#this is exceptionally mean spirited guys

[katatonicimpression]

It's the middle of the afternoon on New Year's Eve and I have fuck all to do so let's watch the Sam episode of What If?

DISCLAIMER: This is the first, and so far only, full episode of this show that I have ever watched. It did not inspire me to watch more. So, that's my bias I guess.

Background

There was some controversy about all of this. Sam appeared briefly in the zombies episode in the first season of this show. He's already a zombie and is quickly killed (re-killed?) by bucky, who makes a quip about it.

The line feels kinda off, like they're trying to recreate the banter between the characters in the live action (finding each other annoying etc) but it falls flat. There's no love there. In civil war (which takes place before the canon divergence in the show), their banter still has a level of camaraderie to it. They're riffing off each other, and fighting together and saving each other. It's weird to have bucky quip at the prospect of sam's death in a scene that takes place after those scenes.

It feels like reading one of the thousands of "incorrect quotes" posts on this app that write Bucky being horrible to Sam for no reason. It's the exact same emotional experience. Put a pin in that.

There was another controversy related to this, which is that in the same episode, Sharon also dies. Allegedly, one of the main writers (matthew chauncey) said that they should give her a particularly violent death because "no one likes her... he belongs with peggy". This is an open expression of violent misogyny so yeah that's fun. What a piece of shit... allegedly.

Sam does not appear in any other episode of what if s1. When s2 came out, his absence felt conspicuous, and many people commented on it. In particular, there's an episode of s2 that is vaguely medieval/robin-hood vibes, and Sam is noticeably absent from Steve's band of merry men. Steve's best friend, closest partner of over 50 years of comics isn't there. The falconry themed superhero is not in the medieval episode. People rightfully called bs.

The show felt similar to reading posts and fics in the fandom, and the way that people will minimise Sam's existence in Canon. Put a pin in that.

One person involved in making it (I think a writer but I can't remember and I searched for like ten minutes it's NYE gimme a break) responded publically to these complaints. They cited a supposed uncertainty over sam's future in the mcu (specifically whether he was cap or falcon) as a reason for not including him.

This was very funny, because 1) There was no ambiguity over whether Sam would be cap - it was a dead cert since Endgame what are you on? and 2) no one would've been mad if Sam had appeared as Falcon.

This response had the same vibes as when random fans say weird and ignorant things in Sam's tag and, when confronted, will offer weird excuses that don't make any sense. Pin it.

The other bit of context here is the (admittedly heavy) discussion of how What If launched Captain Carter, a decision that had to have been made around the same time that they decided to do samcap. I've talked before about this; it's complicated and the discourse is annoying. But ultimately, it comes across very badly for the mcu that they created a white female british captain america (not captain britain from Excalibur, but specifically a captain america character) specifically to launch near simultaneously with a Black captain america. It looks bad and I don't like it.

Anyway, so after this person who's name i can't find put their foot in their mouth, Marvel released a few stills from s3, revealing that Sam would be in one episode. People were happy to see him, and (aside from the VERY VALID CRITIQUE that WhatIf!Sam doesn't have the eyelashes he so clearly ought to) people were mostly placated.

The Episode

I love mark ruffalo but his voice performance in the opening scene is not it. Also the narration is mixed a lot louder than the dialogue... which is a jarringly amateur mistake. Ok whatever i'm gonna try to keep my salty complaining sam-focused

So, the show opens with a version of the opening samsteve meetcute from CATWS. But this time, without a mutual exchange of vulnerability. This time Sam is just offering Bruce comfort.

Then he literally gives him therapy.

Then he takes him to Louisiana to the boat, a redo of the sambucky scenes in tfatws. I'm not the first person to point this out, but there's a big difference here. Bucky came to louisiana uninvited with a (technically unwanted, but still very impressive) gift for Sam and then spent the day working on the boat as a gesture of friendship. He was performing acts of service (or however you express it) because he wanted to preserve and nurture this relationship. He knew he'd treated Sam badly and wanted to make it up to him.

Then, Sam invited him to stay the night (or, rather, accepts bucky's self-invitation to sleep in his house), because he's nice and welcoming and generous yes sure. But also because he likes Bucky back, despite everything. They both want to be friends and partners.

That's not happening here. It's just Sam offering Bruce his home because he is apparently motivated by a desire to help random white men he meets.

It reminds me of the countless fics and hcs that write Sam exclusively as a caretaker and therapist for bucky or other white characters. It reminds me of the takes that rewrite canon to make him be the one to pursue bucky with a desire to help and nurture him - a thing that has never happened in canon. Urgh. Pin that thought up with the others.

Oh and of course, we can't have a story about samcap without paying tribute to our holy special boy steve for a bit. Whatever it was just a few overly long shots.. still annoyed me though. Wow I really am a hater.

Oh and Bruce is the one with the arc? He's the one the episode is about? But his change of heart happens entirely off screen and with no implicit turning point? Lol. Lmao even.

And "friends who accept us for who we really are." I want to take this entire writers room aside because no. You can't end with a thesis statement that wasn't the theme of the story. Go back to school.

Am I Nothing but Negativity?

It was nice to see sarah again! Shame all she got to do was scream then get violently shoved to the floor.

Ok but in general, once the episode gets started in earnest, it's fine.

I did genuinely like seeing Sam again. I like him in the lead, even if the episode was about Bruce, Sam was still the main character and that was fun to see.

Mackie's voice performance is strong.

I enjoyed the 0.0003 seconds of sambucky. I liked seeing Sam and Monica together.

"The man wants to have tea with Lenin." This line is so bad it's good again. Yeah he probably would. And he'd be fine. Vlad would love the guy, everyone does.

I like the visual of Sam facing down a giant kaiju and just chatting to it. That's very sam coded. That and Sam with the shot of the monsters walking past him and him standing strong.

What is the Point of this Show?

There's nothing spectacular in this episode. The dialogue is astoundingly predictable, the jokes fail to be funny.

At times, the animation style (much like TDP which recently finished) feels like it's holding them back. A lot of the quieter, less actiony, shots are ugly frames with people walking less naturally than sims do. And they do have some more expressive stuff in the busier scenes, so it's not artistically empty, but it's not doing a lot for me either.

Maybe it's an interesting technique for those who know more about these things, but honestly regular 2d animation would've been (i assume) cheaper and potentially better. Then again, if it wasn't visually distinctive, what else would it have going for it?

Conceptually, a mcu what if show is an amazing idea, but in practice IN MY VERY BIASED OPINION, it's done very little with that potential. The comics offer such a rich trough of ideas that could be spun into very entertaining short episodes with versions of the characters that would otherwise not be able to encounter those story beats. Hell, Sam in particular has an entire massive part of his character cut from the mcu (his powers) that they could explore... and that would be really well suited to animation!

But they've stuck to the comparatively shallow mcu lore for most of it.

I've seen people express disappointment that it's ending after only 3 short seasons and I see why. This is obviously the sort of thing that you could do so much more with. But I also feel that the writing is uninspired and betrays a real lack of interest in the worlds of most of these characters.

I Hate its Vibes

So let's take a look at those pins, shall we?

We have:

Ignoring Sam most of the time

Mischaracterising his relationship with Bucky

Writing him as a caregiver, a nurturing therapist only

A lack of an internal world and motivations beyond his desire to help others

Ignorance over his character's history including his powers and the depth and longevity of his relationship with steve

Nonsensical excuses when faced with criticism, unintentionally displaying even more ignorance and incuriosity over the character

I mentioned that writers comment about sharon earlier for a reason. The vibes are not good. They are rancid. They are reminding me of every dumb post I've ever read on this site. Every weird jab at the character for stupid, racist reasons. Every fic with the "magical negro" trope. Every moron i can think of tbh.

Yeah, so maybe I'm not being fair to this show. The episode was uninspired, but not bad. I liked seeing sam do things. If people gif him looking cool in it, I'll reblog it I guess. But I'm not gonna watch the rest of the show, and I won't mourn the fact that it's ending.

I guess my conclusion is that it's very funny that Marvel placated disgruntled sam fans with a still from this episode, and then when it finally comes out, it's everything we've ever complained about.

[velvetdolor]

♰𖣐♰ 𝔇𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩’𝔰 ℭ𝔞𝔱𝔠𝔥. | i.

Chapter i. “We who are forged from Iron and Blood.”

pairings: exorcist!hongjoong x psychic!reader (some ot8 x reader but heavily focused on hongjoong.) ot8 x reader

genres: 18+!! paranormal, religious horror, fantasy, suggestive, SMUT, stupid-yet-gifted friend group trope lol

chapter word count: 7.8k

summary: “the order” is a secret organization of exorcists blessed with special abilities dedicated to expelling higher class demons—located in a ancient crypt hidden beneath the vatican. when an exceptionally gifted child is followed by prophetic omens and falls into possession of an unclassified s-class demon—kim hongjoong, considered one of the greatest exorcists of the 21st century, is dispatched under the mysterious order of convincing an enigmatic psychic hiding away in a metropolis to accompany he and his team in what might be their most daunting exorcism yet.

series warnings: strong language, religious allegories, lots of talk about religious trauma (some of it may be sacrilegious in nature, so if you aren’t comfortable with that please keep that in mind before reading!) exorcisms, possession, sacrificial rituals, alluded mentions of ableism (specifically regarding blindness, as one of the main characters discusses his experiences as a blind man/his background and talks about the process of losing his sight in detail), light mentions of alcohol, suggestive content, horror, angst, child possession, intense imagery, hallucinations, light amount of self inflicted wounds, violence, blood, and gore. additional warnings will be provided for each chapter. (story is marked as 18+ due to the descriptive elements of horror and suggestive scenes.) Smut warnings will be chapter specific.

series masterlist author masterlist next >

authors note: hey guys, siren here—i’m back AGAIN with another series because i can’t resist writing a new story the moment it hits me (even though i already have five different works in progress…but they’ll get done when it feels right to release them yannnoo.) again, this will most likely be a series! so here’s chapter i!

important notice: wanted to note that reader descriptions/ strega are remaining racially ambiguous and there will be little to no anatomical descriptions regarding her body type, skin color, and hair texture/type! since this is a reader insert, i want it to be as inclusive as possible. :) i encourage you to use your imagination!

here’s a spotify playlist i made for this series if you want something to listen to get the vibe/ambiance!

giving you a heads up that this chapter is going to be super hefty, information wise. it’s also unedited…so pls forgive any mistakes! :)

[i. We who are forged from iron and blood.]

** The reader is sometimes referred to as La Strega, literally meaning the witch/witch.

You nonchalantly light a cigarette in the midst of the ominous quiet, already knowing what the priest standing before you is going to say. The spirits’ whispers flood the room—words indecipherable to most and unheard by all the men standing in your strangely baroque yet decrepit apartment, with the exception of you.

It bears a rustic antiquity with its minimal and semi-broken pieces of furniture, wood and paint chipping off the dark sage green surfaces of most objects and walls in the room—simultaneously ugly and beautiful depending on which direction you’re looking at it from. The only sound available to them is the squeaking of your leather-gloved hands as they move to plant the lighter back onto the table.

Whatever question leaves his mouth will likely send you to your grave if you were to accept, the spirits warn. You scoff lightly, humored that the strangely handsome priest—who you were, at most, four inches shorter than—gazed at you with uncertainty, gauging and attempting to unveil why he was ordered to convince some no-name psychic to accompany his beloved sector in exorcising a foreboding evil. You couldn’t blame the guy. Here were some of the greatest exorcists of our century, trying to recruit a shabby inner-city psychic who shoddily advertised her $10 palm-reading specials on a bright, buzzing neon sign hung on the sidelines of the apartment entrance.

However, that’s exactly why you did it: to fly under radars and only have to expend your energy on reading the likelihood of infidelity on a beautiful woman’s palms—one who tragically fears the disloyalty of her ugly and terribly mediocre husband. (For her own good, you prayed she’d get divorced.)

You already know why Hongjoong’s here, but you opt to wait patiently for him to say something—anything, really.

Seven other priests are scattered throughout your living room. You roll your eyes after gathering that they were sent by The Order, having caught the name among the light whispers falling from several spirits’ teeth. Some lean against your living room walls or the large pillars scattered across the spacious apartment, stifling their yawns. Others, like Yunho—you vaguely recall his name—stand elegantly poised and would appear nearly cherubic were it not for the unsettling crackling of energy radiating from his body.

Hongjoong tugs at the fitted collar of his black cassock, a strange rattle emitting from his neck that draws your attention to an ornate and slim black choker resting against his skin. Your eyebrows raise in interest at the sigils carved with precision into the durable leather, but the fabric of his cassock quickly returns to its resting place above the line of his pulse.

Hongjoong finally pushes out the words, unsure, fiddling with his fingers and squeezing his palms before releasing:

“Are you the one the clergy refers to as La Strega?”

Your cigarette hisses as you pull smoke into your mouth, inhaling deeply before readjusting your crossed legs, eyes squinting. “Depends on the clergy, but yes—that was one of my many… pseudonyms.”

Hongjoong’s eyes settle onto yours. The depths of his irises hold an allure that seems to draw you in. You hold his gaze before tilting your head down toward your ashtray, tapping the cigarette filter to flake off the ash from its ember.

“Whatever it is they sent you to ask me to do—the answer is no, Exorcist,” you say, sighing briefly.

He doesn’t waste a beat before uttering a singular phrase that pauses you mid-inhale.

“A child.” He rolls his tongue against the silky walls of his inner cheek, eyeing you with a mild distaste that quickly leaves him.

“A child?” You squint at Hongjoong, your head pounding as the whispers reach the precipice of overwhelming you with their intense shift in volume. The phrases thrown at you get harder and harder to decipher, all simultaneously said and nauseatingly layered over one another. They only get louder after his uttering of that small phrase, and you fight the urge to clutch your head.

“I’ll be honest with you, Strega. I’m unsure why I’ve been dispatched to find you—and only you—but I know The Order would not have us search for you without reason. I assume you know enough about The Order to understand that the existence of an unrecorded S-class demon is alarming. The fact that it’s latched onto an exceptionally spiritually gifted child who isn’t even old enough to attend school yet is all the more strange.” Hongjoong takes a deep breath and sighs out neutrally—not harboring any particularly negative feelings toward you, approaching the task objectively.

The spirits around you whisper of the child’s gifts and whose eye he’s caught. Your own eyes widen for a moment at the information, and your cigarette snuffs out entirely in your stillness. One in particular delivers a message from a divine:

“Fate has its eye on you, Strega. It will not blink nor turn away. Whatever direction you take—you must remember this. Heed our warning, prophetess. You will be fated to die a horrible death should you cross paths with the young boy, for the weight of his gifts is too disruptive to the balance of this realm. He is unnatural.”

You applaud your ability to school your expression completely, remaining vacant despite the onslaught of ominous messages, as the spirits continue to speak:

“The child’s existence will be marked as prey to any straggling energies, big or small. Should he choose to fight to exist, he will be fighting for the rest of his predictably short life.”

Blinking slowly and turning to Hongjoong, you offer him a genuine yet morbid reply.

“Listen, as genuinely tragic as this is to say—if the kid’s already emitting energy to this caliber, this will not be the last time he will be a victim to the hand of fate. I find no joy in accepting an innocent child’s death, but the kind of life one has to live after capturing divinity’s interest is cruel. He will be possessed again and again until he can find a way to control and collect his gifts. But he is far too young—and all the more likely to lose himself completely in the haze of constant possession and returning to the self. It may be better for him to die and hope for better luck the next time his soul comes around.”

The words don’t feel… right. As you mutter them, you can feel the strange clicking and clacking from within your soul—intuition fighting against your declining his plea. Your compass is pointing you due north, straight toward a predisposed death.

But you do not fear death, not by a long shot.

You fear what comes after—knowing there are thousands, possibly millions, waiting for your soul’s arrival at either of the gates. And it won’t be pretty. However, there’s no ignoring the fact that the only reason an entity of that caliber would have slipped through the gates at all was because you chose to abandon your duty to The Order many moons ago.

Hongjoong tilts his head, as if trying to get a read on you.

“You must have faith that God is on our side—” he starts, before you interrupt him.

“Hongjoong, do you honestly believe that they—” you point upward, not referencing the ceiling “—care about all of this? They don’t. They have little to no desire to interfere with human lives and have no hand in your religions. I know this to be fact. The Order blindfolds you all into believing that.”

There’s a sudden small light that appears behind your eyes, Hongjoong notes. A magnificent, covert presence slips through the sudden cracks in your previously immaculate wall of defense and concealment—by a centimeter, but he feels it. Recognizes it. Gazes at you in shock. Every man in the room straightens their back and instantly awakens from their exhaustion, recognizing the strangeness of the presence seemingly hosted from within you.

Before anyone can react, a sudden knock on your door swivels every head in the room toward the entrance of your apartment. The spirits quiet completely, and you dread the fact that it wasn’t the mailman delivering the vintage Cesare Paciotti Lady Black high heels you’ve waited months for and expected to arrive today.

Slow and small knocks knuckle at the thick wood of your door, steadily building momentum into an unnervingly fast banging that makes the door tremble under its force.

The ornate sigil you etched onto your door years ago begins to burn a bright orange—and you widen your eyes at Hongjoong.

“Stay back, all of you. Stay behind the pillars—whatever is at the door isn’t something to be taken lightly.” Sigils began to appear on the pillars, the sounds of small sizzles indicating their sudden burning onto their surfaces as they glowed a deep maroon.

Hongjoong shakes his head, keeping his voice methodical and low, calm yet firm. “Strega, I don’t doubt the strength of your abilities, but I do not know your abilities. Seonghwa—” he calls to a strikingly cold beauty. Seonghwa immediately moves forward and reaches a hand toward the back of his neck, clenching his fist—and to your amazement, a sword is pulled from the base of his spine. The air grows cold as Seonghwa mumbles an ornate prayer in Latin.

Everyone else falls into the muscle memory of their formation as elements fill the air—electricity sparking from the tips of Yunho’s hair as he stands upright, flanking Hongjoong’s left, while a fair-skinned, fairy-like boy with a heart-shaped birthmark near his left eye places his palms onto the floor.

Your expression stiffens at the onslaught of energy surrounding you, an ominous feeling drifting through the air, almost foreboding. They were strong, yes—unquestionably so—but you could hear how the spirits expected their untimely deaths should they intervene. They were rarely wrong.

“Stay back, exorcists. I do not doubt the magnitude of your strength and abilities—but this is something you have never encountered.”

The spirits are screaming—some of the ancestral guides that accompanied the priests, unbeknownst to them, are pleading to you:

‘Do not allow them to interact with the being behind that door. They are not meant to die here—it isn’t their time. Please protect our boy.’ One motions to the man with bangs falling into his asymmetrical eyes, hair kissing the nape of his neck, with a distinct mole on his face. He donned feline features with an irrational fire already burning behind his eyes, tightening his fists as if readying his rage for the fight—he seemed the least priest-like of the group, and you fleetingly wonder what led him down the thorny path.

“Forgive me for this, but when I tell you to close your eyes and kneel, you must do so,” you instruct. Immediately, a pearlescent light raises and widens itself from the ground toward the ceiling, creating a makeshift wall behind the pillars.

The mahogany wood of your door begins to splinter as the slams against it intensify, and you can feel a rabid desperation radiating from just beyond the other side of the wall. Inhaling deeply, you roll the sleeves of your thin turtleneck up to reveal an innumerable amount of scarring on the entirety of the skin stretching across your forearms—above what looks to be a complicated series of tattooed and scarred sigils. You quickly throw off your gloves to reveal sigils scarred grotesquely onto your palms and two large ones tattooed at the base of your forearms.

Just as the door breaks away from its hinges—the protective sigil on the remaining base of the wood fizzles out after its fight to give you enough time. You run to grab a kitchen knife and proceed to stab it into your skin abruptly enough to draw blood, turning it slightly to create a small but elongated gash.

The priests watch in horror as the act seems to bring forth the presence originally merely sleeping within you—an overwhelming power permeates the room, its force mentally disorienting enough to make them want to claw at their skin. They are left confused as to why they’re scrambling to cover their ears despite not hearing anything but the sound of the door falling onto the floor.

Once you’ve awakened him, you quickly pull a protective mental wall over his presence from within you—the boys are keeled and hunched on the floor, trying to catch their unstable breaths at the sudden calm.

When they look up, they are greeted with nothing. That is the first dangerous sign. This is an entity that doesn’t need a physical body to cause this amount of damage. But the presence of a shadow slinking its way over the rubble of the door, leaking with an unpleasant aroma and miasma, appears. You stare at the beast’s true form—the form the boys don’t have the ability to see with their naked eyes, only a sliver of the shadow it casts visible to them.

It is grotesque, to say the least—an array of human limbs ripped from their bodies waves from where they are oddly placed on its centipede-like form. You can hear the faint screaming of its victims fall through its mouth as it wheezes, mimicking its most recent victim to disorient any of those who can hear it. Limbs limp while its body drags itself toward you and the others you stand in front of. You hear a faint gasp—the blind priest, San, stares straight at the anomaly in front of you. The pale blue of his eyes moves in their sockets quickly, seeing in ways that do not require sight. You could end this quickly, of course, but that would only leave you with questions. The spirits in the room exclaim in confusion and horror, while others remain quiet—recognizing the abomination making its way toward you.

A palpable contempt fills your body and you recognize the source of the rising emotion stems from your guardian’s disgust for ‘lower’ life forms—your guardian’s predisposition means there’s no avoiding his superiority complex. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sigh. You’ll just have to talk to the horrified spirits later. While they may be dead, they flutter about the earth due to their loyalties to their attachments, and can, in turn, still feel many things. You didn’t understand how people believed in Gods but didn’t acknowledge how divine human connections truly are—it is, in fact, the only thing that truly protects us while we’re in the world of the living.

The abomination speaks—no, groans in that unsettling mimicry of agony as it addresses you.

“I bear this burden for the coming of our King—I crawled to this atrocious land with orders to kill the small fry behind you, witch. Your sigils will do nothing and I will grant you a quick death rather than what my nature has the inclination to do,” referring to the torn limbs attached to its body.

You smile lightly as a small light begins to dazzle behind your eyelids, nostalgic to the familiarity of hosting your guardian within your body—awakening him to an unsavory sight. You laugh a bit at the annoyed tone he greets you with.

‘Stupid girl, I thought you wanted peace?’

“Well, yes—and I still do. A couple of exorcists from The Order came and… well, you’ll know the moment you’re fully awake. It’s in your nature to know things after all, Raziel.” You utter softly, a strange breeze pushing some strands of your hair forward. “—but we’ll talk later. I simply wanted to wake you up so that we’d have the chance to figure—” you wave an arm toward the odd-looking demonic centipede “—this out.”

‘No, you simply had the audacity to wake me up to something so ugly, but I digress. For now.’

The priests are curling their bodies to the floor once more—groaning at the overwhelming pressure invading the living room. You hear the youngest priest scream, “For fuck’s sake, what’s going on?!” in anguished confusion. You pitifully eye them and suck in a guilty breath as blood begins to drip from their ear canals, probably caused by the fact that they’re in the presence of Raziel’s unfiltered voice—though they cannot hear him.

Immediately choosing to focus on the task at hand so that you don’t accidentally contribute to the unnecessary murders of what you’ve just seen to be the most gifted exorcists of the modern world to date, you place your efforts into drawing blood from a specific sigil.

The creature sends a horrendous screech your way, taking the form of a cacophony of layered voices accompanied by a strange wailing that has the same effect as banging metal pots against each other.

“You—” it squirms. “Why is a divine host here?!—”

“Close your eyes now! For the love of God, don’t open them until I tell you to.” You quickly bellow at the men, and despite how heavy their limbs feel, they find it in themselves to tightly shut their eyes and press their palms against their faces for extra coverage. Immediately, their stomachs begin to churn, and Hongjoong thinks he faintly hears Mingi vomiting somewhere behind him—even through the harsh ringing threatening to burst their eardrums. Hongjoong grits his teeth and pushes to yell out to his team, “Turn away and keep your eyes closed no matter what!”

A blinding white light fills the entirety of the apartment, almost as clear in its brightness to him as staring straight at a light fixture would be despite his greatest efforts. He hears the unsavory sounds of the creature gurgling and cursing in different languages, uttering one final phrase that makes his blood run cold before the air goes still once more.

‘Cursed angels.’

“…You can open your eyes now,” you mumble cautiously. San moves his palms away from his eyes but cradles his head shakily. “That was the strongest energy I’ve ever sensed before.”

Hongjoong crawls over to him in concern, looking at you before explaining slowly, “San is only ‘blind’ in the physical realm—though he cannot see with his eyes, he is able to ‘see’ everything as… energy of sorts. His and our concepts of witnessing life are vastly different—even though he tried his best to ‘close his eyes.’ He probably felt whatever that was astronomically more than the rest of us. I suppose it makes more sense to say that his sight is derived directly from his third eye at all times. That’s his gift.”

He holds San by his shoulder, meaning to comfort him without overwhelming. Wooyoung lays flat on his back, arms cradling his stomach. “I think I’m gonna hurl.”

Mingi begrudgingly mumbles, “Guess I beat you to it.”

The rest of the men aren’t in any better condition—most trying to regulate their nervous systems, some leaning against each other, and others cradling the walls or pillars.

Seonghwa still maintains his cold and calculating expression before turning to gaze deeply into your irises, as if searching for a semblance of an answer himself but frustratingly not coming to any conclusion. “Strega, I believe we deserve some sort of explanation about what just happened.”

You hold his stare before turning to pull a chair to sit before them all with a sigh. “You may have heard him refer to me as a ‘divine host,’ correct? Though your senses may have been too occupied.”

Raziel’s voice flows into your consciousness as if he were an extension of your very own thoughts.

‘Fate doesn’t seem to like you at all, child. Even I feel a sort of pity for you. Will you bear the burden of telling them the blood-stained truth?’

You squint your eyes and glare at the air in front of you, wanting to reply but opting not to. God, this isn’t fair.

Why did it always have to be you? Responsibilities that you’ve never asked for always come crashing in—the constant whiplash, emotional weariness, the scars you have to inflict on yourself and endure in order to hold dangers at bay. At the end of the day, one thing remains true: it always had to be taken care of by you.

Everyone remains silent, signaling you to continue.

“If I were to explain everything to you in intense detail, it would reshape the entirety of what you currently know of the world and of your gifts—understand that what you hear is likely to throw you into a corrosive pit of despair and hatred, however pure your intentions are. It may not be your time to understand, but I cannot move forward in this conversation without unveiling a horrid truth. All else will have to wait, since the rest will take an immense amount of time to relay—and the education I was given had taken years to learn.”

You see Jongho straighten up, immediately wanting to hurl questions your way, and you don’t blame him. But he halts immediately when Yunho holds a hand up and shakes his head at him.

“Not now, Jong. Let her speak, and we’ll ask questions later.”

