders hunched and legs burning with the strain you put with how quick of a pace you’ve set for yourself. Your hammering heart only accelerates once you come upon the twenty-four hour convenience store, the same one you got harassed by before Jimin showed up in the nick of time. The grip you have on your bag strap tightens as with a quick flit of your eyes, you find that the corner with the dumpster just behind the store is not occupied for once by anyone, at least from what you can see. You don’t bother to confirm if it’s true or not, taking full advantage of this bit of luck as you practically barrel past it, almost breaking out into a run just to get by. Once you do, you race the rest of the way up your front door steps and with a few fumbles of the keys in shaky, adrenaline-filled hands you fall through the doorway, the breath you didn’t realize you were holding comes out in one big whoosh.

You take a moment to stand there, breathing in deeply to calm yourself before eventually, move away from your threshold, locking the door and slipping off your shoes. Trudging to your bedroom, you don’t bother to flick the lights on as you blindly move about to grab your pyjamas, flinging your bag and heading to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

You hit the bed with a thump, thankful to be in its warm sheets but still feeling slightly miffed, mind racing to try and come up with some logical reason as to why Jimin wasn’t there tonight. You toss and turn for a bit but then come to a screeching halt halfway through it; he never explicitly said he would walk you home whenever you had a night shift, he sort of…started doing it on his own and you just never questioned it. Then somewhere along the way, you assumed it became an unspoken promise between you two — something that didn’t need an explanation and something that you grew to look forward to so to have it come to an abrupt stop…

You sigh out, flipping to your side and curling up on yourself, feeling ridiculous and still very much restless; guess you’re not going to sleep tonight and you hate how it’s because of how fixated you are on your guardian demon. Since when did you become someone who got so hung up on stupid small things like this? He’s his own being, a demon who roams the night freely and without fear doing what he does best; get people to make stupid decisions.

But he could’ve at least sent you a text.

You actually grab your own mobile, the light blinding you for a second as you pull up his message thread. The last text you sent each other was during your house viewing with Jaehee. Confronted with the option now, your fingers itch to send off a passive-aggressive text to him, letting him know that you made it home safely without his help thanks for asking—

You blink and suddenly the message is typed out in the box, ready for you to hit send. It takes you a second to register what you had done and it makes you backspace immediately in horror. No, you won’t be like this, can’t be like this, because does it even make sense for you to?

You grab the calico plushie with more strength than you mean to and smash your face against its soft body to drown a groan and the sinking feeling in your chest. That’s it, you’re stopping right there and you are going to sleep and forget about this all because if you don’t you’ll just give yourself a headache and lose out on sleep needlessly. You fling your phone to the ends of your bed for good measures.

Who cares about Jimin, you certainly don’t.

The girl in front of him throws her head back to laugh, hand covering her mouth to retain some modesty and keep up her appearances as being a ‘proper lady’. He doesn’t entirely care in that, nor the high spun tale he’s conjured up that caused her to laugh; it’s all pretences to him. Still, he plays his part, smiling behind the rim of his whiskey glass as he watches her with twinkling eyes full of mischief until she calms down, fanning herself lightly.

“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe that happened to you — on your first trip to Bali too.”

Jimin could only offer her a bemused shrug, placing his glass down on the table to cross his legs. “Guess that’s what you call life huh?”

Kim giggles, taking a sip of her own drink as well too before reclining back into the plush black leather booth seat. When she had suggested that they grab coffee again some time, this wasn’t exactly the first thing that Jimin had in mind. Though to be fair, he should’ve figured with the text she sent him, asking if he was free two days later from their initial meeting to come out at a time that’s way too late to be having coffee and at an establishment he swears didn’t exactly serve coffee. A ritzy place, dimly lit by warm lights from the crystal chandeliers hanging above each round table with a colour scheme of black, white and dark cherry wood. Not exactly a place your average Joe would pick for a date, not unless he wanted his wallet to bleed dry but luckily neither of them need to bother looking at the menu in the first place.

She makes show of that by refilling her glass of expensive wine, not caring how her dulled senses manhandles the bottle slightly, putting it down with a little too much added force. It makes her giggle sheepishly, ducking her head because the noise seems to rattle the entirety of the upscale bar, the soft jazz music no way helping to mask it. Jimin chortles and Kim flushes pinker than she already is under her foundation.

“So,” Jimin starts coolly, “How about yourself? Got any juicy stories you wanna share?”

Kim places her glass after sip down gently this time, licking her painted lips that had the slightest tinge of the darker berry colour to them now. She tilts her head to ponder, pouting but then smiles with a shrug.

“I don’t think any of mine would top yours to be honest.”

“Oh really? Nothing at all?”

“I’m positive.” She laughs, “I feel like all I do on trips is lay around, sun bathe, and eat and drink expensive wine.”

Jimin nods in understanding, reaching out to take a swig of his whiskey again. Throughout the night, he and Kim had talked about things that one typical does during a ‘date’ — work, hobbies, friends, families, the likes. Very mundane and nothing to be too concerned about, only what Kim doesn’t know is that the more she talks about herself, the more Jimin is beginning to get a good idea as to what sort of secret life she’s hiding. From what he gathered, she’s a recent college graduate majoring in marketing, lived alone in an apartment, and worked for a company that was getting their big break-through in expanding.

Doesn’t seem at all suspicious but considering the state of the economy, either Kim is one lucky girl or she’s obviously getting her funds somewhere else. No student straight out of college would be able to afford the luxury items Kim seems to so whole-heartedly indulge in, even with a decent paying job. Perhaps a sugar daddy? No, she’s out here seeing him isn’t she? A wealthy family then who funds everything for her?

There are still pieces missing to this puzzle and Jimin needs to find out more. Unfortunately for him, Kim downs the rest of her wine with a sense of finality and he already knows before she opens her mouth that she was planning on calling it a night.

“I think I’m done with my fill of merlot. Any more and I feel like you would have to carry me out and that’s not exactly how I want to end my night with you.”

“I wouldn’t mind.” Jimin grins wolfishly and that causes a bout of giggles to bubble from Kim’s lips. As she’s distracted, Jimin waves down the waiter to pay the bill, swiping his card and signing off the receipt before getting up from his seat. He waits patiently as Kim gathers her things but as she gets up, she tips a little too heavily to one side that Jimin had to steady her by the shoulder. The brunette laughs breathlessly, leaning into him as Jimin smiles while guiding her out of the upscale bar with a hand on the small of her back.

The night is a lot warmer compared to the last few, but of course that doesn’t stop Kim from clinging to Jimin’s arms like there was a biting breeze nipping at her skin, heeled footsteps echoing loudly against the asphalt. She also takes the liberty to direct him to round the side of the building where a small space reserved for parking was. Jimin’s quick to catch on as he glances down at Kim’s still flushed and smiley face with a quirked eyebrow.

“Do you intend to drive home like this?”

Immediately, she whips her glazed eyes upwards, widened in shock and pouts petulantly at him, seemingly offended by his assumptions. “Julien! I’m not that stupid. I just wanna make sure I didn’t leave anything important in there before I call an Uber.”

Jimin chuckles good-heartedly, bringing up a hand in a placating manner. “Sorry, sorry. People tend to be a poor of judge under the influence but it’s good to see that you’re one of the smarter ones.”

Unfortunately.

It would be so easy for Jimin to just whisper into her ear and convince her that she’s totally fine to drive home. Then, all he had to do was watch her drive off and not even a block down, she’d run a red light, get T-boned and he can dust his hands off with another job well done. The idea is tantalizing but no, he’s long since been tired of a successful hunt that lacked any thrill. Which is why when they both reach Kim’s car (a sleek black BMW M5), Jimin turns to her with a well-placed charming smile.

“How about I make it up to you on that last comment? I’ll drive you home.”

