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https://archiveofourown.org/works/42752982

The one where Hoseok is a vampire and uses it to his advantage every Halloween. Except this year, he's changing it up. Unfortunately, his less-than-good demon costume can't hide the fact that he's helplessly drawn to his close friend, Yoongi. Will Hoseok make it through the night, or will his blood-thirsty nature get the better of him?

~

[edit May 2025: restricted to the archive to protect against AI bots and crawlers]

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“Need a light, babe?” Jisung procured a lighter from his pants pocket.

The stranger chuffed. “That’s the oldest trick in the book,” he said around his unlit cigarette.

Ignoring the remark, Jisung flicked his thumb, and the stranger stepped forward. He cupped his hands around the small flame and seemed to suck it up. With the end finally lit, the man exhaled a cloud of smoke. He looked Jisung up and down several times before offering his carton of cigarettes.

“Not my thing.”

The man let out an amused breath, and a cloud came with it. “What, you just carry around a lighter and lurk around bars hoping to shoot your shot?”

“I never said I don’t smoke. Just not cigarettes.”

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Not only does Minho have to solve the mystery of who's sleeping in his bed, but he also has to work out whether or not they already had sex. There's only one way to figure it out. 

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The high school AU that isn’t really a high school AU. The tutor AU that isn’t really a tutor AU. The annoyances-to-lovers fic that isn’t really that kind of romance. Jung Wooyoung has to graduate high school, but his single failing grade could prevent this from happening. All he has to do is pass English, but he needs help. The uptight tutor that he hires might just be it. Choi San is the perfect student, but as his final year of high school is coming to a close, he realizes he is terribly bored and losing interest in academia very quickly. He doesn’t know exactly what he needs to help him get by, but his new tutee—a notoriously bad student named Jung Wooyoung—might just be it. ※UPDATES EVERY FEW WEEKS※ (a/n: someone on twitter ( @atcczs ) said “diploma vs county jail” so here it is)

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A Monster’s POV

I’m only doing this because Cain said I couldn’t. In reality, Cain did not specifically say that I couldn’t slaughter the Danes at Heorot, but he did not believe I had the power to do so. I told Cain, “Watch this,” and set out from my home in the fens. And so began my nightly killing spree, which has seen success for twelve years. My first raid began with thirty men. I snatched them all while they slept, most likely sedated by their mead (and ego). I returned to my marshes without an obstacle, and had my wicked way with my prizes. Some became my sustenance, some became my sport. I have made it my goal to terminate these Danes. No man can stop me; none have tried. They are quickly losing hope.

It is the twelfth year of my reign over the helpless Danes at Heorot. An eerie feeling sits upon my breast, but as the Sun creeps closer to the horizon, I prepare for another raid of the woeful humans. I approach Heorot and find the great hall doors are closed. This infuriates me! These foolish humans do not understand that I cannot be stopped! They never learn… 

I rip the iron-braced door from its hinges. I am out for blood. I see my first target and do not give him a moment to process his own demise. Blood stains the ground once more. I move on to my next victim. I raise my arm high, my talons itching for the satisfying tear of human flesh. But what’s this! The man is awake! He was ready for me! Preventing my fatal attack, the man holds me fast. He is without a weapon, but his obvious strength proves he may not need one. Nevermind, I focus again and wait for the right moment. I need only remove myself from this man’s grip and I will have him… Now!

But wait! This man is no ordinary warrior. He cannot be one of the Danes I so frequently terrorized! In my rage and confusion, the man jumps at me. Just in time, I swipe him from the air and send him flying into a pillar. I wait for him to rise, hoping he doesn’t. He stands. This human just won’t die, huh? In a rage, I launch myself at him. It is a battle of pure strength now. I can feel my power fading. No! This human cannot defeat me! I am clouded by thoughts, therefore distracted. In one swift motion, the man pulls my arm and rips my shoulder from my body. Agony! What feeling is this! For a demon to be overpowered by a human!

I escape with my dwindling life back to the fens. I can feel myself ebbing away. As I lay here dying in the marshes, I call on my mother to avenge me. I cry out for her to kill he who has killed me. He believes himself victorious, but does not know what is yet to come.

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San and Wooyoung had a complicated relationship. Not complicated in a bad way, no. Everything they had was good. Great, even. It was just… complicated. Hard to explain, and hard to understand. Labels didn’t really work for them.

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A Study in Turquoise

Sybill was doing a pretty good job at blending in with the humans. She had set up her apothecary on a quiet street; customers would come and go throughout the day. No one seemed to suspect that a real Witch could be running this shop. Sybill assumed that her customers saw her as a weird and whimsical woman. Nothing more. She would sometimes get customers who seemed more outlandish than she did. This changed when a little blonde boy came into her apothecary one day in the summer. She remembered with a small smile the words he said to her, though she was not smiling when he had first spoken: “Can you make the purple fireworks come out of your hands again?”