You take a deep breath before continuing, clamping your trembling fingers in an attempt to keep still. You needed to steel yourself completely if you were going to be the one to reveal their reality, and your heart squeezed as you gazed at them. You didn’t know them at all, but you knew this—the men they came as today will not be the ones who leave your apartment. You… you’re the one who will steal the last of their remaining innocence. You mask your nausea with an unreadable expression.

“Now tell me, boys, heed my warnings—as our entwined tales reek of blood and iron. Do you still wish to know? How far will you go to save this child, who you may see as a reflection of yourself, after knowing what I wish to tell you? He is unnatural, yes—but so are we. The extent of The Order’s ambition is bloody and heavy in their pursuit of fighting against an inevitable apocalypse. Contrary to popular belief, while we were born of a god's creation, he has grown an animosity toward our existence.

The only reason the human race still exists is because we are a means of entertainment for those up high—we are God’s favorite gamble, and so he neither aids us nor eradicates us, to see what ending we eventually fall to. His interest lies in seeing how long we can fight for our very existence. The Earth is his colosseum, and we are his gladiators.

The Order knows that we cannot fight as ordinary humans or with mere divinations and lukewarm abilities. The only way we can fight monsters is by creating them—becoming them. I can’t say that I don’t see the point in what they do, however, they too have fallen to god complexes—choosing who lives and dies.

Tell me now, do you still wish to know?”

A part of you wishes they’d say no or ask for more time, but you know this would not be the case. And so yet again, you simply wait.

An uneasy silence pervades the room. Even the spirits listen with bated breath and sympathy for what’s to come—the ancestors accompanying the men in secret shake their heads fervently, knowing the despair that will follow the unforgiving truth. You glance at them briefly in subtle apology, but it wasn’t their choice to make.

The men feel their stomachs churn, intuitively knowing that whatever you’d tell them will twist their fates entirely. Glances are thrown across the room toward each other, trying to reach a consensus in the choked-up silence.

Hongjoong is the first to speak. There’s a strain to his voice you don’t fail to hear.

“I’m afraid, Strega.” His eyes were unbearably clear and strong. He did nothing to hide his emotions, and somehow that made him the strongest in the room.

“But I know in my heart that the truth exists whether or not we acknowledge it. As exorcists, we must bear the burden of facing the secret and omnipresent horrors of this world. It is both our blessing and our curse.”

As if his words brought strength to his team, they looked at their leader and found the resolve to agree. You feel yourself choke on the words that leave you. Revisiting this old ache yourself didn’t make this any easier.

“I will not lie to you. The cruel reality of what The Order is built upon will likely rip at your loyalties. I know what it’s like—I, too, saw family in the High Priests. The utter care with which they attempt to nurture us, almost as payment for what they themselves have taken away from us as children without our knowing.

To foster us in ignorance for the sake of a better world, but we didn’t choose this. In many ways, they are no better than the god that holds us as if we were pairs of dice. Understand that the child is in the same position as we were—in terms of falling victim to the greater forces wanting to play with our lives—and that if any one of you were to leave your positions, another child would have to replace you.”

The facade of calm on your face begins to crumble, and Seonghwa’s own expression grows uneasy at the sight, suddenly unsure if he wants to hear this any longer, but says nothing for the sake of the others powering through their fear.

“I’m unsure why The Order sent you all to me—what you just witnessed is under strict confidentiality, and my existence isn’t supposed to be known by most, with the exception of the council of High Priests. I was trained, educated, and raised alone—unlike you and the other exorcists of your clergy.

They molded me into the perfect militant dog that would unquestionably work itself into exhaustion because of the devotion I held for them, as they were the only humans I had the chance to interact with after my brief childhood.

It’s easy to say that my attachment to my… role was unhealthy, but it all changed when I came across a strange book. I’m unsure how I came across it, really, but depending on who sent you—I can finally unveil who tried their best to expose the truth of my existence to me. I suspect that they sent you here in secret to expose the truth to you all, as they did for me.

Maybe it’s so that whatever decision you all make moving forward is an informed one—so that you have a choice, no matter what consequences and sacrifices you face.”

You’re shaking now, moving your arms to embrace yourself, and feel yourself drift far into the dark abyss of your memories.

Raziel speaks quickly.

‘Breathe, child. You are strong—remember this.’

Nodding, you continue to push through.

“Since childhood, I have acted as both a portal and defender of the gates to the ‘other world’ up until I left the Order. Whatever you exorcised, I ensured it remained locked away. Demons, spirits—anything you exorcised would have had to pass through my body in order to return to whatever realm it came from.

It’s not to say that exorcisms wouldn’t be possible without a person to act as a vessel or have my ability, but this process made it immensely easier. It was the best way to ensure the spirit was fully returned. Though lower-class demons tend to perish during exorcisms, this isn’t often the case with higher classes.

My role was similar to the Ferryman who steered the skiff and carried souls to the underworld in Greek myths. The skiff—meaning small boat—is my body. Yes, the souls could swim and take the journey back home themselves if the exorcism was well-performed and fully severed any trace of their existence from our realm. But the time it’d take for them to reach their destination could muddle the process if I weren’t there.

It also comes with the risk of the entity psychically attaching to something else if the veil is thin enough, especially for stronger ones. This leads us to the next part. Are you still with me?”

The fairy-like boy, Yeosang, looks at you with pale wonder. “How is that even possible?”

Smiling sadly, you utter, “…For a multitude of reasons, but I still don’t fully understand it either.”

San stares at you with pale eyes—the closest mimicry of the colors that washed across the expanse of the Aegean Sea you’ve ever seen. His abilities, though the weakest in terms of offense, were still in some ways the most dangerous depending on how he utilized them—all the more so if paired with a strategic mind.

“Strega, what is it that you host inside of you?”

Softly, his words carry the weight of a premonition, and you feel the shifting tides of the conversation to come. For now—this is the last and the hardest stretch of the race. The choice is here, and you were the one to deliver the fatal blow.

“I would need to explain how exorcists are truly made before I can tell you that—and this will not be easy for me to relay to you, so please understand that this fate was also mine.”

Yunho catches the detailing of your words, his eyebrows curling together in confusion. “What do you mean by made?”

At this point, you’ve bitten the skin of your lip raw. You notice how Wooyoung’s eyes widen in fear, a strange emotion of denial dawning on his face, but you don’t have it in you to acknowledge it just yet without pulling through the task.

Swallowing hard, you exhale before continuing.

“Exorcists aren’t born with their abilities. The process of choosing which child is a candidate for being initiated into The Order starts with a psychic gift—those who show potential and natural skill.

In order for an exorcist to be made, a ritual of mass sacrifice must be conducted by the council of High Priests—but it comes at a hefty price, Yunho. It wasn’t coincidence that you all became orphans, nor was it fate—”

As their expressions slowly distort into ones of anxious confusion, your breathing grows heavy with grief.

“—S-special children who exhibit psychic prowess are… selected by The Order—and they are able to be located by an individual who bears a gift they call ‘The Eye.’ It’s a divinatory ability, able to foresee and locate the gifted by the brightness of their energies, and it manifests once in each generation as its role is meant to be passed down.

The Eye is capable of seeing things from a bird's-eye view. The expanse of its ability can be frightening once sharpened into its full potential. It can track anything that has a heat signature, energy, sound—it’s also accompanied by a certain clairvoyance due to the exorcist’s sharpened senses with the lack of sight in the physical realm.

They have the makings to be deadly trackers. The Order most likely would’ve recruited San for this role once his predecessor passed away.”

San’s eyes widen in disbelief.

“W-wait, are you saying that I have that same ability? Strega, just because I’m a blind man doesn’t mean that I—”

“San, I can’t fully confirm nor deny the nature of your gifts because I am not you. But based on what Hongjoong explained—it sounds to me that The Order has yet to inform you of your impending future. The true extent of your abilities will only be revealed once your predecessor passes away and you inherit the entirety of the gift. The Order also keeps the existence of The Eye concealed.”

There’s apparent shock in his features, and you pity the boy when you think about how confused he must have been, navigating his gifts alone. The training for an exorcist is usually catered to more offense-based abilities and maneuvering physical defenses, but that wasn’t the most suited for long-distance and strategy-based gifts.

Fuck. This is going to be so hard to say.

You harden yourself as an old anger begins to rise from its depths within you, telling yourself, This is the last stretch, Y/N, just fucking do it.

“—However, The Order does not tell anyone what truly happens once a child is located.

Do you know what separates us from the other gifted? Have you ever questioned why only a select few are recruited by The Order, despite the fact that we need as much manpower as we can possibly get, as the amount of demons running rampant on Earth continues to grow?

It’s because many are spiritually gifted, but none of us are inherently born with abilities that manifest the way ours do. Even we weren’t originally born with the predisposition to manifest what we do now—only with the potential to have a greater gift form if the perfect conditions were to take place. In order for an exorcist to be created, we pay the price in blood.

The ritual calls for the sacrifice of one’s closest living relatives—the direct lineage must be eradicated so that the subject can fulfill the requirement of being the final bearer of its ancestors' blood. Our families were killed for the sake of inheriting these abilities. Those who are sacrificed don’t extend to distant relatives—but first cousins, grandmothers, grandfathers, siblings, aunts, uncles, mothers, and fathers? This is the disgusting and bloody reality of what we are. But The Order is cunning and methodical. There are exorcists hidden in the ranks with the ability to cause natural deaths for most of the family, but they never told you this, did they? But our mothers, fathers, siblings?—their blood is needed at the altar. I’m sure I don’t need to go into more detail.”

You grit your teeth. You hear Wooyoung's shaky sobbing and see Mingi crawling toward him to seek comfort as he shakes his head in horror. Seonghwa covers his mouth and runs toward the kitchen sink—bile rising as the entirety of his body shakes and empties itself. Hongjoong, however, is frighteningly still.

Knowing they could still hear you, you continue on. You can’t afford to stop now, else you’d break permanently.

“—But just why do you think such a horrific ritual has to be done in order for an exorcist to exist? This ritual, in particular, is meant to summon and imprison a demon within a gifted child's body and soul so they could foster its abilities. Think of it as if the demon were a power circuit, an outlet—you exorcists are the plugs pushed into the circuit to derive power from it. But the qualities of your body and spirit make it so that the exchange can happen. The Order tries to find us as young as possible so we’re trained and sharpened enough to fight as soon as we can, and because development is crucial to the process of fully integrating into its powers.

The demons you inherit, however, must choose you. Well—maybe saying the demon has a choice isn’t the right term—it’s dependent on what demon is specifically drawn in by your psychic energy before it’s trapped in the ritualistic circle. Since it’s a high-cost ritual, it often attracts higher-class demons. And since we were born with an immense amount of spiritual energy, it’s hard for them to resist the bait. Inside of you all, right now, at this very moment, is an unconscious demon—only to be released from you and awakened with your death.”

All sorts of emotions fill the room: existential crisis, anger, hatred, grief, denial, confusion, and profound betrayal. The adrenaline pulsing through your veins shows in your dilated pupils and the fast movement of your right leg—a repetitive thump, thump, thump reverberating through the room. Words continue to spill from your mouth.

“It’s rare for exorcists of different generations to have the same abilities as another. The one anomaly is The Eye, as it’s an ability that can be passed on and inherited without any blood ties—though I’m unsure why. It could either mean that there’s a possibility The Eye is a demon that means to assist mankind’s fight for survival, or that The Eye’s source is not a demon at all. Which would make it the only case in which this happened—other than my own.”

Seonghwa clenches his fists so hard that his nails dig into the thick of his palms, and his blood drips onto your hardwood floor. The room is deathly quiet following your explanation. His eyes and tone are grim, his entire body tense. He asks a question he fears he knows the answer to.

“Strega, what happens if we try to leave?”

Pure anguish falls onto your features and you don’t hesitate to reply.

“Then they will try to find another child to replace your vacancy, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa turns to bang his head and fist onto a nearby wall, squeezing a sob out of his throat in an attempt to stifle an incoming wail. Some of the others shut their eyes in despair, turning away from the sight of the typically reserved Seonghwa. They find themselves crushed into a tight space with a clear way out—but not without a hefty cost in exchange for freedom from the corruption at hand.

Hongjoong calmly rises from his seat on the floor to stretch his legs. “Why does it have to be another child?”

“The other exorcists of your clergy—they’re bound to The Order by sheer faith. They’re regular priests with a decent amount of spiritual energy who are dispatched to take care of lower-class entities. Through prayers and invocations, they’re able to exorcise with faith. However, those born with the amount of spiritual energy you’ve all had since birth is exceptionally rare. Typically, there are significantly fewer of you—but this generation has been ‘blessed’ with eight successful vessels. Your true denominations are referred to as ‘Infernal Hosts.’

Hongjoong, the eight of you are the only ones in this world who fall under this category—”

Every face in the room grows pale and cold, recognizing the unfathomable truth and gravity of the situation at hand. They were trapped unless they decided to trade places with a child—and therefore would contribute to another lineage’s annihilation.

“—This is why the child poses a threat to The Order and the worlds beyond the veil. And depending on what path this child takes—should he remain alive, the tides of this ongoing battle of survival could completely turn. The spirits told me... t-they told me that the child was born with the greatest amount of spiritual energy seen in the last few centuries. Even more than you and I, Hongjoong. The Order says they want us to save the child from possession, but they intend to do to him what they’d done to us.

This is also not done without running the risk of him attracting something concerningly powerful, and therefore, becoming too powerful—but should the demon overtake or manipulate him… it’s likely that humanity will greet the dawn of its ending.

The one beneficial factor at hand is that The Eye hasn’t been able to locate any living relatives—most of them have passed away and he was orphaned shortly after his birth due to his own circumstances. The Order needs ancestral blood for the ritual, so they’re scrambling to research an alternative. And this buys him time. Time to either die or find another way out—somehow, some way.” His eyes are unreadable and not nearly as clear as they were earlier.

“You said that there are only eight Infernal Hosts in this world currently. Where is your place in this equation? Why have you suffered the same fate as us? How did you get away from The Order?” he asks. Eyes widen around the room in realization, forgetting that you’d left the association five years ago—when you were freshly twenty-two years old. They quickly turn their heads to gaze at you warily. Even Seonghwa turns from his position on the wall to gaze at you with unabashed judgment.

Raziel chuckles a bit.

‘This one’s discreetly a bitch. Careful— I have a feeling the demon he hosts has something to do with his speech. You’ve probably noticed by now that his spiritual energy is also off the fucking charts. Just an inkling, but keep that in mind.’

“That’s because I’m not an Infernal Host.”

He quirks a brow. “Okay, and?” Eyes around the room bounce back and forth between you two frustratedly.

You roll your eyes at him but are partially relieved that you don’t have to deliver any more painful news.

“I’m referred to as the Divine Host. I don’t know how it happened, so don’t ask—all I know is that during the ritual, I ended up attracting something completely different than they originally planned.”

“Which is?” they ask in unison.

You sigh shakily before confessing the information for the first time in your life outside of The Order.

“An Archangel. I attracted an Archangel.” The room goes still as they try to process the fact that there's an Archangel resting inside of you—which also means it is right there in the room with them… and they all apparently housed demons within themselves.

“This is why The Order couldn’t find a replacement for me and why they didn’t want to risk defying my choice. Raziel’s mere presence, as you’ve noticed, is absolutely frightening—and both psychologically and physically horrendous for anyone with enough spiritual energy to sense him within several kilometers. Paired with the fact that I’m regularly in communication with him? They didn’t know what would happen if they opposed my leaving. There are other factors, but let’s leave that for another day.”

“—And no, he has no desire to attack you. Not yet, at least,” you say, and pique their interest.

“How do you know that?” Yeosang presses, his eyes brightening a bit despite the melancholy draping his body language, elbows resting on the knees of his wide-spread legs, hands locked together as he gazes upward at your figure.

“Because I can hear him whenever he’s awake. He’s usually in a resting state but can be awoken by the drawing of my blood above the skin that bears his mark. Before I became a vessel, I had an affinity for clairaudience and spirit communication—so I suppose that might be the reason why I can speak with him candidly, but Raziel won’t tell me any specifics. I speak to many spirits to pass the time, and in return, spirits also tell me many things. Which is where I got the information about the child.”

San pipes up slowly. “Raziel… he sounds familiar. Is he one of the Archangels listed in the Torah?” His voice is soft and asks more questions to distract himself from the gravity that weighs heavily on him.

You lightly smile at him before agreeing. “Yeah, he’s also mentioned in some Kabbalistic texts—but we can talk more about Raziel later.” Expression dimming slowly as you accept the calling of your fate.

“I will help retrieve the child from the clutches of whatever is attaching itself to him, but I will not return him to The Order.”

Hongjoong knowingly smiles, almost as if he were waiting for you at the finish line, and you arrived exactly where he expected you to. The multiple thick silver hoop earrings hit against each other as he shakes his head a bit.

Seonghwa eyes you with confusion, brushing his long dark hair back with bony fingers. “What do you mean you won’t return him to The Order?”

Resolutely, you gaze at them all. Smiling as you sign your life away, name on the dotted line—

“I won’t return him to The Order, because I will take on the role of his Guardian. If anyone could hide his presence, it’d be Raziel.”

The man himself is quick to interject.

‘I don’t care for your affairs, nor do I care for your stupid little apocalypse, child. I’ve been waiting for mankind to die out. It took way too long.’

You scrunch your brows together, replying to him out loud now that everyone knows about his existence.

“I’d beg to differ. I think you do care about my affairs because it’s fun and you’re unbearably nosy. Not to mention the fact that you clearly made the brilliant decision of willingly inhabiting me because of your distaste for your own kind to begin with, you old buffoon. This is practically a visa marriage. Anyways—think about what mysteries this may hold, will you?”

Jongho’s jaw drops at your rudeness after realizing that you were having some sort of telepathic conversation with the Archangel.

Raziel ponders and momentarily considers calling down a lightning bolt to eradicate you, but it is in his nature to cave to his curiosities.

‘The one thing you will surely die with is the audacity.’ He scoffs and goes silent. You smile because that means yes.

“I don’t want to watch everyone else play God anymore. If the world burns, so be it—if the child lives and disrupts the balance, so be it. He deserves the choice to exist or disappear when the time comes—but until then, I won’t let The Order make it for him. Nothing will succeed in touching a single hair on his body.

We have to stop this because we’re the only ones who truly can. Our true goal is to protect the innocent.”

Hongjoong extends a hand to grasp your own, layering his palm over the back of your hand as a sign of camaraderie.

You’re unsure if the reason you’re so compelled to die for the cause is to find retribution or release yourself from the guilt of ignoring the responsibility that accompanies one blessed with power. Maybe a part of you also wants to take part in the great cosmic gamble. The rest of the men slowly rise and stand tall, leaning over to meet your palms in the middle of the forming circle. All in favor of the task, deciding in silent unison that your shared horrors could only be ameliorated and forgiven by preventing it from happening again.

It’s all or nothing.

Wooyoung speaks for the first time, a palpable darkness twisting in his eyes—an old rage swimming at the surface of his reflection. His gaze flickers and burns hot as he stares at the stack of palms lining his point of vision. His voice is tense as he utters the joining phrase—

“We who are forged from Iron and Blood. May our blades strike upon those who have dared to touch our earthly makers. We pay the price—blood in exchange for innocence. Ancestors, please watch as we avenge your faultless souls and make right the unintentional sins of our youth.”

Meeting your eyes with exhilaration, Hongjoong’s lips fold into a toothy half-smile. The sharpness of his teeth makes something inside of you shiver.

“Welcome to the team, Strega. Let’s have a fun time dying.”

Let’s have a fun time, indeed.

ahh i hope you all enjoyed the first chapter and that it hopefully made sense. please like, reblog, or leave comments to let me know what you thought about it! <3

© velvetdolor 2025. All rights reserved.

[starlightkun]

❧ word count: 22.3k ❧ warnings: cursing, inaccurate descriptions of constellations bc this is a fantasy world ❧ genre: fluff, mild angst, slow burn, blind date, strangers to idiots friends to lovers, modern magical creatures au, college au, werewolf sungchan, human reader, ft. siren shotaro & various magical neos (and another extra special guest appearance!), same universe as strawberry sunday ❧ extra info: this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe, they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!) ❧ author’s note: so this is technically the spiritual threequel to my two werewolf jeno fics (pupsick + abh) but you still don’t have to read those to understand this one at all! this is absolutely meant to be read by itself! and this one is also very self-indulgent, from the a.c.e song title to werewolf sungchan, i had a very great time on this one, hence the word count. if you guys have even half the fun reading this as i did writing it, you’ll have a blast. enjoy! ❧ sequel ❧ EDIT DEC 2024: this fic had a brief allusion to a former 127 member in it. i’ve edited this fic to take it out, but if there are any mentions of him that i missed, inconsistencies, or plot holes, please let me know!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!

baby i’m your changer, changer, love is not a danger

Reclined on the plush, soft grass of the front lawn of your college with your hands behind your head, you basked in a particularly lovely patch of sunlight. It was January, the very beginning of the year and the semester, meaning that this would normally be a very chilly and unpleasant endeavor. Except you were sandwiched between two dryads. Dryads weren’t in and of themselves extra warm like dragons or werewolves, nor could one dryad on their own change the weather—and would most likely be influenced by it rather than the other way other—but if you got two together, and they were in a good enough mood, they could generate a little bubble of springtime around them. And for some reason, Jaemin and Donghyuck were in exceptionally high spirits today.

You knew the two dryads from Magical Botany Club, which you had joined your freshman year after you’d managed to kill the small cactus that your parents gave you as a housewarming present for your dorm. They were the only ones who didn’t immediately label you a lost cause, and instead saw you as a challenge. Now, your junior year, your apartment was a jungle to rival that of a dryad’s home, and you were even Vice President of the club this year.

After a long, refreshing inhale followed by an even longer exhale, you finally asked, “So what’s got you in such a good mood? It certainly can’t just be finalizing the calendar of club activities this semester.”

Jaemin was club President, and Donghyuck the Secretary/Treasurer, so this little sunbathing session before the start of the semester on Monday was really supposed to be an Executive Board meeting.

“Who, us?” Jaemin replied innocently.

“No, I was talking to the cardinal on Donghyuck’s leg,” you retorted sarcastically, gesturing to said bird that had also settled in to enjoy the cozy rays.

“We’re not planning anything,” Donghyuck said in the same tone as Jaemin.

You propped yourself up on one elbow to look down at your friend properly, narrowing your eyes at him suspiciously. “I just wanted you to share whatever good news you had, I didn’t think you two were planning anything, but now I definitely do. What’s going on?”

“Donghyuck, you idiot!” The other dryad hissed at him.

“What is it? Don’t tell me you and that fairy are going to try to convince your human friend that aliens are real again. Leave that poor guy alone, he’s got enough on his plate just dealing with all of you being real and jerks to him.” You scoffed disapprovingly, remembering when they recounted that story to you at club a couple years ago. You had been tempted to check on Renjun yourself when you spotted him at the library the next day, but you didn’t know him personally, and didn’t think he’d appreciate it in the moment. Especially not since he looked like he was really focused on his work at the time, so you just let him be.

“It’s nothing like that, I swear,” Jaemin promised. “It’s nothing bad at all.”

You sat up all the way to be able to look at both of them at once. “Okay, what is it then?”

Donghyuck sat up too, the cardinal hopping up to his shoulder. “Long story short, we have a friend that we want to set you up with.”

“No thanks, guys.” You shook your head.

“You won’t even let us tell you about him?”

“I’m not really looking for anything right now. Not after my ex—”

Jaemin pushed his phone screen in front of your face then, a picture of a guy on it. It was presumably the friend they wanted to set you up with. He was around your age, tall—if where his head was in comparison to the doorway of this building was to be believed, wearing a black leather jacket. It looked well-worn, though, as if it might not have been his originally, handed down or thrifted at least. And yeah, he was cute, you weren’t blind. But you also knew not to just eat with your eyes, or else you’d get a tummyache.

“Seriously, Jaemin?” You looked at your friend over the phone screen. “You think I’m that shallow? One picture and I’m going to throw everything away?”

“Dude, show her the—” Donghyuck flapped his hand at the other dryad insistently.

“Oh, right, right.” Jaemin nodded as he began swiping and tapping on his phone fervently.

Donghyuck kept talking to you, “Of course we don’t think you’re shallow. We always meant to tell you about him, too. His name’s Jung Sungchan, he goes here, too, he’s a werewolf, he’s really nice, uh… Jaemin? Some help?”

You let out a sound that was a mix between a snort and a scoff. “Yeah, he sounds great.”

“Okay, he’s really more Jaemin’s friend than mine, sorry,” Donghyuck admitted. “Jaemin? What’s taking so long dude?”

“I don’t know! I can’t find it for some reason, I think he deleted it!” Jaemin muttered, his voice panicked. “I’m checking Jeno’s Instagram right now.”

“So Jeno knows him?” You asked. You didn’t know Jaemin’s werewolf roommate as well as you knew the two dryads, but you did know that they were all friends. “Are they in the same pack?”

“No, they actually know each other through Jeno’s… Ha! Found it!” Jaemin yelled out in celebration, flipping his phone around for you to see.

It was another picture, this time of Jeno standing next to the person you now knew to be named Sungchan. They were at what looked like a u-pick strawberry patch, each proudly holding up a large bucket filled to the brim with strawberries. Sungchan was in a white tank top—a brave choice for a strawberry farm—and shorts. Despite the outfit showing off a lot more of him than the last picture, it was his bright, happy grin that caught your eye, and you had to consciously make sure your gaze didn’t linger too long on the picture.

Turning your attention back to your friends, you prompted Jaemin, “Well? Do you know any more about him than he goes to our college and is a nice werewolf that knows Jeno?”

“Right! Yes!” Jaemin sat up straight at attention as you saw Donghyuck do a little fist pump of victory out of the corner of your eye. “He’s tall—”

“I can see that, he’s like almost two heads taller than Jeno; I meant his personality. This isn’t me saying yes, by the way.” You pointed to yourself and Jaemin talking. “This is me gathering data. I wanted to take time for myself after what happened with my ex, remember? I think it might be enough time, but I need a bit more than ‘he’s nice’ to get me out there.”

“Of course, of course. I really appreciate you even considering this for us,” he squeezed your arm for a moment before letting it go. “He’s really smart, Dean’s List every semester, uh, it might take a minute for him to warm up at first, but once he does, he’s funny, and insightful. And he doesn’t have that constant go-go-go energy that werewolves usually do, he’s so much chiller, so if you were worried about that, don’t be.”

“And, sorry, I know he’s your friend, but I have to ask…” You winced. “He’s not one of those werewolf guys that only dates human girls as like… you know… an ego thing?”

Donghyuck snorted, “Oh he’s not, promise.”

Tension you didn’t know you’d been carrying in your shoulders relaxed at that. “Good.”

“We do have to tell you one thing though,” Jaemin grimaced.

“What?”

“This isn’t just a random set-up because we think you guys would be cute—”

“Oh God, what’s wrong with him?”