Kim pauses mid-push of unlocking her car, throwing a rather dubious look over her shoulder at him. Jimin holds his ground, steadfast in keeping up the non-threatening facade, posture relaxed even as she turns to face him squarely, leaning back heavily against her ride with an impressive piercing gaze. He senses the cogs in her head working, no doubt weighing the pros and cons of accepting his offer. Before he could let the doubts fester, Jimin speaks, voice lilting with an irresistibly smooth velvet finish.

“If it makes you uncomfortable, you don’t have to say yes. I just wanted to make sure you got home safe is all.”

His eyes flare a deep crimson so quickly that to Kim’s slightly muddled mind, it appeared to only be the trick of the light. Jimin sees the effects of his words take hold of her, and after a few minutes, Kim loses the tenseness of her shoulders, looking at him in a new light.

“I mean, if it won’t be too much trouble for you…”

And like that, she’s entangled herself more into his spider’s web. Jimin smiles, eyes creasing up in a very pleased way. It makes Kim smile in return for all the wrong reasons as she her keys off to him. He strides towards her, taking it from her grasp before unlocking the doors and opening the passenger one for her. She ducks into her seat and Jimin shuts it firmly once she’s settled in before rounding around the car to get into the driver’s seat.

As expected, the interior of the car was black, crisp leather interlaid with dark burgundy polished wood for the dashboard and for a second, he could pick up the faintest whiff of the new car smell still lingering around. The smile widens on Jimin’s lips as he glances over at the owner who’s buckling in her seatbelt. She feels his eyes on her and when she turns, she grins coquettishly.

“What?”

“It’s a very nice car.”

Kim preens at the compliment, leaning over to whisper, “I know.”

It makes Jimin chuckle, adjusting his seat and the steering wheel before fastening his own seatbelt. Once he’s comfortable, he hits the start-push button and the car hums to life.

The drive to Kim’s place was filled with more small talk about the passing neighbourhoods and other fancy eating places she hints at for potential future ‘dates’ — none of which interests Jimin. What does however, is the directions she’s giving him albeit in her now drunken sleepy state. She leads him out of the upscale part of the city where all the new high-rises and penthouse suite condos were gathered in favour of an older looking neighbourhood. The apartment buildings begin to look visibly aged, the colour scheme falling into the more rustic ash brown and not as lustrous or modern as the others they had just passed. It reminds him of where you live; modest, not-as-flashy but still well kept neighbourhood. They’re still in way better shape than some of the neighbourhoods Jimin has seen that’s for sure but in this case, it was not a place Jimin had pictured a someone like Kim who seems to live and breathe luxury to be living in.

But Kim only confirms her residencies here when she directs Jimin to an underground parking garage that was connected to one of these bricked apartment buildings. He can’t help quirking an eyebrow at her as he pulls up to the yellow plastic gate right next to the security speaker box.

“We’re at the right place right?” The teasing overtone of his question hides the backhandedness of it (but he thinks Kim wouldn’t notice anyways, given her state).

“Hm?” Kim turns from staring out her window, dazed for a moment at his remark before she seems to realize where she is. She flushes pink, clearly flustered as she stutters. “O-Oh! It’s just temporary….I’m actually moving soon.”

Jimin hums noncommittally, rolling down the window in order to speak to the building security to let them through the gate with Kim telling him that all he needs to say is that he’s a visitor, her full name and floor she’s living on. It works because the yellow gate lifts and he’s allowed to drive the rest of the way in, entering the garage as it opens and after more instructions, finds her designated parking spot. Jimin parks the car, shutting the engine off as he unfastens himself to exit, making quick work of rounding to Kim’s side to open her door. He even offers her his hand.

She smiles at the gesture, gladly taking it to haul herself up and out of her seat.

“And here I thought chivalry was dead.”

Jimin shrugs, “Guess I’m pretty old-fashioned.”

Kim tilts back with a bubbly laugh, swaying too much to where Jimin had to hold her hand a little more firmly to keep her from tipping back and falling over. In doing so though, Kim laces her fingers through his and brings herself closer, pressing up against his chest and forcing him to tilt his head down in order to look her in the face.

“I had a really great time tonight Julien.” Her voice rasps, the proximity lets her lips brush slightly against his own whenever she speaks. “And thank you so much for driving me home when you didn’t have to….”

Ah, here it comes.

“Is there anything I can do? Get you an Uber or maybe….?”

Jimin can’t stifle the smirk that creeps up on his lips, amusement dancing in his dark eyes as he slowly turns the tables on Kim. He brings up their joined hands, only to release himself from her grip to press her back against her car, letting his freed hand cage her instead. She doesn’t resist, so pliant under Jimin’s manipulation that he swears she’s enjoying the attention she’s getting from him. Does she think that she’s got him right where she wanted?

Cute….but not quite.

No, right now, Jimin’s motives are far from aligning with Kim’s despite her thinking otherwise. His plan is simple; get her to invite him up to her apartment, maybe let her have her way for a bit before he puts her out, snoop around to his heart’s content and when he’s found what he needs, disappear like a shadow in the night and let a demon’s karma do its part.

So he takes the bait.

“I think that whiskey is starting to get into my head a little….”

And that’s all Kim needs.

In a fitting whirlwind romance (Jimin uses that term very ironically), the steps of his plans were enacted and Kim is out like a light before she could even finish unbuttoning his shirt — using pressure points is one way to spice things up in the bedroom he supposes. A lot of other demons would give Jimin flak for not indulging in some added bonus fun while on a ‘hunt’ but he’s a demon of taste, and there’s something else hot and steamy that he’s after.

With Kim knocked out into a deep sleep, it makes for rifling through her stuff easy as pie. In the darkness of her room, he spies numerous amounts of name brand clothing strewn about on her dresser and floor. On the handle of her door and even by the foot of her bed, there were bags of different sizes, shapes and colour. Everything seems so disorganized and just thrown about that Jimin thinks the only clean space is her queen size bed and to a certain degree, vanity table which is where he heads towards as he spots her MacBook. It sits asleep on the counter surrounded by various bottles of perfume and lipsticks, organized by colour and brand.

He wastes no time opening the laptop, bypassing her password with ease, immediately diving into the most recent folders. It doesn’t take long for Jimin to start finding some….interesting things. First off was a folder, simply named ‘E-Pics’ that was dedicated to, of all things, concert e-tickets. There were around five of them, all from two shows that had played recently in the city. Jimin doesn’t recognize the names of the artist but he thinks it’s rather strange for someone to have saved pictures of e-tickets when there’s an app for that. Was Kim a secretly sentimental type of person….?

Highly unlikely, Jimin thinks so he continues digging, clicking away until….

A slow smile hooks at the corner of his mouth as his eyes scan over these newly discovered files. At a glance, they look exactly like the tickets in the previous folder but when Jimin fiddles around with the image a bit more, he spots the alterations in them, hidden in plain sight.

Forgery, and good enough that Jimin’s mildly impressed. If they had a course in college for that, he would’ve believed Kim would graduate at the top of her class.

This new information sends a newfound thrum of giddiness running through him and he wonders gleefully what other incriminating things Kim is hiding in other places. Perhaps her phone? Without a second thought, he closes the laptop and then heads out of her room.

He slinks out into Kim’s open space apartment with soundless footsteps. It’s on the small side and not much goes into these spaces other than her bedroom. There was an attempt though, hints of times Jimin could imagine the young woman would spontaneously have in trying to decorate her home from the colour coordinated throw cushions. It’s like she tried to go for a colour scheme but then quickly realized that she’d rather invest in her money in name brand handbags and shoes.

He picks one of them up on the couch; her clutch from tonight tossed aside carelessly in favour of trying to ravish him as soon as they made it through the doorway. Pretty thing, but the worth of the clutch doesn’t interest him so much as what’s inside it and reaching in, he easily pulls out her mobile phone. It lights up as soon as he hits the home button but when he goes to bypass her lock, he hesitates.

Blaring in his face is the time — 2:43AM.

Was it really that late already? The phone lays momentarily forgotten in his hand as he wonders how he hadn’t noticed the time flying by so fast. Unconsciously, he furrows his brows as another thought crosses his mind.

