#i redid these all several times .. its so hard to be consistent :'') | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

roses-ruby · 5 years

Text

Desperandum Victum Chapter 2

Jimin x Female Reader

Genre: Demon AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut (future chapters), Mature, Slow Burn

Warnings: The story will get really fucking dark, including themes of incest, cannibalism, rape, murder, slavery, gore, yandere, religion, and way more oof. This chapter has mentions of violence and gore at the end.

Word Count: 10,129

Summary: You’ve had a traumatizing hard life and you move to a new town for new beginnings. But what if this town was hiding secrets of it’s own?

A/N: Sorry I’m late, this was supposed to be out hours ago but I just got home and don’t know how to use the fucking queue. This was originally due weeks ago, but I redid the story 3 times because I didn’t like how it kept turning out hahahaha wrote over 34k words and for what??? Anyway, last boring chapter I promise! Shit’s about to hit the fan ya’ll. Unedited, sorry, let me know of you find any mistakes!

Buying an old house was perdition disguised as a home.

Jun scoured through the wires of the electrical system. FallHaven weather circumstances were something he was cautioned about beforehand. Days consisted of hard-hitting heat, while the dusks were frigid and aloof. The outdated HVAC wiring had made the temperatures of the self-contained rooms a roller coaster, never knowing how severely the ventilation of said room would get tropical or glacial. Behind him, beyond the croaking and crickets; laid his back-porch barrier, it’s paint chipping from the fractured foundation. He previously spent $1000 to fix the asbestos grit around the house, and just yesterday he made a call to confirm the rumors of lead paint. Never has he regretted anything more than not contacting a house inspector prior the move.

Closing the chaotic cabinet of cables, Jun huffs, patting the few beads of sweat with the bottom of his tank top. He’ll ask uncle Alp about it in the morning. Maybe he should start a fire tonight. Taking a few steps to his back door, he opens it and squints at the hallway’s light. Locking the knob, he turns around, treading into the hall leading into the living room, before he stops in front of your decrepit door.

Right after you stepped into the house, you shut yourself in your room. Not responding to any of his inquiries or pleads. The hours had passed on in silence, and the house seemed too lonely for the night. Your food was left untouched on the table. Wanting you to come out, he had made your favorite stew with the produce he bought today. Its rich spice had glided throughout the capacity. He knew it was fruitless, and he tried to be patient, but his mind glimmered with hope that you’ll come out your door in any moment, drool at the side of your mouth, ogling his food like a bear ogles at honey. He chuckled at the image.

But it didn’t come true. You hadn’t come out. You hadn’t even made a sound, and that to him was worrisome more than anything. As someone who always had a comment on everything, much to Jun’s displeasure, to see you so mute reminds him of those days. The worst fucking mistake of his life. A nightmare that often visits him still, making a nest in his subconscious like a fatal tumor. And then there’s the wounds on your wrist.

Jun wasn’t an impatient man; high off his own ego plenty to break down your protective barrier. It was something he had to teach himself, just like most of the things in his life, coming from a place where you don’t learn anything from anyone, but see it all anyway. Yet his intolerance for desolation splintered the shield that was his reasoning. He grew up this way. A string of impulsive verdicts-results of mental burdens, dissociating him from himself. They could only lead to tragedy and he’s had abundant amounts of that serving. So instead he’ll pride himself in being cautious, especially when it comes to you.

Staring at the imbedded wooden material, he starts fretting about your bruise. The color is probably richer and unusual. You hadn’t even let him look properly, and there’s no aid in your room. Biting his nails, he contemplates urgently of what to do. Teenagers are impossible, he sighs, you were much easier to handle when you were a kid. Not to mention cuter.

That’s when it hits him. He’ll sing that song you love, just like he used to when you were a kid! Yet he cringes as soon as he thinks it. It’s been a few years, and you were way older now. Still, it worked before, it worked during that nightmare. He soundlessly pleads with the god you believe in.

Quietly clearing his throat, he hums almost inaudibly. Can’t believe I’m getting warmed up for this, he reflects. If you don’t come out subsequently, he’ll die of grief or shame. Whichever hits him first. Pacing back a bit, away from your heavy door, he slowly begins to sing,

“Somewhere over the rainbowww-,”

…

“Waaa-y up high”

“There's a land that I heard of once, in a lullaby…”

“Somewhere over the rainbowww-, skies are blue,”

…

“And the dreams that you dare to dream…”

“…really do come true…”

A second passed. Then 10…eventually 30.

2 minutes had passed.

He looks down, dejected. Despair coursing his veins, he lets out a heavy breath; he didn’t want to go through this once more.

The lock clicks open!

His head jumps up to face the door being pulled in and your timid figure walking out. He wants to cry and give you a huge hug; wrap you around in his arms with love and comfort, but he doesn’t have the heart to scare you again, so he just stands there as you do too. You stare at him with meek eyes, the dark bags laying just beneath them pull at the strings of his heart.

Pulling his thoughts together he softly speaks to you,

“Hey”

He’s not sure what to say though

Does he question who that lady was? Does he ask about your wrist? Or dinner? Should he drop the topic and make a joke about something entirely different instead? Which option would make you open up? He’s as naïve as he was 3 years ago.

“Hi” you whisper

“Listen I know you don-”

“I don’t know” you interrupt Jun, “I don’t know who that lady was and I don’t want to”

“I’m gonna talk to some people about her tomorrow, someone should know” he cautiously puts his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it slightly in comfort, “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna let her come near you again”

You stare at the floor, not saying a word while Jun analyzes even the tiniest twitch of your nose

“Can I look at your wrist, princess?”

Shutting your eyes, you tense your shoulders. It’s all right, it’s just Jun you think, as you bring your wrist into view. The both of you were examining the purple blue hues around the skin together. Jun touches it lightly with his digits making you flinch, so he backs up before marginally trying yet again. Making contact with your cold casing, he shudders and averts his head before he grabs your fingers in his own and tugs your hand back down. He can’t come to terms with it still like a run-away, and it’s the one thing he deters from. How much of a coward he is.

“Jun-”

“Sorry, yeah I know,” He knows better than anyone, that’s what he said. But he doesn’t know when you make his way into his chest and wrap your arms over his trembling limbs. Doesn’t know he needs comfort more than you. Doesn’t know why you still trust him. Doesn’t know when you’ve grown up so much.

“Jun” you stifle in his shoulders, “It’s alright now, I’m fine. My wrist. My wounds…it doesn’t hurt, I don’t feel anything”

“I’m just sad,” He feels your tears on his shirt as you let out a choked sob, “That nothing has changed within 3 years. That I’m still so weak…she could’ve done anything”

“No, no, no!” Jun holds you protectively, “nothing is gonna happen to you…not when I’m around”

And you weren’t.

His evil mind brands the painful statement of his truth as he secures his senses and holds you tighter.

“…I just want to forget today Jun…please. I don’t want to talk about it again. Not when we have so much to look forward to”

“Anything…”

Just like him you don’t want to go through this again. You scarcely survived last time, and its misery expanses through your blood, the evidence on your wrist. Adversity is what you were doomed with, you were aware-made peace with it long ago. And so, like any survivor would; you did what you had to do to move on. Block out the pain and smile. Even if it kills you.