“Nothing! Nothing!” He rushed to reassure you. “Like, that part is true, we do think you’d be a good match.”

“Let me guess: the ‘but’ that follows that sentence is related to the ‘long story’ that Donghyuck mentioned earlier?”

Jaemin nodded reluctantly. “Yeah… long story long, Sungchan made a deal, and his end of it was letting us set him up with anybody of our choosing.”

“You’re using a date with me to punish him?” You stood up, brushing the grass off your back. “Yeah, hard fucking pass. Thanks, guys, you really know how to make a girl feel special.”

“No, not a punishment!” Jaemin scrambled to get to his feet as well. As you walked off, the air around you turned cold again, marking when you left their bubble of spring. He called after you, “Y/N! I’m sorry! Please!”

You didn’t want to go back to your empty apartment yet though, so you found yourself meandering into a familiar storefront. Jasmine & Pearls, a boba tea shop just around the corner from your college campus. There was only one customer ahead of you in line, and you stared blankly at the menu just to look at something. You weren’t feeling very adventurous today, so you’d probably get your regular go-to order. After the customer before you had been helped, you shuffled up to the counter, messing with your phone case to pull your punch card out of the back of it.

“Hey, Y/N!” Shotaro, the siren working behind the counter today, greeted you cheerily.

The iridescent pink scales under the tip of his button nose and apples of his cheeks shimmered in the fluorescent lights, making him look like he had a perpetual hint of rosy blush across his skin. That, and his cherubic smile could almost make you forget what those scales and his flashing silvery eyes really meant—he was a siren, could lure you to your death if he so wanted to. Obviously, he didn’t want to, had no reason to, and that would literally be a murder charge nowadays, but you nevertheless found it fascinating that such a being was just here serving you boba tea.

A few months ago, you realized that you came here probably too often once all the workers knew your name, but by then it was too late. It was just too convenient, delicious, and pleasant of an atmosphere for you to feel ashamed enough to stop coming.

“Hi, Shotaro.” You smiled back at him. “Just a regular honey milk tea with boba, please. No charms today.”

“On it!” He accepted both your punch card and credit card from you. After handing them back, he spun around to make your drink, and you went to go wait for it at the bartop at the other end.

Curious, and with nothing better to do in that moment, you pulled up Jeno’s Instagram on your phone. From the main grid on his account, all you could see was pictures either with or of his partner. Cute. Then you finally saw one of them at a strawberry patch, Jeno in the same outfit as the picture Jaemin had shown you before. You clicked on that one, and sure enough it was a whole set of photos. You swiped through to find the one of him and Sungchan holding the buckets of strawberries. And Sungchan was tagged.

You looked up at Shotaro. The customer ahead of you still hadn’t gotten their drink. You checked the notifications on your phone. Nothing new to reply to. Well, here it goes. You clicked on his account.

And he was private. Well, good for him. Internet privacy.

You went back to Jeno’s Instagram to check if Sungchan had maybe appeared in any more posts. You just wanted to see if you could glean anything more about him.

You finally found him again in what looked like a big group trip to Cape Solaria at the end of last summer. There were probably fifteen people here at least. He popped up in a few different shots, playing beach sports with Jeno and some other guys that you didn’t recognize; joining in on throwing some poor guy—who you presumed to be a witch, judging by the ritual tattoos he was covered in from neck to ankle—into the ocean; and sitting around a campfire roasting marshmallows with Jaemin and Renjun. And in every single one, Sungchan had such a genuine, pure, joyful smile. Like he was fully enjoying the moment and the people with him. Yeah, maybe you were projecting, but... surely it wouldn’t hurt to give it at least one chance?

“Y/N? Hello?” Shotaro was calling for you from the counter, shaking a drink that was presumably yours.

You snapped your head up, sheepishly turning your phone off and stuffing it away in your pocket. The other customer was nowhere to be seen; it was just you and the siren.

“Sorry, sorry.” You rushed up to accept the cup.

“It’s alright, you seemed like you were in the zone.”

You grabbed a straw, punching it out from the plastic wrapping. “In the zone of a little cyberstalking, as much as I hate to admit.”

“No shame here, we all do it. Who was it? Can I see?” He grinned mischievously.

“No,” you said flatly, stabbing your straw through the top of the drink. “My friends want to set me up.”

“Want to? Sounds like you haven’t said yes.”

“Perceptive.” You took your first sip.

“But you were cyberstalking them... So, you’re considering?”

“Ugh, I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Why not? Human lives are short.”

“Right. Thanks for that reminder.”

The bell above the front door rang then, announcing the entrance of another customer.

“Always here to help,” Shotaro patted your forearm before walking back to the register to greet the newcomer.

Two weeks later and you were nervously double-checking the name of the restaurant and the time that Jeno had sent you. Yep, this was it, and you weren’t weirdly early. You couldn’t believe how strange this felt, going on a date again. Comparing your outfit to the casual café as you walked in, you felt only a little better that you weren’t overdressed or underdressed either.

Your eyes scanned the building for Sungchan. You’d done enough cyberstalking on your own time in addition to the photos that your friends kept showing you to hype you up that you were certain you’d recognize him easily. It looked like you’d gotten here first. It was seat-yourself, so you might as well grab a table for the two of you.

You’d just come to a stop in front of a little two-seater and took your purse off to hang off the back of your chair.

“Y/N?” A voice came from behind you, accompanied by a gentle tap on your shoulder.

You spun around, immediately face-to-chest with someone. Looking up, you did, in fact, recognize the face of Jung Sungchan. He was admittedly cuter in real life than in the multitude of pictures that Jaemin and Donghyuck had continued to show you in preparation for the date. You didn’t want to know what they’d been doing to prepare Sungchan.

“Hi, Sungchan?” You still phrased it like a question, watching as the man’s features relaxed into an easy smile of recognition.

“Yes, hello.” He raised his arms up slightly at the same time that you did, and you realized that the both of you were now presumably having the same internal debate about if you were supposed to hug your blind first date hello as a greeting.

Ultimately, the two of you did go in for an awkward short hug, and you let out a nervous chuckle, feeling the warmth radiating off of him in the brief contact. You immediately looked down at the table, “Uhm, should we sit?”

“Of course, yeah.”

And as the two of you sat down on opposite sides, you looked up from your fidgeting fingers to your date’s face, not expecting his brow to be furrowed as if he were troubled by something, his gaze affixed on you.

You shifted in your seat uncomfortably. “Is everything okay?”

“You’re not wearing any perfume...” He commented, and you let out a minuscule sigh of relief. That’s all it was, he was just a bit put off that you hadn’t put on a perfume like one might’ve normally done for a date. A detail that he would’ve of course picked up as a werewolf.

“Not that I expect any brownie points for this, but I uh, I didn’t want to overwhelm your nose, in case there were any smells you’re particularly sensitive to,” you explained, picking up the menu that was already sitting on the table.

“You did your research.”

“Oh, I’ve dated a couple werewolves before, actually.”

“Really? You got a type or something?” As soon as the word were out of Sungchan’s mouth, he went to take them back, seeming surprised even at himself, “Sorry, that was—”

“No, no, I get it,” you cut off his apology, your tone reassuring. You knew that there were people who had a disturbing preference for werewolves, so you could understand why you dating now three werewolves might initially look a little suspicious. “Uh, I went to a kind of small high school. Private school. There were a couple of packs in my area that sent like all of their kids there, so my graduating class ended up being like 75% werewolves. It was just kind of statistics, I guess.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry about that, again,” Sungchan apologized once more, relaxing in his seat a bit more as he actually started to peruse his own menu.

“Anyway, that’s not a great first date topic.” You forced out a light-hearted chuckle.

“What’s not?”

“Past relationships? I think that’s third or fourth at least, don’t you?”

“Mm, yeah, of course. Sorry.”

Desperate to redirect the conversation to a much lighter, neutral one, you asked, “So what’s your major, Sungchan?”

“Earth Sciences.”

“Geology or Climatology track?”

He perked up at this. “Meteorology and Climatology.”

“And what made you want to study that?”

“Well, at first I thought I wanted to study astrophysics, but it was too much math and too little actual space. But I really liked my Intro to Weather class I took my first semester to cover a random credit so I switched to that and it stuck.”

“Wait, was it a morning Monday-Wednesday-Friday with Professor- Professor...” Suddenly, the memory struck you. “Oh! Hwang? Fall semester three years ago?”

“Yes, I believe so...” He answered, head tilting with intrigue.

“I think I had it too!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I took it to get that Science credit as well.”

“I’m sorry to say that I don’t remember you at all.”

“It’s okay, I don’t remember you either,” you laughed, just amazed at the coincidence. “It was a big auditorium.”

Sungchan must have figured out what he wanted, as he set down his menu and leaned his elbows on the table to give you his full attention. “So what are you studying?”

“I’m an Interdisciplinary Major,” you told him happily, thrilled that the conversation was going much more smoothly now. “I was a bit indecisive, too. Except I couldn’t find one thing that stuck like you did. So I chose two: Sociology and Magical Creatures Studies.”

His eyes dropped from yours as he scoffed under his breath, sitting back in his seat.

And there went your pleasant conversation again.

“What was that?” You asked tersely.

“I didn’t say anything.” He shook his head like he was trying to clear the unpleasant tone from the conversation, but you weren’t going to let him go that easily.

“No, but clearly you have an opinion. So go ahead.”

“Not really, I was just wondering if you’ve even dated anyone that wasn’t a werewolf.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “You think my major is just me cruising for a new boyfriend or something? Very expensive and essay-intensive compared to dating apps.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Y/N,” Sungchan held his hands up, looking back up at you again. His features turned apologetic. “I just… I don’t know, I’m sorry.”

“So were you going to actually ask me that if I didn’t confront you, or were you just going to make assumptions?”

“That really was rude of me,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “But, I mean… how do you ask someone something like that without coming off as a bit rude?”

“I suggest phrasing it like a genuine question instead of an accusation.”

“Right.” He took a second as if to compose himself, then asked, his tone much more conservational, “So, you said you dated a couple werewolves in high school. Uh, have you dated anyone else since coming to college, then? Before this?”

You did your best to return your own voice and manner to civility as well. “Dates here and there, but as for serious relationships, just one, I dated a human guy briefly.”

“And why did you break up? If you don’t mind telling me. I get it if it’s too personal.”

“It’s fine. He cheated on me.”

“So you’re of course looking for loyalty. Like, you know, a dog.” Sungchan fired back spitefully.

“Okay, I think we’re done here, Sungchan,” you declared, putting both your hands on the table to prepare yourself to stand.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he rushed to try to apologize for the umpteenth time that night, but you’d heard plenty by now.

“No, it’s fine, really,” you assured him, still moving to get up out of your chair and grab your purse. “You’ve obviously had some bad experiences in the past, none of which I’m privy to. It’s not fair to you to constantly be suspicious that your date has ulterior motives for being with you. But it’s also not fair to me to have to constantly defend myself either.”

He was quiet at that.

You continued, “We both deserve to be able to relax and have fun, and that’s clearly just not going to be able to happen. It’s okay, sometimes things just don’t work out. So, I’m going to go, and I hope you have a great rest of your day.”

And with that, you turned around and left the café.

The ringing of the bell above the door of Jasmine & Pearls barely registered in the back of your mind as you lumbered right up to the cash register the next day.

“Good afternoon, Y/N!” Shotaro greeted you cheerily.

“Hi, Shotaro...” You couldn’t muster up anything close to his level of enthusiasm, letting out a sigh. “Same old, same old, please.”

“Uh oh. Sounds like the date didn’t go so well?” He surmised, ringing you up then starting on your order.

“No, it didn’t,” you leaned against the counter to keep talking to him. “Barely lasted ten minutes.”

“That’s rough. You end it or did he?”

“I did. It was for the best but still... I thought I was going to really like this guy.” Based off nothing but social media posts and word of mouth from friends, but you really were hopeful. You’d had a good feeling, and had trusted Jeno, Jaemin, and Donghyuck. And it blew up in your face.

Note to self, never fucking trust those three again.

“Don’t feel too bad, Y/N. Seems like it’s going around.”

“What do you mean?”

“My roommate’s date last night was a bust too.”

“We should make a club,” you chuckled cynically.

“Or I can set you up?” The siren offered hopefully.

“Thanks, but I’m good. I said I was going to take some time to focus on myself after my last relationship, and I meant that. Last night was me testing the waters, and I fucking drowned.”

“That special, huh? Or, I guess not, in the end.”

“Well, at least now I know, you know? No ‘what if’s to mess with.”

Shotaro enthusiastically slammed your drink down in front of you. “Hell yeah, Y/N. A clear head.”

“Exactly.” You pulled the cup over to you.

He put the packaged straw down on top emphatically. “Fuck that guy.”

“Bit extreme, Shotaro, but I appreciate the sentiment,” you grinned, hitting the straw against the counter to pop it out from the plastic wrapping.

“You’re coming to our Valentine’s Day event next month though, right?” Your friend asked, pointing to the poster taped to the wall advertising the event. The evening of February 13th at the boba shop, with a special themed drinks menu and activities to do.

“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Great!” He beamed at you.

“Anyway, I’ve got to go, and you’ve got more customers. See you.” You took your drink with you towards the exit that a whole gaggle of high schoolers had just come through, waving to the siren over your shoulder.

“Bye, Y/N!”

Pulling open the door of Jasmine & Pearls some weeks later, you were immediately greeted by an array of red, pink, and white. The entire store had been redecorated for the event. A short stage was set up against the far wall of the dining area, a small photobooth in another corner, and a station where you could learn to make an origami heart, if the pictures on the instructions taped to the wall above it were anything to guess off. The shop was already bustling and buzzing with energy, filled with couples and groups of friends. All in all, it looked like it was shaping up to be a successful night for them.

You got into possibly the longest line you could remember having waited in at Jasmine & Pearls in a while—you’d learned the rush times and had become a pro at avoiding them in order to get your boba fix as quick as possible—and continued looking around with a smile on your face.

Unfortunately, you were flying this one solo. Your friends were all either working or studying tonight, and you weren’t going to flake after already promising Shotaro just because you couldn’t find someone to come with you. But you could have plenty of fun by yourself. And, you didn’t make any promise to stay the whole night. You’d stay just to finish your drink and maybe make an origami heart or two, depending on how good you were at them.

Finally, it was your turn to order, and you walked up to the register already with a big smile on your face.

Shotaro was manning the register while another employee fulfilled the orders. Your friend’s face lit up immediately. “Y/N! You made it!”

“I told you I would. Did you doubt me?” You questioned in mock offense.

“Not for a second,” he declared. Pointing to the little standee menu that was on the counter, he asked, “So what’ll you have? I recommend one of our specials for the occasion, obviously.”

You looked over the three new drink options that were advertised as for tonight’s event only. One in particular caught your eye, strawberry milk tea with heart-shaped brown sugar tapioca pearls, and an added feel-good charm. “That Lovebug sounds good.”

“Perfect! I knew you’d get that one! Coming right up!” He rang you up, but only took your credit card from your hand. “Sorry, no regular punch cards tonight. Instead, every purchase of a drink comes with a special event-only punch card.”

“Oh?” You raised your eyebrows as he handed you a small pink card with four circles on it, one already punched out with a heart-shaped hole punch.

“Yep! If you complete all the activities we have tonight, you can redeem it for a free drink! You’ve already gotten a punch for purchasing a drink, then we’ve got the photobooth—” he pointed to the large box. “Just bring your photo strips up here, and I’ll punch the card for you. And the origami, same thing. They don’t have to be professional, as long as you tried, just show them to me, and I’ll give you another punch. And then my boss, Baekhyun, is going to be hosting Valentine’s Bingo in like ten, fifteen minutes. He’ll punch everyone’s cards who participates.” He gestured to the stage, where you now saw a man starting to mess with a microphone and small table. “Don’t worry, you can play single.”

“Huh. Sounds good to me.” You tucked the card into your pocket. “Thanks, Shotaro.”

“Your drink will be out in a second!”

When you finally heard your name being called out by the other employee, you walked up and took the cup from him gratefully. It was another siren, who you weren’t nearly as familiar with as Shotaro, but you still offered Yuta a smile as you accepted the drink.

You looked at the heart-shaped boba at the bottom of the cup fondly. “Cute. Thanks, Yuta.”

“Of course! Now enjoy the ambiance.” Yuta shooed you away with a smirk.

You saluted him casually. “Heard.”

Meandering around the store, you took in the kitschy decorations in various heart, Cupid, rose, and arrow shapes all around. Despite your own striking out in the romance department as of late, you couldn’t find yourself wanting to muster up any morosity for the atmosphere. It was too endearing, and you were someone who just loved love. And maybe the feel-good charm in the boba pearls was doing its job pretty well.

Legally, Jasmine & Pearls couldn’t sell any charms that had effects as strong as alcohol, drugs, or hexes, or they’d need special licenses for that, but the little charms and enchantments available in some of their boba options could influence one’s mood for a short amount of time. Feel-good, tranquility, energy, focus, that kind of stuff.

A lot of the tables had been pushed to one side to make room for the stage, so you took your drink to the bar seating that was against a window, keeping your eye on the figure on stage. As he was readjusting the microphone, you caught a flash of scales under his skin, realizing that he too was a siren, and suddenly the employment choices felt a bit more intentional than coincidental.

Red and pink heart-shaped confetti had been sprinkled along the bartop, and you brushed some of it aside to be able to set your cup down. You were humming along to the love song playing over the speakers as you scrolled on your phone when you swore you heard your name. Straightening up a little, you listened carefully for it again.

“Y/N?” Someone gently tapped on your shoulder this time.

You turned around atop the stool you’d been sitting on, not prepared for who was behind you. Jung Sungchan was standing there, hands stuffed in the pockets of his worn black leather jacket. Honestly, you hadn’t thought much about him since your date five or six weeks ago. Your focus had been on school— with this being your junior year, you had a lot to get together in order to be ready to apply for grad schools, Botany Club, still going to work, and keeping up with friends around all this somehow. One failed date that wasn’t even in your top five worst dates hadn’t really been keeping you up at night. And yet somehow here he was.

You were sure that the surprise was evident on your face, and you probably left just too long of pause hanging in the air before you finally said something. “Oh, Sungchan, hi.”

“I thought that was you. Hey.” He offered a friendly smile.

“How are you?”

“I’m—” He was cut off by a distant shout of his name that only got closer.

“Hey! Sungchan!” It was Shotaro, the siren approaching with a prepared drink and straw, shoving them in the werewolf’s hand. “Dude, you can’t just walk away from the counter like that while we’re making your drink, then I have to come chase you down when you don’t hear your name.”

Sungchan accepted it from the employee guiltily. “Sorry, Shotaro.”

“Anyway! I’m glad you two have met.” Shotaro beamed at the pair of you, throwing an arm around Sungchan’s neck. “Y/N, this is my roommate I was talking about, Jung Sungchan. Sungchan, this is Y/L/N Y/N, she’s a regular here and goes to our college.”

Your eyes widened minutely in alarm as you suddenly connected way too many dots. Oh god, Shotaro’s roommate had an awful date, Sungchan is Shotaro’s roommate, you and Sungchan had gone on a date that night, the very same date you had also complained to Shotaro about. And who knows what terrible things Sungchan might have told the siren about the date, about you. After all, you had been the one to walk out on him.

You felt like you were going to puke as Shotaro gave Sungchan a sharp slap on the shoulder, winked at you behind his roommate’s back, and walked back to his station behind the counter.

After a heavy, long, awkward pause, Sungchan finally spoke up. “So… what did you get?”

“Oh, uhm… the Lovebug. What about you?”

“Me too, same. Lovebug.”

Another pause as you watched Sungchan open his straw and poke it through the plastic seal covering the top of the drink.

“So are we going to address the elephant in the room?” You decided to just get it over with.

“Which one? I feel like we have a whole herd at this point.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Okay, fair. I meant Shotaro. I’ll be the first to admit that I confided in him after our—I’m sorry to say but—disaster of a date.”

“That’s a generous assessment, actually.” Sungchan agreed. “And I told him about it too. I mean, we live together, it was hard for him not to notice when I came back home less than an hour after I left.”

“Ah, yeah…”

“I didn’t say anything bad about you, by the way. I told him it went horribly, because I ruined it, of course, but you were perfectly lovely. Truly way more level-headed than I deserved.”

“Oh, no, Sungchan,” you tried to reassure him. “Really, like I said before— Sometimes things just don’t work out.”

“I know. But still, I treated you awfully, and I am really, really sorry about that.”

“Thank you.”

A crackling came from the speakers up front, snapping your attention back to the man on stage. Baekhyun had gotten the microphone connected, and you saw Shotaro darting from the stage to his spot at the register as his boss called for everyone’s attention. “Hello? Hello? Great, this is working.”

He flashed a dazzling smile to the small crowd. “Hi, if you don’t know me, I’m Byun Baekhyun, I own Jasmine & Pearls here. If you’re in line, don’t panic, we’re not starting quite yet. I just wanted to thank everybody for coming out here tonight, this is honestly a much better turnout than we had expected. I, of course, also want to thank my two incredible employees, Shotaro and Yuta, for working tonight too.”

The two sirens behind the counter both waved as they got a round of applause, then everyone’s eyes were back on Baekhyun.

“We’re going to be starting Valentine’s Bingo in about five minutes or so. I just want everyone to know that you will need a partner for this. So if you came out here by yourself, find another single person out there and you know… get talking.” He grinned, and you swore his gaze lingered on you and Sungchan for a millisecond too long to be coincidental. “Okay, awesome, I’ll be back up here in five to get it started.”

Your eyes flashed over to your friend that was working, remembering exactly when he told you that you could play the game by yourself, and now suddenly you needed a partner. Shotaro was contentedly ringing up a customer’s order, though, seemingly not even paying you nor Sungchan any mind.

“So, uh, want to partner up? For the bingo?” Sungchan asked, then rushed to tack on, “Unless you’re waiting for somebody?”

“I’m not waiting for anybody,” you smiled, gesturing to the stool beside you for him to sit down.

“How have things been with you?”

“Good, they’ve been pretty good. Just a lot of school and Bot Club.”

“Bot Club?”

“Magical Botany Club. I’m the Vice President this year.”

“Oh, cool. So that’s how you know Jaemin, then.”

“Yeah, yeah. Him and Lee Donghyuck, we’re all on the board together.”

“How’d you get into it?”

“Because I sucked at gardening,” you admitted with a laugh. “My freshman year, my parents gave me this cactus to have in my dorm, and I killed the thing somehow. They can survive in deserts and the most extreme climates in the world, and it perished in my dorm room. I joined Bot Club hoping for some tips, and everyone just immediately thought I was beyond help. Jaemin and Hyuck were the only ones who actually took the time to help me. And it took a lot of time.”

Sungchan was smiling too, genuinely. “You must have grown to really like it, to stick around after getting your cactus caretaking tips.”

“Yeah, I do.” You nodded. “What about you? How’s school been for you?”

He grimaced a little. “Could be better, honestly.”

“Oh no? Why? What’s wrong?” You frowned.

Before Sungchan could answer, another person had approached the two of you. It was Baekhyun, a stack of square bingo cards in one hand and box of markers in the other. His silver eyes seemed to glitter in the lights as he smiled at you, his opalescent scales refracting a whole rainbow of colors where they sat just under his skin along his cheekbones, bridge of his nose, and forehead.

“Hi!” He greeted the two of you cheerfully. “Are you two together?”

“Oh, uh, yes,” Sungchan nodded, reaching out to grab your bingo sheet and marker before the store owner flitted off to the next pair of customers.

He set them down on the counter in between the two of you, but your focus was still on your conversation.

“So what’s wrong, Sungchan?” You asked, taking another sip of your drink.

“I mean, it’s just been a bit stressful is all,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “One of my professors asked me to do research with him, and then I took an SI position with another professor too, on top of all my classes. Just kind of got a lot on my plate.”

“Oh, okay. But that sounds like a great opportunity, at least. Your professor asking you to do research with him.”

“It is, it’s some seriously cool stuff.”

“What’s—”

Baekhyun clearing his throat into the microphone from the front cut you off, and you gave the werewolf an apologetic look.

“Sorry. But I do want to hear about it later, Sungchan,” you squeezed his arm before turning around to face the stage.

“Alright, we’re going to be getting started then.”

As Baekhyun kicked off the first round of bingo, you found yourself tapping the marker against the bingo card as you sat there. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sungchan awkwardly leaning over as he tried to look at the sheet too, and you realized you’d been hogging it.

“Oh, sorry, here,” you moved the sheet more into the middle, at the same time that you scooted your stool over towards him to lessen the gap between you. “Is that better?”

Sungchan’s shoulder was just behind yours as he looked over you at both the card and the stage. “Yeah, yeah, thanks.”

“Did you want to mark them off? Sorry, I just grabbed it without thinking.” You offered the permanent marker out to him.

“No, it’s all yours.” He shook his head, then tapped his finger to the middle spot. “But you did forget the Free Space.”

“Oh, shit, thanks.” You crossed it off with an X.

Baekhyun called out number after number, and you and Sungchan worked together to search the small card for them.

You clicked your tongue as you couldn’t find the one the shop owner had just called out, and were about to pick your cup back up to take another sip of your drink, when Sungchan spoke up happily.

“Found it!”

“Oh, where?” You hovered the marker over the card, scanning the little letters and numbers.

“Right there.” He’d pointed, but his hand was gone too fast, and you lost it again.

“Wait, where?”

“Right…” he reached over to wrap his own hand around yours that was holding the marker, and dragged it over to the correct square. You giggled as he guided your hand to draw a messy X like you were a toddler learning to write your letters for the first time. “…There.” He finished, letting go of your hand.

“Ahh, okay,” you nodded slowly. “I see… I’m illiterate.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to say it.”

“Hey!”

Sungchan laughed as you gave a half-hearted smack against his chest, and you couldn’t help but smile too. After all, it was your self-deprecating joke first.

He patted your back, apologizing through his chuckles, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Apology taken under consideration.”

“Oof, I don’t like the sound of that. Anything I can do to better my chances here?”

“Hmm,” you hummed, pretending to think as you tapped the capped end of the marker against your bottom lip.

Sungchan watched you, his elbow resting on the bartop and his cheek in his hand. The only thing separating you two was the bingo sheet, the game which you weren’t even focused on anymore. Your back was entirely turned to the stage now, gaze set only on the werewolf next to you.

Just as you’d parted your lips to make your proposal, you happened to hear Baekhyun announce the next number.

“O13!” The siren’s voice carried well through the speakers. “O13!”

You let your eyes flick down, immediately catching on that open square on your card. And it completed the row. You marked it off, a giddy grin spreading across your face as you went to elbow Sungchan. “Look!”

“Oh damn! Nice!” He raised his hand, as did you, as he called out. “Bingo! We got bingo!”

Baekhyun’s features lit up as he stopped his progress of reaching for the next bingo ball. He practically purred into the microphone, “Well, well, seems like we’ve got our first bingo. If one of you could read it out so I can double-check it, then we’ll see about getting you two your prizes.”