You should be home by now….right? Wait, you had a closing shift today didn’t you?

Shit.

Jimin reaches a hand into his pocket to pull out his own phone, bringing up your message thread to not find a single peep from you since your open house visit with Jaehee. Of course you wouldn’t, he knows you — stubborn as a mule and he swears if you had gotten stabbed, you would convince yourself that it’s not that serious only because you wouldn’t want to trouble anyone.

….Shit.

His hand travels to linger over his chest as if it had a mind of its own as his becomes completely lost in thought. Jimin didn’t feel any disturbances or distress that usually comes when your emotions flare, so it should mean that you were okay. But what are the possibilities that you simply didn’t have the time to react, too caught off guard to call out to him if you needed help?

Jimin exhales heavily through his nose in frustration, a hand combing through his hair as he glances down at Kim’s phone to see a few more minutes have passed and that now he had a choice to make; continue his search here for more information to blackmail Kim or abandon that possibility altogether. Fingers tap idly as the demon weighs his options and the more he stares at the phone, the more his mind screams at him to take just one peek, she’s fine.

….

Damn it.

He shoves Kim’s phone and all it’s garish pink glittery case glory back into her clutch before flinging it back onto the couch as if it were a dollar store pencil case. With long strides, he heads to the door but instead of going through it, he feels the familiar tug of apparating to another location and he finds himself at the head of your street. It’s relatively quiet when his senses readjust to his surroundings, the only sounds he picks up are the faint chirps of crickets and the occasional passing of a car way down at the other end of the road. He doesn’t see you nor anyone for that matter and he’s not sure whether that’s a good sign or a bad one. Still, he holds out on the belief that you’ve made it home all right.

So methodically, Jimin stalks forward, dark eyes narrowed to scan even the darkest corners for anything that might seem amiss, things that ordinary human beings don’t see. When he doesn’t pick up anything that raises any concerns, he makes another leap in location and this time, he ends up directly in your bedroom. The soft carpeted floor helps muffle his black Chelsea boots as he lands, but his attention immediately goes to your bed and without meaning to, he sighs, a tenseness he wasn’t even aware of dissipating from within him.

He sees the clear outline of your form under the covers, the rhythmic rise and fall of your breathing as you slumber and as he steps closer, almost feels the warmth of your body. The tops of your head just pokes out from where its rests on your pillow, hair spilling over messily but overall, you do not appear hurt. But as he continues to assess you, he notices the way you’ve curled in on yourself in spite of not having any shortage of room on your mattress, making you appear small and clutched to your chest was your beloved plush cat. Its face is squished by how hard you hold it against yourself but nevertheless, its cartoonish cat smile still peeked through its distorted face.

There’s a twinge that erupts in his chest, so sudden that he exhales sharply out of surprise. He reaches a hand up to his chest again, brows furrowed, where his heart beats and wonders in mild disbelief if something was wrong with it. Its never done something like that before, the only thing coming close was when you felt intense fear or anger. But you’re sound asleep, as quiet as a mouse. He stands there for a good minute trying to decipher this anomaly before he huffs, tearing his gaze away from you as he runs a hand through his hair frustrated.

Maybe he’d just imagined it, or there’s a glitch with this vessel. Either way, he pushes it to the back of his mind, focusing his attention to your discarded phone at the ends of your bed. He chortles under his breath, shaking his head — what is he going to do with you? Grabbing the phone, he gently places it on your bedside table (where it belongs) and settles himself into your desk chair, eyes sliding shut in a semi-meditative state. He’s lost out on one curiosity for the night, but at least the satisfaction of this one has made up for it.

You wake with an ache in your lower back that leaves you taking an extra fifteen minutes just to get out of bed without groaning or joints cracking. Doesn’t help that your phone goes off incessantly with messages from your friends wishing you a happy birthday. You smile to yourself though, thanking them each and even commenting how you woke up with a sore back, really feeling the aging kick in already.

Eventually, you drag yourself to the bathroom in a half daze and even after washing up you feel like you want to lie back down again, the comforter looks so invitingly warm still. But you resist the urge, knowing well that if you do give in, you’ll not get back up and that’s not something you want to do before going to your shift later on in the day.

What you didn’t know when you stepped into the kitchen is that it was already occupied by a certain demon that you had expected to see last night but didn’t. You visibly jerk at his appearance, taken aback at how casual he looks leaning against the counter, a mug of black coffee resting in his hand as he scrolls through his phone, the natural light of the afternoon sun highlighting the strands of hair falling in messy coordination over his forehead in a newly dyed ashen brown colour. The level of nonchalant coolness that he so effortlessly exudes is infuriating the more you stare at him because it’s so not fair for him to look this good, in fact, the only reason why he’s able to look this good is because he’s wearing another attractive person’s face but what’s really bullshit is that he’s still able to make your heart trip over itself when he’s only just pretending!

“You know you’ll see yourself to an early grave if you wake up already stressed like that darling.”

And the nerve!

You scoff, brushing past him to grab your own mug for a morning (technically afternoon now) tea. You move about to get your teabag, sugar and cream, all the while something starts to fester inside of you, instantly souring whatever good mood you had earlier. It leaves you slowly feeling irritated, restless and its not because of your earlier grievances with the demon. No, you know it’s that old wound you’re trying to stubbornly ignore from last night until the early hours of morning and it seems like now, in the presence of its cause, it's begun to itch again. Doesn’t help that when you glance over at your guardian demon, he’s busy once again with his phone, typing away and just the barest hint of a smile on his face. You scowl before you can help yourself, turning away to angrily sip on your tea in hopes of letting the warm liquid calm you down — it doesn’t. So you resort to placing down your mug, deciding on making peanut butter toast in order to distract yourself, even if you weren’t particularly hungry for it.

“Why so quiet cherub?”

You shoot him a look but brush off your underlying annoyance with an indifferent shrug, going back to opening the fridge to grab bread. “Just tired.” He shifts his weight from one hip to the other when you pull out a slice to pop into the toaster and you fight your hardest to ignore his eyes on you.

“Got home late from your shift…?”

The mention of last night pricks a nerve in you and you nearly throw the bag of bread back into the fridge with an unnecessary amount of force, only holding back by opting to grip the handle of the fridge until your hands are straining instead. You draw in a heaving breath under your nose as you slam the fridge door shut, not trusting yourself in speaking because you won’t be able to keep the seething out of your words. So you choose to hum — a short and clipped sound.

You hear the toaster spring up and you’re bustling about again in order to ignore him. In doing so, you miss the way he’s still watching you and the faint curl of his lips. Oh how tempting you look to tease, his natural instincts threatening to overtake him and he actually gives in to some experimental prodding. Jimin sidles up to your side as you’re scraping generous amounts of peanut butter onto your toast and his proximity catches your attention briefly, eyes flitting to him before they stubbornly fixate back onto your task. He cocks his head at you but you refuse to acknowledge him and it makes his smile creep wider. Then, he decides to lean in, past your comfort zone until you’re hunching your shoulders up, no longer able to keep him bay with how he’s literally breathing down your neck.

“What do you want?” You snap, stepping back to distance yourself. He only gives you a Cheshire grin in return, making you bristle.

“Just say you missed me darling and I’ll make it up to you I promise.” His teasing lilt drifts through the small kitchen and you blanche, screwing the lid of the peanut butter jar violently back on.

“I think you need to get your head out of your ass.” You retort through gritted teeth. He throws his head back to laugh, clearly amused and unfazed by your sour mood. When you swiftly turn on your heels away from him to toss the butter knife into the sink, toast shoved into your mouth, he steps in front of you, almost causing you to bump into him. You glower, a passing thought of wanting to smear the excess peanut butter into his stupidly expensive Saint Laurent t-shirt but he’s caught your hand in his like he’s read your mind.

“Don’t be such a sourpuss cherub, you could’ve called me if you wanted to see me that badly.”