What am I gonna do with this kid? Sybill thought to herself. No human could know she was truly a Witch. Her father would be more understanding, but this is something unacceptable for her mother. Sybill’s mother came from a very large and ancient family of practitioners, some Wiccan, some not, but all were Witches. The old Witch had very traditional ideas, but they were based on sound principals. Her most important was that humans can have no knowledge of the witchcraft that coexists with their mundane practices. Witches have to make a living, after all. Sybill was what could be called a “pureblood” in the magical world, but she tried to conceal this as much as possible. Purebloods tend to have a bad rep for their snobbiness and superiority complexes. This was not Sybill. She was a quiet Witch who just wanted to run her apothecary peacefully and eventually make her girlfriend her wife. Then, they could live quietly with Sybill’s familiar, a noisy and opinionated Siamese cat named Kratos.

On the day that the little blonde boy came in, Sybill got the shock of her life. She was very sure that she had only ever cast spells in her back room. She only ever opened her Book of Shadows after closing the shop, and she had definitely set up wards against any malicious beings that would mean to harm her. So who is this kid, and how did he see me casting that endurance spell?

“Well, hello there. What did you just say about the fireworks? We don't have any of those here, just plants and books, little boy. What’s your name?” Sybill squat down to the little boy’s level. He couldn’t be more than five years old. Where are his parents?

“My name’s Felix. I saw you make little purple fireworks. How did you maked that?”

Thinking quickly, Sybill thought quickly of something that would make sense for a human. “Oh, you mean the sparklers? I use them sometimes to entertain my cat. Do you wanna see him?”

At the word “cat”, Felix’s green eyes lit up. “Kitty? Where?” He was very excited now, and seemed to forget about the spell he witnessed. Sybill stood up and held her hand out for Felix. He took it as she walked to the front corner of the main room by the big windows that overlooked the street.

“Kratos! Here, kitty!”

Who you calling kitty? You look like an albino Willow tree today.

Thanks, I try. Just come down here and watch this kid for a little while. I think he may have seen me cast that endurance spell earlier. I need you to distract him while I get a memory wipe potion from the back.

But what if he pulls my tail like the last kid?

This kid is… different. I can’t explain it, so just come down here and see for yourself.

The most important thing about familiars is that they are definitely not your pets. A familiar is a Witch’s companion. The familiar comes to the Witch when they decide they want to, not when the Witch decides. Kratos came to Sybill when she was only 10 years old; they’ve been together for almost 20 years now. A Witch and her familiar can communicate through thought if desired. Sybill usually speaks aloud to Kratos, it helps her focus and adds to her “weird apothecary shopkeeper” aesthetic, but she didn’t want to risk any more magical exposure to this little kid. Kratos hopped down from the hanging potted plant he was sitting in. He got dirt everywhere, as he usually did. He even added to the shop’s collection of dirty-paw-prints-all-over-the-wood-floor.

“Does he like toys?” Felix asked. Sybill had momentarily forgotten about the little blonde boy.

“Good question. Why don’t we ask him? Kratos, do you like to play with kitty toys?” Sybill was totally not making this difficult for Kratos on purpose. She would never.

The cat meows loudly in response, You saw what I did to your fern bush, right? Same thing’s gonna happen to this kid if you leave me alone with him.

“He said yes!” Sybill clapped in a childish way, her many rings and bracelets jingling together.

Felix clapped happily too, “Yay! Kitty likes to play!”

Sybill summoned a few cat toys behind her back and handed them to Felix. “Be gentle with him,” she warned with a pointed index finger. She didn’t know if she was talking to Felix or Kratos.

She quickly moved to the back of the shop, taking a quick look over her shoulder to check on the little boy. Sybill quietly slipped into the back room where her potion supply was. She tied up her unruly mop of blonde curls so that it was out of her face. It was totally a hazard for casting, summoning, and brewing, but Sybill felt proud of her hair. Stark blonde hair was something like a trademark for the Blackwood family. Sybill hadn’t cut her hair in many years, and it reached all the way down her back.

She found the potion bottle she wanted. “Simple memory wipe. Use when needed to wipe a single memory. Dilute potion for children under 13 years of age. Add 3 poppy seeds for humans. Focus intent over a heated cauldron to target undesired memory.” This will do. Now, I probably shouldn’t just make him drink this… I’d have a lot of explaining to do if I got a customer. I can put it in a sweet, like a cookie. That’ll work. Sybill took several strides across the room to one of her many cauldrons, started a fire under a small one, and poured the potion into it. She followed the directions exactly, and finally she had her memory-wipe cookie. I’ll have to add this to my Grimoire.