Sungchan called out your five spaces, and Baekhyun nodded with each one, the room erupting into applause when he declared that you two had won that round.

“Alright, come up here so I can give you your prizes and punch your tickets.” The siren waved you up.

You looked to Sungchan expectantly, and he gestured for you to go up ahead of him. Instead, feeling a bit uneasy with the entire café’s eyes on you, you latched onto his forearm and dragged him up right alongside you.

“So you each are getting a gift card to the shop—” He handed you two small cards, then turned around, where Yuta had appeared with a couple more items. Baekhyun then handed each of you a denim baseball cap that had the logo of the shop on the front in lilac purple thread. “And Jasmine & Pearls embroidered hats. Thank you so much for coming here and playing.”

You accepted both prizes from him, feeling over the embroidery on the cap with your finger.

“And if you’d give me your event punch cards, I’ll go ahead and give you your punches now, since you unfortunately, won’t be allowed to play to win again. Fairness and all that.”

You and Sungchan handed over your punch cards, and the siren gave each of you another heart-shaped punch before giving them back.

“Now, we will be playing two more rounds, so don’t worry if you didn’t win this time,” he announced to the rest of the crowd as you and Sungchan headed back to your seats. “I’ll hand out brand new cards to everybody, and we’ll restart. Y/N and Sungchan, you’re free to play again for fun, if you’d like. You just can’t play for profit.”

Sungchan looked over at you in a silent question, and you shook your head. You were happy to play and win just the one time. After all, with everybody else still occupied, this would be the perfect time to do the other activities with little to no lines or crowding.

“No thank you, we’re bingo-ed out for tonight,” Sungchan called out, and the host nodded graciously.

“Very well. Everybody else hold tight while I come around to distribute new cards.”

As the two of you finally sat back down at your seats and looked over your prizes, you realized that you had never introduced yourself to Baekhyun. Not when he had passed out the cards, nor when he was giving you your prizes. But he knew your names. You snapped your head up towards the counter suspiciously again, but Shotaro was once again minding his business, cleaning out one of the machines.

Sungchan was readjusting the sizing of his hat, then finally pulled it on, offering you a lopsided grin. “What do you think?”

“Looks good on you.” You tapped the brim of it, feeling a familiar airiness in your chest, one that you hadn’t felt in some time. “You wear baseball caps a lot?”

“For sure, so I’ll get good use out of this.”

“Wear them for fashion or do you play a lot of sports?”

“Oh, uh, both, I guess? I like how they look, and I usually wear them when I’m out playing whatever to keep the Sun off my face, yeah.”

The pictures from Jeno’s Instagram of Sungchan on their trip to Cape Solaria suddenly came to mind, and you diverted your eyes down to the gift card in your hand as your skin started getting warmer and warmer. At this rate, he was going to be able to hear your heartbeat picking up the pace and the idea of that in and of itself was embarrassing enough to make it gain even more speed.

“So…” Sungchan inhaled, and you looked up with both your eyebrows raised.

Admittedly, you’d completely forgotten where the two of you were in your previous conversation. “Hm?”

“Do you want to finish the other two punches together?” He asked. “I know they’re not partner things, but we’re both here, and everyone else is busy doing bingo, so it’s probably the best time to do them and—”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking.” You grinned at him, standing up off your stool. “I’d love to, Sungchan. Besides, you’re still supposed to tell me about your research, remember?”

His features lit up as he followed you over to the origami station. “Right, right! Are you sure you want to hear about it, though? It’s on climate change and how it affects human disease, it’s a little doomsday-ish.”

“Ah, perfect for the holiday.” You pointed to the giant paper cut-out of a cartoon Cupid hanging above your heads, then reached for your first square of red paper. “I’m sure, go for it.”

“Okay, cool,” he beamed at you, grabbing a piece of patterned pink paper.

As Sungchan walked you through all the intricacies and machinations of the topic that his research with his professor was on, you were genuinely happy at how much you understood. He didn’t mind slowing down to answer your questions, or explain concepts that you didn’t know already. And you two could have an actual conversation tangential to the topic, because you had taken a Magical Conservation class just last semester that dealt directly with how climate change was affecting a lot of magical creatures, such as sirens who typically lived in and around glaciers that were now losing much of their native habitats due to the lack of year-round sea ice at the poles. And all the while, you both tried your damndest to make an origami heart.

“Okay, what the fuck?!” Sungchan huffed, cutting himself off in the middle of a thought about disease vectors. He smacked his crumpled piece of paper that looked nothing like a heart onto the table. “I’ve taken engineering classes, how am I getting bested by a primary school arts and crafts project?”

“It’s not a—”

“It literally says ages 8 and up on the instructions.”

You pressed your lips together in a line. “Ah. So it does.”

Yours didn’t look much better. It seemed as though you were both getting bested by a project meant for children.

“Well, Shotaro did say we just had to show him we tried and we’d get the punch,” you reminded him.

“No, no, I can get this,” he shook his head, grabbing a fresh sheet. “I just need to focus, and not talk while I do it. You’re too much of a distraction.”

“My apologies, I’ll be quiet this time,” you chuckled, covering your mouth with your hand as you leaned against the table to watch him try again.

He made every fold with precision, but you found that you weren’t really watching him fold so much as you were watching him. His brow was set in concentration, a small crease emerging in the knit of his brows, his eyes narrowed slightly, and the very tip of his tongue poking out from between his lips. It was cute, adorable, endearing, everything in the thesaurus, and you could’ve sat there and watched him fold origami hearts all night if he wanted to, punch card and free drink be damned.

Sungchan stood up straight, his features relaxing into a proud grin as he held his completed piece up for you to see. It was definitely a heart this time, a simple baby pink color, and you were amazed at how straight the lines were.

“Nice, Sungchan!” You praised him. “That’s what those engineering classes were for, huh?”

“I wasn’t going to let some project for ages 8 and up that Shotaro picked out get the best of me!” He declared, and you could practically see his chest puffing out with pride. “I’m not going to give him the satisfaction.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “So that’s what this was? Fragile STEM major ego?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Isn’t sociology a science?”

“I think you’re the first hard science major to ever say that.”

“It ends in -ology.”

“So do phrenology and astrology.”

“Fair. But seriously, is it not?”

“It is. But usually, you engineering and whatnot majors don’t like to consider us ‘soft sciences’ like sociology and anthropology and psychology to be ‘real sciences,’ whatever the hell that means.”

“Ohh, yeah… I’ve got better shit to do than tell a scientist that they’re not a scientist.”

“Like make children’s crafts.”

“Exactly.” He gave you another smile brighter than the Sun.

You nodded firmly. “A much better use of your time. Now, are you ready to take these to Shotaro?”

“Yeah, let’s go!”

As the two of you walked up to the counter, you continued your earlier conversation, “And I will remind you that I’m actually an Interdisciplinary major, and also study MCS. Both of which are considered humanities, a label that I wear with pride, even more so than the ‘soft science’ one.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Sungchan’s mouth as he looked down at you. “Noted.”

Shotaro was standing at the register, hands folded over each other and a smug smile on his face as he watched the two of you approach together. “Well, hey, guys! Congrats on your win!”

“Thanks, Shotaro.” You smiled back, holding your paper heart out to him. “We did the origami too.”

Sungchan held his up too, and you could see the proud look on his face as he did so.

“His is a lot better than mine,” you admitted as the siren took just a second to appraise them. Seeing the two side-by-side, yours was a bit misshapen, folds across parts that were supposed to be flat from you having to undo and redo parts over and over again.

“That’s okay! You guys just had to try,” Shotaro reminded you, picking up the hole punch. “Punch cards please?”

With just one punch left, you and Sungchan headed over to the photobooth in the corner. It was set up so that you didn’t have to pay for any of the films. Sungchan climbed in first, and you watched nervously where his head almost hit the top of the entrance.

“Goddamn this thing is tiny,” he observed as soon as he had poked his head in past the curtain.

“Is it small or are you a giant?” You asked pointedly.

Sungchan had fully entered the photobooth then, and retorted back, “Get in here and find out.”

As you parted the curtain and put just your first foot in, you immediately realized how cramped the two of you were going to be. “Okay, maybe a bit of both.”

“Uh-huh.”

Sungchan was already sat on the bench, and pressed himself as far back into the corner as he could to give you enough space to sit next to him. Your leg was squished in next to his, and his arm ended up around your shoulders. He was warm, as expected for a werewolf, whose body temperatures all ran naturally higher than humans.

As he shifted his shoulders and arm to settle around you, he double-checked, “Sorry, is this alright? It’s tight in here—”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” you turned your head to give him a smile, but were instead caught off-guard by just how close his face was to yours. If either one of you shifted forward right now, you would hit noses. Your breath hitched in your throat as you made eye contact with him. Oh, he could definitely hear your heartbeat in the tiny space afforded by the photobooth, surely as clear as you could hear it thudding in your own ears. God, you’d always thought he was cute, but something about being so close, and the lights in here hitting the angles of his face just right, he was striking, handsome. You curled your hands into fists in the material of your pants, not trusting yourself not to grab him and do something too wildly out of pocket.

The screen played a short melody at you, knocking you from your trance, and you turned your focus back to your task.

Pressing a couple buttons on the touchscreen, you looked between the height of the camera and Sungchan, squinting. “Is your head even going to show in frame?”

Sungchan swallowed, then cleared his throat before he spoke, as if his mouth had gone dry. “Guess we’ll find out after.”

“Alright, it’s a four-cut.” You announced after skimming the easy illustrated instructions. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” He gave you a thumbs up.

“Okay. 1, 2, 3.” You pressed the start button before sitting back in your seat against him again.

You smiled and held up a peace sign for the first one, and in the split second of the flash going off, you heard the werewolf next to you curse under his breath, “Fuck! That’s bright—” accompanied by the feeling of him flinching back, and immediately followed by a distinct thud.

Turning around as much as the space could allow for, you saw Sungchan curled in on himself, his eyes squinted shut presumably both in pain from the flash and from where he had just smacked the back of his head against the wall of the photobooth, judging by the hand he was cradling it with.

“Ooh! Sungchan, are you alright?” You asked through giggles, unable to get over the comical thunk! sound that his head had made.

Another flash went off, startling him into hitting his head again with another bonk! and this time you couldn’t help but burst out into full-bodied laughter, turning back toward the camera to not laugh directly in the poor guy’s face. You could barely see the third and fourth flashes because your eyes were squeezed shut as you laughed, running out of air and having to prop yourself up with a hand on Sungchan’s knee to not keel over.

Finally, you started sobering up enough to squint your eyes back open, and through your tears, you saw Sungchan smiling down at you as well.

“Alright, I don’t know if it was that funny…” he sighed, still holding his head.

“I’m-I’m sorry,” you tried to apologize through your wheezes. “It was the sound, and the two in a row, it was just too much for me. I’m not laughing at your pain, I promise. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m alright. Thanks.” He reassured you, dropping his hand from his head and resting it on the one that you still had on his knee. “I… I really like your laugh.”

Your hand suddenly tingled. “Oh. Thank you…”

After a beat, he shifted his gaze from yours. “So where do the films print out at?”

“Uh, on the outside of the booth. Should be two, one for each of us.” You said quickly, getting up to exit the booth and put some space between the two of you again.

Sungchan followed you out, and you easily found the dispenser, where there were in fact two film strips. He grabbed them for you, looking over them first. A smile spread across his face as he continued holding them, and you started getting antsy the longer that you hadn’t seen them.

“What, are they that bad?” You asked with a light chuckle.

“What?” He snapped his focus up to you.

“You’ve been smiling at them for an awful long time. Did I blink or something?” You joked, knowing very well that you were laughing for half of them.

He sucked in air through his teeth, shaking his head regretfully. “Yeah, I think for your own sake, I should keep both of these. I mean, I look great but—”

“Sungchan, let me see!” You reached for them, but he yanked his hand back from you at the last second.

You lunged for them again, but he once again kept them just out of your reach, a sly grin on his lips. The next time you tried to grab them, he held them above his head, and he most unfortunately had a significant height advantage over you.

You were already in his personal space from grabbing for them before, practically chest-to-chest (well, really chest-to-face), and now had to crane your neck straight up to look at them. With a huff, out of breath, heart racing for more than one reason now, you weakly pulled on his shoulders as you pouted, “Sungchan, please!”

“Here, I warned you.” He said melodramatically, handing you one copy of the film strips.

You eagerly held it in both hands, scanning over the four pictures on it. The first one was normal, it looked like Sungchan had taken your lead and both of you were smiling and throwing up peace signs. The second one was where everything went to chaos. Sungchan was wincing in pain in the corner, holding his head, as you had the back of your head to the camera, one hand reaching uncertainly towards him. In the third, you were turned back towards the camera, a little blurry as you laughed, and Sungchan was squinting one eye open to look at you. And in the last one, you were still laughing, leaning on Sungchan for support as there was nothing but simple joy on your face; and Sungchan’s features had relaxed out of pain as he gazed down at you with a fond smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Not as wide as yours was, but no less dim.

“These are so cute! You liar!” You elbowed Sungchan in the side.

“You didn’t let me finish. I look great, but you look radiant.”

“Good save.” You joked, but couldn’t suppress the smitten grin that wormed its way across your face. “And I’m keeping mine.”

Sungchan reached into the pocket of his jacket then, pulling out his pristine, baby pink origami heart from earlier. He held it out to you. “I-I wanted you to have this, too.”

“Aw, Sungchan…” You accepted the paper heart from him.

“Feel free to throw it out when you get home, I get it.”

“Hey, stop that.” You pinched his forearm where the sleeve of his jacket had fallen down. “Don’t do something sweet and then immediately take all the sincerity away by covering it with a layer of self-deprecation. If you’re going to be a sweetheart, own up to it or don’t do it at all.”

He rubbed at the back of his neck, and you could see a flush creeping up from his collar to his cheeks. “You’re right. I wanted to give you that, sans trash can.”

You were beaming, tucking it into the inner pocket of your jacket and patting it. “Thank you, Sungchan. I’d offer you mine, but I think it really should go in the trash.”

“Look who’s not taking her own advice, hm?”

“Alright, if you want it,” you sighed, taking your own lumpy attempt at the origami heart out of your pocket and handing it over to him.

Sungchan plucked it from your fingers smugly. “Thank you.”

“I expect you to be buried with that now, by the way.”

“I’ll be sure to write it in my will.”

The two of you were still chuckling as you walked up to the counter again, your film strips and punch cards in hand to show them to Shotaro. Your siren friend reviewed the pictures with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“You guys are so cute,” he commented so very subtly. “But uh, what happened here, Sungchan? Did you hit your head on something? How did you manage that one?”

As you covered your mouth to hide your giggles at the memory of the double bonk! resurfacing, Sungchan took his film strip back from his roommate. “Alright, are you going to give us the punches or not?”

Shotaro punched the final heart-shaped holes into both your cards. “And with that you’ve completed all the punches! Unfortunately, you can’t redeem the free drink tonight, but by all means, you are more than welcome to stay and hang out some more. We’ve got extended hours tonight, so you can keep doing the activities if you like, or just, you know… stay and chat or something.”

“Right, thanks, Shotaro.” Sungchan led you away with a hand on your back.

You ended up back at your original seat that you had sat at for the bingo game. The game finished while you were in the photobooth, the other patrons now milling around the shop again. Some were sitting, sipping on their drinks and enjoying each other’s company, others at the origami stations, others lining up at the photobooth, and still others back at the register ordering again. You looked down at the film strip in your hands before tucking it away safely with Sungchan’s origami heart. Looking around, you saw that Baekhyun was making rounds now that he was done hosting bingo, greeting customers and having conversations with everyone he stopped to talk to.

You didn’t want to leave yet, to have this night be over, to have your time with Sungchan be done. At least not without knowing if you’d see him again. This had been fun, really fun, and you wanted to see him again. Every bad first impression of him you’d gotten from your date had been wiped away.

“Hey, Y/N?”

You snapped your focus back over to him at the sound of his voice, trepid and unsure. You offered him a reassuring smile as you replied, “Yeah, Sungchan?”

He had taken his hat off, and was messing with the seam along the bottom band nervously. “I know I already said this, but I really am sorry for everything I said to you before. I was so incredibly wrong about you.”

“And I’ve already said thank you, so I suppose I’ll say I forgive you this time.” You squeezed his forearm. “So would you stop apologizing now?”

“I know we can’t start over completely, but…”

“Yes?” Your voice pitched up hopefully, your heart soaring along with it.

“Friends?”

Splat. Your heart plummeted back down with tremendous velocity.

It took all your willpower to keep your face from showing the disappointment you’d felt, and even then, you were sure it still fell minutely. You slapped on a rehearsed, customer service smile for him, too shocked that you’d apparently misread everything so badly to do much more than go through a script of what you should say. “Yeah, sure. Friends.”

Sungchan beamed at you, another heart-stopping, adorable, lopsided grin that now made your chest squeeze painfully. “Okay, great! Thank you, seriously!”

You threw open the door to Jasmine & Pearls the next morning so violently that it swung back the other way and rang the bell twice.

“Shotaro.”

The siren perked up to greet you. “Oh, Y/N! Back to redeem that free drink already, huh?”

“Sungchan here?” Your eyes flicked around the shop warily. You couldn’t see him, but now that you knew that the two of them were roommates, you had to be more careful.

“Oh, I see.” Your friend grinned, crossing his arms over his chest. “No, you just missed him, actually, he had class, popped in on his way to campus.”

“Thank god,” you groaned, collapsing into a stool near the pick-up counter, face in your arms.

“Uh, I’m going to make you a drink. Your usual?”

“Sure…” You mumbled, the sound even more muffled by your arms.

As Shotaro prepared the drink, he picked your conversation back up. “Now, what happened? You two looked like you were having a lot of fun last night. Not to pat myself on the back too hard.”

You lifted your head up just enough to rest your cheek on your arms so your friend could hear you when you spoke. “Did he tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“Remember that awful date I went on last month?”

“Vaguely.”

“And Sungchan went on a bad date the same night.”

“Yeah. Did he do some kind of ‘all cards on the table’ confessional with you to try to scare you off?” Shotaro sighed, tossing his hand towel over his shoulder and putting his hands on his hips. “Listen, don’t worry, I know he says he ruined his date that night, but really he’s a big puppy—don’t tell him I said that, he’ll tear my throat out.” He paused, as if realizing what he had just said. “And don’t worry about that ‘tear my throat out’ thing either, I swear he’s super sweet. Honestly, something must have been wrong with that girl, he’s not—”

“It was me.” You cut him off bluntly.

“Huh?”

“Sungchan and I were each other’s terrible date that night.”

The siren slapped a hand over his face with a groan. “Oh my god, what did he do?”

“Now you think he did something? Two seconds ago, you swore there was ‘something wrong with that girl.’” You raised your eyebrows.

“Yeah, but I know you, Y/N. Him saying he fucked up and made you walk out? I can believe that.”

“We don’t have time to unpack all of that, but thanks, I guess.” You settled your cheek in your hand instead. “Anyway, it was all a mismatch at the time. He had his reasons, and I had mine, and I left. I didn’t harbor any ill will towards him, nor had I even thought about him until last night.”

Shotaro snorted, placing your finished drink in front of you. “Oh, well, can’t say the same for him.”

“What?”

“Whatever he did, he felt terrible about it. He kept talking about how he wanted to apologize to you, but he didn’t think you’d want to see him.”

You blinked at him. “Seriously?”

“I just thought it was like when you accidentally say ‘you too’ when the waiter tells you to enjoy your food and then you can’t stop thinking about that interaction for the next six months.”

Remembering the gist of your very short conversation from your one and only date with Sungchan, you shook your head. “No, not quite.”

“But it seems like you two made up last night, right?” Shotaro asked, head tilted.

“Yes, last night was so much fun. It’s what our first date should have been. We got to talk, and get to know each other, and joke, and laugh, and maybe flirt a little bit; and he’s funny, and smart, and a lot of fun...” You explained, trailing off pitifully at the end.

“So what’s the catch?”

“Well, I don’t know why I thought that at the end of the night, when he said,” you dropped your voice to mimic Sungchan, “‘I know we can’t start over completely, but—’ I don’t know why I thought that was going to be followed up by him asking me out, but it wasn’t.”

The siren’s jaw dropped. “It wasn’t?”

“Nope. Friends...” You said with weak enthusiasm, giving him two thumbs-up and a feigned smile as if you were being held at gunpoint.

“Ooh, Y/N...” Shotaro grimaced.

You dropped your head into your hands in defeat. “And somehow I feel even stupider than I did leaving that date.”

“I’m going to ask him what the hell he’s thinking.”

“No the fuck you’re not!”

“Y/N—”

“I told you this in confidence, Osaki Shotaro, not so you could you blab how pathetic I am right back to him!”

“But I just did that with him to you.” He pointed out innocently. “Seems a bit unfair.”

“Thanks for just agreeing with me on the pathetic part.”

“Well—”

“You’re not helping!”

“I’m trying!” He threw his hands up in exasperation. With a sigh, he came up to lean against the counter, voice turning sympathetic once more. “Look, Sungchan probably just thinks that you would want nothing to do with him romantically after he ruined it so stupendously last time. So he doesn’t even want to put you in the awkward position of rejecting him again— or, he at least thinks you would reject him again.”

“You really think so?” You asked quietly, watching a bead of water run down the side of your cup.

“Best I can come up with.”

And all the hope in your chest puttered out like a limp, half-filled balloon. “So that was a guess.”

“I’m a siren, not a mindreader, sorry.”

“Ugh, I’ve got to go. Thanks, Shotaro. For the boba. You were useless otherwise.”

“Bye!” Your friend waved to you cheerily.

Being friends with Sungchan was pretty easy, actually. You already had a lot of the same friends (it was sort of weird that you hadn’t met before that date, you realized), and as long as somebody else was there, it was easy to ignore the ever-present, ever-growing crushing pain in your chest whenever you were with him. You didn’t like that it was like this, you hated being that person pining over one of their friends who had explicitly said that they just wanted to be friends. You’d tried to get yourself to feel like this about other guys—the cute phoenix in your Criminology class, or the funny gryphon that you were partnered up with for a project in your Introduction to Interdisciplinary class. But it was useless, your thoughts always came back Sungchan. And you weren’t friends with him in hopes that one day it would be different, either; you really didn’t want to be that friend. You were just enjoying Jung Sungchan, in whatever capacity you got him in.

And right now, that was a rather tenacious study buddy. When you’d off-handedly mentioned an upcoming test that you hadn’t studied for yet, he immediately made you compare schedules so that the two of you could do a study session before it. So now you were reviewing flash cards of some key concepts as Sungchan was hunched over a notebook of his own. Working on his research with his professor, you were pretty certain. He switched between his computer and handwritten notes so frequently that you weren’t sure how he kept it all straight, and all the numbers and Greek letters and letter letters made your head swim trying to decipher it. As long as it all made sense to him.

It all mostly made sense to you when he would explain it to you, if you were actually listening to the words he was saying and not just thinking about how nice his voice sounded, or how pretty he looked that day. Your brain was truly rotting from the inside out.

And you two were alone. You didn’t know if he had invited any of your other friends and they couldn’t make it or if this was a “just us” thing. That was something that he did that always made it so hard for you to keep your rule of never hoping for more. Sometimes you two would hang out and invite Shotaro and Jaemin and Jeno and Jeno’s girlfriend and maybe even some more of their friends that you weren’t as familiar with; and sometimes when you’d ask if you should invite anybody, Sungchan would reply with a shoulder shrug and a casual non-explanation that this should be a “just us” thing. You could never delineate what made an activity worthy of a group invite or a “just us” thing.

You stared at your screen with immense focus. Not on what was on the screen, your thoughts had long drifted from dryad folk tales and were now in an endless rumination on what the hell a “just us” thing was. You’d been to group study sessions and study sessions with just Sungchan. Group movie nights and movie nights alone with Sungchan—those were an especially bittersweet kind of awful, as he liked to share blankets. Group dinners and dinners with just the two of you. So what made something a “just us” activity? What was the—

Something in your periphery caught your attention, and snapped you out of your pensive thoughts that you’d been stewing in. It was a small, white, origami heart being pushed up from the bottom corner of your computer screen. You took it, smiling at Sungchan across the table from you, who sat up straight now that he no longer had to reach so far to deliver it to you.

Upon second glance, it looked like the heart was made out of notebook paper from his spiral notebook with notes on it in blue ink. You squinted to make out some of It in his messy scrawl, but gave up after reading just a portion of a complicated, technical word.

“Thanks, Sungchan.” You ran your fingertip along the crisp edge of the paper heart.

This had been one habit he’d picked up since the Valentine’s Day event at Jasmine & Pearls, he now made origami hearts whenever his fingers grew restless and he had access to a suitable piece of paper that could be torn to size if needed. You were usually the target of receiving them and now had a steadily growing collection in a small jar on your coffee table. You didn’t have it in you to throw them away.

“Something wrong, Y/N?” Sungchan asked. He had presumably noted the intense way you’d been staring at your screen the moments prior. “Or is the material just that bad for your test?”

“Ehh…” You sighed, rolling your neck out. “Just tired. Ready for the semester to be over, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Is this made of your notes, by the way?” You held up the origami heart.

“Stuff I had to rip out and redo, I messed it up.”

You then stood up to crack your back, groaning at the cathartic cracking sounds that came with it. “God, I think my spine needs to be folded up like that origami, holy shit.”

“Fix your posture,” Sungchan snorted. “You sit like a little shrimp using a computer.”

Your jaw dropped as you put a hand to your chest, unsure of whether to laugh or be offended. Ultimately, you keeled over with laughter, having to plop back down in your desk chair—hunched over—to catch your breath again. Sungchan was watching you with a fond smile, reclined back in his chair with some not very great posture himself.

“A shrimp?”

“A little shrimp,” he corrected you. “A cute little shrimp using her little computer and fucking up her back in the process.”

“Alright, it’s not my fault you’re literally a tree. Anybody is a little shrimp compared to the man who almost broke a photobooth because he was too tall for it,” you teased him back through the fresh squeezing of your chest at him calling you ‘cute,’ even if it was followed by the words ‘little shrimp.’

“You’re never letting me live that one down, huh?”

“Never. I’ll be telling that story at your funeral, where you’ll be buried with my mangled origami heart, remember?”

“You’re banking on the fact that you’re going to outlive me in this scenario.”

“Right, my bad. Werewolves are the hardier species, so obviously you’ll outlive me.”

“Well, statistically—”

“Statistics say nothing about the power of spite, Sungchan. I will outlive you out of spite, so that I can tell that story at your funeral. And if not, I will have a backup recording of me telling that story, and in my will, have orders that it be played at your funeral.”

“You’re going to put it in your will to make sure you have the last word in case I outlive you? Which, statistically, I will.”

“Yes.”

The two of you held your defiant eye contact for another moment before you burst out in coordinated laughter, all tension fizzling out.