Your cheeks redden traitorously at the suggestion, that infuriating smirk still plastered on his pillowy lips and you have no choice but to tear your toast from your mouth with your free hand to chew on a piece unless you wanted to choke, mumbling incoherently and refusing to make eye contact. As you try to pull your other hand away from him, his grip tightens a fraction to hold you in place but at this point, you’re quickly growing tired of this mental game. You honestly don’t know yourself why you’re choosing to be so petty when Jimin didn’t even violate the contract of keeping you out of harms way because there was no harm to begin with. God, what are you doing….

Your shoulders slump, drained as you deflate and your sudden withdrawal takes even Jimin by surprise.

“It’s fine Jimin; I got home alright so just forget it.” This time, your hand slips away from his easily and he lets you slink by him after depositing the dirtied knife into the sink. Even after you’ve pattered off into your room again, Jimin remains in the kitchen, silently watching you go, that peculiar twinge coming back again.

“Julien?….Julien?”

He blinks, knocked out of his stupor but he recovers so seamlessly that it’s as if he hadn’t been spacing out at all. Jimin turns his gaze back to the girl in front of him then, a benign smile gracing his handsome features.

“Sorry, I just had a thought…. You were saying Kim?”

The pretty brunette giggles breathlessly. “I was just saying how you have an impressive….recovery rate but I feel like I might’ve spoken too soon. Anyways,” She places her coffee cup back down on the saucer, “who am I to talk when I passed out on you last night — again, I’m so sorry about that.”

Subtly, Jimin’s jaw ticks though he conceals it with another smile and a carefully placed hand. “Not at all Kim, though at the time it was worrisome…. Like you just died on me.”

That pulls another bout of giggles from Kim, “Oh, it’ll take more than that. I’ll make it up to you I promise.” She throws in a playful wink to which Jimin accepts in feigned interest.

“I look forward to it.”

The rest of the ‘date’ is too boring for Jimin to recall as he spends most of his time drowning Kim’s ramblings and more focused on how he’s going to get her drunk again so he could rifle through her phone, get what he needs and then let karma do its thing. But more over, his thoughts keep straying back to you. You’re probably at work right now, an afternoon shift that had started maybe an hour or so after he’d left the house although he knows for sure you don’t close today which means he doesn’t have to worry about getting too carried away with this little project of his but at this rate, he doesn’t think he can bear a moment longer with this bland, materialistic woman any—

“Oh my God, is it already that time?”

His monotonous hum comes out automatically in response before the words can register but as soon as they do, his eyes finally focus on Kim for the first time in an hour. She’s scrolling through her phone, brows furrowed in concentration and then furiously typing away on it. Jimin’s curiosity piques with a raised eyebrow and he leans over the table in between them.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh no, it’s just…” Kim’s struggles with focusing on Jimin while still trying to do whatever it is on her phone that’s got her so frantic. Her body rises as if to get up and it makes Jimin follow suit. She shoots him an apologetic look, glancing down one last time at her phone and Jimin barely catches a glimpse of a countdown. “There’s something really important I have to do.”

“Oh, what is it if I may ask?”

“There’s a concert happening soon and I really want to get tickets for.”

Oh?

A serpentine smile pulls at the corners of his lips and Jimin’s eyes seem to come to life — now she’s speaking his language. He draws his face in to play the part; concerned and eager to help.

“Oh really? Are they hard to get?”

She takes the bait beautifully, rolling her eyes with a ragged sigh as she settles back into her chair. “Oh my God, you have no idea. It’s like winning the lottery I swear.”

“Wow, sounds impossible….” Jimin comments offhandedly, lowering himself back into his seat again. “Maybe I could…help?”

Kim perks up at the idea, the hopeful gleam in her eyes palpable that it nearly makes Jimin snort. She chews on her bottom lip, conflicted and right when Jimin’s about to sway her into temptation, her eyes meet the ticking timer on her phone browser reaching to t-minus three minutes. It’s enough to make her hasty decision and Kim wastes no time instructing Jimin to take his phone out, download the appropriate app and search for the show that she so desperately wants to get tickets for — enough to seal her fate with a demon out of her own volition at that!

So you could only imagine the surprise Jimin had when her directed search lands on—

“Love Yourself Tour? By BTS?”

“Yes that one.”

Seven hells there was no way.

Oh this was just too good.

The laughter starts bubbling rapidly in his chest, so much so that when he tries to lower his head to quell it it doesn’t work. It ruptures into a chuckle, shoulders shaking and before he knew it, he’s sinking back into his chair, head thrown back and a poor attempt to cover up the sounds of his cackling with his hand over his mouth. No doubt the entire cafe has eyes on their table but Jimin doesn’t care because his sides are killing him and he’s about to cry literal tears from trying to reel himself in — he only succeeds in folding in on himself and emitting occasional squeaks.

When he rights himself finally, wiping away at the corners of his eyes he catches sight of Kim who’s giving him a look that nearly sends him into another fit again. He barely manages by clearing his throat and glancing away, breathing deeply before answering her unspoken question.

“Sorry, just— I’ve actually heard of them before so it explains why it’s so hard to get tickets for their show.”

Kim’s face breaks into a smile, still nonplussed by his outburst but nodding in solidarity. “Yeah, so if you manage to get tickets — good ones — I might just think you’re a God.”

Satan, this girl might actually kill him instead.

He waves her off, cheeks aching and Jimin is actually thankful when the countdown on his phone reaches zero and Kim reverts back into a rather serious demeanour, eyes lasering in on her phone as she furiously taps away at it. She lets out a loud gasp within the next few minutes, causing Jimin to look up.

“I’m behind 105 people! I think I might be able to do this! What about you?”

With a quick glance, Jimin reads, “100.”

The brunette’s eyes alight instantly, mouth falling open. “Oh my God, you might actually get in!”

He shrugs in return, feigning indifference. Secretly, however, Jimin knows very well that his chances of getting these golden tickets were high — way higher than Kim’s and not just because he’s ahead of her by five people but more importantly…..

As the agonizing wait of watching the little man run at a glacier pace, Jimin takes the opportunity to strike up a conversation.

“So, I didn’t think you were a fan of BTS.”

Kim tears her away from her phone momentarily, the wrinkle in her nose is all the answer Jimin needs. “Oh no, I don’t even know them like that — I just heard they were a huge deal, like really popular right now.”

Jimin already figures because Kim would’ve at least recognized him or remarked on how eerily similar he looks to one of the band members but this is just a segue to what Jimin really wants to get at from her. “Oh, then why are you trying to get tickets for their show?”

He catches the way she swallows nervously, eyes flitting to him briefly and there’s that bout of hesitation again. The smile is back on his face, disarming and with just enough sincerity that it convinces Kim that he won't judge. She glances around as if to make sure they weren’t being heard in their little booth corner before leaning towards him, voice coming out in a hush.

“Okay so, me and a friend have been doing this thing on the side where we buy tickets to really high demand shows and reselling them for higher prices. It’s honestly such good money when you come across big name artists that have crazy huge fanbases — like BTS.” She pauses to look down at her phone, keeping track of her little running man. “My friend got two P1 tickets to their show last year for $250 each and she resold them for $1,110, each!”

Jimin leans back as if impressed, throwing in a low whistle for effect. “Wow — that’s…pretty good.”

“I know right? The only problem is is that they’re so hard to get. Even though the average seats will still bring in good money, you get way better profit with GA or P1 seats.”

He nods along, looking contemplative but Kim’s gone back to her phone once again, this time, looking rather excited. It makes Jimin turn back to his own as well too and lo and behold, they’re finally in.

“Okay Julien just pick two tickets and do a run search for best seating until you find a pair. When you do, buy them because literally trying to find anything better would just mean you won’t get tickets at all. I'll owe you back the money afterwards.” Kim says it all in one breath, too into her own operation to notice the way the demon smirks and leisurely taps away as she had instructed him to do.

After what felt like hours of nail-biting suspense (on Kim’s end, Jimin had ordered himself a cappuccino in between that time), she finally pulls away with an exasperated groan.