Sybill finally emerged from the back room to return to Kratos and Felix. She found the little boy sitting on the floor. The Witch got the second biggest shock of her life next. Kratos was curled up in a ball in Felix’s lap, happily purring.

“Well, it looks like you guys became best friends,” Sybill sat on the ground next to Felix and looked down at Kratos.

“Hey Felix, did you come into town with your mommy or daddy? Where are they?”

“Mommy said me and my big brother could go shopping today. Kris is shopping too.”

Sybill was a little frustrated that Felix didn’t answer the question, but she knew how little kids were. “Hey Felix, do you want a cookie? I’ll trade you Kratos for this chocolate chip cookie. It’s his nap time, so I gotta put him back in his bed.”

“A cookie! I want a cookie!” Felix’s eyes lit up again. Sybill started for only a second. The little boy’s eyes seemed to literally light up. It’s probably just the sunlight making them change colour. Sybill handed Felix the memory wipe cookie, and waited for him to finish it. In the meantime, she scooped up Kratos, and stood up to return him to his potted plant. Kratos opened one eye at her and purred. Traitor, she muttered. Sybill brushed the dirt off of her harem pants and got yet another shock.

“Can you make the purple fireworks again?” Felix asked. He looked up at her through his golden hair with anticipation. The potion didn’t work. Great! Fucking great! What am I gonna do now? I have no idea where this kid’s “big brother” is, the potion didn’t work, and I can’t just dump him on the street. I am so not prepared to play babysitter today! What the fuck!

Why are you screaming? Kratos meowed. You woke me up…

Kratos, the potion didn’t work.

Bullshit, you’re the best brewer in the country.

Thanks, that doesn’t help the fact that it didn’t work. What are we gonna do now? I do not want to call Mother. She’ll teleport all the way over here just to hex me in person. And she’ll find out anyway if I tell Father.

Well, you did say this kid was different. You were right, as much as I don’t want to admit it. Maybe he’s not human.

I don’t know… Well anyway, it looks like we’re babysitting today.

You can count me out, it’s my naptime, like you said.

You’ll be in a time-out if you don’t get your fuzzy rump down here right now.

Yes, ma’am.

Don’t call me that, Kratos. We talked about this.

“Okay, Felix, well does your brother Kris know you’re in this store?”

“Yea, he saw me come in.”

“Do you know when Mommy wants you home?”

“No.”

Great. “Okay, well you can hang out here with us until it’s time to go home.”

“Okay.”

Sybill stood there awkwardly with her hands on her hips watching Felix brush around the dirt on the floor.

“Okay, Felix, come on. I’m gonna show you the coolest parts of my store,” Sybill crouched down to pick up the little boy. He was surprisingly light for a toddler. “Felix, how old are you?”

“Five.”

So I was right. She carried him to the check-out desk in the back of the main room, and set him on the desktop. He immediately started swinging his little legs around, and looked around at the stuff on the desk.

“Okay, Felix. We’re gonna learn about plants today. Can you read?” Sybill pulled her hair down and ruffled it.

“Yeah, Daddy taught me how to read. Your hair is pretty. We have the same hair,” he reached out to touch a strand of Sybill’s hair. She noted that he was right. They both had very blonde, curly hair. But they couldn’t be related. Sybill would have instantly known if Felix was a Blackwood. She checked that off the list of “Things That Felix is Not”. She looked into his big green eyes before changing gears. She motioned for Felix to wait there, and he obeyed.

“Kratos, where are my Succulents?”

“Meow,” They’re in the front window, section 4a.

Felix clapped happily, “Kitty meowed!”

Sybill returned to the check-out desk with two, large, potted Succulents. She put one down on the desktop and held up the other one for Felix to see.

“This is a Succulent, Felix. Can you say Succulent?”

“Suckylent”

“Good enough. These little guys are really cool. You see their special leaves? Look, they’re green and pink. They like a lot of sunlight, so I put them in the big windows in the front. They like water, too, but not too much. These guys right here don't have names yet. Do you want to help me name them?”

“Yeah! I want to name them!”

“Great! Do you have an idea?”

“Uhm, I like the name George.”

“George it is then!”

Sybill continued like this for quite a while, telling Felix about many different plants, and their properties. He seemed very intrigued for a five-year-old. She was just about to tell him about her Lamb’s Ear when the entrance door bell rang.

Kratos meowed, Couple of teenage girls. Definitely not Felix’s big bro.

Sybill turned around to greet the girls, holding Felix’s arm to make sure he wouldn’t fall off the counter. “Welcome, ladies, to the Granite Cauldron. Can I help you find anything today?”

One of the girls spoke up, “We’re looking for some small potted plants that will fit on a windowsill? Like, something I can hold in my hand?”