“I do expect that fucked-up origami heart to go down with you, though,” you pointed at him through your laughs, still only half-serious.

“Only if one of the hundreds I’ve given you by now makes it down with you,” he nodded, holding his pinky finger out.

You linked yours with it. “Deal.”

“Deal.”

As you walked out of the library together after you’d finally determined that your studying was over, Sungchan checked his watch.

“You doing anything else tonight?” He asked.

“Nothing in particular.” You shrugged. “Eating dinner. Sleeping. Why?”

“Want to come over?”

“Is Shotaro going to be home?”

“He’s closing at the shop today I think.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. Apparently sensing your hesitation, Sungchan nudged your side as he teased, “What? Am I not fun enough for you? You need Shotaro there to convince you to come over, too?”

“Yeah, you’re such a snoozefest, Sungchan,” you wrinkled your nose, elbowing him back. “Taro’s the only thing that keeps me from falling asleep every time I’m over at your place.”

“You hurt me, Y/N.”

With a melodramatic sigh, you relented, “I suppose I’ll make an exception. But I will nap where I see fit if you bore me too much.”

“I’ll take my victories where I can get them.”

At Shotaro and Sungchan’s place, you followed Sungchan into his bedroom. Normally, if Shotaro were home, the three of you would all hang out in their living room. But it was just you and Sungchan.

He toed his shoes off and flopped onto his bed face-first, spread-eagle.

“Oh, and who were we worried about taking a nap?” You scoffed, taking his desk chair. He had a gridded whiteboard above his desk that was mostly taken up by a to-do list of upcoming deadlines. But a small area labeled “Notes” by the company who made it was dedicated to pictures instead: the film strip of you two from Valentine’s Day at Jasmine & Pearls hung there by a magnet in the shape of a hurricane, a picture from the group trip to Cape Solaria from last summer under a tornado, and another of a younger Sungchan and Shotaro (early high school if you had to guess) at an arcade pinned by a tsunami.

Your friend rolled over onto his back. “I’m not napping, just basking.”

“Basking? In what?”

“Being done with today.”

“Have a bad day?”

“Just long. Had a long week, long semester, long three years.”

“Mm, felt that,” you agreed, knocking your own shoes off and folding your legs up in the desk chair.

The two of you were quiet for a while, and you would’ve thought that Sungchan had actually fallen asleep, if you couldn’t see that his eyes were open as he apparently just stared at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling with even breaths. You let the silence remain, content to just rest your arms on the back of the chair with your chin atop them, and look at him.

“Y/N?” He finally spoke, his voice soft.

“Yeah?”

Sungchan’s head lolled so he could look over at you, his warm brown eyes focused on your face. He had an unreadable expression on his features; not one of sadness, or pain, or really much of anything. It was like he didn’t even know what he was feeling. “Have you gone on a date? Since... you know, the one we went on?”

You blinked. You weren’t sure what exactly you were expecting him to say, but it wasn’t that. After a moment, you shook your head. “No, I haven’t. Have you?”

The corner of his lip twitched, but from your positions, you couldn’t tell if it was pulling towards a smile or a frown. “No.”

Another beat of silence. You continued staring at each other.

“Do you want to?” He asked, his voice so unnaturally devoid of intonation that you once again couldn’t glean the purpose of this discussion.

“What?” The word tumbled out of your mouth fast, defensively.

“I-I mean, are you going to? Like, is there anybody...?”

You looked at him, taking a good few seconds before you answered. He at least seemed nervous now, stuttering, his eyes flitting between you and the ceiling fan.

“No.” You answered plainly. No qualifying statements: any attempts at expounding would just land you in trouble. “You?”

“No...” He echoed. “You would tell me, right? If you were?”

This felt like a trap. Not from Sungchan, you knew he wasn’t like that, but from the Universe, somehow. And no matter what you did, you were going to fall into the spike pit.

“Yeah, Sungchan, of course.” You mustered up your well-practiced casual smile. “Always need approval from the counsel of friends for that kind of stuff.”

He did smile at that—not a full one with teeth, and it didn’t reach his eyes—but he smiled and nodded. “Good. Got to make sure they’re not a weirdo. You know there’s all kinds of magical creatures who will just date human women for the ego trip in bed, right?”

“I did know that,” you chuckled. “But thanks for looking out for me.”

“Always am, Y/N. And I always will be.”

Rocking back and forth from your heels to your toes nervously, you kept your eyes trained on the apartment door in front of you. Sungchan knocked on it. Your actions were stopped by your friend grabbing your arm and pulling you back down to flat feet.

“Y/N, I told you it’s going to be fine, seriously. They’re your friends, too,” he reminded you for probably the twelfth time that day.

When he’d randomly texted you earlier that morning asking if you wanted to go to Jeno’s birthday party with him tonight, you were very hesitant to accept. Mostly because you hadn’t received an invite from the birthday wolf himself. But after some more pestering from Sungchan, you gave in. Maybe if you didn’t have such a weak heart, you would’ve been firmer on your no. But instead, here you were, having signed your name under Sungchan’s on the birthday card the two of you bought on your way over, a gift card tucked inside with enough money pre-loaded on it to cover a nice meal for Jeno and his girlfriend.

“Then why didn’t he—” Your whispered question was cut off by the door swinging open, the bright smile of Lee Jeno greeting you.

“Hey guys, come on in!” The werewolf opened the door even wider, not seeming surprised at all to see you there next to Sungchan. He gave the both of you hugs after closing the door behind you.

You patted his back in the hug, offering a sheepish smile, “Hey, Jeno, Happy Birthday. Sorry to just show up. Sungchan insisted it was fine…”

“Oh, don’t worry about it! Everyone knows if we’re inviting Sungchan that we’re inviting you, too. It’s cool.” He said brightly. “You want something to drink?”

Trying not to get stuck on that little information bomb he’d dropped so casually, you looked around the fairly packed apartment, recognizing most everyone who was there, including a couple people by the drinks table. “You know, I see Jaemin and Donghyuck over by the drinks, I’ll go get it myself. Thank you, though, and Happy Birthday again.”

Jeno perked up in a different direction as if he’d heard his name being called—which he very well could’ve with his superior hearing—and he took off, disappearing into the kitchen. You’d been to Jeno and Jaemin’s place a few times before, mostly to hang out with Jaemin over the time that you’d known the dryad from Bot Club, and more recently, a couple times for group hangouts since Jaemin, Jeno, Jeno’s girlfriend, and Sungchan were all friends.

“I’m going to get some food,” Sungchan nodded towards the same direction Jeno had gone in. “Want anything?”

You stood on your tiptoes, unable to discern any of the options they had available, other than the fact there would be a lot of it to feed the werewolf guests. “Just get extra of whatever you think I’ll like, I’m not very hungry right now.”

“On it.”

While he went to do that, you made your way across the living room to the two dryads you had spotted earlier, both standing by the drinks table.

“Hey…” You said, still feeling awkward despite Jeno’s easy acceptance of you.

“Y/N! Hey!” Donghyuck greeted you cheerily.

“You made it!” Jaemin gave you a one-armed hug.

“Sounds like you were expecting me then?”

“Well, yeah.” Donghyuck said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world (which was bewildering to you, considering you didn’t even know you were coming until this afternoon).

The two dryads exchanged a look.

“I mean, Sungchan was coming, so…” Jaemin shrugged.

Donghyuck peered around the party. “Speaking of, where’d your wolfboy go?”

“He went to get some food. And he’s not. my. wolfboy, you little shit.” You glared at him. “And don’t call him a wolfboy either, you know he doesn’t like to be called stuff like that. Call Jeno ‘puppy’ or whatever all you want but leave Sungchan out of it.”

“I thought he didn’t like dog terms, but wolf terms he was fine with, since he is a werewolf.” Jaemin said.

“Yeah.” Donghyuck nodded.

You put your hands on your hips with a frank sigh, “As if wolfboy isn’t also diminutive and meant to—”

“Woah, abort, abort, Y/N’s going into Renjun-mode.”

Jaemin looked over at the other dryad regretfully. “Worse than Renjun-mode, this isn’t just educational.”

“You two are so obnoxious, I’m going to stage a coup in Bot Club one of these days,” you declared with a scoff.

“Hey...” Another voice entered the conversation from over your shoulder, and you looked up to see Sungchan stepping in between you and Donghyuck, a plate loaded up with food in his hand.

“Speak of the wolf and he shall appear.” Donghyuck had a wicked grin on his face. You were amazed sometimes that he wasn’t a fairy.

“What were you guys talking about? Y/N didn’t look happy.”

“It was nothing, Sungchan, don’t worry about it.” You tried to reassure him, sending pointed stares at each of the dryads with you.

Donghyuck was apparently not going to let up, though. “Hey, Sungchan, you down to do a little thought experiment with me?”

“Thought experiment?” The werewolf echoed.

“Yeah, just real quick. I ask you a hypothetical question, you give me a hypothetical answer. Just for fun.”

“A thought experiment with Donghyuck. Sounds thrilling, sure.” Sungchan agreed humorously, popping a piece of food in his mouth.

“So, if someone were to call you dog-like terms—which we know you’re not cool with and would never do—who would you most be okay with doing that?”

The werewolf narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Why would anybody do that?”

“It’s a thought experiment, Sungchan, come on. Play in this space with me!” Donghyuck whined, shaking the other man’s shoulder.

“Let’s rephrase then,” Jaemin joined in, a mischievous glint in his eye. You looked around to make sure Chenle wasn’t secretly listening in or something, because this surely had to be the work of your fairy prince acquaintance. You spotted the fairy very engaged in his conversation with his dragon roommate Jisung and a few other people. It seemed like the two dryads really were just deciding to be the absolute worst all on their own.

“Narrower scope. Would you be okay with, for example, Y/N calling you stuff like that?”

“Why would she do that?” Sungchan asked, confused.

“Yeah, why would I do that?” You asked, angry. They were clearly trying to get at something specific, make him admit something.

Jaemin offered an example, “Well, you know, Jeno’s girlfriend calls him ‘pup’ as a term of endearment.”

“And why would I do that?!” You repeated, feeling your stomach drop to the floor at how exactly he stressed those words.

“We’re getting off-topic here, it’s all hypothetical, remember?” It was amazingly Donghyuck who sort of saved you. “We know Y/N would never do it. But like… if she did, for some reason unbeknownst to us, what would you do? Would you be okay with it?”

Sungchan’s brow was furrowed as he seemed to genuinely contemplate this while he ate another bite of food. You, meanwhile, were plotting how best to kill two dryads. You knew enough from Bot Club, maybe a super-strong version of the magical weed spray you used would work... Were dryads more plant or more person?

“Well…” The werewolf finally began his answer, seeming to choose each word carefully. “Since I know Y/N, I know that if she were, in this batshit, hypothetical scenario, to do that, that she wouldn’t mean it in a derogatory way. So I guess I’d be more okay with her doing it than other people. Definitely more than you two weirdos who are posing this thought experiment that isn’t fun at all.”

“Thank you, Sungchan.” Donghyuck grinned at him, then turned to Jaemin. “I thought that was very fun and enlightening. What about you, Jaemin?”

Jaemin nodded thoughtfully. “I had a great time. Y/N?”

“You guys are so fucking annoying.” You groaned, grabbing a piece of food from Sungchan’s plate. “Leave me out of your thought experiments next time, please.”

The spring semester ended not long after Jeno’s birthday party, and you very thankfully didn’t have to take any summer classes, freeing up a lot of spare time for you. Sungchan, on the other hand, had to take a couple courses in order to make sure he would graduate on time. While you jokingly whined and complained when he told you about it, you were secretly relieved to have extra reasons to avoid him. As terrible as that sounded.

This afternoon, while he was in class, you had gone down to the river with Shotaro and Yuta, who miraculously both had a day off work at the same time. You didn’t even realize Jasmine & Pearls had enough employees to let the both of them take the same day off.

You were sat in your pop-up chair on the small beachy area, pulling your phone from your bag to check it while the two sirens continued lazing about in the waist-deep water. There was a text from Sungchan from a few minutes ago, and as you opened it up to read it, you realized that he was just sending you a funny picture he’d found somewhere online.

[you: aren’t you supposed to be focusing on class right now?]

“Sungchan?” Shotaro called out to you knowingly.

“What?” You yelled back, holding a hand up to shadow your face from the sun. Looking around your chair, you grabbed your baseball cap that you’d won in Valentine’s Bingo, pulling that on now that you were out of the water.

“You’ve got this little smile on your face that you only get when Sungchan texts you.”

“No I do not.”

Yuta stood up from where he had been floating on his back, shaking the water out of his hair as he asked you with a smirk, “So you don’t have a text from Sungchan on your phone screen right now?”

Your phone buzzed then, a welcome excuse to not have to answer that.

[sungchan: allegedly]

[you: i don’t want you whining to me when you fail that class]

You clicked your phone off, showing them the blank screen. “Nope, nothing on my screen.”

“You’re such a liar,” Yuta sighed, saying it as if it were as simple of a fact as the sky being blue or the grass being green. He trudged through the water up the shore until he could join you, plopping down in his chair next to yours. They had both kept their legs this afternoon instead of bringing out their tails, and he kicked his apart as he got comfortable.

Shotaro jogged up from the water too, grabbing the cooler and rooting around in it for a second. After securing the other half of his sandwich from the lunch that you all had eaten earlier, he sat down next to Yuta, taking a big bite from it.

You took Yuta’s lead and settled back in your chair, closing your eyes and just enjoying the warmth of the late afternoon Sun.

“He talks about you all the time, by the way.” Shotaro cut into your peace and quiet. If you had something within arm’s reach other than your metal reusable water bottle, you would’ve thrown it at him.

“Shotaro...” You groaned, rolling your eyes. You didn’t even need to ask who he was talking about.

“Seriously! ‘Y/N and I did this today.’ ‘Don’t wait up for me, I’m going to the movies with Y/N.’ ‘Y/N told me this funny story today.’ ‘Did you know such and such about this or that? Y/N’s so smart.’” He admittedly did a pretty good Sungchan impression. You would’ve laughed at it in any other context, but instead you were just annoyed.

“Yeah, well, we’re friends. We hang out, and do things together. He’s going to be talking about me,” you snapped. “He talks about you a bunch too. Because you guys, you know, live together. He also talks about his professors, and Jeno, and—”

“But it’s not the same.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He insisted.

Shotaro clearly wasn’t going to let up, so you momentarily engaged this line of thinking, hoping you could squash it. “What’s so different, then?”

“He’ll find just any reason to bring you up, for one. We’re grocery shopping? ‘Oh, Y/N likes this flavor.’ ‘We should pick this up for when Y/N comes over.’ ‘Shotaro don’t get that, Y/N doesn’t like it.’” His impression turned more high-pitched and whining. “We’re watching TV? ‘This reminds me of when Y/N and I did this...’ ‘I bet Y/N would love this show, we should watch it the next time she comes over.’ ‘Y/N has a shirt just like that character.’ We’re hanging out with other people? ‘Hey Sungchan, what uh, what are you giggling at on your phone over there?’” He first kept his normal tone of voice, then switched into his over-the-top fake-Sungchan. “‘Oh, Y/N just texted me something funny. But it’s an inside joke, so you guys wouldn’t get it, sorry.’ ‘Man, I wish Y/N could’ve come, sucks she had to work.’”

“Are you done?” You asked tersely, unamused.

“I could go on ad nauseum—”

“One could argue you already have.”

Yuta snickered.

“—but let’s call it there.”

“Thank God.”

Shotaro wasn’t done with his spiel yet, though. “I have had multiple friends, when he’ll first bring you around somewhere, quietly ask me if you’re Sungchan’s girlfriend and they like, missed when you two started dating.”

“I get it, I get it.” You said firmly, bringing a hand up to rub your face.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Y/N, you’re an MCS major, I’m sure you’ve heard about what can happen to werewolves if there’s something discordant in their lives that isn’t alleviated?”

“You think he’s going to get pupsick because he’s allegedly got a crush on me?” You sputtered out in disbelief, your voice caught between a chuckle and a scoff at how absurd that sounded to you.

“It happened to Jeno.”

“Yeah, but he’s Jeno. With all due respect and no intention to kinkshame, he probably lets his girlfriend put a collar on him.”

Yuta shot up as he cackled, slapping his knee and coughing. He scrambled to grab his water bottle, taking a couple sips as he struggled to catch his breath.

Shotaro pushed on like you hadn’t said anything, “Now, I don’t want to have to put up with a pupsick Jung Sungchan, do you? That sounds awful. For me, obviously, since I live with him.”

“Shotaro, you are half-right about one thing.”

“And what’s that?” He asked smugly.

“I am kind of an MCS major. So I also know that Sungchan isn’t overly touchy with me, he hasn’t given me anything of his that smells like him, he doesn’t feed me, or do any other pre-mating behaviors that are ingrained in werewolves.” You ticked them each off on your fingers. “Look, I hate stereotyping you guys by your species. But if he’s apparently so down bad that he can’t help but talk about me every waking second of the day, wouldn’t at least one of these things that are literally instinctual to him have happened?”

Shotaro raised an eyebrow. “You do know that he’s half-werewolf, right?”

“What?” You blinked at him.

“Yeah, his mom’s a werewolf, and his dad’s a human.”

You’d had an MCS class on the Effects of Modern Integration, which had a unit specifically on the subject of cross-species offspring. Some species could have offspring together while others couldn’t, it depended both on genetic similarity and compatibility of their magic. With humans having no magic, that left only genetic similarity as a factor, making them a lot more compatible for producing such cross-species offspring. Werewolves and humans were one of the more common pairings to have such offspring, as they had one of the most extensive histories of living together.

Sungchan’s behavior on your first and only date immediately sprung to mind. His hesitance around humans dating werewolves just because they’re werewolves. “Are they...?”

“Happily married. They helped us move into our apartment last year.” Shotaro apparently knew exactly where your question was going. “But yeah, Sungchan’s half-human. As best I can tell, he’s kind of like a super-zen werewolf. Able to control everything a lot better than full werewolves because all of the wolf instincts and stuff aren’t as powerful.”

“He still shifts?” Despite the estimated number of half-werewolves being greater than the confirmed population of sphinxes, unicorns, and phoenixes combined, there was little actually known about them academically. It was all word of mouth, as no large-scale study had been able to be done on them. They were apparently reluctant to come forward and make themselves known to researchers. And their friends.

“Yeah, every full moon. Which I think is why he really just considers himself a werewolf.”

“I didn’t know,” you admitted, biting the inside of your cheek as you were still absorbing this information.

“Anyway, he can probably control whatever pre-mating instincts he does have a lot better than full werewolves!”

“And he’s probably doing that because he knows that you know what pre-mating behaviors look like and thinks you would get weirded out.” Yuta suggested, finally entering the conversation instead of just letting you two go back and forth over him. “Since you’re kind of an MCS major.”

“Exactly!”

You pursed your lips, an uneasiness creeping up on you about the whole situation. “I don’t know guys…”

“You said he doesn’t feed you?” Yuta questioned thoughtfully.

“No, he doesn’t. And you two are around us plenty, have either of you ever seen him try to?” You asked pointedly.

“No, but what Shotaro was saying about grocery shopping. He always buys your favorite foods, flavors he knows you likes, even makes Shotaro put stuff back that he knows you think are unappetizing.”

“I’ve never asked him to do anything like that.”

“And yet he does. Now, overly touchy is subjective. Does he—”

“No, we’re not doing this.” You cut him off, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Doing what?”

“Dissecting mine and Sungchan’s friendship and putting it up on a conspiracy board. I’m not playing. And if that’s all you guys are going to do, then I’m leaving.”

Shotaro jumped in, “Y/N, why can’t you even consider that—”

“Because he already asked to be friends and I said yes,” you said angrily, feeling your blood finally reach its boiling point. “I knew what I was getting myself into, and having you guys trying to convince me that it’s something that he already said it’s not, isn’t fucking helping.”

They were both quiet for a beat, and you clenched your jaw. You couldn’t keep sitting right now, you had to go somewhere, do something. If you stayed here, somebody’s feelings were going to get hurt. You stood up, stuffing all of your things haphazardly back into your bag. “Actually, fuck it, I’m leaving anyway.”

“Y/N, we didn’t mean to—”

“I know, you think you’re trying to help or whatever the fuck. But just drop it, okay?” You shoved your feet back in your shoes and slung your bag over your shoulder. “I need to go or I’m going to end up saying something nasty that I don’t really mean and regret it. I’ll see you guys later.”

And with that, you took off, leaving the chair you had borrowed from Yuta on the shore. You took your baseball cap back off to mess with your damp hair as you speedwalked down the city sidewalks. All the angry energy from wanting to just go off on your friends was still coursing through you, and despite Yuta having to pick you up and drive you the couple miles or so to the river, you figured that you might as well walk the whole way back home to blow off steam.

A little more than halfway home, your phone buzzed in your hand with a call, and you glanced at it intending to just send it to voicemail. But it was Sungchan. You stared down at it as you waited to cross a street, an unsure thumb hovering over your screen.

Glancing between your phone and the crosswalk signal, it changed to walk, and you rushed to cross. The call went to voicemail.

Just a few seconds later, your phone lit up with the missed call, a voicemail, then a text from him. You sighed, clicking on the voicemail first.

“Hey, Y/N,” Sungchan’s voice came through clearly. It sounded like he was outside, probably on campus and fresh out of class, if you had to guess by the time. “It’s Sungchan. Obviously. Uh, anyway, I just got out of class, wanted to see if you maybe wanted to come over? I know you’re supposed to be with Shotaro and Yuta, but Shotaro just texted me and said—well, it’s kind of a long story. Just let me know if you can come over, and I’ll tell you when you get here, okay? I’m headed back to my place right now. Okay, bye.”

Shotaro.

Still fucking meddling after you asked him to drop it. If you were less than halfway back from the river, you’d turn around and throttle him.

You checked the text from Sungchan.

[sungchan: hey! i’m out of class. are you busy?]

[you: i can be over in twenty. is that okay?]

You shifted uncomfortably as you stood in front of the front door to Shotaro and Sungchan’s apartment. Your hair wasn’t as damp thanks to your long walk in the hot Sun, and your skin was dry, but you still held yourself as you stared down the center of the white door. You hadn’t knocked yet. You didn’t want to know what Shotaro had told Sungchan, having already convinced yourself that it was everything. That you were about to walk into Friendzoning 2: Electric Boogaloo, this time with Letting Y/N Down Easy. It made your stomach churn, your chest squeeze like a vice around your heart, and your head feel like it had been cast in lead.

You shifted your weight between your feet on the welcome mat, trying to muster up the strength to just knock on the fucking door, when it swung open.

Sungchan was in a pair of dark sweatpants and a dark red t-shirt from your school’s astronomy club—dated for fall two years ago. He offered you a familiar smile, stepping back from the doorway to make room for you. “Hey, I thought I heard you. Come in.”

“Hey. And thanks.” You nodded, slipping by him into his apartment.

Wordlessly, he started leading the way further back towards his room. You longingly looked at the wide-open space of the living room as you disappeared down the hallway. In his bedroom, you saw his desk taken up by his laptop and a spread of notebooks and papers. His bookbag was in his desk chair.

“Sorry, I know that’s your usual spot, but I was doing some homework.” Sungchan had noticed where your gaze was focused. He patted the foot of his bed as he went to sit down against the headboard. “Come on, you can sit with me for once.”

You swallowed and nodded, stepping back out of your shoes and setting your bag down. Climbing onto the end of his bed, you sat with your legs criss-crossed, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap.

“So why did Shotaro text you?” You decided to just go straight into it. No small talk or pleasantries about his class or what homework he was working on. “What’d he say?”

“He told me that he told you that I’m half-werewolf,” Sungchan said bluntly. “I figured I owed you a bit more of an explanation.”

Oh. Well that wasn’t what you were expecting at all.

“You really don’t owe me anything, Sungchan,” you shook your head, your eyes trained on his comforter. “You don’t have to explain who you are to me if you don’t want to.”

“I want to.”

It was a touching sentiment, but it felt like a hot knife right in your gut. He wanted to because he cared about you as a friend. Not in the same way that you cared about him.

You could only manage a soft, “Okay…”

“It’s not some big secret, really. I’m not ashamed of my dad or anything. I love him, he’s a cool guy.” Sungchan started, and you felt like that first part was more to reassure you that it was okay for you to know. He was pointing to a picture that you’d seen a countless number of times before, hanging next to the mirror above his dresser. It was of him at his high school graduation, flanked on either side by his parents, proud, beaming smiles on all of their faces. You’d always assumed they were both werewolves when you’d looked at that picture, and only ever noticed that Sungchan got his smile from his mom, and his nose from his dad. The height difference between his mom and dad never really registered to you, as Sungchan towered over both of them, but now you did see that his mom was almost a head taller than his dad. Not a trait intrinsic to either species, just more of a trend.

But then, his tone turned a little more pensive, “I just... don’t tell people at first because I get a whole slew of questions, from the mundane stuff like ‘How was it growing up with one werewolf parent and one human parent?’ Which like... I don’t know, it was like growing up with two parents? To the people who think that I’m some oddity and therefore they can just ask me completely unprompted about what my dick looks like. And then at the end of it, it doesn’t really matter anyway. I’m just some dumb mutt to them, no matter how you look at it.”

“Sungchan—” His name came out of your mouth instinctually, pained, as you could only imagine what he had experienced to ever be able to call himself that, even cynically as he was doing now.

“It’s okay. I don’t really care about those kinds of people.” He reassured you, offering a small smile. “That’s why I don’t waste my time on them anymore. I just say I’m a werewolf, and eventually they’ll find out more if they need to.”

“I’m sorry, that Shotaro just—”

“Y/N, it’s fine, seriously. I’m okay with you knowing. I know you’re not going to be weird about it. And Shotaro knew that too; I’m sure however it came up in conversation, it made sense for him to tell you.”

You thought about the context of when Shotaro revealed Sungchan’s lineage, wincing minutely. “Okay. Thanks.”

“You can ask me questions, I don’t mind since it’s you.” He then added teasingly, “Come on, Miss Magical Creatures Studies, I know you want to…”

“Not because I think you’re some oddity to be studied, but because I care and I want to understand more about you…” You prefaced your question. “Shotaro said that you still shift every full moon. Are your shifts any different than full werewolves?”

“From what I can tell watching other wolves shift, it’s not as painful, for one. So, bonus!” He said the last word with mock excitement. “The shift itself doesn’t last as long. And some wolves, especially younger ones who are going through their first shifts, tend to get kind of moodier in the days leading up to the full moon. I never got that. Just, everything is kind of… less for me.”

“Everything?” You asked, brows furrowed with confusion.

“My senses are more heightened than a human’s but less than the average werewolf, when I’m not shifted.”

“Ah.”

“And I probably wouldn’t fare great in a werewolf arm wrestling championship,” he tacked on lightheartedly.