“Damn it, I only managed to snag P3 tickets. Did you have any luck?”

He takes the time to uncross his legs, showing her the screen of his phone and grins boyishly when her eyes balks at what she reads.

“Two GA tickets?!” Kim almost screams it before she catches herself, slapping a hand over her mouth and ducking her head. When she’s sure no ones comes over to kick them out of the cafe for being a disturbance, she practically rounds on Jimin with unbidden elation. “Oh my God Julien! You’re amazing!” Her hands moves faster than her own words as she hastily pulls up her email. “You can send them over to me through my email. Honestly thank you so much for your help Julien, I’ll treat you to dinner tonight.”

When he makes no move to do as she says, Kim finally focuses on Jimin and her smile falters slightly. Jimin tilts his head almost too innocently, withdrawing his phone to blink wide, dark eyes at the brunette.

“What, did you think I was really going to hand these tickets over so easily after telling me all of that?”

He sees the way his words were not something Kim expected but she tries to play it off with a forced laugh. “You’re so funny Julien. Okay, how much?”

“$1,120.” A pause. “Each.”

She laughs again, the sound shrill and her face contorts into a mask of hollow mirth. Jimin watches on, only the barest of smiles ghosting his lips but he doesn’t join in on the joke. Well, not like there is one to begin with and Kim quickly realizes that as she calms down, all traces of a smile however fake, gone. Disbelief takes over her and that’s what almost makes Jimin laugh — he can literally see all the preconceptions she had of him disappear from her eyes. But he’s ever so charming; an amalgamation of soft and sharp, boyish and manly, chivalrous and a cunning wickedness underneath it all.

So it’s no surprise that he hasn’t completely lost her yet.

Kim takes the time to regard him, trying to gauge him and what’s going on in that pretty head of his only to come away, stumped. She’s contemplative, arms crossed before suddenly she cocks her head a little to one side, mouth tugging upwards into a half scoff, half smirk like she can’t believe Jimin’s about to try and play her at her own game.

“I’m gonna be honest — I never would’ve thought you would have the guts to do that.” She admits after a while, leaning back into her seat. “Usually all the guys I date would do whatever I ask them because they want to try and impress me.”

Figures.

Jimin didn’t need her to tell him that to know.

“But then again, I don't think you’re not quite like the other guys I’ve ever dated before.” Kim adds, voice dropping into a huskier tone right at the end. He goads her on, his expression darkens with the slightest hints of a promise she can’t refuse.

“Then how about I show what you’re missing out on?”

The sultry way in which he says it sends shivers down her spine, no doubt this new side she’s not aware of that could come from a face like his has her wanting more. With one last bite of her lip, she bites the bullet too.

“$1,000 each.”

“$1,115.”

“$1,100 each — And I’ll pay it in cash, only,” Jimin’s parted mouth stops halfway, his words falling short as Kim stops him with a coy smile. “We split it on some good dinner and Moet to celebrate tonight.”

Slowly, plush lips quirk upwards as an incredulous exhale escapes the demon; he hates to admit it, but Kim’s got spunk and unwittingly she’s been doing a good job at entertaining him. For a second, he considers, toys with the idea — she’s the perfect type to fuck around with, to string along on a wild and impulsive ride that would’ve involved a lot of money, sex, perhaps drugs until it left her breathless, addicted and drained to the very last penny. He would wrap her around his fingers so tightly, she would think it’s him that was under her spell. And right at the peak of it all, he would leave, disappear from her life as if he were nothing more than a self-indulgent dream she’d dreamt up, only for reality to come crashing down on her hard and the rest would’ve been history.

Tempting….

But…

He’s already been down that road, had more than his fair share of leaving women broken in more than one ways, tires of this game because no matter the centuries he’s lived in —

“Alright, how about we meet at The Red Muse later in the evening? You can take the time to go doll yourself up for me and we’ll go to town with this, yes?”

Kim grins, absolutely vibrating from his proposal as she bites her lower lip in an attempt to quell the salacious smile stretching her lips.

“Deal.”

They never learn.

Soon after, Jimin leaves to go off his separate ways with no particular plan in mind. He’s got a lot of time to kill before meeting Kim and he’s not particularly interested in seeking out another easy target to influence — he doesn’t get paid nearly enough to be working overtime. Jimin eventually settles on heading to his favourite upscale bar (one that even with Kim’s caliber couldn’t dream of affording) to do a bit of pregaming. As he was nursing a glass of single malt whiskey, the demon is interrupted by probably the only other thorn on his side.

“I suppose some things don’t end up changing after all.”

“I’m offended you would ever think there’s a time where I’ve lost an ounce of class at all.”

Silence.

Jimin’s gaze whips to the younger demon who’s thin lips are slightly downturned in disagreement, eyes rolled to the far corner with the recalling of some fabricated memory.

“Well there was that one time — “

“Shut it if you don’t want me to singe off that face you’re so proud of.”

Jungkook snickers, eyes crinkling up as if Jimin had just made a joke instead of a threat. The older demon rolls his eyes, waving down the bartender for another refill of his drink in hopes of numbing the headache he feels creeping up on him, only to have the younger obnoxiously steal his glass for a sip once he does.

“Still, I would’ve thought you’d be off lurking around poppet like a shadow right about now.” Jungkook comments offhandedly, wrinkling his nose when the hard liquor rolls down his throat. His momentary distraction lets Jimin swipe his drink back.

“I’m not her personal caretaker, and as long as she’s looking both ways before crossing the street, she’ll be fine.”

“Really?” Jungkook’s skepticism bleeds through. “Last I checked, poppet was pretty down in the dumps about the concert thing — swear she could conjure a cloud above her head at the rate she’s going.”

His statement causes Jimin to straighten up a bit, thoughts spinning for a few seconds before coming to a conclusion. A slow smirk makes its way onto his lips, barely contained over the rim of his glass. Jimin doesn’t need to look over to know that Jungkook’s probably blinking big doe eyes at him, gauging his reaction but Jimin’s onto him, already knows what he’s after, so he’s going to drag this out until the younger is losing his mind.

“She’ll be fine.” He replies indifferently and that already leaves Jungkook feeling miffed.

“Wow…that’s….” The younger starts, struggling to find words for this unexpected blasé attitude. “Surprisingly cold of you.”

Jimin shrugs, unconcerned about it all and as he continues to sip on his whiskey, leaving Jungkook to become visibly more and more antsy. He shifts in his seat, like a little kid who can’t keep still.

“So, you’re just gonna….leave her like that?”

“She’s already accepted that she’s not going so what’s there to do?”

“Well — !” Jungkook doesn’t know how to proceed, face pinched into one of utter confusion and it’s difficult to keep a straight face on when Jimin can literally see him questioning everything he believed up until this point. He continues to flounder for words, on the cusp of saying something but then stopping himself. It goes on for a few more minutes before Jungkook gives up with an exasperated huff. “So much for being a guardian…”

“Exactly; I’m a guardian, not a miracle worker.”

The words slip so easily past his lips and he’s so thankful for Jungkook finally leaving him alone so that he can let out the loud, snorting laugh he’s been keeping in the entire time. He probably looks crazy but he really could care less, muttering under his breath about how he can’t believe the irony of it all. This entire ordeal with Kim turned out to be a way better investment than he had initially thought; it almost made him feel sorry for the poor girl he’s about to drop off at hell’s doorsteps.

Almost.

He downs the rest of his drink in one go, savouring the smokey whiskey taste as it leaves a pleasant burn when he swallows. He wonders idly what the sensation of being drunk is like, trying to compare it to any other feelings he must’ve felt in his lifetime….

Jimin’s thoughts continue to wander for quite some time, thinking about this and that until belatedly, he realizes that the appointed time to meet Kim had passed nearly more than two hours. When he checks his phone, there is no trace of a text from the girl in question, not even one berating him for being stood up. At this point, any sensible person would be rather concerned, alarmed even. They would immediately call to see if everything was alright but for Jimin, the thought never crosses his mind. He merely humphs, like this is all an inconvenience to him, downs the rest of his drink and gets up after paying.

