Love This Documentary So Freaking Much! And The Album He Produced Is A Freaking Masterpiece!

Love this documentary so freaking much! And the album he produced is a freaking masterpiece!

SUGA: ROAD TO D-DAY (cr. jung-koook)

Agust D ‘People Pt.2′ ft. IU | Director: Woogie Kim

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The delulu is alive and well!

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Sweet baby! So glad he’s doing well! He looks so well and healthy!

230524 - hoseok on wevers: ARMYs!!! I’ve finished. The letters and support that everyone sent helped enormously, so I was able to receive my training well!!!

I’ll work hard for the rest of my military service and do my best! I love you!!💜

. . . Cellphones are fascinating….hahahaha (trans. cr. sebyul)

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I absolutely love this story! It’s so well constructed and interesting and the mysteries that are these two main characters is interesting and captivating. Plot, setting, characters-all are a slam dunk.

Bedeviled | Chapter 6: rigor samsa

Pairing: demon!jungkook x female reader

Genre: E2L, drama, romance, angst, horror

WC: 5.8k

Warnings for this chapter: strong language, physical injuries, pain, cruelty, blood, fear, depictions of Hell and people in it, I think that's all pls kindly let me know if I missed something

Previous

You hobble along, jaw clenched to the point of cramping as you try your best to look where you're walking. 

No matter which place looks clear, you can't seem to avoid whatever keeps stabbing your feet. 

JK just walks alongside you, whistling lowly as he scans the area. 

This could be so much worse. 

So so so much worse. 

As you think to yourself, you keep your eyes on the ground. Then you suddenly see something different than the dirt you've seen since coming to Hell. 

You slow to a stop as the dirt reveals even more of a path that looks to be made of rusted metal. No doubt it used to be gold. 

It looks smooth to the touch, but when you take a curious step onto it, it's rough and hot. 

Very very hot. 

You suck in a breath and pull your foot back. 

"Ouch," you hiss quietly. 

"Something wrong?"

You look over at him and shake your head, "No."

"You don't sound sure."

He clearly knows what's going on, but finds amusement in taunting you however he can. 

"Having shoes on is sounding pretty good right about now, huh?" 

You look away from him, "I don't need to walk on the path, I can just go on the dirt-"

The look he sends you gives you an idea that apparently that's not the case. 

You two stand there and stare at each other for a while. 

"Why?" You eventually ask. 

He looks you up and down, observing the way you still keep your wrist cradled gingerly. 

"If you want to take your chances, be my guest."

You look back at the path, then take in your surroundings for a moment. 

The trees look almost like the path, as if they used to be a radiant gold before they rusted and became misshapen until they resembled a grotesque forest that was stripped of all its former pride and glory. 

You look back at him. 

It's hard to tell if he's just trying to mess with your head or if he's serious about needing to stay on the path. Nothing looks like there should be a reason to follow his words. 

Which might be why you should. 

Or why he would think that you would even though you don't need to. 

He continues to watch you try and figure it out in your head. 

It's interesting to see the wheels turn in your mind, to see you go back and forth, wondering if you can trust him or not, to guess what might happen if you don't heed his words and should have. 

The way you mumble to yourself anxiously and look around as you rub a gentle thumb on your swollen wrist, wincing every once in a while. 

It's all so entertaining to him. 

It seems like a million years have passed by the time you nod to yourself and place your foot gingerly on the path before pulling it back again, trying to hide the hiss that escapes you. 

Arrrggghhh. 

You bite your lip before turning to him again, "What happens?"

"What makes you think I'll divulge that information?"

"Shall we just stand here and wait for you to tell me?"

He shakes his head, "Nah, see this is what's going to happen."

You flinch when he bends down to your level, "You're going to make a decision and stick to it. If you change your mind, you'll see what else you have to deal with,” He glances at your wrist then back at you.

Keeping eye contact with him, you don't stutter as you respond back evenly, "Fine, but if I make the wrong one, you get to deal with me complaining the whole time."

He smirks and straightens up.

"Deal."

You turn away and look out into the distance, noting that the path just keeps going, further than you are able to see. 

No more dilly dallying. 