“Damn, I had you signed up in one for this weekend,” you joked, clicking your tongue in the back of your throat in fake disappointment. “Put money down and everything.”

He played along, “Well, I guess I can still try for you.”

You smiled to yourself, then looked up at him as you took a deep breath. Whether or not you two were here because you cared about each other in different ways, you at least still cared about each other. And you’d be an idiot to throw out that kind of connection. You’d have to suck it up, hunker down, and connect with him on his terms.

“Thanks for being so open about this with me, Sungchan. I know it wasn’t your choice to tell me, and I know you already said it wasn’t a secret either. But still, I feel... very grateful that you would want to share any part of yourself like this with me.” You tried to pick your words carefully, to convey as much genuine emotion as you could without veering too far into romantic territory. You could still easily picture yourself saying something like this to Jaemin, or Shotaro. Maybe not Donghyuck, though.

“Ah, what’s that?” Sungchan squeezed his eyes shut, a bashful smile coming to his face.

“What’s what?” You asked with a breathy chuckle, feigning offense. “Am I not allowed a moment of sincerity?”

“No, you’re not.” He said it in an overly joking tone, so you knew that he wasn’t actually upset with you.

“And why not?” You mimicked his tone.

He sighed, teasing falling from his voice as he fully leaned back against his headboard, seeming to take you in for a few seconds before answering. “Not if you’re going to be looking at me like that when you’re being all sincere.”

“Like what?”

“Never mind.”

“No, no sir. You do not get to start an avenue of conversation like that and not finish it,” you pointed at him accusingly. “What am I looking at you like?”

The werewolf held your gaze steadily as he said, “Like you want something more.”

You felt your stomach drop as you rushed to get up from his bed, putting even more distance between the two of you. “I’m sorry, Sungchan. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

He knew, he knew, he knew.

“Y/N, don’t get me wrong, please.” Sungchan stood up after you, grasping your hand before you could run out on instinct. His grip was loose so that you could leave if you wanted, but the presence was enough to let you know that he still wanted you there, to listen to him. His hand was warm as it held yours, but it burned like you’d grabbed red-hot metal. “I-I think you’re one of the most incredible, smart, fantastic people I’ve ever met. And I’m so grateful that you gave me a second chance.”

“But you don’t like me like that. Yeah, I can see where this is going.” You shook him off, searching the floor for your bag and shoes. This was going to be embarrassing, putting sneakers back on after getting rejected like that.

“No, I do.”

Sungchan’s words stopped you in your tracks, and you slowly turned back around to face him again. Your heart was a drum banging in your ears, you couldn’t trust that they weren’t all—your heart and your ears—playing tricks on you.

“You… what?” You were dumbfounded, staring up at him with a mixture of disbelief and thinly-veiled suspicion. You’d spent far too long convincing yourself that he just liked you as a friend to throw it all out over three words.

“I was going to ask you on another date, that night at the boba shop, I really was,” he explained. “But I realized just how lovely and wonderful you were. And I thought that you didn’t deserve... all the hatred that would come with it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I love my parents, but growing up I got to see firsthand just the worst sorts of people… The things that my parents would be called, that I would get called, by other humans and other werewolves. It’s gotten a lot better, but I mean, Jeno’s girlfriend got called a knotslut at the park out of nowhere. And you don’t deserve to have that be your life.”

You narrowed your eyes up at him. “You think you’re not worth it?”

It was his turn to be thrown off-guard. “What?”

“You think that you, and being with you, aren’t worth it?” You reiterated.

“I wasn’t really thinking of it like that,” he admitted, scratching the back of his head.

“Do you think that? That you’re not worth it?”

“Well now that you say it like that, no, I don’t think that.” He frowned thoughtfully, his brow set with determination.

“And, I know you didn’t mean it like this, Sungchan, but you took the choice away from me. For a very sweet reason, I acknowledge that. But you didn’t give me a say in the matter. Imagine how that makes me feel.” You sighed, watching guilt flicker across his face. “I’m not going to pretend like I know at all what it was like for you growing up. Or what it’s like now. But I can tell you that I want this, that I want you. I want to be there for you, just like I know you’d be there for me if something ever did happen.”

“Of course I would be,” he declared.

Taking a step closer to him, you tentatively let a familiar airiness return to your chest, chasing out the painful squeeze that had been suffocating you since February. “See? We’ll have each other, Sungchan. Someone calling me something won’t matter as long as you’ll be there with me afterwards. You don’t have to prevent everything bad ever from happening, just hold my hand afterwards until it’s all better, okay?”

“Okay,” he nodded resolutely. “I can do that.”

“And I’ll do the same for you. Deal?” You held your pinky finger out to him.

He hooked his with yours. “Deal.”

Sungchan lowered your connected hands, and you watched curiously as he unlinked his pinky, only to turn your hand over with both of his and trace gentle circles into the palm of your hand with his pointer finger.

“Y/N?” He murmured.

You snapped your focus back up to his face at the sound of his voice, trepid and unsure. He was still gazing down at your hands as you replied, “Yes?”

“I know we really can’t start over completely now, but…”

“If you say ‘friends’ right now, even as a joke, I’m going to kill you with my bare hands, half-werewolf strength be damned.” You whispered through gritted teeth.

He sputtered out a chuckle, shaking his head fondly and the circles on your palm never slowing. “No, no, I wouldn’t do that to you. That would be a terrible joke.”

“Good.”

“I was going to ask...” He inhaled shakily, finally drawing his eyes up to yours. “If we could try that date again?”

A smile pulled at the corners of your mouth, and you nodded quickly. “Yeah, Sungchan. I’d love that.”

Sungchan beamed at you, a heart-stopping, adorable, lopsided grin that now made your chest flutter with hope. “Okay! Thank you, thank you!”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his enthusiasm. “You’re welcome.”

Leaping to your feet at the knock that just came from your front door, you ran to answer it. You threw the door open, abuzz with excitement.

It was just about a week later, and you and Sungchan were finally trying that date again. You’d actually seen him once in the intermittent days, at a previously scheduled group movie night at Jeno and Jaemin’s place. The two of you were all knowing smiles and questionably accidental bumps and brushes of skin under the blanket that you shared that night.

But tonight Sungchan was in your hallway, smiling nervously down at you. “Hi.”

“Hi, Sungchan.” You fidgeted with your shirt. He had specifically told you to dress casually and comfortable, but you still felt weirdly underdressed, even seeing that he was in a t-shirt and jeans himself.

“These are for you,” he said quietly, bringing out a bouquet of flowers from behind his back.

As you accepted them from him, you immediately realized that they were made of paper, intricately folded tulips, lilies, and roses of all colors. You couldn’t help but let out a small gasp, thinking about how much time it must have taken him. “An origami bouquet. Oh, Sungchan…”

“I figured you had plenty of hearts by now…” He said as he flushed from his neck upwards.

“They’re beautiful.” You got on your tiptoes, putting a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself as you pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”

His cheeks were bright pink as you turned around to set them down inside, then looked back to him expectantly. The werewolf led the way out to the parking lot, except you didn’t see his car anywhere around. There was a familiar old blue pickup truck, however, which he was walking towards.

“Your car in the shop or something?” You asked curiously. “Why are you driving Yuta’s truck?”

“Utility.” He answered cryptically, opening the passenger door for you.

“What does that mean?” You questioned with a chuckle, scooting into the middle of the bench seat.

You’d gotten your seatbelt situated by the time Sungchan had walked around and opened the driver’s side. He didn’t seem to have been expecting you to be in the middle, pausing for a second, and looking around flustered as he climbed into the truck too.

“It’s a surprise, like I said,” he muttered, fastening his own seatbelt and starting the truck.

Sungchan drove with one hand on the wheel, the other on his leg next to yours. You drummed your fingers on your own knee contemplatively.

“Sungchan?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I hold your hand?”

“Wh— Yeah, of course.” He laughed shakily as you laced your fingers with his. “You don’t need to ask me about stuff like that.”

“Well you’re so tense right now that I was afraid that if I just grabbed your hand, you might freak and crash the car.”

He cringed. “So you can tell?”

“Yeah, I can tell.” You patted his arm with your other hand. “What’s got you so wound up? It’s just me.”

“Well, yeah, it’s you,” he repeated. “I’ve already messed up so many times with you. I don’t want to fuck up again.”

You contemplated this for a second, watching the passing streetlights. “Think about it like this: Could you possibly fuck up again worse than our first date?”

“I hope not.”

“Then you’re already off to a great start.”

“Y/N, I think you need higher standards,” he said without an ounce of humor or joking in his tone.

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter at that. “Sungchan, you made me an entire origami bouquet and organized a whole night out to surprise me. I think my standards are pretty okay.”

“Alright, but you’ve got to promise that this is my last chance. Like, three strikes and I’m out. Seriously, if I was some other guy, I would’ve told you to throw me to the curb a long time ago.”

You looked over at him incredulously. “Are you seriously advocating against yourself right now? Is this some kind of reverse psychology flirting technique that I’ve never heard of?”

“No, I’m just not going to stop being a good friend because you’re on a date with me. I told you I would always look out for you, and I meant it, even if it’s not in my best interest.”

Nodding with a raised eyebrow, you decided to take his advice at face value. “Okay, your input is noted as part of the council of friends’ round table on my new guy.”

You saw a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. “Good.”

“So, did you tell Shotaro what we were doing?” You asked, curious now that the topic of friends had been brought up.

“I told him we were hanging out.”

“Did you tell him it was a date?”

“No. Did you?”

“If I did, do you think you would have gotten out of your apartment unscathed?” You snorted.

“Fair point.”

The car ride passed with mostly idle chitchat, until he made a turn away from the city center, off onto a back road that you were unfamiliar with. The buildings gave way to trees, the streetlights being replaced only with moonlight and the headlights of the truck or any lone car that you would pass occasionally. A while later, the asphalt became a dirt road, the trees around you getting thicker and thicker. You looked around in interest as he slowed the truck to a stop in a clearing.

“We’re here?” You asked, looking over at him. Your eyes had long adjusted to the nighttime, and you could clearly make out his features.

“We’re here,” he confirmed with a nod, turning the vehicle off.

Sungchan climbed out, helping you down with a hand, and you immediately knew why he’d had both of you dress casually. You were in the middle of the woods, being led to the back of the truck by the hand by your date. He opened the tailgate, and let go of your hand to hop up into the empty bed.

“Wait there,” he requested, now well and good towering over you.

You nodded.

He retrieved a large duffel bag from the truck bed, and you looked curiously at everything he brought out of it. Pillow after pillow, blanket after blanket. The truck bed soon looked like a bed bed, and Sungchan came back over to plop down on the tailgate, toeing his shoes off and setting them aside at the end. He gestured to the bedding with little fanfare.

“All done!”

You hopped up next to him, pulling your shoes off as well and putting them away next to his. Looking at him with a knowing smirk, you nodded to the fact that the two of you were still sitting up. “Now what, Sung?”

“Ah, you’re going to make me spell it out?” He rubbed the back of his neck, ducking his head awkwardly.

“No,” you laughed. “I’m not.”

He took that as his cue to lay down first, leaving an open space right beside him. You settled into his side with no hesitation, resting your head on his chest as he pulled a final fluffy blanket over the two of you. Being a half-werewolf, Sungchan was pretty warm, but you were grateful for the extra comfort anyway.

Up above you two was a gorgeous expanse of a night sky. A waxing gibbous glowed down at you, stars twinkling and winking in and out at irregular intervals.

“It’s so peaceful…” He murmured quietly, shifting under you, still settling in.

“I don’t know, it’s kind of scary out here…”

Sungchan moved to sit up slightly, looking down at you with concern. “Really? You think so?”

“Yeah, what if there’s wolves?”

“Oh my god you’re so annoying,” he groaned, even as he readjusted his arms to hold you closer.

You, meanwhile, were giggling maniacally at your incredible joke, hiding your face in his shirt as you tried to recover. “You mean I’m the funniest person you know.”

“In your dreams.”

Looking back up at the sky, you pointed to a random speck of light. “Do you know what star that is?”

“Which one?” Sungchan asked, craning his head to try to get in your line of sight.

“I don’t know, any of them.” You dropped your hand back down to his front. “You’re in astronomy club, tell me about them, you big Earth Science nerd. Which I say with great affection and fondness.”

“Okay, so you see the Moon?”

“That’s not a star. I do know that.”

He chuckled, which you felt underneath your cheek. “I figured as much. So, starting at the Moon, if you go due North—” he pointed, and you tried your best to follow the path of his index finger. “The first and brightest star you can see. See it?”

“Yep!” You nodded, seeing the exact star he was talking about.

“Then go the right, just a little, there’s a pair of twin stars, see them?”

“Mm… mhm! Yes!”

“Okay, down, and over to the right some more, we’re tracing out the top of a head, then we’re going back up, there’s another pair of twin stars, you see?”

You squinted, losing the top of the head he was talking about, but finally found the second set of twin stars he’d mentioned. “Yeah, found them!”

“Cool. Straight down from that pair, we’re going to find one, two, then over to the left to get the chin, over and up to get the other cheek, and up to round out the head.”

You nodded, vaguely able to picture what he was talking about. “Okay… so whose head was that?”

“Oh, I get to teach Miss MCS Major something!” Sungchan teased.

“Interdisciplinary major…” You reminded him under your breath.

“So that was Lykos, the great wolf in the sky. As in, lycanthropy.”

“Back when scientists thought werewolves were humans with an affliction that could be passed on to other humans. The quote ‘condition’ they were diagnosed with was lycanthropy.” You easily pulled a basic definition of it from class. “Of course we know now that’s not true. Like witches, werewolves are an entirely different species, not just a variety of human. And there’s never been any credible account of a werewolf turning a human into a werewolf.”

“Why is it that humans just think everything is also a human, even when it very clearly is not?”

“Well, if I were to give us humans benefit of the doubt? Uh, to relate to it? Empathy? Recognition of yourself in the other? I mean, it’s better than labeling everything a monster and hunting it down. Which, we also did a bit of.”

“Us monsters did plenty hunting of you guys, too.”

“You say as if you’re not also half-human.”

“Hey,” he frowned down at you suspiciously. “Are you recognizing yourself in the other with me right now? I think we should really save that for the second date—”

“Oh, shut up!” You gave his front a smack as you let out an indignant scoff.

Sungchan was kicking his legs under the blanket as he laughed from his stomach, and when you looked up at him, you saw his eyes squeezed shut tight as he cackled. You watched him with a smitten smile, unable to even pretend to be annoyed for any longer as his guffaws petered out to chuckles then to giggles until he eventually sobered up, and settled his gaze with a heart-stopping grin on you.

The two of you were quiet for a moment, just looking at each other, then he broke the eye contact, turning his eyes back up to the stars. “Uhm— I didn’t finish telling you about Lykos.”

You settled back into your spot, and with your ear to his chest, you could hear that his heartbeat was faster than it’d been before. You wondered if he was thinking the same thing about yours in that moment.

“So, Lykos,” Sungchan picked up where he’d left off before. “You can easily find him by starting at the moon to find his left ear. According to werewolf stories, Lykos was the very first werewolf that we’re all descended from. Because he was so great and powerful, once he passed, his soul ascended to be in the stars to watch over all of his descendants.”

“Wow…” You looked at the stars harder, willing Lykos’ shape to be a little more visible to you than before.

“In astronomy, though, the two twin stars that make up his left ear are called LK 1C04 and LK 2C04. They’re both red giants.”

“Are they going to explode any time soon?”

“Stars are kind of always exploding,” he explained enthusiastically. “They’re perpetually combusting and performing nuclear fusion. Well, most stars, if they haven’t run out of fuel yet.”

“What about when they run out of fuel then?”

“Depends on how big they are. LK 1C04 and 2C04 are both red giants, so when they run out of fuel, they’ll turn into white dwarves. So instead of being a burning ball of gas, they’ll just be emitting a very faint light from the remaining energy leftover from their previous nuclear fusion reactions that they can no longer perform.”

“So they don’t get to go out with a bang.”

“No, not really.” Sungchan pointed up at the sky again. “Okay, you remember Lykos’ chin?”

“Yes…”

“So that’s actually the end of the tail of a squirrel, according to some dryad traditions, or a gecko in some human ones.”

Sungchan sketched out the next constellation for you, then relayed the accompanying folk tale. Some scientific factoids would be interspersed too, and you loved hearing the enthusiasm in his voice as he told you about something he was very clearly interested in. And at some point, with his legs tangled up in yours, your hand curled around his waist, your cheek pressed against his chest, his hand casually rubbing up and down your back underneath your top as he still spoke so eagerly, you found your attention slipping away from black holes and how legends of ancient wyvern society said this or that about some other constellation. You were suddenly grabbing him by the collar with two hands and yanking him over to look at you.

“Y/N?” He asked, absolute bewilderment in his features.

“Jung Sungchan, I’m going to say this once, and please don’t take this the wrong way,” you murmured, holding eye contact with him very seriously. “You’re very attractive when you talk about things that you’re passionate about, and if you don’t kiss me right now I think I’m going to explode.”

Sungchan didn’t need to be told twice, reaching up to cup your cheek. Despite your rather blunt and unromantic request, he still tenderly guided your lips to his. Your eyes fluttered shut as you melted into the kiss, the grip you had on his collar relaxing. His mouth was soft as he moved it ever so slightly against yours. His thumb stroked over your cheekbone, the hand on your back pulling you even closer to him. One of your hands grabbed his waist to anchor yourself down to something on Earth.

It ended all too soon for your liking, though. You were pretty sure you could kiss Jung Sungchan forever. He pressed one more quick kiss to the corner of your mouth before leaning back to drink you in.

“You’re so beautiful…” he murmured, stroking your cheek again.

“Sung?” You whispered.

“Hm?”

“Do you want to kiss me again?”

He nodded, and you leaned forward to bump your nose against his. A giddy smile spread across your face.

“Good. Me too.”

sequel :･ﾟ✧｡･:･*

⤷ blog masterlist  | anthology masterlist

[commsroom]

What is it you love so much about Eiffel? Asking as a fellow Eiffel Lover, I'm just interested in your response!

i've been holding onto this one for a while, in part because i know there's no complete answer to this and i could probably just talk forever, but it's almost his birthday, so... in the spirit of dougmas:

what i love about eiffel as a character is that he feels like a real person. he's full of these very human contradictions: he's a coward, he can be exceptionally brave, he's considerate and thoughtful, he's got his head up his ass, he's a mediator by nature, he's frustratingly stubborn and will dig his heels in about the pettiest things, he's very technically capable, he's a master of weaponized incompetence. he's stupid in ways only a very smart person can be, and has a certain kind of self-hating self-centeredness. he has very firmly held morals and wants to do right by people, and he struggles to reconcile those beliefs with the unforgivable things he's nonetheless done; he has very real and serious flaws that the narrative doesn't flinch away from, but neither exonerates nor condemns him for. he's so entangled with the heart of the show, its themes and relationships, that you couldn't have wolf 359 without doug eiffel, and - as a friend of mine once said - if you put eiffel in any other show, he'd turn it into something resembling wolf 359 as well. and as gabriel urbina said about pan-pan: "he's the communications officer; without him, they stop communicating." he's a compassionate portrayal of an addict, and a very real and nuanced example of a kind-hearted man who's still used to thinking of himself as the "default" kind of person, and is still learning how to deconstruct the biases that come with that.

what i love about eiffel as a person is that he's someone i'd want in my life. he's a very sincere and emotionally honest person; he doesn't have hidden agendas, and you know exactly where you stand with him. he hates authority, he hates work, and he won't suck up or pretend otherwise - in fact, he'll create more work for himself if it means he can avoid doing his job, on principle. if he has a grievance about something, oh, you'll know. at the same time, he has this infectious enthusiasm about the things he loves, and the things that excite him, and he's a geeky guy into primarily 80s/90s nostalgic media who doesn't feel the need to gatekeep. i love his voice, i love how expressive he is, i love how you can hear the same mannerisms you can see in the live show just in the very open-body-language way he emotes. he has a very distinct former class clown type of energy, and i think that goes hand in hand with an underlying loneliness. he can be pretty clueless, he speaks before he thinks and has chronic foot-in-mouth disease, but… doug eiffel is the kind of person who would notice if someone was standing alone in the corner at a party, and would go out of his way to make them feel included. he's good at getting people to open up, even if it's in spite of themselves, even if it's while they're rolling their eyes at him. he's a staunch pacifist who - even when things piss him off - doesn't react to conflict with violence or threats of violence, and he can't stand to have things stay bottled up: if there's one thing eiffel wants everyone to do, it's talk about it. whatever it is. he has a good balance of traits that make him feel genuine and warm without coming across preachy or suspiciously softened; he's also very much still a gross dirtbag with a lot of annoying flaws typical of some average guy, and that's a huge part of his appeal to me. he's good with his hands. he likes building stuff and taking things apart. he's rough around the edges in ways that reflect his life experience, and he's just… a guy who has lived a life, who has a lot of life experience, but hasn't made a lot of true friends in the process. he's gotten used to being lonely, and gotten used to telling himself he's fine with it, and something in me really aches for that.

his birthday is a good - and timely - example: he's a man in his 30s still holding onto childhood hurt, having his birthday forgotten and overshadowed by christmas. i'm also a christmas hater, so it's nice to have something else to celebrate and prioritize, and i like imagining his disgust at all of the unavoidable holiday trappings; it makes me feel less alone. i wouldn't say i relate to eiffel, more that i feel we have compatible issues, and it's not a secret that he's the type of guy i find attractive. he feels like a real person that i already know and love, and at the same time he's representative of the kind of person i'd like to know, like his life would fit comfortably into mine.

[gallusrostromegalus]

Something that you might have discussed that I just missed for AEIWAM - if Hell is basically Soul Rehab for souls that aren't Contributing Properly, then why does having high spiritual energy mean that you're more likely to go to Hell? Are they basically bleeding off excess energy from those souls, or?

Yes and no?

1. Hell is rehab for Souls that would damage the cycle of reincarnation*specifically*. People only go to hell for two* reasons: they do a lot of harm to others (aka Bad Karma), or when reincarnating them would throw the balance between worlds off (High power)

Basically, there needs to be... Approximately the same amount of spiritual energy in the living world, spirit world and Hell. So when an exceptionally powerful spirit like say, a Captain, dies and moves onto the next plane, there sort of needs to be 'room' for the incoming powerful soul. There usually isn't, and also the Life Machine that generates reality needs to eat, so Hell solves both problems by having really powerful souls come to hell and vent power for a while until they are only about as strong as a regular soul, and then send them back to the living world.

2. So, yes, the more powerful a soul, the more likely they are to go to Hell, no matter how they behave in the living or spirit world.

For people on the level of Gotei-13 captains, it's pretty much guaranteed, unless they manage to do something bizarre like drain all of their spiritual energy into a magical barrier or leave it stored in the Family Cursed Artifact (looking at you, Tsunyashiro clan). Lieutenants stand an estimated 50/50 chance (unless they learn Bankai in which case, again, guaranteed), and all seated officers are at some increased risk.

3. How they behave while alive still makes a difference though.

See, Hell in AEIWAM isn't *necessarily" The Bad Place. Souls cause harm to other souls for TONS of reasons that aren't evil: mental illness, getting caught in terrible circumstances, genuinely trying to make the world a better place and severely fucking up, and sometimes it's just bad luck. Hell isn't there to punish, it's there to figure out what went wrong that this soul hurt so many people, and try to fix it.

Sometimes that's things like "magically removing the ego and putting a different sized one in", sometimes it's "cognitive behavioral therapy" sometimes it's "you're not a bad person but you did fuck up so you gotta do a really boring and gross task that helps restore the ambient vibes of the universe for 400 years to balance out the damage" sometimes it's "actually, we can trust you to do good deeds, here's a visa to the living world to dole out minor miracles to anyone who needs it".

In AEIWAM, the only difference between a devil and an angel is that the angel does field work and the devil does back office.

So sure, all the captains are going to Hell at some point. But if they did their best while alive, they more or less get to skip rehab and have Free Time until they're weak enough to leave. It fun, actually! Captains and the like get assigned a Demonic Personal Assistant and told to go have fun, don't break anything, and are turned lose to go adventuring, get married, take up farming and/or stamp collecting or whatever they desire.

*note from above: there is a third "legitimate" way to enter Hell: Superlative Karma.

It's RARE, but once in a while a soul so vastly improves life for everyone else they end up with such extremely good karma that they run the risk of unbalancing the planes just by sheer vibes clash. Superlatives are plucked out of the cycle of reincarnation by Hell to help the spend some of that karma having a very literal HELL OF A GOOD TIME.

4. And so, all the planes of the wheel lived in harmony, UNTIL THE BOURGEOISIE ATTACKED.

Problem is, about... 1500ish years ago, a bunch of the noble houses got together, tricked The Monk Who Speaks The Name into letting them into the house of the guy that maintains The Life Machine, they very literally butchered The Divine Tech Support, and used parts of his body to jam up the wheel of life, because they thought they could be God better than God.

Dumbasses.

One of the things they jammed was the Exit from Hell, so now only a few people can leave at a time and the backup is threatening to unbalance the entire wheel now, so Hell is also being VERY VERY CAREFUL to not let any of the Captains die until they've gotten enough souls out that there is effectively 'room' for the Captain.

So yes. Higher spiritual power means a soul is guaranteed to go to Hell, at least for a while-but it also means they won't be going there for a long, LONG time.

[sapphicseasapphire]

OK I was thinking about the Chain as Cryptids AU earlier and got caught up in how many members of the Chain started life as a regular Hylian. Like Sky used to be Link and Aepon, but when they fused to make Sky he already was an Avian, so would Sky count as having been born a cryptid? Twilight, would he be considered born as a cryptid because wouldn't he have just been a regular Hylian before his God Powers awoke? Wild was a Hylian who died and came back as a mountain spirit, so does that mean he started life as a cryptid, or does his past life count. Time I know was Hylian and became a God through a trial, and he's still salty about it. Spirit was Hylian then he died and ended up a Reaper. Four, now Four I have no idea about, like was he always an absolute creature or did that only happen after the incident with the Four Sword? Legend, Wind, Warriors, and Hyrule were always non-Hylian races. Sorry for a bit of a ramble I just apparently really was curious about this.

(I forgot Might, he was a regular Hylian before his incident with the Rift as far as I know)

Okay so. Being a Cryptid doesn’t mean being ‘not Hylian.’ It means… being other. Being something that people don’t know about. Like… Zora and Gorons and Rito aren’t Hylians, but they’re not Cryptids. They’re not mysteries. And some of my Cryptids are only cryptic in the context of the story- it depends where they are or what era they’re in.

Sky is a True Cryptid, in that he is a mystery to even those in his own home, but he didn’t used to be. For the average Hylian, any Skoftian would be cryptic (Skyloftians and Hylians are different. Fundamentally). But because every soul is split, Link wasn’t anything unheard of. Until he and Aepon fused. Now he is a mystery to even himself. Just because he started as something familiar doesn’t make him any less mysterious now.