It’s late when he steps out of the bar, the sun having long since set and the city is alight, teeming with people enjoying dinner on patios, heading out for events or just strolling the streets. Instead of joining in on the hubbub, he strides off with the intention of heading to a more…peaceful place. But first, he thinks, he might pay you a visit. After all, he’s got a pair of BTS tickets on hand and now with Kim going MIA, he figured they could be put to better use, like making you admit that you miss him when he’s gone.

Either way, he can’t wait to see the look on your face.

He makes it back to your place faster than he expected, body thrumming with a feeling that he swears can’t be from the alcohol he’s consumed but nonetheless welcomes anyways. He’s in such a good mood that he almost rings your doorbell, catching himself last minute. Jimin laughs to himself, maybe it really is the alcohol after all? He shrugs if off and apparates to your room, only to find that it’s empty of you. He double takes, making sure he hasn’t accidentally overlooked you in the darkness but nope, there’s no signs of you anywhere.

Maybe you were in the living room or kitchen?

Jimin pads on over to your door, carefully listening in case any one other than you might be out there as well. When he hears nothing, he phases through the walls. He’s a bit caught off guard for a moment at how dark everything is, as if no one was home. It wasn’t until he catches sight of the faint warm glow of the living room lamp does he spot you, sitting alone on the couch.

You lock eyes, dazed and blinking in surprise from clearly not expecting him. You think it’s all in your head, an illusion thought up in your inebriated state but then he steps forward into the light and suddenly, you’re overwhelmed by his sheer presence, breath catching in your throat as you swallow. The black jeans he’s wearing hugs the shape of his legs so well and with his shirt tucked in, the silver YSL buckle glinting in the light, it looks as if his legs just go on for days. He’s dressed so simply and you’re appraising him like you’re seeing him for the first time until now instead of earlier today, yet your initial thought doesn’t change at all — it’s not fair that he looks this good.

He stops just short of the couch, head cocking to one side with a subtle shift of the hips to lean his weight on one foot, dainty earrings twinkling as well as his dark eyes as they gaze at you. The mere gesture makes you huff out, agitated.

“Someone’s home early.” Your voice comes out more nasally sounding than Jimin remembers it and he chokes back a snort.

“Someone’s been drinking.” He teases back, nodding to the wine glass in your hand before shifting his sight to the coffee table in front of you, taking in the two bottles and the little 6-inch, half eaten cake. Another tilt of his head, this time he raises one shapely eyebrow too. “That, or you’ve had a really rough day.”

“Har. Har.” You say sarcastically, swirling your wine before taking another hardy sip. “I’m not that bougie or impulsive to get a whole cake to binge on myself — not yet at least.”

“Then….” Jimin stops to think, trying to come up with answers for the sudden appearance of the confectionery treat, only to come up with, “A celebration? Someone’s birthday? Jaehee’s?”

You giggle half-heartedly, downing the rest of your glass and Jimin is quick to pick up your lack of confirmation. Now he’s blinking owlishly in astonishment, stunned into brief silence until the words slip out in an uncharacteristically soft murmur, “It’s your birthday…”

“Ding ding ding.” You sing-song, leaning over to refill your glass. The effort of it makes you nearly tip over but you hold out, retrieving your drink and anchoring yourself back onto the couch again. You should probably stop right about now since the pounding in your head is making you both simultaneously nauseous and sleepy. Or at the very least, go back to pacing yourself better but that would mean risking getting into your feelings and you’d rather die of alcohol poisoning than get in your feelings. So you drink.

“Well,” You hear Jimin huff, “I’m rather hurt you didn’t invite me to the party cherub.”

You snort, letting your head loll onto the back of the couch and shutting your eyes, cradling your glass to your chest like it’s a lifeline. “Don’t worry, you didn’t miss out much — just me and Jaehee, t’s all. Well, Jaehee’s sleeping now….work tomorrow…”

You trail off, the sound of your heartbeat ringing loudly in your ears that it might as well be beating inside your head than in your chest right now. You’re trying really hard to steady it but it only seems to make your breathing sound more laboured and doing no help to subside the killer wine buzz you have. Maybe you really should stop drinking after all, put down the glass you’re holding and call it a night before you do something mortifying, like throw up all the birthday cake you ate in front of Jimin. No, no, that is absolutely not happening. It would be disgusting and totally not cute. But then what are you going to do with the wine you just poured?

So caught up in your own inner ramblings, you failed to notice the quiet, pensive look marring Jimin’s face; eyebrows furrowed and the slightest downturn of his lips as he too becomes lost in his own thoughts. Clearly, he didn’t prepare himself for any of this — not like it would matter because he didn’t think anything would happen when he waltzed into your living room anyways. The most he had expected was to poke his head in, tease you about how obviously mopey you are about not going to the concert even when you had already decided not to go before dramatically brandishing the tickets with the promise of giving it to you after you dance a little for him. Instead, he’s caught in a conundrum of his own emotions, a jumbled mess that of course, only you could cause because you seem to be doing that a lot lately.

You’ve just about made up your mind, convinced to siphon the poured wine back into the bottle and then take your ass to bed when you nearly vault out of your own skin as soon as your eyes open.

“Jesus Jimin! What’re you—“

“Let’s go.”

You sputter, taken aback from the declaration before you blurt out, “Wha- Now? W-Where?” Your voice cracking as you lean away from Jimin’s imposing figure suddenly hovering over you to the point where you’re practically at a ninety-degree angle to the couch. He inhales deeply, one hand tousling through his hair while the other rests on his hip. He turns away from you briefly, allowing you the time to watch him go at war with himself, utterly confused and wondering what brought on such a spontaneous suggestion because, now that you think about it, you don’t think Jimin has ever invited you to go out anywhere before….

He rounds on you again and you’re forced back out of your thoughts to stare wide eyed up at him as he gathers himself.

“It’s just— just somewhere nice….As a…birthday present.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, bewildered at what you hear. If you were any more sober, you’d swear that that was the most you’ve heard Jimin fumble with his words. It’s….cute. Your heart’s still beating too loudly in your ear for your liking, you’ve still got a pulsing headache and your eyes are slowly becoming a little blurred, yet you still had the inkling thought of agreeing to go along with Jimin’s plan because how can you say no when he looks like that?

Well…. He might have to carry you but if he doesn’t mind then why the hell not?

You must’ve been staring for too long because Jimin starts to fidget in his spot, hand scratching the back of his neck. Oh, right; you gotta say yes you’re cool with it but might need some mobility assistance (this could get awkward).

“Uh…Well, that’s….cool. So like….where though?”

“That would ruin the surprise of it.” He laughs breathlessly and the sound itches to pull a smile on your own face.

“Do we gotta drive?”

“No driving cherub, you don’t even have a license.”

“Hey…I resent that.” You huff, limply pointing an accusatory finger at him before dropping your arm with a heavy thump. “So we walkin’? Cuz I’m telling ya now I can’t walk.”

“Clearly.” Jimin gracefully moves over towards your prone form again and with a dramatic sigh, he offers a hand to you. “C’mon get up, I’ll carry you.”

You blink hard, not believing your ears or luck. Here you thought you were gonna have to prostrate yourself to get him to carry you but he’s offering it willingly. Your heart squeezes inappropriately because this is touching you way more than it should and it’s probably showing on your face because Jimin gives you a weird look.

“Don’t make this weird, let’s just go before I change my mind.”

You only respond by holding out both your arms in the same manner a toddler wants to be picked up by their mother. Jimin exhales loudly through his nose, biting his bottom lip in order to school his face. When he’s composed himself again, he grabs onto you and hauls you up with effortless strength. Without meaning to, you fall against his broad chest with a yelp, clutching his biceps for dear life and trying very hard to stop your vision from swimming.