You get onto the path and start walking briskly, biting your bottom lip harshly as you try to imagine that you're walking on snow. So much snow. The coldest snow you've ever walked on, it's so cold that you really wish you could be walking on a hot dirt road in the middle of summer. 

Oh what you wouldn't give to walk on a blazing hot trail-

Your speedwalking picks up and before you know it, you're jogging. 

The jiggling on your left wrist is excruciating at first, but then it turns into a distraction from the burning ground under your poor bare feet. 

The end of the path is non-existent, stretching on and on.

I can do this...

I can do this...

I can do this...

I can do this-

____________________________

"Orabeoni!!!" 

Yoongi turns to see the small child responsible for the high-pitched squealing running towards him at full speed down the trail, hot dirt kicking up under her shoes. 

Her skirts are bunched in her tiny fists, just like they always are. Her hair is flying around her face even as she shakes her head to try and get it off so she can see. 

That's when he notices a lot of her hair is shorter than the rest of it. 

"____, what on earth happened to your hair-"

You barrel into him, wrapping your small arms around his waist as you continue to screech, "HE CUT MY HAIR! HE CUT MY HAIR-"

"Who-"

"APPLE!"

The older boy looks up to see your best friend running down the path, waving a pair of small shears in his hand, "APPLE I'M SORRY!" He's sobbing uncontrollably. 

Yoongi bites back a laugh as the small child catches up, his bottom lip trembling. 

"Well if it isn't the half-pint."

"I'm sorry Apple, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"

You stuff your face into your cousin's abdomen, trying your best not to cry at the loss of some of your beautiful hair. 

"What happened?" Yoongi kneels and lets you hug him as he gently takes the shears from the youngin still sobbing his head off. 

"I- I- I was trying to g-give Apple a pretty haircut-" his words get drowned out in his tearful sorrow when he sees your hair again. 

Yoongi chuckles, "Mm? And who came up with that idea?"

The tiny boy hesitates for a minute, only responding after Yoongi gives him a warning look to tell the truth. He points a shaky finger at the four year old in his arms, who still has yet to come out from hiding. 

"Apple," he whispers in a small watery voice. 

You finally turn to glare at him, "I didn't told you to make it ugly!"

Huge teary eyes stare back at you, "B-b-but you're not ugly, Apple-"

Yoongi bursts into laughter at the whole situation. 

Your face turns bright red at your best friend's words, "Really?" you whisper shyly. 

He nods enthusiastically, "You're pretty still."

"...honest honest?"

"Honest honest," his voice sounds congested as he wipes his runny nose with the back of his hand before wiping at his tears.

"He's right, ____. You still look beautiful, but we can fix it up, alright?" Yoongi assures you.

You nod. 

It was a bit strange being the only one in the town with short hair, but you grew to like it quite a lot. It was different, even though your mother was at her wits end when she found out. But hiding your short hair under a scarf was better than walking around with half of it cut off and the other half past your shoulder. 

No one really cared to look at the kids running around anyway, they didn't care to notice your hair was shorter than all the little boys. But your best friend never failed to remind you that you looked as pretty as always, while it was short and while it grew out. 

You had cried an apology to him a few hours later for being so upset with him for cutting it wrong, you had never meant to yell at your favorite person. He assured you it was okay while your aunt cut the rest of it off, always very mature for his age, even at five years old.

You could never hurt him, you would always be his lovely Apple, no matter what.

____________________________

You don't even register when you end up breaking into a full-on sprint down the path, constantly trying to get as much air into your lungs as you can while also trying not to focus on the horrible pain on the soles of your feet. 

At some point, it occurs to you that you still don't know if you're doing this pointlessly or not. You haven't tried to turn and ask. Honestly he's probably not even behind you anyway. He most definitely is waiting for you at the end of this road.  

If it even has an end. 

That thought makes your legs feel weaker than they already do, which starts to put a damper on your painfully hopeful spirit.

It has an end, ____. 

Everything has an end. 

Except for this place. 

The suffering here will never end for some.

You force those wretched thoughts out of your head. 

You don't need them, they won't help you at all. 

Even if they're true. 