Removing your face off his torso, you wipe your tears with your fist.

“Did they find Mojo?”

“Mojo? …Oh, the dog? They did!” Jun laughs helping you wipe your tears, “He was found barking at a fresh beef jerky station”

Thank God he was safe. For some reason you assumed the old woman kidnapped him. Found barking at beef jerky huh…that sounds delicious.

“I’m hungry” your lips form into a pout and you pat at your lowly rumbling stomach and Jun gives you the biggest grin

“Excellent” he says while fiddling his fingers together like an evil cartoon character “Let me go fix your plate and grab the first aid mwahahaha”

You’re extremely confused with his demeanor and make it known by scrunching your face in half confusion and half disgust

“Did you poison the food?”

“Ahahaha…no,” He starts stepping away towards the kitchen, “Some things just work out according to your plan”

“Like the lullaby?”

He stops in the middle of the hallway as the expressions on your face’s switches with each other “I didn’t know you were still so soft Junie”

“Shut up”

“And your voice! Have you been sneakily practicing Mr. Sinatra?”

“M-m-maybe you sh-should go to bed without food!” He stutters with a red face and his hands on his hips

That shuts you up as you give him a ‘Hmph!” and pass him on the hall into the dining room. “Whoa!” you gasp as you notice the clock, “11:41 already”

“WHAT?!” Jun shouts rushing into the room and witnessing your comment “You have school tomorrow! This isn’t good,” he grabs your plate at the table and speeds to the microwave

“Does this mean I get to stay up till 2?”

“NO!”

The weather was frosty these days, tickling you through the ruffles of your tight purple dress. You skipped amongst the inner lining of the wooded area, close enough to see the highway through the shrubs, holding tiny rocks in your fist. You weren’t fully clothed for the temperature, short sleeves and loose tights making your tiny limbs tremble for a good 20 minutes; you wanted to go home. Instead you distracted yourself by picking up little bits of the earth.

“Don’t get too close to the water” you hear from behind. Twirling on one leg, you observe the petite woman towering on the upper side of the ditch, glaring through your soul. She stood by one of the large dead trees, her arms folded across her chest.

There are shadows under her eyes, stiffening the complexion of her pale skin. She stares down at you with her flooded pupils. Her fingers scratching at her arm through the warm jacket she wore.

“The water…don’t get too close” She repeats in the familiar fatigued tone. Her scarf seems to be suffocating her neck, and the padded jacket made a sleek noise every time she made a move. You can spot her steady breaths in the bitter air. For a moment there’s nothing but silenced stares shared between you and her.

That vanishes as soon as a large black car passes by. She whips her head into the direction of the street she’s near, as her breath comes out in a speedier rate. You also turn away from her stature, focused on finding more rocks. They lead into the mini creek in the end of the ditch. Walking up to the creek, you squat to watch your reflection in the water. It was better than your small mirror, you think, fixing your beanie and wiping the stray hairs irritating your face.

“Hey! What did I tell you?” you once again turn to find her figure in your direction once again. There was a hint of anger in her pupils, she appears like she’ll walk up to you any second now until you hear another voice.

“It’s you right?” The stranger wearing all black paces up to her, he seemed scary – you couldn’t see his face by his hood covering, but he was taller than her and you were scared for her.

“Nice place you picked, asshole” She grits at him, having completely forgotten about your presence, digging into her purse feverously

“Come on, it’s a dead road sweetheart. No one comes around these parts” he laughs at her annoyed attitude.

He makes eye contact with you, and you sense your heart skip a beat. “Cute kid” he smiles at you.

The woman gives you a quick glance from her rummaging, “You’re scaring her” she returns to her digging

“Aww why? I’m not a bad guy,” he gives you a wave as she snorts

She gets out a bunch of money, you don’t know how much, it’s all stuffed and crumpled in her hand. Giving it a glance over, she shoves it into his chest. You watch him sigh, and mildly remove the cash from her fingers. He straightens out the bills and begins counting them.

“You’re short” He says, folding the notes and fitting them into his back pocket. “15 milligrams only”

“15?” she shouts before noticing her surroundings, and harshly whispers “You gave me 30 for this much last time”

“That was last time sweetheart, price’s changed”

You gawk as she leaps at him, her palms clutching the sides of his hoodie, having you seal your tiny rocks into your own palm. “P-Please – don’t do this” she spits out “It doesn’t – it barely works anymore, it hurts, it hurts so much – everywhere I-I can’t”

He pushes her off him, into the ground making you stand up straight as heat fills your bones. “That’s not my problem, don’t spit on me bitch” he yells as she heaves on the scattered dead leaves. He watches her struggle a bit before taking a long breath, “Shit, I didn’t mean that…I’ve already been having a bad day, don’t just jump up on me” he messes with his hoodie

Dragging her up to her feet, he takes out a petty clear bag, filled with white powder. Her neck’s bending towards the ground, she refuses to look up at him, which gets him rowdier. He pulls her arm up and crams the bag into her hand.

“You want more? Get more money” he sneers, “Sell that kid” he points at you

“Or better yet, buy her a jacket” he finishes, stomping away with his hands in his jacket’s pouch.

You watch him leave as the freezing wind picks up again. She doesn’t move a muscle facing away from your view. Having the alarms in your head pacified by the lull of the forest, you return your gaze to the creek. There’s a shiny rock in the center of the stream, which makes you squat out of curiosity once again. It’s shimmering the light of the sun, which you were sure was covered by fluffy clouds when you stepped outside. Your face turns up, as you make direct eye contact with the ball of glaring fury. Squinting at the flares you bring your small fist up to protect your sight.

At that moment you hear the crunching of leaves by your rear, a voice deeply surrounding your passive frame –

“What did I tell you about the water”

Sitting up in your bed you stare off into the corner of your messy mattress. The lining seems to be ripping from the sheet due to your endless fluster. You’re deep in your thoughts, not being comprehensively conscious to the morning chirps of blue jays – their high-pitched revenue placating you to doze off. In brief, you were still perplexed by your dream. It’s been a long while since you’ve thought of her.

Saturday was finally here. The rest day for a million chores, sunny and bright for your pleasure. You think back on the week, which has been smooth sailing minus a few unintentional mishaps. It's been an easy couple of days, if you take away your anxiety and the few occurrences where you’d look over your shoulder to make sure no elderly lady was following you. Yesterday you almost peed yourself when you ran into the neighbor lady. It was a coincidence, you didn’t know she’d be standing right in front of the entryway as you opened the door to leave for school, and she didn’t know you’d scream right in her face. Long story short, after you screamed, and she screamed, and Jun scolded you; she gave you some lemon meringues. The reason she was at your house. They were so delicious, you’d become fond of her.

Jun had been dropping you off to school these days. It was cute at first, until you realized all he would talk about was his favorite Alfred Hitchcock movies. Since almost all of them made you fall asleep, you weren’t exactly a fan. You didn’t heed to anything as soon as you caught other voices though, most likely students indicating the school building was near, so you booked it. Registering him running after you with a ‘Hey wait up’, you dashed into the gates and onto the platform leading inside the school. You were going to ignore him the whole way, but you had to feel guilt-ridden and twirled about to see him waving goodbye. Smiling, you return the gesture only to regret it as soon as he shouts

“Have a good day! I love you princess!”