“You good cherub?” You hear him ask and even through your mantra of ‘don’t throw up’, you can still hear the restrained amusement seeping through.

“Just…Give me a sec.”

He gives you that courtesy, patiently waiting while holding you up from your unsteady legs, inhaling and exhaling until you think you’ve got most of your bearings back. You finally straighten, pulling back enough to be able to look up at him but when you do, you start to feel self-conscious. You probably look like a mess as much as you feel like one, or at least standing so close to Jimin you do. You’re still wearing your bare minimum ‘work clothes’ from earlier today that consists of a t-shirt you’ve had since high school and a pair of black yoga pants that has more or less faded to a dark grey from all the washes its been through.

“Ready?” Jimin asks, voice low that it gives off a slightly gravelly tone and pleasantly washes over you. You always liked the sound of his voice, could listen to him talk forever but it’s so soothing that it never fails to lull to sleep every time. When you swallow, mustering a nod of your head, he shifts you in his arms to have you looping yours around his neck and shoulder, startling you and igniting a heat that travels from the ends of your toes all the way up to your face. You immediately avert your gaze to your sock clad feet.

“Just hold onto me and,” He pauses, shooting you a roguish smirk. “You might want to close your eyes.”

That’s all the warning you get before you feel a pull so strong the air gets knocked out of you. All at once, you feel weightless with no sense of what’s up or down and instinctively, you huddle closer to the only other body mass that will indefinitely ensure you won’t fly away but before you can even emit a single shout, the powerful force vanishes and you feel solid ground.

“You can open your eyes now.” You feel Jimin’s chuckle rather than hear it and it takes you a whole hot second to realize you’ve actually had your eyes shut the entire time; when that happened you have no idea. Slowly, your eyes peel open as you release a shuddering breath, your senses having yet to fully catch up with you. They start to when you finally realize you’ve got a faceful of Jimin’s shirt, having practically squished into his chest, so much so that when you inhale you get a whiff of his cologne. It’s so subtle and almost undetectable but with you being this close, it overtakes you with ease. Next, your skin prickles as you feel a gentle breeze pass by, caressing the loose strands of your hair and tickling your cheeks and nose before finally you hear…. The humming of cars driving through the city with the occasional honks and sirens echoing off into the distant.

Wait, why do they sound so far away? Like…you’re above it all?

You flinch, alarmed and when you turn your head to look around you, your legs nearly give out. It’s only thanks to Jimin, who you’re still clutching onto with a vice grip that keeps you upright as you gaze out at the city horizon, illuminated by the multitudes of lights coming from the windows of buildings in front of you that stretch out as far as you can see. You double take, not believing if what you’re seeing is actually real until you feel Jimin move which makes you snap your bleary gaze up to him, searching for answers. He lets out a melodic laugh when he sees your expression.

“Never seen the city at night like this before huh?”

You could only open and close your mouth, gaping like a fish out of water as you look from him to the skyscrapers in front of you. Eventually, you gather enough courage to tentatively step away from Jimin since you’ve stepped foot onto this roof, but at the the first wave of vertigo, you instinctively sink down on your knees and remain fixed there. You must look ridiculous but like hell do you trust yourself right now to walk around on the flat roof of 6-story building with a system full of alcohol. Still, it doesn’t stop you from taking in the sights before you. It’s a clear night, not a single cloud lining the sky which leaves it so much more clear and vast, and with the glow from the lights below, you see the rich deep blues that peek through, reminding you of the depths of the open ocean. The view is beautiful and mesmerizing, like something you’d only see on the back of a postcard or in movies. You hadn’t noticed you’ve been swivelling around in your spot, head craned upwards in an attempt to take everything in until your world tilts once you’ve stopped long enough. You catch yourself on time from tipping over completely, hands shooting out as your heart leaps into your throat and you let out a shaky giggle.

“Slow down cherub, you’ll lose your head that way.” Jimin chides playfully, coming down to sit beside you. “If you think this is a view, wait till you get closer to the edge.”

“Oh ho ho, no, no, no.” You laugh, holding up a finger. “I refuse to go anywhere near it. Here is just fine.”

A snort, “I’ll catch you if that’s what you’re so worried about.”

You smile, “I had expect you to anyways.” And after a brief pause, you add quietly with your eyes fixated onto the city. “It’s still pretty — real pretty.”

You don’t catch the way he smiles softly in turn, the both of you lapsing into a companionable silence as you watch the city life continue to flow along. The ambient noise lets your mind drift freely, almost in a meditative state.

“This is nice.” You think aloud though your voice barely comes above a murmur, “Just watching the world go by like this, not having much to think on. Is this where you usually go off to when you’re not causing trouble?”

You side eye Jimin and hear him release air through his nose. “I’m much less of a menace than you think you know, but yes, I do come out here when I want to get away for a bit.”

You nod in understanding, letting your gaze wander over the landscape in front of you once more. You’re not sure what part of the city you’re in right now but you could imagine it being downtown, the faint bustling of traffic if you listen closely enough carrying over the gentle breeze and it doesn’t take much to picture the people down below, enjoying their night out in town with friends or families over dinner, a drink, or just by themselves, heading out or heading home. From the buildings, sometimes you catch the flicker of a light going out only for another one to come on in a different spot and you begin to wonder the lives these people might have.

“I wish I could stay up here.” You say, suddenly feeling melancholy. “Get away from it all too….”

Tired, you lean back until you’re lying down with your arms behind your head, facing towards the sky. Even from this high up and the sky as clear as it is, you don’t see a single star glimmering and you think it’s a pity; this would’ve been a perfect night to see them.

“It must be nice to be someone like you.” You continue to muse, “Not having to worry about insignificant mortal problems, like time or money…..”

You don’t hear a response from him and for a moment, you think he’s not even listening. It’s only when you think about backtracking do you hear his reply.

“Yeah, it’s kinda great when you start off but when you’ve been doing it for as long as I have….” He sighs, “It’s not what it’s cooked up to be….”

“Is it because it gets lonely?”

“More like boring…”

You laugh quietly under your breath, thinking to yourself that it’s so like him to think that; it’s evidence enough with him being here. Then another thought crosses your mind and you ask, “Do you think God judges you on the time you spend on earth?”

“….What makes you think that?” Jimin asks, sounding genuinely confused but also curious. You shrug, examining your nails listlessly.

“I saw it in a movie once. Apparently, when you die you go through seven levels of hell and each one has a trial you have to pass if you want to get reincarnated. If you fail one of the trials, you spend the rest of eternity getting punished there — one of them being called the Hell of Indolence, where they judge you on how well you’ve spent your time on earth and if they deem you’ve whiled away your life in laziness and inaction, you’ll be punished by running on a spinning disk while a spinning stone windmill chases you.”

“Sounds like a weekend on spring break.”

The wheeze comes out without you meaning to and you throw your hand out to the side to give him a reprimanding smack, trying to subdue your laughter. As usual, it hits his thigh but you’re too caught up in his punchline to care.

“I’m serious Jimin.” You say after collecting yourself. “It might’ve been fiction….Or maybe it really is real at this point who knows, but it really made me think — what if I had to go through those trials, like,” You take a moment, picturing the scene you’ve seen in the movie, imagining yourself before those trials, “how awful would it be to get told by a deity that you’ve basically failed at your life and you don’t deserve to get a second chance? Because you’ve done nothing with it….”

“….Do you think you would be told that?”

He knows it’s a loaded question, could hear the morose way in which you speak about life, death and the beyond, things he’s most familiar with. To him, it all means nothing but to you, it’s something that hangs above your head as a constant reminder that your time here is limited and it’s so precarious that it could end before you know it. He watches you shrug, too caught up in staring at the starless sky to notice.

“….Maybe….A small part of me does, and that’s what scares me.” You admit in a small voice. “Every year I feel like I haven’t moved forward at all with my life, just stuck doing the same thing while everyone else is getting that job they always wanted, traveling the world, getting engaged, doing what they love….” A humourless laugh expels along with the breath you exhale. “I don’t even know what I want to do beyond tomorrow, much less in two years… ten years from now? And it’s like any day, I’ll be left behind….”