You concentrate on making your legs go faster, ignoring the way they scream at you for a moment of rest. If you stop, your feet will most likely be burnt beyond repair. It's already nearly unbearable even as you run. 

Not gonna take that chance to stop. 

-

The end of the path does not bring the comfort you so foolishly thought it would. 

You saw the rusted gold come to an end, you saw the dirt, the relief seeping into your bones as it got closer and closer.

You didn't think you'd be able to keep it up much longer. 

Thank you. 

When you finally reach the end, you stumble onto the dirt, but immediately cry out and fall onto the ground, the majority of your weight going to your knees. The soles of your feet were so tender that the sharp plants and stones littering the ground were a hundred times more painful than they were before. 

You drop your head onto your arm as a cry bursts from your lips. Curling your legs up as you lay on the ground and cry, you feel your body shaking from the amount of pain you're in. 

"God- please-" you sob, clutching your wrist as you pray fruitlessly for the throbbing to stop. 

You only move from the fetal position for a moment, to throw up from the pain alone consuming you. 

"I c-can't take-" you cough so violently that it triggers another gagging fit. Nothing comes up though, there's nothing left in you to. 

After a few minutes, you just lay there numbly, attempting to ignore the horrible shakes controlling your body as you stare at the dirt that moves whenever you let out a breath. 

Nine circles...

Nine circles...

Fourth circle...

Nine circles...

Fourth circle...

Nine circles...

The thoughts spin endlessly in your foggy brain.

Eventually, you hear something. The sounds and sights around you start to become clear. 

You're still so out of it that you can't figure out what the sound is. It sounds like something heavy being rolled across the ground. 

Blinking slowly, you lift your head a little to see blurry figures that move around strangely.

A few seconds go by before you can see them. 

What you notice first, is the enormous stone structure a couple hundred feet in front of you. It looks like a giant temple that crumbled long ago, some of it still intact, but just barely. 

In the middle of the temple, is a golden statue. 

A chill runs down your spine. 

The huge statue looks like a muscled older man, naked with curly hair framing his face and a raggedy beard. He's crouching down in an almost goblin-like stance, limbs contorting grotesquely. 

The worst part of it is the fact that he's staring right into your soul, even from a distance you can see his piercing eyes clearly. 

You're frozen, too scared to even breathe. 

...Is it a statue?

You're expecting it to come to life and charge at you any second.

When an agonizing minute passes and it doesn't even twitch, you gulp. 

Then your eyes flit to the side to see the figures that were moving. Now you can see that there are people around the outside of the fallen temple; surrounding it. They're dressed in filthy rags that barely cover them at all. 

Now you know what the noise was. 

All of them are in pairs, standing about twenty feet apart and rolling giant boulders back and forth between each other. 

They are dead silent. 

The only sound is that of the stones rolling and rolling and rolling on the hard earth, never stopping, never giving the sinners a moment of rest. 

Not a single scream, not a cry of agony passes their lips. 

Their appearances make up for the lack of voices; muscles straining to the point of nearly tearing through the skin, sweat coating their bodies until they look like they've been dipped in oil, faces so exhausted the skin hangs in limp wrinkles, their eyes black and sagging. 

You close your eyes, heart aching deeply in your chest as you let your head hang. 

One tear falls to the ground before the silence is broken. 

"It's pointless crying for them."

He stands next to your smaller frame as you stay huddled on the ground. 

"They can't hear you pity them. You could walk right up to any of them and they'd never sense your presence, not even if you slapped them in the face," he chuckles as if he knows this from doing it himself. 

When he sees you look at him, he snickers, "If you think that's the worst I've done, you're wrong. They can feel it, but can't react."

The demon crouches close to you, points at one of them, and whispers, "The hoarder," then he points to the other of the pair that catches the boulder and proceeds to push it back, "And the wasteful."

You swallow the lump in your throat. 

"Look at how tired they are. I just know they're dying to scream, to find some way to make the pain lessen at all. Bet they're regretting being such greedy and selfish little bastards-"

"Stop."

He breathes out a laugh at your voice breaking in your pathetic attempt at ordering him around. 