-at the top of his lungs. That’s it. You were going to kill him. Spotting some students staring at you, the source of the weird old guy yelling, you sprint into the building with a muffled scream.

That was yesterday, and sadly he’s still alive and well.

Today was your officially your first church visit, hopefully to become a certified member of FallHaven Baptist Church. For some cause, you couldn’t deny you were nervous; the church had a bit of an intimidating exterior. Well at least you’d finally get to buy new shoes for school.

Speaking of school, you had made friends! Or well, Candance and ‘a’ friend. Her name was Jasmine, and she was the nicest red head, a complete package of glasses and freckles. She came over to ask if you were okay when you had a terrible headache on Wednesday. Afterwards you noticed her in a few other periods, which wouldn’t be odd considering there are 60 kids in senior year. Jasmine joined you and Candance for lunch since then. Maybe you’re becoming a bit too attached to both too quickly, fault of only your own social awkwardness. But you knew they’re both great people, as well as members of today’s church.

You feel guilty for even thinking this, but you hadn’t had a run-in Jimin around after the strange incident on Monday. Sometimes you’d spot him talking to a pretty girl in the back of the class. Or well, she would talk, sitting right on his lap while he looked out through the window. His guard would stand behind him without an expression and you found yourself growing even more interested in his world. It’s not that you had feelings for him, you knew yourself and that was impossible. You tried but you couldn’t get Jimin out of your head…or that look in his eye. His aura was magnetic, and you were drawn to him by an invisible force. Is Jimin also a member of the church? He must be, everyone else is. Then again Jimin wasn’t like anybody else, not with those enflamed locks and sharp abyss eyes.

Knock Knock

You break from your thoughts as your door speaks, “Heyyy~ you up? We’ve got to leave in an hour” Jun hums in a hype tone.

Listening to the tune in his voice reminds you of Monday night, how you were swept in his large arms and you could smell his soft oceanic scent – rosemary and a hint of musk from his burdens lingering his neckline. His uncovered skin was on your lips, your torso swallowed by his. You turn a bright red, clenching the sheets around your fingers before you choke a shout

“I’ll be out in a minute”

“Alright, breakfast is on the table” He responds and finishes walking away. Taking a huge sigh, you wake yourself by smacking your cheeks, swinging your legs off the bed and stretching your rigid physique. It’s going to be a long day.

The walk to the Church was a good 20 minutes. Jun had insisted today, no matter how many times you begged him not to, to conversate about how Casablanca was the greatest movie in American cinema. You didn’t know why he knew every character’s name by hand, but that was another mystery of the Fabulous Jun. Letting him talk to his fulfillment was the best option, sighting how he sulked the tiniest every time you interrupted him.

By now, it should be obvious that Jun doesn’t have a car. Ironic, seeing where he works. It’s another reason why you moved here, everything was meters from each other. The town’s population was about 2100 folks from what Uncle Alp told you, and that number seemed so miniscule compared to the busy city. You think Jun was the most excited to move here, he was never much of a people’s person and the somber skies, reticent road gave him comfort. Your poor lone wolf.

“And that’s why Rick doesn’t believe in god”

“…Wait, what?” You turn to stare at him, the sentence your ear caught far more interesting than the pebble you were kicking with your feet.

“Weren’t you listening? I was just explaining the bane of existence Rick Blaine has to deal with!”

“Jun, we’re literally walking to church, would you please knock it off with the jokes?”

“Come on” He winks, “We’re going to be Christians in a good hour, can’t I have my fun while it lasts”

You roll your eyes to hide a smirk, ready to leave him behind once again when you spot huge white gate tubes from the corner of your eyes.

As you come face to face with the front gate, you stare at the gigantic structure known as the church. The white bricked building made the holy edifice seem even holier. The place was built like a palace, complete with a royal entrance pathway you walk through with Jun. Each side of the pathway had an endless field of grass, containing some of the most colorful flowers on earth.

“Not bad” He whispers

As you walk up to the building, you notice the gray bell tower on the right side of the roof. You wonder which lucky fellow gets to ring that bell. Once you get inside though, is when even Jun becomes speechless.

The interior stretches for a mile, the chapel big enough to seat the whole town. A warm aroma sifts through the wood of the benches, and you feel like you can stay in this golden-lit room forever. Stained glass was at every corner of the room, letting through the light the images wished. At the altar resided a large organ piano, candles decorating the pillars of the organs, burning an intense flame for it’s visitors. Above the piano stood the crucified Jesus, the pain sculptured on his face an intimidating reminder for anyone that comes across the his eyes. The chapel seemed decorated. White flowers adorned the benches of the sanctuary, and people seemed to be polishing the walls. A set of people were on a ladder, pulling up a decorative banner. You spot Joan at the right side of the room, by a small statue of Mary, chatting with 2 strangers that seemed to be closely heeding her words.

“Joan,” Jun calls out to her, and when she turns to him, he waves. She says her farewell to the strangers and comes your way. You wish there was someone else who could show you around, but alas luck was not on your side.

“Welcome, we have been patiently awaiting your arrival” Joan smiles, walking up to you with her hands held together

“Are the preparations for us? You shouldn’t have!” Jun jokes

Joan gives him a swift gaudy chortle, making you squint. That bad gag sure made her happy. Actually, everything seems to make her happy.

“We are getting ready for the arrival of one of our most cherished facility members. He will be attending our sermon tomorrow, you two have arrived on a marvelous period for the town” She gleams

“He sounds like someone special…has he been gone somewhere?” You question

“Yes, he has been lending a hand to the victims of the tragedy in Samaria in the beginning of the month…he has currently completed his concerns on the town and is returning home. His family is holding a ceremony for him tomorrow to reward his efforts”

You and Jun offer sympathetic glances.

The fire in Samaria had been circulating on television for weeks. In the beginning of the month, a local well-loved priest in the small town of Samaria had shut in worshippers during mass and torched the statue of Jesus on the cross in the front of the altar. 300 lives suffered grave deaths, including his own. It was said spectators could hear the vibration of children screaming through the blaze from a hundred miles around, as firefighters tried to tear down the bolted doors. Not a single survivor.

“We would love to be here tomorrow,” Jun smiles

“And we would love to have you. Now please come this way,” She extends her arm toward the inner hall on the right, “Our Archbishop is quite excited to meet you”

You follow Joan along the hall, her heel’s clacking echoing around the assembly of the broad interior. The ceiling was caved outward and dispersed among the hallway to the very end. It was the biggest building you had ever been inside, and your neck ached as you pressured your marveled gaze upon everything. The church had a dim, golden color and you walked along indoor pillars; each pillar encompassing a soft light fixture and a holy cross. Every column had a large brown door.

“Um, Joan, I read on your brochure this place has a confessional? As far as I know New Testament Christians don’t believe in the confessional method.” You see Jun’s expression out of the corner of your eye at your question. He was dazzled at your knowledge. Heh, how insulting.

“You are absolutely right, ___” She turns her head a bit and you spot her pleasant expression beyond her blonde tresses, “Actually, we are the only place of worship for many for around a thousand miles. This Church is also famous for its beauty. Everyone becomes enraptured with it, like you have,” She laughs as you blush. When did she catch you in amazement? “Members of our family come from far and wide to seek refuge in our humble Church, and therefore to ease their souls, we offer a great many sources for all kinds of our relatives. Including Protestants and Evangelist. We also offer everyone a place at the Holy Communion, baptized or not .”