Twilight was 100% born a Cryptid. He’s always had Marks on his face, touched by the divine. He was discovered when he was young, and the people who raised him had genuinely NO IDEA what he was. He has always been a Cryptid (to them). And now that he’s met Time (and a certain other someone), he’s starting to understand more about himself. He’s becoming less of a mystery.

Wild’s life doesn’t matter. (To him). He doesn’t remember being Link and he’s perfectly content with his current state of being. He doesn’t feel like he’s lost anything and gets uncomfortable if his mortal life is ever brought up. He is probably the only actual real Cryptid in the group. He is unknowable. Untouchable. Truly and wholly incomprehensible. The subject of folklore in his own era.

Time and Spirit are in the same boat: they were born as normal average Hylians and then became something More. But… here’s the thing, guys. Time has always been a Cryptid. He was raised by a tree, surrounded by Kokiri (he was the Other. Fairyless. He aged and grew, he was a mystery to the eternal children). And when he left the Forest, he was such a social outcast among Hylians. Socialized by a talking tree and forest spirits??? No one knew what to make of him. He was cryptic then, and he’s cryptic now.

Four is a weird case. Among their people? At their home? They are nothing out of the ordinary. Four is one of many. Like Mer or Aquili, they have a group of others that are just like them. It’s only when they step out of their village- and even further, out of their era- that they become a Cryptid.

Hyrule is only a Cryptid because he’s an exceptionally powerful fairy who can change his shape to hide among Hylians (or even monsters, if he had to). He has his own folklore written about him in his own era, like Wild, only more…. ‘Kill on sight’ kind of stuff.

And Might??? NO ONE has seen anything like him before. Yes, he started out as a normal Hylian. But the rifts….. they steal things. They stole his voice. They stole his eye. They stole his humanity. He is 100% a Cryptid. The greatest mystery of his era. (Also the sweetest guy in the world, by the way).

I hope this explains things?

[jokeroutsubs]

Joker Out ‘Live From Arena Stožice’ - A triumph of unquestionable talent, youthful enthusiasm and dedicated work

ORIGINAL INTERVIEW BY ILKO ČULIĆ FOR RAVNO DO DNA, PUBLISHED ON 08.01.2024 ENGLISH TRANSLATION BY @moonlvster, PROOFREAD BY IG @GBOLEYN123

“Aha, that Slovenian band from Eurovision. Cute guys, but their music is for kids.” Nearly every attempt at explaining the quickly growing phenomenon Joker Out to those older and less informed gets stuck on this kind of reaction.

After the concert album “Live from Arena Stožice”, published by Virgin Records, and a rockumentary of the same name, directed by Mark Pirc, everything will be much clearer and hopefully there won’t be anyone who needs convincing that this Slovenian five-piece have emerged as the most exciting young pop rock band in the wider region, for now maybe even the only ones of their generation capacitated for the biggest venues in the post-Yugoslav area. This is a complete 90-minute recording of their triumphant concert in Ljubljana with 12,000 backing vocals and the right material for a major label deal, which nobody from these parts has been able to do in such a short period.

Yes, of course, Joker Out makes music for kids, or more precisely music for girls, as they always make up a majority of their audience. Photo and video documentation obtained from Stožice doesn’t differ from what was recorded a few weeks later at the Zagreb concerts in Tvornica Kulture, where the only older faces in the crowd were the security guards, accredited reporters and some caring mothers who didn’t want to leave their darling alone in the crowd under any circumstance.

Everything that happens with this band looks like an endless highschool party fueled by high-spirited youthful rock. However, the fact that Joker Out’s music is magnetically attractive to only girls isn’t a handicap, but a huge initial advantage, both in Ljubljana, Zagreb and Belgrade, as well as London and Manchester. The mass teenage hysteria once similarly helped Chuck Berry and Buddy Holly, the early Beatles and T.Rex, and more recently Franz Ferdinand and Arctic Monkeys, with whom rock was briefly youthful again.

On home turf, the famous new wave became quite an important factor of pop culture when it won over a highschool aged audience, and became an exceptionally profitable discographic investment when in big cities it reached even the upper classes in elementary school. In later stages, due to the unlucky combination of unfortunate demographic and discographic processes, we ran out of young bands as well as the youngest audience. Since there were no adequate regional responses to Franz Ferdinand and Arctic Monkeys, a defeatist way of thinking prevailed in the rock world, saying that new generations are generally uninterested in bands with guitars.

Joker Out sprinted into that empty space and simply smashed it. Eurovision was the launching pad for their international career, but the foundation for a sold out Stožice Arena was built two years prior when the band filled Cvetličarna, a venue with a capacity of up to 2000 people, with their debut album ‘Umazane misli’. In terms of the Slovenian rock scene those were already big numbers and irrefutable proof that the winners of Špil Liga in 2016 became serious players in the meantime.

After a phenomenally successful regional and European tour it was Arena Stožice’s turn, so by October Bojan Cvjetićanin, Jure Maček, Kris Guštin, Jan Peteh and Nace Jordan had the required number of played matches and enough confidence in them to transfer all of their current published songs to a concert album, meaning 23 songs in total. So, that includes the complete material from the ‘Umazane misli’ and ‘Demoni’ studio albums, two last years hits,’Carpe Diem’ and ‘Sunny Side of London’, as well as their first song back from their highschool days, ‘Kot srce, ki kri poganja’. When planning some kind of festival gig, they could make a selection and pick out their hits, but at an ambitiously planned 90-minute solo performance they had to play all they have and be very careful not to make a mistake in the song setlist.

For a furious opening, effectively complimented by the guest brass players, the chosen song was their recent single ‘Sunny Side of London’, the only song performed in English. Live it sounds like a final confirmation that Joker Out is an international band and like an excellent announcement for their upcoming spring European tour. The next song is ‘Gola’, the first out of many old favourites and the ultimate Slovenian teenager hit, which started a rarely seen euphoria in the audience.

After that the whole arena thunderously sings along with Bojan to ‘Bele sanje’, ‘Plastika’ and ‘Dopamin’ and ‘Demoni’, and the accumulated energy is just transferred from one song to the next without any oscillation. In the middle part of the concert, however, you can feel that Joker Out’s repertoire lacks a few more punchy songs. At least the fans won’t mind that at all, because with a flashback to their debut song ‘Kot srce, ki kri poganja’ they got an exclusive opportunity to watch and listen to the ex rhythm section with the drummer Matic Kovačič and bassist Martin Jurkovič. Less impressive are the extended versions of ‘Metulji’ and ‘Vem da greš’, where the compact three-minute forms from the first album are extended with guitar solos and stretched out into the too long six-minute versions. The ending of the concert, in which ‘Tokio’, ‘Umazane misli’, their new concert single ‘Ne bi smel’, generational anthem ‘Novi val’ and their biggest hit ‘Carpe Diem’ were incorporated, was performed flawlessly. Joker Out is at the level of the assignment, and ‘Live from Arena Stožice’ is the most complete edition. This concert album represents a triumph of unquestionable talent, youthful enthusiasm and dedicated work, but there’s something else at play.

Fifteen years ago the run-down Kino Šiška, a former iconic meeting place for punks of Ljubljana, was thoroughly remodelled and turned into the city's alternative culture institute. Ten years ago Kino Šiška announced a competition for highschool bands and started Špil Liga, regularly funded by the city. In the third season, Joker Out won Špil Liga. Today, Ljubljana has a band that it can proudly send to every European metropole. Their concert in Helsinki sold out three months in advance. That’s not crazy luck, but a smart cultural strategy.

Rating: 8/10

[minijenn]

Some common trends I've noticed in my Dreamworks watch so far:

Almost everything Dreamworks makes is Horny as hell to at least some extent (with the exceptions of Prince of Egypt and surprisingly, Madagascar)

Celebrity Voice Actors (for better or worse)

The Dreamworks Finale Dance Party is Real

There are swears in every single one of these movies (except, again, Prince of Egypt)

Along those lines, the kinds of jokes Dreamworks movies got away with in the 90s and early 2000s would probably never fly now

Dreamworks tends to release two movies each year, sometimes in very close proximity to each other. In almost every instance of this, one movie is fantastic or a cultural icon, while the other is absolute garbage or completely forgettable (Prince of Egypt vs Antz in 1998, Shrek 2 vs Shark Tale in 2004, and even later on, How to Train Your Dragon vs Shrek Forever After in 2010, just to name a few)

The two Aardman movies I've seen are, expectedly, exceptionally British

The plot of almost every Dreamworks movie can be summed up as "Because Woman" (what I mean by this is that usually the plot of any given Dreamworks movie is set into motion because one of the main characters is trying to get with a Woman) (except again, Prince of Egypt and Madagascar, later on I guess HTTYD and Kung Fu Panda too)

Despite several movies released close to very similar Disney movies (Antz to a Bug's Life, Shark Tale to Finding Nemo, Madagascar to The Wild and so on and so forth), the vibes are completely different from literally any Disney movie and I can respect that

2D Dreamworks women are so fucking beautiful all the time goddamn

Dreamworks villains tend to generally be much less memorable than Disney villains. Some of them are very one-note and just kinda... there (Tzekal-Kan, that general guy from Spirit, the general guy from Antz (what does Dreamworks have against general?), but the ones that are insanely memorable (Rameses, Mrs. Tweedy, Lord Farquaad, Eris) tend to be the most over the top and dramatic, I love them

I went ahead and watched a few Dreamworks holiday specials last night and lemme tell ya, they are Weird as fuck (Gift of the Night Fury is fantastic tho, I just about sobbed like a baby over this boy and his dragon all over again)

I hate this fucking studio but I'm also goddamn fascinated by them.

[deadn30n-arch]

BIOGRAPHY : LIU QINGGE

▲   𝐵𝐴𝑆𝐼𝐶𝑆   ▲

➢ 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄: 柳清歌  /  Liǔ Qīnggē ➣ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒: single  (  multiship  )  ➢ 𝐀𝐆𝐄: 34   ➣ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑:  cismale  ➢ 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:  aroace flux  (  capale of experiencing romantic attraction: rarely does ) ➣ 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: 6'1  (  approx.: 186cm )  ➢ 𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: uncomfirmed  ➣ 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐑: jet black  ➣ 𝐄𝐘𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐑:  light brown  ➣ 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘: unconfirmed  ➢𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄(𝐒): 柳巨巨 ( Liǔ Jù Jù ), 柳师弟 ( Liǔ Shīdì ), 柳师叔 ( Liǔ Shīshū ), War God of Bai Zhan Peak ➣ 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐒: human  ➣ 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆: KINGDOM  –  DOWNSTRAIT, AJ CHANNER

▲   𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘   ▲

to summarize it fairly simply  –  Liu Qingge is the kind of guy who, when asked ‘does this make me look fat’ he will look you dead in the eyes and say yes. not because he's mean-spirited, but because he's blunt and honest to the point it's almost considered a fault. his blunt and cold personality make him the kind of person you might have difficulty approaching. Liu Qingge isn't the type to fancy small talk or idle chatter  –  he had a tendency to keep to himself, but does lend his thoughts on a matter if asked. he can be quite oblivious to certain social cues around him, and doesn't easily pick up on hints when put right in front of him. if you aren't blunt, he probably won't understand. if you think he'll take care of you when you're sick, he's more likely to tell you to drink some water, take some medicine, and walk off. he's just that kind of person. he cares, but in a very non-obvious and extremely subtle way. you have to be close to him to understand the kind of personality he upholds. he's also noted to be quick-to-anger, especially when it comes to someone being disrespectful to himself or those he respects. he enjoys fighting… maybe a little too much.

▲  𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐒   ▲

he has a beauty mark under his right eye. his face is described as ‘a young master who picks flowers and arranges willows’. he's noted to be extremely beautiful, but exceptionally fierce. he is always seen carrying his sword Cheng Luan, and takes great pride in it. his long hair is pulled into a high ponytail on his head and he tends to wear a mixture of blue and silver adorned robes. his stature is tall and fairly muscular.

▲  𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒❓  spring weather, honing his cultivation skills, swordplay, shen qingqiu, liu mingyan ( his little sister ), fighting, loyalty, bitter teas, meats like beef and chicken.

▲  𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒❓  LUO BINGHE, LUO BINGHE, LUO BINGHE--, clingy people, people who touch him without permission, ignorant people,people who are shameless or lack decorum, thieves, people who disrespectful, thunderstorms, extreme heat.

▲   𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘   ▲

in the original script for Proud Immortal Demon Way, Liu Qingge was the equivalent of cannon fodder: dying fairly early on to suffering from a Qi Deviation. though the original Shen Qingqiu did actually attempt to save him, he ultimately failed. when Shen Yuan-now-Shen Qingqiu stumbles upon him Qi Deviating in seclusion, he actually manages to save him, turning Liu Qingge into an important side character in this new version of Proud Immortal Demon Way. Liu Qingge was born into a noble family and raised into cultivation. his powers were nothing short of extraordinary, and he experienced success at a very young age. he and Shen Qingqiu are martial brothers who studied underneath the same master, and eventually became Peak Lords of their respective peaks. in Liu Qingge's case, he took head of Bai Zhan Peak, known for it's martial prowess. after Shen Qingqiu saves him, he becomes quite loyal to him and battles Luo Binghe several times  –  not just for Shen Qingqiu's sake, but also because he's always been determined to be the strongest. but because Luo Binghe kept beating him, it eventually boiled down to a matter of pride. due to his position as Bai Zhan's master, he is often away more than not fighting various demons and monsters, returning later to test the martial skills of the peak's disciples ( ie: quite literally beat them up ). originally he had zero desire to take on a personal disciple, but after Shen Qingqiu jokes about Yang Yixuan becoming one, he later takes him on after Shen Qingqiu's self-detonation. 

images below the cut

[flameswallower]

recs?

Hi, guys! I am thirty four years old, and pretty much the only philosophy/ theory I’ve ever read is stuff I was assigned in college (I was studying English and visual art)— mostly excerpts from longer texts I don’t remember well anymore.

I do like to read, both fiction (short stories and novels, some poetry-- shh on the question “is poetry fiction,” I’m trying to make this brief) and nonfiction (usually middlebrow “popular” nonfiction, or at least nonfiction that deals with more concrete subject matter— eg a work about the conditions in modern American prisons, who gets sent to prison, and what prisoners think about their situation rather than, like, Foucault on prisons or whatever). However, I am a slow reader, particularly with material that requires a lot of thought or parsing, particularly particularly if it’s also the case that I find the material somewhat boring or impenetrable in places. I have been about thirty pages into Hegel’s preface to the Phenomenology of Spirit for like a year now!

I would like recommendations of key texts, or even chapters/excerpts from key texts, in philosophy, leftist (anarchist or socialist) political thought, academic theory, etc. that meet some (say, at least two) of the following criteria:

Easy to pick up and put down and come back to without losing track of too much

Short

Written in a relatively simple, straightforward, and/or concrete style (vocabulary is not an issue if the meanings of all novel terms and unconventionally used terms are clearly explained in the text or very easy to guess from context— but long sentences with convoluted syntax are often an impediment for me)

“Flashy,” ie exceptionally humorous, on-its-face interesting to someone without a pre-existing love of theory, exciting, beautiful, poetic, written in a way that might “grab” a person with severe ADHD and draw them in and keep their attention without a moment-to-moment struggle

I’m looking for things that are crucial reading in and of themselves, things that an unsophisticated person could use as a step towards understanding more complicated "crucial" works, and things that might be interesting to me specifically and personally (like, if you're reading this and you know me). It’s okay if you recommend something I’ve actually already read (VERY unlikely), I’m just looking for ideas here.

Please do not recommend that I read any TERFs or crypto-TERFs. At this point, right now, I don't want to do that even "so I can understand the history of second-wave feminist thought"/"so I can understand how my opponents think"/etc.

[south-sea]

☆-happy headcanon ☮️-friendship headcanon ♦️-quirks/hobbies headcanon

for your Metal and Shadow AU!

WOO! feelin' good!

☆ - happy headcanon

i like to think of shadow as the type of person who finds joy in the little things. he could be out and about doing objectively fun activities, and it's still going to be the quiet moments after the excitement's died down where he's just watching the sunset with someone that really completes the day. it's wearing an apron and making home recipes until the whole house is filled with the scent of savory sweets, it's taking a second to just walk down a forest path or lying in a field of flowers and feeling the breeze in his fur, it's sitting shoulder to shoulder or in a pile on the couch while watching a movie, it's getting his achy hands massaged after a long day.

for metal it's the same but different. sure he gets a certain sort of joy out of making a ruckus, roughhousing, or generally just causing destruction, but the things that actually make him happy, the things that make his eyes switch from red to blue for how overwhelmed with fondness he is, are the quieter, more mutual moments with shadow. the moments where he gets to see his efforts have been worth it-- that his cherished person is safe and in good spirits. metal does not need, want, or ask for much, but so long as his self-chosen purpose is fulfilled, he's content. in particular, he's especially fond when shadow takes the time to buff out any scratches or scuffs in his paint, and generally any attention paid to his appearance despite the fact metal himself cares very little about it otherwise.

☮ - friendship headcanon

i'll answer this one from the angle of "how easy it is for them to make friends" since it's not something i've had the chance to talk about before--

metal is exceptionally difficult to actually "befriend". he very literally categorizes people, and those categories aren't exactly a spectrum. either you're shadow, someone who benefits him/shadow, or you're Just Some Guy. maybe if you're lucky he'll classify you as "durable enough to roughhouse with", which from an outside perspective might look friendly. after all, metal's idea of "playing" is throwing people halfway across a field or suplexing them if they've even slightly inconvenienced him, so one might assume him finding people he doesn't have to worry about accidentally hurting would mean he likes them, right? ... nope. it just means he likes having a loophole where he can get away with it without being scolded.

metal doesn't have "friends". he has people he's protective of (rare), the equivalent of business associates, and people who mean nothing to him beyond the fact he can just hulk them over his shoulder without someone else scolding him for it.

shadow isn't nearly as cold about it, but he does have a tendency to subconsciously hold people at arm's length. from an outside perspective, he could be as kind and helpful as can be to a person to the point one would assume he thinks very highly of them, but from his perspective, they're not any more special than the last random person he interacted with. he encounters a lot of people, some of which he tends to habitually help given he sees himself as somewhat of a nurse, but there's a certain magic in letting single meetings be just that.

you could argue it's just really rare for him to bridge the gap from "acquaintance" to "friend", or you could think of it as "he's really bad at realizing when someone actually qualifies as a friend". sometimes it's both. usually it's just the latter if he's met the person several times. typically though, he really is just perfectly neutral. he gets along with certain types of people better than others, sure, but he's not really the one to go out of his way to interact with them unless they really click. (hell, even metal was a matter of "this guy just lives here now, i guess", so they were in more regular contact than average, and it wasn't intentional on shadow's part.)

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

shadow has so many hobbies and they are all over the board. he's generally the type to go through phases of interest where he just focuses on/picks up something at random, and if it sticks, it sticks. this was especially common in the earlier days when he was trying to figure out what it was he wanted to do for himself, so there's even completely mundane things like cloud watching. whether or not he still considers it an active hobby or not, he can semi-reliably identify cloud formations. clouds and earth-like weather was one hell of a novelty for a while, considering space was all he knew prior.

photography was his first and continues to be the main one, though: at this point he's got a whole portfolio and takes up commissions whenever the mood strikes. branching off from photography is scrapbooking; he even has a separate (polaroid) camera specifically for it. he's kept up with it regularly since shortly after his revival. it goes without saying that a lot of this also involves just generally wandering around/exploring. he'll snap pics of whatever strikes his fancy or seems novel. one of his favorite subjects is finding out-of-place things in the middle of nowhere, like a particularly unique tree compared to the rest around it, a single flower, long-abandoned campsites, completely overgrown ruins, etc.

apart from that, he dabbles a little in cooking (only when he finds something he really likes, otherwise he prefers to think of this particular hobby as "exploring food/new places to eat"), gardening, creating secret bases, or taking on missions of varying levels of danger. given these missions/explorations tend to take up so much of his time these days, he doesn't have as much motivation to just try out random things anymore, but i could absolutely see him learning bass/electric guitar if there was ever a reason or motivator to.

metal has exactly one hobby that doesn't involve being a destructive little thing: collecting data. he keeps profiles on just about every person he meets, every place he visits, and records even seemingly irrelevant information. i liken him to a walking library, and he takes his role as a "librarian" very seriously.

the information isn't for anyone or to serve any purpose but his own satisfaction/entertainment (unless it is medically relevant/a safety precaution). very rarely will he take commissions to scour a world for information on xyz thing, simply because he prefers to just hoard the knowledge to himself. he's not interested in being helpful to literally anyone but his people/himself, and has no real need for money after a certain copper-stripping stunt he pulled early on.

[redbone135]

Today's goal : Work on having arms.

"See? Having arms isn't so bad," my partner coos to our new son as she let's him grab onto her fingers and wiggle around. I chuckle to myself, mentally adding 'having arms' to the growing list of things Baby seems to hate, that myself and most other humans have come to accept as generally pretty great. Eating. Sleep. Having arms…

See, my partner and I have reached our first parenting disagreement and decided on a compromise, that in the spirit of any true compromise means everyone is being inconvenienced. Except Baby. He's definitely getting the best end of the deal. 

See, our son hates having his arms free. From the second he came into the world, arguably before if our lack of sonogram pictures without hands covering his face serve as evidence, he has cried himself hoarse until someone swaddled him, or held him tight, or even just put a couple strong fingers on his shoulders to prevent that startle reflex from kicking in. This is a problem as we return from the hospital where he is being professionally swaddled and constantly monitored, to the care of our own amateur hands and a pile of newborn swaddles that are all too big for his very early self. I do not want him swaddled while sleeping, because once broken, a swaddle is just a blanket, and we all know safe sleep practices about blankets in cribs. My partner doesn't want him crying himself hoarse, which it is clear he plans to do if left unsupervised with his own arms - not only does it upset her to hear, but we are already a little concerned about his vocal cords for other reasons. So the compromise? Obviously we will sleep in shifts to make sure someone is always watching him sleep with a swaddle. We both get our way, but lose our sleep. 

Is it a permanent and sustainable solution? No. Is it full of New Parent Paranoia? Absolutely! Has everyone and their mothers offered us their well-meaning advice and solutions? You can bet the farm on it. But being aware of all this doesn't change the fact that he is so small and so fragile and so important to both of us.

So don't get this post wrong: it isn't me looking for answers, or complaining, or searching for validation.

It's me, and Baby, and it's 4 am. And I've got hours to pass while he and his mama sleep. So I'm doing what I do best in times like these. I'm taking the quiet to reflect on a hectic week. I'm processing where I was and where I'm at. And I'm putting it to prose for the hell of it. 

So as I punctuate the sentence with one hand, and look down at my satisfied,  -swaddled-, sleeping son, I smile and whisper, "Okay little guy, today's goal: we're gonna work on having arms." It sounds ridiculous. It's half a joke. I'm not upset to be awake and I know he is happy to be held. How does one even plan for such a goal? Step one: have arms? Step two: be okay with it?

I know the real answers. The steps my partner and I have already discussed taking today to start the process. The extra research we have both set aside to do in safe sleep practices and products for exceptionally small babies. 

But as I look at my son, jokingly promising him we're going to work on overcoming a very basic and ingrained infant instinct of his, I know the truth of it.

Right now, goals don't matter. Schedules don't matter. Inconveniences don't matter. If it wasn't his vast hatred of his own limbs giving me an excuse to hold him, it would be something else. 

Any reason to hold him close while he is still small enough to fit easily in the crook of one arm. 

So, today's goal: love my son to the best of my abilities. 

And work on having arms.

[yukine-sakamoto]

The Subtle Knife Review

Okay finally, finally finished The Subtle Knife. Barnes & Nobel, disappointingly, lost my shipment and took months to fix it. Then, once it was in my hands and I was half way through, life got in my way, and I had to take a couple month break to fight with my insurance company. Such a big to-do for a relatively short novel.

Overall I enjoyed it, but I have to say not as much as the first. I liked Will (and feel an incredible depth of sadness for him), and I think he was a good foil for Lyra. It was interesting to see her start to grow up a bit too, see how they approach things differently, see how they learn from each other. I liked learning more about the world and how things work. We’re starting to get much closer to Lyra’s original question about dust, and we get to know more about the witches as well. I was worried about the whole multiple worlds thing getting messy. There’s so many convoluted multiverses in vogue right now. It’s exhausting. But I think it was handled well, and really I should’ve been more prepared. I mean, the different worlds are explained on the very first page of the first book before we even meet Lyra. Overall, we got some answers and plenty more questions. I still feel like things aren’t, let’s say, coming together. Pacing is always an issue with these kinds of big fantasy mystery things where the author has to dole out parts of the answer that are simultaneously foundational parts of the world building. I say this because I’ve been burned before by other series that didn’t quite pull it together in the end, but It’s really too early tell here. Mainly, I think it suffered a bit from classic second-book-in-a-trilogy syndrome, in which the symptomatic novel serves more to connect books one and three rather than stand on its own. In the end, I’m looking forward to the next book, and in many ways that’s what counts.

Okay I’m trying to be more positive upfront with my reviews, but I also feel like there’s more meat in critiquing specifics. So here we go with that.

I’m still disappointed in how un-magical the witches feel. As much as I was happy to learn more about witch society, how they operate, how they view the world, they still barely did any actual magic. They read, to me, more like druidic espionage agents. They live in the woods, use daggers and bows, their society is more or less tribal, they live off the land. All very fitting with classic witch nature connection, but distinctly mundane. To my count we’ve seen three types of magic. First, they can turn invisible. That’s neat except it only sort of works, and it’s functionally the same as being regular stealthy. Second, they can fly. This would otherwise be really cool, but in a world with flying daemons, zeppelins, and where hot air balloons are apparently critical, flight just doesn’t seem that special. This is series that has been about journeys. Most of the characters we follow and struggles they meet are specifically about traveling somewhere, and they seem to get on just fine with walking. Or rather, we haven’t seen that flying really makes things exceptionally easier. In fact, the witches most seem to follow around other people who are walking. Idk doesn’t feel pivotal to me. Third, they tried to use some very dramatic healing magic on Will, and I thought, “finally, they’re casting a spell; real magic.” Except, it didn’t work so…bit underwhelming. The witches’ claim to fame mainly seems to be that they know things other people don’t. However, they are hesitant to reveal this to others, or the reader, and we don’t know how they get this information, so again, a bit lackluster.

I’m always amused, as I am recovering from a christian upbringing, when a story takes christian mythology as its back drop. The classic what if Lucifer wasn’t that bad, free will, rebellious spirit, the good guys aren’t that good, authoritarianism, all that sort of thing. In this case, it seems to be a very literal take on the whole thing. The angels are re-characterized as some kind of cosmic beings (?) that work for a very real and very involved god figure, whom I wonder if we’ll get to meet. It’s always difficult writing a god, especially a supposedly omnipotent/omniscient one, because the more they and their agents are given character, the more they seem human, rather than godly, and then the whole thing is moot really, isn’t it? But maybe that’s the point. I do find it interesting to note how the rebels behave compared to the church officials. They seem perfectly willing to use humans as means to an end, and manipulate/coerce them into to doing so. Not very free will if you ask me. Lyra was said to be destined to end destiny or something like that, so I suppose you could have an ends justify means argument if you wanted to but I really don’t.