"What? You don't enjoy knowing that they suffer so much more than you?"

You wipe at your eyes and clear your throat, "What do you get out of saying these things? Thinking these things? Like you said, they can't hear you." You turn to look at him, eyes darting between his, "Who are you trying to convince that they suffer more? Me or you?"

JK stares at you for a minute, glaring into your eyes, unflinching. 

You see him swallow a second before he looks away and stands up. 

"Get up."

You don't argue, knowing he'll just yank you up unkindly anyway if you hesitate. So, you struggle for a moment, but finally get to your feet, blowing out a puff of air when the sharp pain returns to your feet. 

He seems to get enjoyment from the pained whimper that slips out accidentally because of a wrong step. 

Staying true to his character, he leaves you to stumble after him as he makes his way straight towards the temple. 

You keep an eye on the statue that gets closer with each painful step. Not even the stone underfoot relieves the pain when you reach the structure. 

Just as he said, the sinners continue with their eternal punishment, unaware of the two of you passing through. 

At one point, the demon kicks a broken piece of the temple that was lying in his path. It rolls and hits one of the sinners in the ankle, immediately drawing blood that seeps into the ground, staining it red. 

The man doesn't react physically. 

You hear a low chuckle and clench your jaw, reminding yourself that you can do nothing to stop him from tormenting anyone he chooses. 

Stay strong, ____. 

Do not give up hope. 

I promised.

When the two of you reach the unsettling statue, you notice the treasure surrounding the bottom of it that you didn't see before. Piles of gold coins hold colorful gems and glittering jewelry, more than you've ever seen. The statue's eyes seem to follow your movement as you pass.

JK tries not to curse out loud when you merely glance at the pile of treasures, then continue limping away, unfazed. 

Fuck. 

So it isn't Greed.

She didn't even fucking hesitate.

There's no question about it, this circle is useless to him apart from breaking down your physical and mental determination.  

The way you move slowly, favoring your right foot particularly, gives him at least some satisfaction. 

-

Something that strikes you later is that it's starting to feel cold. 

It was hot earlier, disgustingly so.

But now there's an unsettling chill in the air, making you pull your cardigan around you more. 

The ground gets cold surprisingly fast. You can't tell if it makes your feet feel better or worse at this point. 

The stone structure is far behind now, nothing but desolate terrain ahead as far as you can make out in the dark. 

"Can we please stop?"

He keeps walking, kicking stones left and right as he goes. 

"Please," you call out, stopping where you are. 

The demon stops and turns to look at you, "What?"

"Can we please stop for a little bit?" You ask, pretty sure he's going to say no, but you really can't go on right now. 

He stares at you for a second, then you see his eyes drag down your body, all the way to your feet and then back up until he looks into your eyes again. 

"Fine."

You blink a few times.

"Huh?"

"I said fine," he snaps, "I already told you, it's you that decides how long we take. You can fuck yourself over as much as you want."

You turn away and look for something to sit on. 

There's a decent sized rock a few feet away, so you start hobbling over to it. It looks big enough that you might even be able to lay down on it if you curl up. 

What a relief.

But right before you get there, you feel him knock into your shoulder as he brushes past and sits on the rock. 

He leans back, putting his hands behind his head and lifting one of his legs to sit bent on the rock while the other one stays on the ground. He's too tall to fit on it all the way, but that doesn't seem to bother him. 

At your silence, he glances over to see you staring at him. You look tired and at a loss for what he's doing. 

"What?" He asks casually as you stand there stupidly, "Did you expect me to sit on the ground like an animal? How rude," he groans as he adjusts himself to be more comfortable. 

You're in too much pain to argue, and you're not about to risk getting another injury for crossing him. 

So, you turn and look around but can't see very well with how dark it is. 

As you limp around and try to find somewhere to sit, there's suddenly a sparking sound and you flinch; turning to see a fire has appeared. Just like in the cave, it doesn't appear to be sitting on anything, just hovering above the ground. 

You lift your gaze to see him sigh and shift on the rock again, his eyes closed, silently rubbing his satisfaction in your face. 