“That’s…amazing. And so kind.” You awe. This was great, I mean you still wanted to be baptized along with Jun. New beginnings and all, but it’s great that you’re Church is so open hearted.

“Are there any problems because of this? Like do any leaders from those other tribes get upset?” Jun casually ponders, while you elbow him for asking something so insensitive…and did he just call them tribes?

“Au contrair!” Joan giggles, “We have the Vatican’s blessing, and many devout religious leaders visit our Church with boundless respect” She stops and turns her body toward the right side of the hallway, while you both have a clear view of her face. She smiles way too much. “So yes, our “tribes” get along well”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to be rude” Jun mutters, scratching the back of his head

“Oh no, I didn’t take your words for offense, Jun” Joan steps closer to the wall, hidden from your sight by a pillar “This is our Archbishop’s office” She knocks on what you believe is a door.

You hold your breath as the door glides open, the slight creaking at the hinges relaying it’s ancient age.

Out steps a sharply dressed tall old man. He embodied a tan-colored suit, edges ironed to perfection and not a fringe out of place in his off white head of hair, combed perfectly neat to the right. There was a handkerchief poking out from his front pocket and a brown bow tie adorning his collar. You couldn’t recognize any signs of fatigue and barely that of aging. The facial format of his appearance communicated passion and vigor, the wrinkles around his clear coffee eyes were soft and fresh, while the lines of his mouth were welcoming. Nothing but his hair gave away his age, not even a sun spot adorned his porcelain skin. He had the same stretchy smile on his features like Joan.

“Are these two beautiful souls our new neighbors?” He spoke in a harmonious tone of voice. You could sift the aura of a dominant charisma emitting from his stature from every word.

“Yes, they are!” Joan replies, “They want to become members of our Church, isn’t that wonderful, Robert? This is Robert,” She directs her words at Jun, “the Archbishop and eldest head of our Church”

They both stare at you, practically illuminating holy lights out of their asses, temporarily blinding you and Jun.

“Yeah, It’s nice to meet you, sir” Jun steps up and held out his hand; which the pastor, who you notice is taller than Jun, encompasses in both his palms, for an extra friendly greeting “My name is Jun and this is my sister, we just moved here last week, looking forward to joining your lovely Church, if you’d let us”

“This Church is open to any soul submitting himself to God” Robert speaks, rubbing Jun’s hand with both of his own, to which Jun uncomfortably laughs

“And you” He turns to you as you slightly startle, “Are you willing to submit your being to the high and mighty, little lamb?” He lets go of Jun’s hand and faces you. As do Jun and Joan, which irks the anti-attention personality in you.

“Um yes, I’m ___” You offer him your hand, which is easily taken in both of his own again. You immediately feel his warmth traveling through your arm from contact of his fingers, as he glides it over your casing delicately. It was as if he was a furnace. Goosebumps arrive on the affected area of the skin.

He pauses just a bit suddenly, and you watch his eyes open a bit further through his big smile, the corner of his lip turning downward. The chocolate of his iris had become darkened until it was an endless black, staring through your outer layers. You felt naked even with your clothes on, and it frightened you so you slowly pull your hand back. Trying not to make a rash movement.

Yet as soon as it came, it was gone.

He pulled your hand towards him again, and the blank gaze had dissolved into the familiar sweet caramel expression – not giving you a chance to react. You look at Jun and his relaxed expression, neither of the other two noticed your discomfort. Which was rare for Jun.

“Joan, You’ve done right by bringing these two here. I can tell they’ll fit right in and bring much fortune! You both are official FallHaven Baptist Church members”

“Oh wonderful!” Joan claps in celebration

Robert puts his arms in the air, his fingers and head raised towards the sky, “I can feel it already, the lord sending a message through me.” You stay still and watch as Joan immediately pulls out a wooden cross from underneath her blouse, bringing it up to her lips and chanting something under her breath. Jun takes a step back.

“He wants me to do it as soon as possible, he wants it done immediately. Yes Lord! For I am your humble servant! You both,” He turns back to you, “Will be baptized at tomorrows communion! Praise the Lord!”

“Amen!” Joan shouts, a bit out of breath and you notice how much her pupils dilated.

“Alright then boy,” He lets go of holding you under his intense gaze and rotates to Jun while you discreetly rub at your hand through your extra-long sleeves.

“Why don’t you and I have a little chat about some grown up stuff, while Joan gives a sort of tour of our holy house to the little lamb here” He puts his hand on your shoulder to refer to you and you stiffen immediately

“Sounds good” Jun raises a eyebrow at you “You alright with that?”

Alone with Joan?

“…Yes”

“Oh small one,” Robert slightly rubs his thumb around the back of your shoulder, “You’ve done so well by accepting Jesus. No longer will you grieve alone, for he will be by your side. He’s made it clear to you, he has!”

“I will not cause pain without allowing something new to be born, says the Lord! And that’s you!” He raises his finger into your face, his voice dominating through the walls of the hallway, echoing off the corners of the roof “You’re born again!”

“You’re free from your suffering!”

Walking down the left hallway on the second floor, you marvel at the glass ceiling, the cloudless sky letting in all the wonders of the world. Through the golden hues, you watch as Joan struts in front of you in the glittering hallway, occasionally detailing the authenticity of paintings and figurines decorating each side of the walls. So far, you’ve had the pleasure of seeing the study, the confessional also known as the reconciliation room, and the bell tower.

She displayed the charisma and pride of an honest church member. Bragging about many key aspects the large shelter provided. In total, the cathedral could serve up to 2000 worshippers at a time. It wasn’t the Jubilee, but it was still an amazing feat.

There were a few things you had learned already. The youth bible study met up twice a week after school. Classes for certain instruments and vocal lessons were also available. You signed the roster immediately after seeing the name of the person that led the group. Sunday mass lasts an hour after sunrise, led by the Archbishop and called for by the large bell tower. For those who miss it, there’s a make-up held by one of the priests and a deacon in the evenings. On Easter, mass lasts 3 hours with additional services including altar calls and extra hymns led by the youth group. It was so surreal, you were now actually apart of a community and you were going to do things with them…like a family does. For so long, it’s been just you and Jun. Speaking of him, you muse on how touchy he’ll get at you coming home late, or how cranky he’ll be in the early mornings for mass.

You let out a soft chuckle imagining his furrowed eyebrow, and the corners of his mouth flipped downside in a strong pout. Joan steps up to a door and you follow close behind, she pushes it open and turns to you.

“This is our Biblical library! The 4th largest in the world!” She pleasantly brags about the brightly lit room, where you have to keep your jaw from dropping. It finally made sense as to why this church was as big as it was.

Your eyes glaze over the giant cherry wood shelves, towering over the lax white chamber, straining your neck to the clouds. They pushed on for miles, one shelf after the other harboring hundreds of books. It was a bit intimidating. There were tables containing a few busy bodies lingering the maroon carpet in the front, and everything was vast and silent. At the front desk, there was a lady with a pointy nose which her bifocals rested upon, reading a blank brown covered book and whispering to herself inaudibly. She covered herself from head to toe with a black veil wrapped around her figure, a tunic like dress connected to a bib at the neck-line. A nun.