The confession spills from you with unadulterated honesty, the most honest you’ve ever been in forever, it surprises even yourself. You think it’s the alcohol talking but you also think it’s mixed in conjunction with the coming of your birthday; another year tacked onto your life and along with it, the painstaking realization that time is passing by you way faster than you had fooled yourself to think otherwise. It’s something you’re not prepared to face.

Or ever will be.

So that’s why you choose to run, push it back to the farthest corners of your mind and even as it festers and grows, you vehemently ignore it. You drown yourself in school and work, meaningless distractions that lead to no self-satisfaction. It’s something to fill your time, nothing more or less. In those time, you yearned for an escape and that’s how you found your way through music, had found voices that called out to you with comforting words and made the uncertainties of the future seem less daunting.

“You won’t be left behind.”

His voice pierces above the white noise of the city below, clear as day even when it comes out no more than a quiet rasp. It rips you out from wallowing in the thoughts that you keep in the darker parts of your mind, almost startling you. Jimin’s eyes are locked on the horizon in front of him, even as you crane your neck up, you can’t discern any expression on his face but it seems you don’t need to as his words were more than enough to make up for it.

“If God judges you on your time spent on earth, then it is time where you’ve truly done nothing in the face of being able to do something.” Jimin says, unwavering. “And you’ve done something — have been doing something, because you’re somewhere different than where you were two years….ten years ago.

Life is many things darling, and everyone is too caught up with other people’s versions of it half the time. So even if you don’t know where you’re going, I think you owe it to yourself to at least make yours about you because no one else will.”

He finally turns his head to face you and if you thought you had trouble suppressing the swell of emotions in your chest before, you sure are screwed now. The lights of the buildings around you cast a warm glow to his profile, letting you see the slope of his nose, the fullness of his lips, the curve of his cheek that has you itching to stroke just to see if they’re as soft as they look, and the wispy way the strands of hair falls over his forehead, shorter than you had remembered; you wonder idly if he had it cut (it looks good). He’s beautiful — heartbreakingly so, like a statue carved in the finest of ivory but in that moment, it’s his eyes that makes your heart ache.

Endless pools of the deepest amber that hold so much history, seen so much history, perhaps the worst of mankind. They know of suffering, of loss, of betrayals and deceit, had even been the cause of them. You see the many emotions that had been reflected in those eyes, like gazing at an iridescent gem — pain, hatred, sadness, regret and at times, simply nothing at all. Time has both wisened and jaded them, but it is not a hardened glare that meets your own.

It’s tenderness.

“I know it may not seem like it, but if it’s worth anything,” Though it is only the two of you on this rooftop, he speaks in a way where he’s about to tell you the secrets to the world, something that only he wants you to hear and no one else. He takes a breath, never breaking your gaze as he says, “I think you’re doing just fine cherub, I really mean it.”

It’s so self-assured, so sincere, like he truly does believe in what he says that you think you don’t deserve this kind of faith, but perhaps it’s because he’s the one who said it that you find yourself believing it too.

A small smile breaks out onto your lips for the first time in a while. “You’re not saying that just because it’s my birthday right?” You tease in hopes to swallow past the lump that’s formed in your throat but your voice comes out sounding tight regardless. If Jimin notices, he doesn’t comment, instead shoots his own smile back at you, lips stretched until the tiniest hints of teeth are showing and eyes crinkling at the corners.

“I don’t think I need to tell you that I’ve seen some shit as a demon who’s lived way longer than you’ve been on earth. Besides,” He turns back to the city view before him, leisurely reclining back so that he leans his weight on his hands placed behind him. “No place worth going has any shortcuts and those that do would most likely lead to hell.”

You chuff a laugh with a shake of your head, turning your gaze back towards the dark sky that is still void of any stars. This time, you don’t mind that there aren’t because if not tonight, then maybe another night you’ll be able to see one.

And a part of you hopes it’ll be with him too.

“Thank you.” You say softly. “For everything until now…”

“….Don’t mention it cherub.”

It’s a heartfelt thanks that echoes in the quiet night, a rare display of vulnerability from you and shockingly, from himself. Even if your confession was acted upon by liquid courage, he knows that it had been something that weighed heavily on your mind for who knows how long but now, you’ve finally calmed that turmoil that threatens to break you and however temporary it may be, you’re genuinely grateful to have confided in him and walk away with a lighter heart.

It’s gratitude that he’s more than happy to revel in, if only it didn’t sound like this would be the first and last time.

“What time is it?” You ask, voice breaking through Jimin’s troubling thoughts and he belatedly reaches into his pocket to check his phone. You don’t see the way he raises an eyebrow at all the missed calls he’s got.

“Almost four.” He says, swiping away the notifications to clear the screen before his fingers tap away to pull up an app.

“Oh wow,” You breathe, getting up with a stretch. “Think we should head back? I’m definitely ready for bed.”

“When are you not?” Jimin snorts, “Is the age catching up to you already?”

“Stop, my back was killing me when I woke up today too.” You retort through a smile. You give your neck a roll and another stretch of your arms from having laid on a hard surface for a long period. Just when you’re about to muster up the strength to finally stand, Jimin stops you.

“There’s one more thing I have to show you.”

That catches your attention, whipping your eyes to him in mild surprise. He doesn’t have to — whatever it is that he has planned because this was more than enough. And you’re about to express that much when he suddenly shoves his phone into your face, startling you. You have to blink a couple of times in order to adjust to the brightness of the screen but when you do —

“What is this?” You dare to ask, heart beating quicker without meaning to as your eyes scan over the words, reading and then re-reading them but failing to register them all the same. Your eyes dart to Jimin who watches in quiet amusement from beside you, searching for any sort of answers for what you’re seeing.

“What does it look like?”

You’re left speechless and the only thing you could do is glance back and forth between the phone and Jimin, shaking your head in disbelief while trying to formulate words to your mess of thoughts.

“I — I don’t understand. How…?”

“….Guess you can call it a little demonic miracle of my own…” He says it as a light-hearted joke but unconsciously he brings a hand up to run through his hair, suddenly feeling bashful. Well, not like he could help it when you’re staring at him with wide, sparkly eyes. When he can’t handle your Bambi eyes any longer, he hurriedly blurts out the words you dare not speak yourself into existence for fear that it’s all just one hell of a good dream. “I got you tickets to go see BTS in the next city over alright?”

“But what about—?”

“I’ll take care of it all, don't worry about it.”

“Jimin that’s—!”

“Cherub, do you want to go or not?”

“I-I do! It’s just—“

“Then you’re going, no ifs, ands, or buts.” Jimin says it with finality, stern and in a way where you know he’ll ship you in a box if he has to. With no room left for arguing, you’re reduced to an overwhelming mess of emotion that has you struggling to contain it, leaving your hands to shake instead. Your quietness concerns Jimin for a minute before he lets out a grunt in surprise as he abruptly finds himself at the other end of your body slamming hug. He goes rigid, not knowing what to do with his hands as he lets you wrap yourself around him in a rather snug embrace that he thinks he can actually feel how fast your heart is beating against his chest. Or is that perhaps…his own?

“Thank you.” Your voice comes out as a hush warble against his ears. Two words and yet the amount of happiness Jimin hears coming from it is palpable, it makes him think that this is the happiest he’s ever seen you. He softens at that, tentatively wrapping his own arms around your waist to hold you steady and he thinks it’s nice to hold you for once without the context of having escaped a rather sticky situation beforehand.

And there it is again, that wretched twinge in his chest only this time it’s so obtrusive that he can no longer brush it off or ignore it. It comes with a realization of many things, but among them was something that he never would’ve expected to ever come into terms with, shocking him like an ice cold plunge in the middle of winter.

That as both a powerful demon and as a decent but temporary guardian, this is the extent of happiness that he'll ever be able to give you.

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