The light of the fire allows you to see his smug expression, but it also uncovers a small rock on the opposite side of the fire that you can at least sit on. 

Ha.

Bet he wasn't intending to do that. 

You go over to the rock and sit down gingerly, wincing at the hard surface against your bottom. 

At least it isn't the cold prickly ground. 

You sit there for a few minutes, just watching the fire crackle. 

When you're finally able to think clearly, you lift one of your feet to look at the bottom. Your stomach drops when you see the bloody mess you've been walking on for hours. 

After checking the other and seeing the same thing, you grab the end of your dress and start to tear at it. It doesn't take a lot for it to rip. 

The demon doesn't even twitch as you rip three good-size strips from the bottom of your dress. It's already ruined with mud and only Hell knows what else, no point in being disappointed. 

Gently brushing at the bottom of your right foot, you hiss quietly at the sting. You can't just wrap it up, it's muddy and has bits and pieces of sticks and leaves that'll leave it feeling far worse after an infection starts. 

If one hasn't started already. 

It takes a while, but you're able to clear most of the blood, sticks, and mud away enough to see the deep gashes that you can't do anything about right now. Wrapping it one-handed also proves to be a challenge; especially when you're perched on this stupid little rock, but you eventually get the white cloth wrapped around your foot, then slowly do the same to the left. 

By the time you're finished, your left wrist is pulsating with pain. 

You take the third piece of cloth you ripped off and start to carefully wrap your injured wrist. 

In the middle of doing so, you glance up and see him watching you. 

"What?" You ask.

He just smirks and closes his eyes again. 

You scoff and look back at the task at hand. 

"You're doing it wrong."

You drop the makeshift bandage, the rest of it hanging from your wrist as you look at him again, annoyance clear on your face. 

"Why do you care?"

"I don't."

"So stop," You mutter, then you grab the cloth again. 

"It's just annoying watching you be so incredibly stupid."

You grit your teeth. 

"Well, you're the one responsible for this," You hiss, "So, you can sit there and be annoyed for all I care."

"Ooh, grumpy."

You shake your head and go back to the bandaging. 

Don't let him get you riled up. 

You're just gonna feel worse-

"Ah! Ow!" You gasp in pain when he suddenly snatches your injured wrist and pulls it towards him as he stands over you, "What're you doing?!"

You hadn't even noticed him come over. 

"Just shut up," He mumbles, unwrapping what you already did and redoing it tighter. 

"Ah, stop, you're hurting me-"

"You're hurting yourself by writhing around, stop fucking moving."

You force yourself to stop moving, afraid he might make it worse if you don't listen. Then you look up and see the concentrated look on his face as he works, unconsciously getting lost in thought as you stare at him.

"You didn't make it tight enough. What the fuck is it gonna do if you just wrap it without any support? Idiot." He mutters angrily as he ties a tiny knot, then drops your hand.

You wince and pull your hand towards your chest, cradling it. 

He walks back over to his spot and sits down, glowering at the fire between you. 

You look down at your wrist, a small smile finding its way onto your face. 

It actually does feel better. 

A feeling of relief and maybe a little hope, settles in your body as you run your fingers along the bandage.

"Don't complain to me if you don't get enough rest by the time we need to move again."

You nod absentmindedly at his grumpy words, then you lower yourself to the ground and lay down. 

It's still cold and prickly, but the fire is nice and at least you've got your cardigan on to help with the sticks and rocks scattered about. 

You probably won't be able to sleep, but you can at least rest your eyes for a bit.

"How did you get to the entrance?"

Or not. 

You clear your throat, keeping your eyes closed as you respond, "I walked."

"No shit."

"You don't have to believe me, it doesn't affect me or what I'm doing," You remind him, yawning as you adjust your arm under your head. 

"What are you doing?"

A chuckle slips past your lips. 

"Why are you laughing?"

"You know," you mumble, "You have a lot of interest in someone you act like you couldn't care less about."

"Act?" He scoffs, "I don't care."

"Ok."

Silence stretches on for a few minutes. 

Then, "Why won't you just answer the question?"

You smile, "At this rate, I am gonna blame you for me not getting any rest."