“Sister Haggith” Joan leans in to whisper to you, “She oversees the library and everything that comes with such a task. She knows every nook and cranny of this place, including each book and it’s location. Sister Haggith is an amazing woman, and another trusted member of the board”

“Wow” You gasp, “Is she from the monastery?”

“Yes, she has been with us for 21 years. Actually quite a few of our sisters have work around town. Have you gotten the chance to visit your school’s infirmary?”

“No, not yet. But I’ll be sure to check it out,” you tell her and she replies with a smile.

In the corner of the room, one of the clear glass cases catch your eye. Inside the display case was a worn out piece of khaki paper, looking about 100 years old. The paper was thin and fragile, torn the slightest at each of the ends. There was something written in shrill black ink, but you were too far away for it to be anything but blurry.

“Um, may I ask about that?” You shyly point at your object of interest and Joan follows your line of sight.

“Oh!” She chirps “The scripture of Nathanael”

When you give her a confused look, she leads you toward the stand with a ‘come with me’. Next to the display case were a few other ones, containing more ancient objects. Another that caught your eye was an extremely rusted dagger.

You examine the tabloid carefully, now that you were closer, you could easily read the paper. Or not? The writing wasn’t in English.

“What does it say?”

“It’s in Hebrew” Joan answers, “It was given to us by an angel from the heavens. He identified himself as Nathanael”

She bends down and reads a sentence off the paper, “thy fate lies in the conscious of thy choices; of thy wilt to serve the mighty”

Immediately your mind rushes toward what Candance had told you; about the tower and the famine and the ‘great warning.’

“It’s true” you accidently whisper out loud

“So, you have been enlightened?” Joan asks

“Yeah…I think…” You grin awkwardly

“There is no need to worry, there’s quite a few fables made about the tower” Joan giggles, “The reality is simple though. 120 years ago, our town was made up of devout Christians, filled to the brim with their love for our father.” She looks toward the ceiling happily, “They were refugees of the south, unbinding from their laws and wars, seeking a place to start over. However, we were new to this land. We settled into it’s foundation in the beginning of that year.” Her tone suddenly deepens and she slowly brings her head back down, “And you see, sometimes foundations become barren. Sometimes they crack. Then comes the drought”

For the first time you see Joan frown. That one word has her staring deep off into space, no longer a silver of light in her eyes. She stands there, glaring a hole through the white wall, and time slows around you both as you shift uncomfortably at the heavy atmosphere. You much rather have her creepily smiling.

“The drought” she whispers “That summer, the heat…the sounds of battle cries over the horizon…so endless, so suffocating. Oh how bad the drought was” she closes her eyelids as she shivers slightly. “We prayed and prayed and prayed for the bad drought to go away, on our knees till they bled, till our mouths were dry and our eyes felt that they would fall off. Oh bad drought go away, Oh Lord save us! And it happened” She raises her arms up into the air and open her eyes with one sudden motion, as you watch with astonishment

“Just like he promised! A miracle, a great mercy! He came down to us, he saved our damned souls!” the corners of her eyes well up, as she breathes heavily into the air practically yelling each syllable, “We-

“Joan!”

You both jump as a stern voice interrupts the silence of your small corner. There you spot Sister Haggith, quiet and still, her intimidating aura making you feel small. She appeared out of nowhere.

“You are being too loud, child. Shall I remind you of what a library is?” She speaks, staring through Joan as someone insignificant and you can feel the lady beside you straighten herself.

“Y-you are correct. I am so sorry” she takes a handkerchief out of her blazer’s breast pocket. She dabs sweat from her forehead with her fabric and turns to you. You notice how dilated her pupils are again, and you find yourself worrying for her.

“I-I am sorry, the moral of the story is that angel Nathanael saved us from the drought and laid down ground rules, which are written in the scripture. Alright, we should get on our way,” Grabbing your arm, she commences to walk away from the displays, around the woman who hadn’t moved an inch and toward the large doors as you wince.

You make a grunt of disapproval which has her peeking back and letting go of your arm. As you both step out of the library onto the foyer of the hallway, she treads quietly in front of you, until you both are once again in the chapel.

She turns around, and looks at you with apology.

“I am sorry, once again for my behavior. I get deep into my feelings about our lord, but a library is no place to behave that way.”

“No, I didn’t…think anything…”

“Is your wrist alright?” She questions suddenly

“Um-what…”

“You seemed like you were in pain when I held your arm,”

“Oh yeah,” You bring your arms up and pull down your sleeve to revel a thin layer of bandage around your wrist.

“My goodness,” Says a shocked Joan

“Oh no! It’s not what you think! Jun is just easily suggestible, and it’s just on until the bruise vanishes”

“Bruise?” She says, even more worried than before

“No – I mean yes, I ran into a small accident, but it’s no big deal really!” You flail your arms around in denial, trying desperately to mend her concern

“There you are!” A familiar jolly voice interjects you

“Robert!”

“Jun!”

You both shout in unison, a wave of relief unapologetically obvious in your voices.

“You ladies have a grand time?” Robert asks as he walks up to you and Jun trails behind with a wide grin

“Just wonderful” Joan answers, her blinding smile re-embellished on her features

“It was great, I learned a lot” You reply, taking a peek at Jun and his suggestive expression. He was holding in a laugh.

“Now that’s what I like to hear ‘round here!” Robert laughs out loud, “Me on the other hand loves this goofy fella” He pats Jun on the back

Jun jokes back at the senior, “Not as much as we love Thanksgiving dinner” he winks

You pale at the horrendous joke, while Robert cackles louder and pats Jun harder as he holds his abdomens with his other arm, seemingly in better spirits than in the morning. Joan covers her mouth and lets out a tiny giggle as well, while you make a strange ‘ha ha’ sound.

“See, see, what I tell ya, he’s goofy!”

Jun looks at you with accomplishment while you subtly roll your eyes at his ‘charm act.

“Alright then, I’ll see you both here in the early morning! Your baptism will be right in front of the chapel, after the service!” Robert informs you

The four of you exchange a few other pleasantries, and before you know it you’re on your way home with a slushy and a new pair of shoes in your hand.

“I didn’t know there were so many cake varieties before!” You chirp, marveling at the cake shop you had stopped by in the mall.

“Well I for one, am excited to try out this new electric hand mixer” Jun takes out a box from his shopping bag of said item, “Always wanted one of these”

“$4 bucks says you break on the third try” You squint your eyes, teasing the tall boy next to you

“And where will you get that money?” He asks as a matter of fact, making you ‘hmph’ in return

“…Do you like the church?” Jun questions

“…I do” You return, looking at his expression for something hidden. You just could never tell what he was thinking.

He smiles, “Robert’s quite the character, huh?”

“Yeah, Robert’s…something”

As you’re discerning, you make a turn at the intersection just to trip over one of your shoes and fall onto the pavement. Thank god your drink was almost empty, you think as the slushy falls by your side. You catch your body on your hand and knees as your bag slips out of your hand and into the ditch on the side of the sidewalk. Jun shouts your name as he bends down to check on you and you let out a curse watching the bag roll down the patchy green hill, toward the canal. Quickly, you get up and run after it while Jun runs after you, still yelling your name and telling you to stop.