Actually, this is quite important because I’m guessing (or maybe hoping) that Lyra and Will are going to have a choice to make, in the end. They’ll be told they have to pick a side. In a certain sense this happened to Will right at end. And I think they don’t really have a good option. Ruta Skadi made a big point about all the atrocities the church has committed throughout history, especially to children (a lot of which is true in the real world, by the way), and it’s completely ignored that Asriel straight up murdered and innocent boy in cold blood, to further his own ambition, and just left the body there in a snow drift. No seriously, no one has talked about what happened with Roger. His body is still there. No one other than Asriel, Lyra, and Mrs. Coulter know what happened to him. No one bothered to tell his family. The other kids come back with the gyptians, and his family is probably losing their minds because Roger’s not with them and no one knows anything for certain. It’s tragic. Not to mention he was working with Bolvengar for a while. He invented the metal that they use for intercision. He seems to be championed as this force of goodness and rightness in his rebellion, but I’m not on board.

To side note back to the witches, I think it’s incredibly strange how they seem to view and talk of love. They seem to think of themselves as above or separate from the humans, but so far they seem to be pretty basic to me. Ruta Skadi is clearly biased by her infatuation with Asriel. I found it hilarious that it was essential we know she went and fucked Asriel, but also essential that we know she didn’t say she did that but that everyone knew anyway, because obviously you would but as obvious as it is it still can’t be said apparently. Very churchy, to be honest. Anyway, not surprising in the least that she’s thrown herself, and the other witches more or less, at Asriel’s feet. Then there’s Juta Kamainen. I wasn’t sure where that was going when it was so specifically brought up early on, but I didn’t expect it at all to go where it did. I mean she basically threw a temper tantrum over a crush like a child, and let it get so bad she murdered someone. Apparently 100 years is not very old at all for witches. She never should’ve been allowed to carry a weapon if she can’t control herself. It was genuinely difficult for me to finish the last couple of chapters because of all the unnecessary death. Tragic.

I actually had a hard time with a lot of Will’s story. He’s had to content with so much for so long and from such a young age. It’s not right for such a young kid. I mean twelve really isn’t that old. They’ve made such a point of this distinction between adults and children, it can’t really be argued he old enough. I think with a lot of YA protagonists, it’s easy to suspend your disbelief at what they deal with because it part of the fantasy world. But not being taken care of, missing your parents, missing home, being lonely…these are all too real, and they hit a little close to home for me. I’ve been on my own mental health journey the past several months and have come more into touch with a part of myself that feels those sadnesses quite powerfully. Anyway, it’s also interesting to compare Lyra’s and Will’s upbringings. They both had unique situations with their parents, but Lyra had other people around to support her even if they didn’t always keep track of her properly. Lyra grew up with too little responsibility, and Will with too much. They’re both very confident and independent, but in very different ways for very different reasons.

When Asriel pulled Grumman’s head out of a vacuum chamber in the very first chapter, I did not in any way expect him to become a major part of the plot. In hindsight, I should have put it together in my head the first time someone mentioned “Jopari,” but I’m bad with names. I’m in love with how every person had a different backstory for him and was also fully convinced he was dead. I aspire to that level of unknowable mystique. Also, how did he end up with a daemon since he came from another world? He seems to actually have some real magic, but it’s very strange to me. I suppose it’s my general distaste for overly soft magic systems. When the village chief said there was a problem with his heart I thought it would be something mystical or at least emotional. Like he sacrificed some of his life force for an important ritual or maybe he’s depressed because he misses his wife and kid. But, no, it seems like he had a literal heart condition. Really sad and serious, but a little bit out of place in magic land. It didn’t really seem to affect him that much either. I mean he took down three zeppelins. Allegedly. Maybe that was dream? He was like a flaming skeleton for some reason briefly and that’s never really connected to anything. He recovered though. Oddly funny that he went on this huge journey, this epic quest, that taxed him physically, mentally, and spiritually, and the result of all that was just: “you have to kill god” *dies* Anyway, I think the main arc of this book, aside from progressing the narrative of the overall series, was Will’s search for his Dad, so it was not only tragic but also underwhelming that they never really got a moment together. Tough way to end the book.

Lee Scorsby continues to exist exclusively to ferry people around and be a conduit for exposition. We could have dug more into the ring he got from his mother, his relationship (or lack thereof) with Lyra, how he ended up as a balloon jockey, sort of anything really about his motives and values. But then he died in a crack in the earth. The thing is I actually liked Lee. I really wanted to know more. He seemed like a regular guy just trying to get through the day that got caught up in something way too big. One of the more relatable characters. I’m deeply offended that Grumman broke his promise, though I don’t really understand what he did (yet).

Something I found very interesting was the similarity between the mental state required for the Compass and for the Knife. There’s actually kind of a big emphasis on this in a lot of little places. It’s the same with the dark matter computer. There’s also many descriptions of how the witches listen to their senses and live in their nerves. Some of it reminded me quite a lot of the things I learn about in ACT. It’s a very roundabout, fantasy way to talk about mindfulness and meditation. I’m very curious where we’re going with that because of my own journey and because it contrasts somewhat with the western and christian backdrop.

The Compass seems to have developed a bit more of a personality this time. I don’t remember that at all from the first book. It seems to offer Lyra things without her asking, and she is newly hesitant to ask certain things because, this felt odd to me, it doesn’t want her to or something. I didn’t realize in the first book, possibly because Lyra was still learning how to use it for most of the time, but the compass is incredibly overpowered. As in, it could ruins the plot of the series completely type overpowered. You could theoretically just ask it what to do to get whatever you want, and it would have to give you a true and accurate answer. Did Lyra ever ask it directly “what is dust?” or “is it good or bad?” or “what the heck is going on around here, generally?” I feel like it had to be awkwardly nerfed by having a personality and by Lyra’s guilt towards Will so that the story could go on.

That being said I feel the opposite was true in certain scenes. The compass providing pivotal information apropos of nothing. Kind of starts to feel cheap. A bit deus ex machina. Oh by the way that skull has more dust. Oh by the way you need to go here and do this. Idk. I was also particularly irked by the scene where the witches rescue Will and Lyra from the citagazze children. It had been established that the witches were searching for Lyra and had decided to help her (although I don’t recall exactly where and how they had decided Lyra was the it girl, the council didn���t quite reach that conclusion), but it still felt convenient that they showed up right then and there. Sort of, we’re done with this part, now we’re going to walk a lot. Idk more of a feeling than anything.

I did like Dr. Maloney. As someone in a STEM field, I feel that the vibe was captured incredibly well. Tired, confused, out of money, unable to avoid military involvement. A lot of fictional scientists are very generic, or mad, so it was nice to have a more relatable portrayal. It is a pet peeve of mine when mystical properties are ascribed to dark matter. I don’t know why people do this. Dark matter is just a name for gravity that we don’t have an explanation for. You can’t find dark matter particles with an EM field. Finding this stuff, if it is even a particle, is actually a big area of research, as I understand it. It makes me laugh thinking of the photos of dust from the first book. As if it would be that easy. And there’s no reason it should be conscious either. All I’m saying is they made an angel detector and nothing else. Dark matter has nothing to do with it. I did note that the way Dr. Maloney was spoken to by the shadows and by Latrom felt very similar to me. Lots of world ending urgency, no other options. Classic manipulation technique. Goes back to what I said earlier about the rebel side feeling off. I’m looking forward to seeing where she ends up in citagazze and what her role will be in all this.

I feel something that hasn’t been addressed is Asriel and Coulters unique abilities. Lord Asriel’s ability to summon things was mentioned directly but never elaborated on. Coulter can apparently see through invisibility. They also both seem to have a supernatural ability to command. Like I’m not giving them credit for just being very willful, determined people. I think there’s more to it. There’s not really a good reason, in my mind, that the specters should listen to Coulter or the Angels should listen to Asriel. Shouldn’t even give them the time of day. I don’t know if anyone had ever talked successfully to either group before them. Still want to know more.

The specters are very interesting actually. Grumman said they feed on attention, and this is something that kids don’t have but adults do. That doesn’t really feel like a full answer to me. And it doesn’t completely connect to daemons and dust either. And where did they come from anyway. They just keep saying the philosophers did it because the knife can cut anything. I really thought this was going to go nuclear for a bit with all the talk of cutting particles.

The portals seem very strange as well. I would have expected that if you leave one dimension from a certain point on the globe, you would appear in the new dimension at the same point. But seems that the window in Oxford and the tear in the North Pole both go to citagazze. It’s unclear to me if citagazze is the name of the world or just that town, but we’ve not really been shown anywhere else. Asriel’s not even in citagazze’s dimension. It’s definitely a special place. The travelers said that angels would cross through even before this catastrophe. Whether that’s because this happens to be the dimension with the knife or if the knife is here because this dimension is a crossroads, it’s hard to say.

We learned Lyra’s prophecy name at the very end, Eve. Not sure where that comes from or why the witches have drawn the conclusions that they have, but I’m very put off. The thing about the fall and original sin, which they talked about in the first book, is that we all supposedly inherited it because we’re all descended from Adam and Eve. That doesn’t really work once humans are already going. It’s just one person falling. Happens all the time. Also weird that this world seems to acknowledge evolution, Dr. Maloney talked about the emergence of consciousness in early humans 30,000 years ago, but also must somehow reconcile that with the genesis stories because they talk of the fall and Lucifer’s rebellion as real events. Anyway, if Lyra’s Eve, I’m guessing Will is Adam. They’re both way too young for that, so that’s weird. I’m normally into romantic side plots, but again, they’re pre-pubescent. Not sure where we’re going here. I found it odd, actually, how they stuck together in the first half of the book. I don’t think it necessarily benefited either one after the got to Oxford. I suppose both of them just needed a friend, but they a lot of time arguing and justifying having to work together without a real satisfying answer. I suppose they’re in it now though.

As I write this, I realize a lot of the characters embody this idea of selfish ambition. Both Asriel and Coulter are very my way or the highway types. And both the rebels and the other angels seem the same way. Ruta and Juta both did a bit of this. Even Grumman pressed his own son into service of his own world view, although I think he thought he was doing what was right. I think Lee is the only one who didn’t have grand ambitions. Perhaps my English education didn’t fail me, and (god forbid) I’m discovering a theme. As I said above, I think Will and Lyra will eventually be expected to pick sides, and I think they will find both sides to have aspects of this selfish ambition, justified in different ways. And I hope that they see neither one is right, and can make the choice that truly sets people free to determine their own way.

Anyway, this a bit long. If you’ve read this far, wow, and also thanks. I’d love to chat if you’re up for it.

[fordphilipsfictionlibrary]

Carry On (Part 01)

Sara was not thrilled.

It was bad enough that she had to take a Greyhound from Austin to Los Angeles, but she had just discovered something that made the prospect exponentially more daunting. She had boarded the bus early, hoping this would get her the best possible seat, and knowing that she could kill time on her phone or tablet while she waited for the trip to get underway. However, once she had picked out a seat and started to settle in, she had pulled her devices out of her bag only to discover that they were not charged. Both her phone and tablet were totally dead. Worse still, she had meant to throw a book or two, maybe even a sudoku puzzle, into her bag for just this situation, but had forgotten in the usual morning chaos. 

So here she sat, facing close to a full day on a long distance bus with nothing to distract her.

Realizing she still had almost half an hour before the bus even got moving, she decided to grab a few magazines at the terminal store (no sudoku at all) and then people-watch while her fellow passengers filed in. Her first companions were a foursome of old ladies, none of them looking happy, all of them pushing seventy at the least. They did not spare her a glance as they took the seats closest to the driver’s bay and began whispering amongst themselves. Sara had no way of knowing, but she assumed based on the tone of their entrance that the conversation was mean spirited.

Next came a younger couple, maybe three years younger than her (Sara was twenty eight), and their infant. Sara felt herself tense up at the sight of the bald little noise machine. She planned to happily go through life without ever producing one of these pink balls of endless trouble, but being around them always seemed to threaten her with the possibility that her plans would be foiled. Not to mention the odds of that tiny little human keeping quiet on an hours long bus ride were slim to none. She supposed she could just shove her headphones in her ears if it got too bad, even if there was no music to send into them, but the prospect was unappealing. She’d heard that could give you ear infections, which was not what she needed.

There was a bit of a gap between these two groups of early birds, but about fifteen minutes before they were set to leave, people began streaming in. The vast majority were older, looked tired and carried very little. The rest were either young adults traveling in small groups, or lone college-aged kids heading who knew where for who knows what. None were especially interesting and as the bus began to fill, her dread for the coming hours of monotony was renewed. Luckily the seat next to her remained empty and seemed likely to stay that way. Better to have no company than someone annoying running their mouth for hours on end. She’d been trapped next to a guy like that on a flight to Chicago once and thought she might just scrap the whole trip if it happened again. She’d just disembark in west Texas somewhere and get a friend to pick her up.

The stream of people died off with about five minutes to go and Sara tried to decide whether to just burn through the magazines now or save them for when her boredom climaxed. Her decision was put on hold just as she went for the Time Magazine on the top of her pile. While the driver was settling into his large seat and starting up the engine, a man rushed on, out of breath and looking...odd. Glancing around to see if her fellow passengers had noticed him, she found that all of them were either chatting with someone or nose deep in their phones. Letting her eyes go back to the newcomer, she tried to identify what was so strange about him. 

He was unkempt, which was definitely part of it. His white button down was criss-crossed with wrinkles and only half tucked into his dark brown khakis, which themselves were covered in dark stains. His shoes were dirty, but not exceptionally so and his black hair stuck out at odd angles as if he ran his hands through it constantly (it was all very Azkaban), yet none of this explained why he had held her attention like he had. She watched as he hefted his lumpy canvas bag into the carry-on bin above his seat. While he did this, it hit her. Even as he looked up at the storage bins, with no one around and nothing up there to look at but luggage, he was smiling a large, toothy smile. As he took a seat, she realized she had been staring and quickly grabbed her magazine and stuffed her face into it.

She felt the bus pulling out of the station and did her best to focus on an article about the poor state of the United States levee system. Yet as she read about the imminent danger that farmers in the flood zones faced, her mind kept straying back to the crazed looking man seated a few rows in front of her and across the aisle. If she looked up from her magazine a little, the back of his head was plainly visible. Luckily he had two seats to himself as well. She wouldn’t have envied the person he’d chosen to sit by. She couldn’t smell him from here, obviously, but she knew it was bad. No question. 

Skipping an article about the Cleveland Browns, she found herself again drawn to the man seated in front of her. It was not a positive attraction. She was kind of a psychology buff despite being an anthropology major (don’t even start), and she was becoming certain that this man was setting off her primal, fight-or-flight defense mechanism. Everyone has one and it frustrated her to no end that her fellow occupants were so involved with the intangible internet, that they weren’t even giving their bodies the chance to assess a potential physical threat sitting feet away from them.

Trying to push her mind into less dire territory, she forced herself to restart the Time she had only been perusing, planning to read each and every article regardless of subject matter. This was about killing time, not amusement. She knocked the Time out a little faster than she thought she would and moved on to Forbes. She had considered getting a People, but couldn’t bear being seen reading that trash, so she’d grabbed a Popular Science and Rolling Stone instead. For a handful of magazines she had picked up out of desperation, it hadn’t been a bad haul, but it had only gotten her two hours into her trip. There were a few articles she wouldn’t mind pouring over again, but all in all she had merely put off her inevitable fate.

(Part 02)

[gallusrostromegalus]

Daytime Reblog with more Franklin and Louie Fun Facts and information about Bankai Blood Brawls under the cut:

They are some of the oldest characters in the series- they came into existence before writing was invented, and Nobody/Soul King didn't know about people until well after the invention of writing, so it's entirely possible that Franklin and Louie existed BEFORE the current Life Machine was born, making them Actually Older Than God.

They pick out new names, genders and origin stories at least once a century.

Nobody knows if they were once human or just appeared as Giant Magical Skeletons, and they refuse to tell.

One thing they do tell and that nobody disputes is that Franklin and Louie were the first souls to CHOOSE to go to Hell and help others re-balance their Karma.

Franklin and Louie occupy a fairly important position in the Administration Of Hell, and can effectively be in multiple places at once- it does not take their full concentration to monitor the Gates Of Hell so they are free to have conversations and do other stuff.

Like annoy people.

Franklin and Louie's canon height is "Exactly Tall Enough That Whoever They Are Having A Conversation With Has To Look Up At A Slightly Uncomfortable Angle", because this amuses them.

Franklin's favorite food is "A Full Breakfast" which is the "Full Breakfast" of as many cultures as possible, so it's really more like a World Breakfast Buffet, but as a single meal.

Louie's favorite food is Black Coffee, because of it's Comedic Applicability.

---

Bankai Blood Brawls or B3 tournaments:

One of Franklin and Louie's responsibilities as Administrators Of Hell is to organize and run the Bankai Blood Brawls, which happen whenever a soul in the living or spirit world passes the power threshold that means they will HAVE to go to Hell to burn some of that off (typically about when that soul manages to achieve Bankai). The Brawls are essentially complex tournaments open to every Demon in Hell to determine who will get to personally manage this new powerhouse when they inevitably die and end up in Hell.

B3 events vary wildly in terms of standards, degree of participation and sheer bloodiness- Managing A Captain-Class soul is often an *extremely* desirable job- many of the captains have good-to-neutral Karma so the entire job is just following a Fun Little Guy around and inventing things to keep him out of trouble all while enjoying an unlimited expense account and that sweet, sweet Soul Energy.

Captain-class souls that have really bad karma or are so strong they're going to take FOREVER to get under the power threshold again? Not desirable at all- A Demon who wins a B3 tournament and assumes responsibility for a Captain-class soul cannot leave Hell until the captain-class soul in their care has managed to get to the appropriate Power and Karma thresholds.

More than once, Louie and Franklin have had to ASSIGN some unfortunate bastard to look after a particularly Rancid Soul.

Ukitake's B3 event was WILD and got really nasty in a few places- looking after the good-natured lil' guy was a HIGHLY desirable position and the competition was FIERCE! In the end, the winning candidate was widely regarded as The Right Choice, and is looking forward to Spoiling Jushiro rotten.

By Contrast, Aizen's was exceptionally peaceful as One Specific Candidate was agreed to be the correct choice to manage him by all the other participants, who bowed out in an act of profound respect. Aizen's Manager is rather grim about the prospect of being reunited with him, but still considers the job a privilege- rehabbing Sosuke Aizen is a job that only he should do.

Yamamoto has actually had THREE candidates for his manager, but the old bastard has lived so goddamn long the previous two lost their demonic powers and reincarnated from Old Age. His current Management Candidate was selected at least in part because of their relative youth.

B3 tournaments are designed to select an Appropriate Manager over one who is just strong or particularly good at fighting, but given the nature of most captain-class souls as, well. captains, there is always at least some combat element to the tournaments

The Gambling rackets on B3 tournaments are INSANE, and HEAVILY encouraged by the Skelebros.

Got any more ocs that are tied to cool concepts? 😍

Remember the two Skele-Bros from the Gates of Hell in that one plot point kubo dropped and only started to expand on recently?

These lads.

In AEIWAM, they both have extensive, badass and HEAVILY guarded True Names but in daily conversation the one on the left goes by Franklin (Not Frankie) and the one on the right goes by Louie (Not Lewis) and they are jolly fellows who constantly tell terrible bone/skeleton/death/hell puns. It's like having this guy but ridiculously tall and in stereo:

They get to meet and ADORE Ukitake, promising to "fix you up with a good supervising officer for whenever you get here"

[aashi9953]

Top 10 Places to Explore in Bali

Top 10 Places to Explore in Bali

Stand still as we unveil the top 10 places to explore in Bali. Check out this list and witness Elysium by exploring the best Bali tour packages.

Embark on an exhilarating journey and uncover the breathtaking beauty of Bali. Sink your toes into pristine beaches, where turquoise waters beckon for a refreshing dip. Dive into vibrant coral reefs, encountering a kaleidoscope of mesmerizing marine life. Traverse inland to marvel at terraced rice fields cascading down hillsides like emerald staircases. Immerse yourself in Balinese culture, visiting ancient temples perched on rocky outcrops with awe-inspiring views. 

Experience the enchantment of traditional Balinese dance performances, where graceful movements transport you to a world of wonder. Delight your taste buds with tantalizing flavors, savoring sizzling satay and aromatic Nasi Goreng. Embrace the warm hospitality of the Balinese people as you navigate bustling markets and hunt for unique handicrafts.  Recharge your body and soul with a rejuvenating Balinese massage, leaving you invigorated and renewed. Bali is a treasure trove of extraordinary beauty and endless adventures. So, guys, pack your bags because Book My Bharat is here to give you a quick tour of what beauty is!

Mount Batur

Every day, hundreds of visitors begin the trek up the 1,700-meter summit of Mount Batur in Bali’s predawn darkness. This active volcano, located in Kintamani District in Bali’s central highlands, is easily accessible with a one-hour drive from Ubud.

The hike lasts about two to three hours and offers spectacular views of the Batur Caldera and Lake Batur. Sturdy hiking shoes and layered clothing are recommended for cool pre-sunrise temperatures. To enhance the trip, visitors can also explore Pura Ulun Danu Batur, one of Bali’s significant temples. Also, indulge in a therapeutic soak in the hot springs of the picturesque village of Toya Bungkah.

Uluwatu Temple

Uluwatu Temple, holds the distinction of being one of Bali‘s most renowned temples due to its spectacular clifftop location. It dominates the precipitous sea cliffs overlooking one of Bali’s premier surf spots. The temple’s name is derived from the Balinese language, with “Ulu” signifying “tip” or “land’s end,” and “Watu” meaning rock.

Its purpose is to safeguard Bali against malevolent sea spirits, while the forest-dwelling monkeys near the entrance are believed to protect the temple from negative influences. A picturesque pathway winds its way from the entrance to the temple, offering awe-inspiring viewpoints. This is restricted to Hindu worshippers, although the sunset Kecak dance performances held here daily make the visit truly worthwhile.

Tanah Lot Temple

The temple holds fame for its distinctive offshore setting and the captivating backdrops it provides during sunset. It is an ancient Hindu shrine that rests atop a rock formation amidst the relentless crashing waves. Tanah Lot Temple stands as one of the iconic attractions in Bali that visitors must not miss. The onshore area of the Tanah Lot temple complex showcases smaller shrines and various leisure facilities for visitors. These include restaurants, shops, and a cultural park that regularly presents dance performances. The temple is situated in the village of Beraban, within the Tabanan regency, approximately 20km northwest of Kuta.

Campuhan Ridge Walk

People from all over the world love Bali, not just for its killer waves but also for its breathtaking natural attractions. One must-visit destination is the Campuhan Ridge Walk, situated in the bustling and modern Ubud. This scenic mountain valley hiking trail offers a great retreat where you can breathe in fresh air. 

As you embark on the journey, remarkable hillside sceneries and the lush valley of Sungai Wos River will accompany you. If you’re fortunate and the weather is exceptionally clear, you may even catch a glimpse of Mount Agung. It truly is a beautiful Bali experience.

Ubud Monkey Forest

The Monkey Forest, also known as the Sacred Monkey Forest Sanctuary, ranks among the top attractions in Ubud. It offers a must-visit experience for animal lovers and photographers. It’s just a 10-minute walk from Ubud’s town center. The forest captivates visitors with its captivating jungle atmosphere and the presence of playful grey long-tailed macaques.

As you stroll along paved pathways, you’ll be surrounded by dense forests of towering banyan and nutmeg trees. There are also a lot of ancient temples and moss-covered statues that add to the mystical ambiance. This sanctuary actively promotes the harmonious coexistence of humans and animals.

Besakih Temple

The ‘mother temple’ of Bali, Besakih Temple, occupies the southwestern slope of Mount Agung. Besakih Temple, encompassing 18 distinct sanctuaries corresponding to different caste groups, constitutes the largest temple complex in Bali. These sanctuaries encircle a central complex housing three main temples dedicated to the Hindu trinity: Shiva, Brahma, and Vishnu.

In 1995, Besakih Temple received a nomination for World Heritage Site status, but it remains unvested to this day. With approximately 70 ceremonies and religious celebrations held annually, each shrine commemorates its own anniversary. The optimal times for visiting are early mornings and evenings when the temple complex exudes a more serene atmosphere

Lovina

Lovina stands as the largest resort area, acclaimed for its captivating 5-mile beach adorned with black volcanic sand. This alluring destination encompasses a collection of quaint villages and attracts numerous adventurers seeking thrilling snorkeling and scuba diving experiences. The tranquility of the northern waters enhances the area’s appeal for water enthusiasts.

Local skippers operate the traditional outriggers, known as perahu, eagerly awaiting to ferry visitors to the most exquisite diving locations. The serene sea not only offers an ideal environment for swimming but also presents opportunities for delightful dolphin watching. Lovina has emerged as a picture-perfect vacation spot, catering to the desires and enjoyment of families seeking memorable experiences.

Kintamani

Kintamani, a mountain village in central Bali, houses Mount Batur, Bali’s second-tallest peak, and the Batur Caldera Lake. The Karangasem regency accommodates this village, which serves as a favored sightseeing destination, Penelokan. It 1offers the finest panoramic views, showcasing Batur’s rugged characteristics of dark lava slopes and black molten rocks.

Since 1800, the still-active Mount Batur volcano has erupted approximately 24 times, continually reshaping the surrounding landscape. This volcano entices mountain hikers, with its highlight being the early sunrises witnessed from the ridges.

Gunung Kawi Temple

Gunung Kawi Temple houses a collection of ancient shrine reliefs intricately carved into the face of a rock cliff. When you visit the main site, you will be treated to a stunning view of the Pakerisan River and a temple courtyard that showcases a unique blend of old Hindu shrines infused with modern elements. 

This temple is conveniently located and serves as an excellent addition to your Bali itinerary. As you approach the site, you will ascend a flight of stairs and be presented with an earthen vase filled with holy water. Use it to sprinkle yourself before entering, adding a sacred touch to your experience.

Kuta Beach

In the 1970s, Kuta emerged as a surfing haven, securing its status as Bali’s top destination and maintaining its reputation. The sandy expanse of Kuta’s Beach is both expansive and picturesque, considered one of the most breathtaking and well-preserved beaches on the island.

The southern part of the beach, famous for its vibrant nightlife, remains bustling with activity throughout the day and night. However, if visitors take a short stroll to the beach’s northern edge, they are greeted with a serene and secluded ambiance, creating a tranquil and solitary experience.

Top 10 Places to Explore in Bali