You hear him scoff and mutter angrily to himself, the sound of him shifting around making you laugh quietly to yourself. 

After another minute, you open your eyes and look over to see him glaring up at the sky, his hands behind his head.

"Why are you so curious about me?" You ask, seemingly startling him for a second. 

Only a beat of silence before he answers, "Because nothing about you makes sense."

"I could say the same for you," You say quietly, watching his reaction. 

He turns his head and your eyes meet from across the flames still crackling lowly. 

"How do I not make sense? You know what I am."

"True."

He doesn't look away, which makes you feel a little nervous. 

You gulp and look down at your fingers, messing with a twig on the ground. 

"Wanna play a game?" You finally brave the question. 

When you hear him move, you look up to see that he's turned on his side to face you, propped up on his elbow as he looks at you carefully. 

"What game?"

"You can ask me whatever you want, and I have to answer-"

"Sounds good to me-"

"But," you continue, "If I do, then you need to answer one of my questions."

He narrows his eyes at you. 

"That's the game," you sit up on your elbow, mirroring his position, "If you wanna know something about me, I get something from you too."

JK pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, gnawing on it as he thinks about your proposition. 

"Fine, it's a deal."

You smile, "Deal."

"So," he leans back, keeping his eyes on you, "How did you get to the entrance?"

You bite your cheek, then you sigh, "If you really wanna know so bad. I was telling the truth before. I did a lot of research and knew where to find it, so I walked there. It's not as hard as people make it seem like."

Huh, he watches you carefully for a minute. 

"Fair enough," he mumbles, "But where did you get all of your information?"

"Ah ah ah," You wag your finger at him, "One question at a time. It's my turn."

"Fuckin' whatever," he groans and lays down, "Ask."

"How many souls have you stolen?"

He glances at you, then scoffs, "You could ask me anything and that's what you choose to ask?"

You nod. 

He rolls his eyes, "First of all, I didn't steal any of them. I took them as payment. The mortals make their own decision to give it to me in return for something or not."

"So? How many?" You press. 

"Thousands, I've lost count. My turn."

You sigh at his poor response, but you let him go anyway.

"Where did you get the information to find the entrance?"

"The Archive."

"What's that?"

"A library, full of things that a lot of people don't usually go looking for."

He glances suspiciously at you, but lets it go. 

"K, go ahead."

"What's your name?"

The demon barks out a laugh, "Why, you wanna summon me?"

You chuckle and shake your head, "Not in a million years."

He looks at you and you think you see a hint of a smile on his face before he smothers it. 

"JK."

"JK?" You repeat and he nods.

You swallow the lump in your throat and gesture at him to let him know he can ask now.

"How did you hear about the Flame of Immortality?"

"My best friend," You say immediately, then you clear your throat, "How long have you been here?"

JK looks at you in disbelief that you could ask such a stupid question. 

"Wait, you're serious?"

You nod. 

"You can't be that dumb."

"Just answer the question," you sigh. 

"Has it not fully sunk into your pea-brain yet that I'm a demon, sweetheart? I've been here since the beginning of Hell. Your mortal mind won't even be able to comprehend that amount of time, so don't even try."

You drop your gaze from his to the fire as he chuckles darkly. 

"Too bad you wasted your turn on that."

You lay down on your back and look up at the sky. 

All there is to see is thick black smoke, not a single cloud, not one little star shining in the dark. 

Nothing. 

"How did your best friend find out about it? She must have heard it from someone."

"He did, but he never told me who."

"He? Your best friend is a guy?"

"Yeah."

"Huh," he looks at the sky, "Does he know you're down here?"

"That's the third question you've asked," you say quietly, "It's my turn."

"Fucking- you're so damn slow, just ask whatever," he moans. 

“Did I make the right decision earlier to go on the path?”

“Yes. Were you really not affected by the treasure?”

“I have no interest in riches. What would have happened if I didn’t go on the path?”

He sighs and stretches one of his legs, groaning, “You would have wandered around, confused about what you were doing and where you were going. You would never have found your way out if I wasn’t there to direct you." He looks over at you, "Why do you feel for the prisoners here?”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because they chose to be here.”