Before your bag goes anywhere near the water, a long silhouette halts the object and picks it up with one hand. When you get closer you recognize the figure to be a young man, wearing a white suit. Your running ends and you stand a feet away from him, when he turns to look at you, taking away your breath for a good minute.

In the serenity of that afternoon, when the sun was at it’s highest and the nightingale sprung it’s chorus; the water reflected the colors of the rainbow and the winds softly whispered through your body, you met an angel.

“Hi, I’m Namjoon. Is this yours?”

He hands you the bag you had already long forgotten about. You stare at him, as motionless as a feather while you watch his face turn to one of confusion.

“Yup, that’s hers! Thanks man!” Jun breaks you out of your daze as he takes the bag from his fingers.

“Um, yes. Thank you so much!” You splutter, embarrassed

“It’s nothing” He smiles and your jaw drops open

Dimples.

“Bye the way, you took quite a fall back there. Are you alright?” He asks

When you fail to answer, Jun nudges you, breaking you out of your daze for a second time.

“M-more than! I don’t feel any pai-ow!” You grab your wrist and remember your injury. It feels suggestively worse than when you first got it. It couldn’t be that you sprained it…could it.

“Shit, I knew it was just a matter of time!” Jun shouts, grabbing your wrist to take a look himself

“Owwww, don’t pull it!” You whine tugging your arm back

You play tug of war for a bit, before you feel someone else gently grab your wrist and you both freeze. Namjoon opens your sleeve, and places his fingers on your wrist. He delicately presses down a few times,

“Does it hurt?”

“No,” and it didn’t. All the pain had evaporated just like that while a strong warmth spreads in place of any discomfort. Namjoon concentrates on your bandage, and it appears as if he could see through it, which makes you subconsciously draw your arm back. He couldn’t notice it, could he. While you stare at him, Jun’s head awkwardly angled to the side slides into the corner of your eye.

“I’m glad, must’ve been temporary” Namjoon says, releasing your hand and backing away, “Are you both new in town?”

“Yes, we just moved in a week ago!” Jun responds

“And how do you like my town?” He asks, putting his hands in his pockets.

“It’s been well, the house is old so adjusting’s a bit tough but we’ll get the hang of it”

“Where did you both move in from?”

“One of the inner cities from the north”

Namjoon becomes silent. “The one where they…uh…I-I’m sorry”

“It’s no big deal” Jun thwarts his worry, “Everyone’s reaction is the same, so we keep it hush-hush, but yeah”

“We’re town-folk now” You add

Both men look at you for a moment before they laugh.

“That’s right” Jun says through a gummy smile

“Of course,” Namjoon pipes in with his dimples

“We should get going, I need to make a few arrangements,” Jun shakes Namjoon’s hand as they exchange names, “See you around Namjoon? At the pub maybe?”

“Maybe, but not there,” Namjoon chuckles, “I’m still in school”

You and Jun look like a fish out of the water. I mean, he looks so mature? So wise? Which high schooler could be this angelic?

“So maybe I’ll see you around” He winks at you

You feel your legs give out but you hold still to not further your humiliation “H-how-”

“Every kid at FallHaven high wears those” He points at your shoes “Which grade are you in”

“S-senior year”

“Me too! Hopefully we’ll be class buddies”

“But I haven’t seen you around before?” You say

“I’ve been on a trip, just returned today. Monday will be my first day back”

“Wow! This is so cool cause she doesn’t have a lot of friends but you look like a popular guy, Namjoon! Take care of her! Hey come on over after class sometime and I’ll make you my famous choco-“

“Let’s go!” You push a rambling Jun, red-faced at his blabbering

“Wait, I’m just talking to the nice young ma-”

“Jun, we’re leaving!” you shout at the older boy

“B-bye, see you at school” You shyly shout back at Namjoon through the idiot’s screeching. Blushing harder when he waves a goodbye with an amused expression

As he leaves your view, you thought you spotted someone running up to his side, but maybe you were mistaken.

“I like him!”

“I get it Jun, you’ve said it a hundred times” You giggle at the child-like expression on his face. As you take one step after the other, almost at your house, Jun wouldn’t stop talking about the encounter with Namjoon. You liked him too. He was such a gentleman, so much class. School was going to get so much more interesting. Wait…Why was everyone at your school so good-looking. What’s up with that. How’re you going to survive being surrounded by hot people? Especially that one guy,

“Jimin”

“Who?”

It takes you a second to figure out you’ve said his name out loud, and when you take your eyes off the ground, Jun is glaring a hole right through your face.

“W-what?”

“Who’s Jimin” He questions with his breath in your face

“Nothing, go away” You avoid him

“First you’re a blushing mess in front of Namjoon, and now you’re whispering a name of a boy I never heard about?”

“I-I wasn-”

“I guess it’s time to tell you this” He looks ahead suddenly, his features hardened and serious

You watch him breathe through his nose, and blink slowly and you find yourself becoming nervous “Tell me w-what”

“The moment has come” He stops walking as your right in front of your house and puts all his focus on you, which in return makes you gulp.

“Princess…” the wind picks up and you gaze at him with goosebumps on your skin

“When a man and woman fall in love, sometimes they get these urges to become one, now what those are-”

“Say one more word and you won’t be able to pee standing up again”

You were making your bed after setting up the alarm clock Jun had bought you. It was time to sleep for tomorrow’s big day and your teeth were chattering just thinking about it. That and it was really cold inside the house. Uncle Alp had told Jun he would talk to some guy he knows, but so far you haven’t heard anything further. Hopefully it would be fixed by the end of next week. You don’t know how many more nights you’ll have to survive sweating through your house in the middle of the day and becoming a frozen statue on your bed at night.

In the mall, before you had lunch, Jun reminded you a hundred times to get a heater, but guess who forgot. Honestly you did it on purpose so he’d take you shopping again, but he doesn’t need to know that. What you didn’t like about today was Joan calling Jun by his name. I mean, adults call each other Mr. last name unless they’re close, right? Especially respectful ones like ‘Joan’ but here she was “hahaha Jun this hahaha Jun that.’ Ok, maybe you were being a bit mean. You felt really bad when Joan got yelled at by that elder lady. There is something about the old people in this town that freaks you out. Learning more about the town was a good thing. You were gonna revisit that Scripture and see what else you can find out about FallHaven. At least there’s no cannibalism.

You walk by your closet and take off your dress. It was when you were changing into your pajamas that you notice your wrist. The bandage was still wrapped around it but it didn’t hurt. It hadn’t hurt all day. Curious, you remove the tape and unwind the white ribbons off your wrist. Your heart beats a bit louder as it clears itself off your skin.

You let out a gasp.

Smooth, clean, no signs of staining or any discoloration. Twisting your wrist around, you decide to give it a flick. And still, no pain, no ache.

This morning, you had opened up the bandage to find a light purple bruise. Then just a few hours later…it vanished? Something wasn’t adding up. You recall how the pain had disappeared when Namjoon had touched it. Could he have somehow healed you?

Did people like that exist?

But then again. Those marks were still there. The reminders of your hell still scarred into your vision. If he had healing abilities…wouldn’t he have healed these? Definitely. So he’s not a healer, just a very good-looking boy. But then…where’s your bruise?

Argh, it was giving you a headache. Either way you won’t need this stupid bandage anymore, you think as you stand up and throw it in the dust bin. Shutting your door closed, and lights off, you cheerily skip onto your bedside and jump onto the springy mattress. Lying in bed and wrapping the covers around yourself tightly, you close your eyes in hopes to doze off into a new bright and sunny day. Today was over, and you and Jun were safe. In the end that’s all that mattered.

Bzzz Bzzz

It’s fully dark when you regain conscious and there’s something light knocking into your face. With your eyes closed in discomfort you swat away at whatever’s bothering your slumber.

Bzzz Bzzz

You sigh, as you fan yourself. Why was it so hot? Did Jun get the heat to work again? You kick off your covers, but then realize that there’s nothing to kick off. There was nothing covering your body but your pajamas.

Bzzz Bzzz

“Fuck” You sit up in your pitch black room. Turning to check the time, you spot 2:57 on your clock. That’s when you see a little black dot fly into your view, and you work quickly to stamp your hands together. It works because you feel something between your palms. Hesitant to let go, you move your arms away from you and open them up.

“Ew what the-”

You say at the sticky black goo encasing both your palms. Examining in through the moonlight, you stare at the icky gunk on your hand as the curtain from the window brushes your shoulder.

Wait, what?

You whip your head toward the missing glass above your bed in horror. Why was your window open?

Who opened it?

Before you know it, you’re breathing heavily and you turn around into your dark room once again. The quiet no longer giving you a sense of calm, instead replaced with the terror of reality. Someone broke into your room, the alarms go off in your head, and your sense of rationality goes flying out the open window. It’s dark, but you can make out most of the furniture in your room. And that’s where you see it.

In the corner of your room, by your dresser stands a long, bulky dark shadow, the recognition had you tightening your fingers on your sheets.

At this point your hyper ventilating as tears stream down your face.

“W-who” Is all you manage to make out, closing in on yourself to protect your body from any potential harm.

Bzzz Bzzz

There’s a minute that goes by before the shadow moves closer, and this time there’s buzzing surrounding you. You look around the room and it’s filled with tiny black spots rummaging the shadows, you choke on your sobs, as the buzzing grows louder. One of the black dots land right on your hand. The moonlight exposing the common fly. Yet there was something off about it. You shoo it off, covering your ears with your hands, you shut your eyes tight as you fall over, face first onto the bed; trying to drown out this nightmare. Every second the buzzing becomes louder and unbearable and you feel the shadow right on your back.

Then it stops.

No buzzing

No shadow

No flies

You peek out from your hands staring at the spot once occupied by the thing when you feel something brush your ear

“Don’t be scared”

A deep, gruff voice is all you hear before your back is being plowed open by what seems like a claw. You scream out at the feeling of your skin being ripped open on your back. Something attaches itself to your spine as you cough out blood in the middle of your deafening shrieks. Writhing on bed as the shadow holds you down, you scream and whimper out your lungs. Flies cover your face and drown out your own ears until you can only hear your internal damnation. Years of deeply buried memories come swelling up, and you claw at your mattress for some sanity.

You feel every rip and tear of flesh, every drop of blood pour from your back, every nail of the claw digging into the deepest corners of your body,

and in that moment, you wish for death.

You wake up with a loud gasp, as tears stream down your face. Turning your eyes at every inch of your room, your hands rapidly move across your body. There’s no blood, no opening, no trace of any violence. Turning to face the window, you find it shut and barren. Shivers run up your body from the cold room. Which calms you down the slightest. Sweat pours through you like an open drain, your pores still living in your nightmare. You check your clock, the 3:00 am glares back at you in bold red. A dream.

Just a dream. You slow your heavy breathing wrapping your arms around your torso, yet there’s no end in sight for your tears.

You’re about to calm down when you feel it. There’s bile crawling up your throat, you’re aware of the suffocating substance littering your esophagus. Falling out of bed, you crawl your way out of the room. You drag your body with your hands, barely making it over the toilet. It doesn’t take long – just one groan and you’re disgorging today’s contents into the toilet bowl. Everything’s chaotic and wet, saliva attaching the last bit of your vomit to your mouth. Coughing out the last fillings of your insides, you spit into the putrid bowl, before flushing away any trace of retch. Grunting, you crawl back towards your room, there’s absolutely no sensation in your legs. You tremble as you make your way back into your mattress, pulling up the blankets on your sore limbs.

It was just a dream. You aren’t gonna tell Jun because it’s over. It was a dream. Some hellish nightmare born from the uneasiness of your past traumas and changes you aren’t comfortable with. You’re safe. There’s no shadow, there’s no monster. Dad’s not here. Jun doesn’t need to worry because of you. It’s over.

You shake like that for another hour or two, it feels like someone is smashing a hammer into the side of your skull, before you somehow pass out on your bed.

#Bts #Park Jimin #Jimin smut #Jimin angst #Bts smut #Bts angst #Yandere jimin #Yandere bts #mp;dv

167 notes · View notes

handofvictory · 6 years

Text

Hi I redid Allen's questionnaire but did better this time.

What is your characters name? Does the character have a nickname?:

Allen Cooper. He lacks a nickname, though he has the title of Shadowblade.

What is your characters hair color? Eye color?:

His hair is black, and his eyes are now purple since he's become a shadow ascendent.

What kind of distinguishing facial features does your character have?:

… I’m not sure how to answer the question, honestly.

Does your character have a birthmark? Where is it? What about scars? How did he get them?:

He doesn’t have a birthmark, but boy does he have scars. He has been whipped for his crimes more than once, and in some universes that’s not all that happened to him. The scars of his beatings are large and ugly, and will never truly fade. He has scars on his hands from various incidents, many he can’t even remember. He has managed to avoid receiving any scars on his face.

He also has scars on his soul from his torture from the Legion, as well as from being thrown into the Void. He has suffered immensely and has the marks to show it.

Who are your characters friends and family? Who does he surround himself with? Who are the people your character is closest to? Who does he wish he were closest to?:

Allen's family would have to be Ellisse, Devon, and Malkhaz, whether or not he fully acknowledges any one of them. His friends would be Dar'nul and Althrich, more probably pending. Hand of Victory is in general a family to him, which he sort of accepts.

Allen honestly considers himself close to just about everyone he bonds with (due to how few he really bonds to), though to Devon moreso than others. There's a common bond between the two of them, and Devon is a father figure to him who has guided him through a lot of his problems and continues to help him to this day.

Ellisse and Malkhaz are sibling figures to him, and he has specific feelings regarding the two of them.

Ellisse he viewed as a savior for a long time, much as he knew it was unfair to her. To him, she was his chance to seek redemption, which he had no clue how to find or even how to start to look. He latched onto her and assumed that by following her, he might find change. He has since let go of that a lot thanks to serious amounts of recovery, but he still cares for her deeply as a sister.

With Malkhaz, he has chronically worried about failing him, and that fear is still there. Memories of his old teacher still haunt him, and he worries that the example he'll impart to Malkhaz will be the same one his teacher gave him. He didn't think of Mal positively initially, but he still did his best for him and tried to encourage his growth, and as a result he grew on him.