“Yes, but none of them were born intending to make the decisions they made. Evil isn’t born, it’s made. I guess it just hurts my heart seeing people suffer, even if they chose it,” You pick at your nails, "I think I cry for the people they were supposed to be."

“Whatever mortal,” he sighs and looks back at the sky, “Your turn.”

You bite your lip before asking, "Why are you constantly trying to convince yourself that everyone here suffers more than you?" You watch him closely as he keeps his eyes upward. 

"Who says I do that?"

"That's not an answer."

"Well I don't. So I can't answer that-"

"Don't lie, it's against the rules-"

"And how the fuck you know I'm lying huh?" He snaps, "I said I don't, so stop acting like you need to expose me. I'm an open book, darling."

The way he says it is far from humorous.

"Ask a different question."

"That's not how it goes but whatever," you mumble, "Do you know any other demons here?"

"I know all the demons here. Does he know you're down here?"

"Who?"

"Your best friend."

"Yes and no."

"That's not a real answer-"

"Neither was yours-"

JK growls and sits up, "This is stupid. You keep changing the rules-"

"I do not!"

"What if I don't want to play your stupid game? What if I torture what I want to know out of you instead?"

"Then that's not something I can change. You'll do whatever you want to me anyway, right?"

He looks over at you to see you lay down and cross your arms, a grumpy look on your face.

After a minute, you turn on your side so your back is to him. 

He only hesitates for a second before calling over to you, "I wasn't done asking questions."

"Goodnight, JK."

Another few minutes pass in silence apart from the fire snapping periodically. 

"If he's your best friend, why would he make you come down here for him? Why is he sending you to do his dirty work?"

You sigh. 

"He can't do it himself."

"Why though? And why does he want the Flame-"

"Why do you think?" You turn to look at him, eyes filled with anger and grief, "Why would anyone want the Flame of Immortality? Do you think I want to be here, that I’m doing this for fun?"

"You made the decision to come here," he snaps. 

"Do you think I'd choose to come to this wretched place if it wasn't my only choice?"

"Why is it your only choice?" He stands up and walks over to the other side of the fire where you're still on the ground, "Why won't you just give up?"

"Because I can't!" You shout, "I'm not going to give up! I won't!"

"He's dying isn't he?" He whispers, a smirk pulling at his lips, "Your best friend who you're madly in love with is dying and you're doing this to save him."

Your watery eyes glare at him as you clench your jaw. 

"How utterly pathetic," he whispers in amusement, watching as a single tear rolls down your cheek. 

"You can taunt me all you want, demon. I won't stop until I get what I want."

"Even if you do get that Flame, what's your plan after that? It can only be used on one person. Is he really that much of a sorry ass that he'd take it and let you rot into old age?"

You swallow the huge lump in your throat. 

"Just shut up," you choke out. 

"What kind of pathetic bastard is this guy?"

"Please st-"

"And you," he laughs hollowly, "You're even more pathetic."

"I said shut up!" You struggle to your feet and get up in his space as much as you can, "I made a promise, and I'm going to keep it. He is waiting for me to save him and I'll be damned to HELL BEFORE I LEAVE HIM AGAIN!!!!" 

He just observes the tears streaming down your face as you shake with anger and sorrow. 

"Good," he finally spits, then he leans down into your face and snarls, "Because you voluntarily fucked yourself over, sweetheart. Give that Flame to your stupid little bastard friend, your ass is never leaving this place. Glad you finally figured that out."

He doesn't say anything more as you glare at him before turning and walking back to sit on the ground, your head falling into your hands as you burst into uncontrollable sobs. 

Eventually, you lay down again, but the tears don't stop. 

The fallen angel continues to sit on the large rock for hours, biting the nail on his thumb as he watches the mortal girl sobbing into her arms until exhaustion takes over her and she falls asleep, bare feet wrapped in bloody cloth tucked up under her torn skirt and hair matted and dirty. The anxiety and hopelessness is physically seeping from her. The despair will inevitably come.

She's starting to look like she belongs here.

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a/n: let me knnow what you thiiiink, next one will be longer than this sorry she was so short T-T tysm for reading

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