Allen doesn't actively seek relationships, but he does wish to mend his relationship to other guild members.

Where was your character born? Where has he lived since then? Where does he call home?:

He was born in some obscure kingdom I have yet to name that's based off of Latin America. Nowadays he's an adventurer, but the guild's home base counts as a consistent place he can call home.

Where does your character go when hes angry?:

Allen is chronically angry, so he doesn’t really “go” anywhere. He does try to go somewhere quiet and secluded to calm down when it gets to be too much for him, but that’s frequently unsuccessful and he becomes angrier as a result.

What is his biggest fear? Who has he told this to? Who would he never tell this to? Why?:

He fears losing all the progress he has made in his recovery and his redemption. He fears going back to the way he was, at which point he'd rather just kill himself because that is not a life he wants to live again. He hasn't said this to anyone, but the most likely one to hear about it would be Devon (followed by Dar'nul, oddly, then his two siblings maybe).

Does he have a secret?:

Not really. He doesn't tell everyone everything, but he's not really secretive either.

What makes your character laugh out loud?:

I have no clue how to describe his sense of humor but it's considerably easier to get him to laugh nowadays, even with dumb jokes.

When has your character been in love? Had a broken heart?:

He's never been in love, although he's been heartbroken by various traumatic events in his life. Losing his family twice comes to mind.

Then dig deeper by asking more unconventional questions:

What is in your characters refrigerator right now? On his bedroom floor? On his nightstand? In his garbage can?:

His room is a mess, but not a COMPLETE mess. Papers are on the floor, a book is on the nightstand, candy wrappers in the trash, along with other forms of garbage. He also has several books on the floor, and his room is completely disorganized.

Look at your characters feet. Describe what you see there. Does he wear dress shoes, gym shoes, or none at all? Is he in socks that are ratty and full of holes? Or is he wearing a pair of blue and gold slippers knitted by his grandmother?:

He wears leather boots that tend to be worn, but are still completely functional. Whenever they start losing their function, he makes new ones. His pants tend to be tucked into his boots.

When your character thinks of his childhood kitchen, what smell does he associate with it? Sauerkraut? Oatmeal cookies? Paint? Why is that smell so resonant for him?:

Allen doesn’t remember much of the kitchen from his childhood, but if he were to try hard enough, the smell of tomatoes would come to mind, and he has no clue why.

Your character is doing intense spring cleaning. What is easy for him to throw out? What is difficult for him to part with? Why?:

Allen finds it difficult to do any serious cleaning. If it isn't garbage, he finds it near impossible to throw out. He also has a difficult time motivatinf himself to clean. This is caused by his depression, but also he has spent his entire life only owning what he could carry, and so he tends to try to keep whatever he can.

Its Saturday at noon. What is your character doing? Give details. If hes eating breakfast, what exactly does he eat? If hes stretching out in his backyard to sun, what kind of blanket or towel does he lie on?:

Assuming he has nothing to do (which is not often the case), Allen is probably reading some historical fiction with some kind of food on the highest spire of either Dalaran or Silvermoon. The food is likely a candy or a sweet (coffee cake, for example). He may also have tea with him.

What is one strong memory that has stuck with your character from childhood? Why is it so powerful and lasting?:

The second time he lost his family sticks out to him, primarily because he tried to keep them together, and ended up badly beaten as a result. He remembers the aftermath, wherein his life was saved by Wolfgang. He then insisted that Allen owed him, and he suffered horribly under his tutelage for years without ever fully recovering from his loss.

Your character is getting ready for a night out. Where is he going? What does he wear? Who will he be with?:

If it's a night out, he's probably being dragged out by someone else. He himself has no ideas in mind as to where he would go, and would probably let Devon dress him up, because otherwise he would just show up in the blandest clothing imaginable.

Character Questionnaire 2 These questions are frequently used in interviews so you may want to pretend you’re interviewing your characters.

What do you consider your greatest achievement?:

"I’m not proud of what I’ve done."

What is your idea of perfect happiness?:

"General peace, I guess...?"

What is your current state of mind?:

“Tired.”

What is your favorite occupation?:

"Being a monk was... nice. I don't think I'll properly go back to it, but it was a good change of pace that I shouldn't have abandoned."

What is your most treasured possession?:

“... nothing, at the moment. I just enjoy having things, to be honest...”

What or who is the greatest love of your life?:

"I'm not answering this."

What is your favorite journey?:

“… I don’t think I could pick a favorite, I’m usually just here for the ride.”

What is your most marked characteristic?:

“Uh. I used to say it's my eyes, but I'm not sure anymore.”

When and where were you the happiest?:

“I'm not answering this.”

What is it that you most dislike?:

“... hm. I despise loud, sudden noises, and I hate [cotton] fabrics. Itches like hell.”

What is your greatest fear?:

"I don't know anymore. I think I've seen too much."

What is your greatest extravagance?:

“I suppose any time I buy myself something to eat, otherwise I try to spend only when I have to.”

{

Which living person do you most despise?:

Sigh. "I don't have the energy to hate anyone specifically. Catahecas comes closest, I suppose, but even then, I'm just too... tired to make note of him when he's not in proximity to me, or when I'm not joking about how loathesome he is to guildmates."

What is your greatest regret?:

"Everything. Just... everything. Let's leave it at that."

Which talent would you most like to have?:

“I don't think I can think of anything. Maybe be a good speaker.”

Where would you like to live?:

"I think where I currently live is fine."

What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?:

Allen looks to the side and seems to become lost in thought. His expression becomes somber, and he's unresponsive for a bit. The question is never answered.

What is the quality you most like in a man?:

His cheeks darken, and he clears his throat. "Next question."

What is the quality you most like in a woman?:

His cheeks darken a little further. “Next question!"

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?:

Gestures to his entire self.

What is the trait you most deplore in others?:

"It's hard to think of one, seeing as I have a hard time actively hating people. I suppose I avoid people who would take advantage of me or my loved ones the most."

What do you most value in your friends?:

“… kindness, compassion, a willingness to listen, that sort of thing...”

Who is your favorite hero of fiction?:

"I can’t say I have one."

Whose are your heroes in real life?:

"I suppose there are people in my life who count, but I... don't really see them as heroes per se. They're extremely important to me, but not... heroes."

Which living person do you most admire?:

“Shut up.”

What do you consider the most overrated virtue?:

“I don’t see how any of them could be overrated, they’re virtues for a reason.”

On what occasions do you lie?:

"When necessary. I don't like doing it, though. I then have to go along with the lie and it becomes a chore I don't want to do. I'd rather be honest if I can."

Which words or phrases do you most overuse?:

“Any time I talk about my past. 'In my lifetime' I should really just tell myself to shut up.”

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?:

“I'm working on changing what I can, but I would make myself less judgemental.”

What are your favorite names?:

“… names for what? You need to be more specific here, because I don’t think about peoples names all too much.”

How would you like to die?:

“Painlessly. Just... painlessly."

If you were to die and come back as a person or thing, what do you think it would be?:

Allen sighs. "I've never been given the choice, to tell you the truth. I don't think many people do. I think I'd rather just play the hand I'm dealt rather than imagine what could have been."

What is your motto?:

“Mottos are overrated.”

0 notes