“Ah yes, it seems the Succulents are what you desire. Come, I will show you,” Sybill paused before deciding she should probably bring Felix with her, lest he hurt himself unattended. She placed him on the floor and held his hand as she led the girls to the Succulent section in the front window. She showed the girls the Succulents and provided some care tips. The girls seemed very understanding, which made Sybill happy. After several minutes, the girls were ready to check out. They all headed back to the check-out desk; Sybill let Felix sit on the counter again.

“That one’s name is George,” the little boy said very seriously. “He likes sunlight and not too much water.”

The girl smiled brightly and thanked Felix. “Is it bring your kid to work day? He’s so cute!”

Sybill was about to say no, but then realized just how odd it would be if she admitted that they weren’t actually related. What’s a random kid, who looks just like me, doing in this shop if we aren’t related? “Yes, his name is Felix,” Sybill finally said.

“He’s adorable!” Another girl said. “Thank you so much, have a great day!”

“Blessed be, ladies.”

The door-bell jingled and the girls were gone.

Sybill put her face in her hands and let her blonde curls obscure her vision. Ugh, I have got to get this kid home ASAP.

~

It felt hours since the little blonde boy entered the store, and still no sign of his “big brother Kris”.

Some big brother, alright, Sybill thought.

Do you think he forgot about him? Can we keep him? Kratos leaped from one shelf to another, watching the little boy as well.

Kratos!

What? He’s entertaining…

I can't just keep the kid, how would I explain that to literally everyone I know?

Right, of course, sorry. It was an option.

Sybill had left Felix near the check-out desk, surrounded by books to entertain him. She got the usual amount of customers trickling in, all asking if Felix was her son. She had to say yes to all, which will definitely prove a problem in the future, but Sybill couldn't afford to worry over that now. Every once in awhile, Kratos would leap down from his various perches (more hanging potted plants) and rub up against Felix to get some pets. Felix would sometimes ask Sybill what a word was, or ask her to explain something. He was very smart for a five-year-old. She was thankful to every god and goddess in existence that the little boy was not a nuisance. He just sat there peacefully reading. He didn’t touch anything that he was not supposed to, nor did he pester Sybill with annoying questions, crying, or temper tantrums. He was the most well mannered and patient toddler she had ever encountered. Sybill was curious about something, though. She couldn’t erase the image of Felix’s eyes lighting up. Part of her told her that it was just a trick of the light, but she wasn’t totally convinced. Sybill has had many encounters with creatures that only look human. Maybe Felix was one of their kids. Maybe he is only a half-blood. Like half a feral creature or a nymph, or something. That would explain why he is so smart, and weighs so little for his size. Sybill could only guess, until her answer finally came to her in the form of Kris, Felix’s big brother. Kris really was a big brother.

The entrance door bell jingled, and Sybill waited for Kratos’ meow to let her know who to expect, as she was overlooking a book on the Natural Life of Switzerland. Her familiar was cut off mid-meow, and when Sybill stood up, she saw why. Her next customer was a seven-foot-tall elf, and he did not look very happy. This was nothing new to Sybill. She got a nice mix of humans and magical beings alike. The elves, however, were rare, and always hard to please.

Kratos finally meowed his report, I think this is our guy…

You think? Sybill replied as she picked Felix up off the floor.

The elf, Kris, had the same blonde curls as Felix, and his eyes were also very green. The one difference was that his eyes were glowing. Definitely an elf.

“Felix, what are you doing in here? You were supposed to meet me by the river at exactly 14 minutes past the hour. It is now 20 minutes past the hour. It is past time to go home,” the Elf said in a stern tone. He continued, speaking to Sybill this time, “I apologize, Witch, for this rascal causing distractions from your practice.”

“He- well- he was not a distraction for me. I’m just glad you came back for him. But he didn’t impede on my practices at all, nope. Not a worry here…” Sybill replied awkwardly. She was not the best at conversing with elves. They spoke in a very odd and proper way that made Sybill feel self-conscious of her thick Northerner accent.

“That is pleasing, then. He has much to learn still. As only a half-elf, he is slower at developing the proper memory skills at this age. It’s the human part that dulls his mind a little, you understand. Thank you for watching over my kin. Take this,” Kris handed Sybill a pinecone, “You may use it for one favour of me, should you need me.”

“Thanks,” Sybill accepted the pinecone with a quick glance to Kratos. He only cocked his head to the side and blinked his big blue eyes.

He took Felix into his own arms and stroked the little boy’s hair.

“Bye, Witchy! Bye, kitty!” Felix yelled over his big brother’s shoulder. Sybill waved and Kratos howled, which caused the little boy to squeal and clap happily. His eyes glowed for the third time, and that confirmed it for Sybill.

A half-elf, huh?

You think they call that a Helf? Kratos leapt from a bookshelf to the check-out desk.

Shut up.

You think we’ll ever see the kid again?

“I hope so,” Sybill said aloud, turning the pinecone over in her hands with a small smile.

[authors-dumpster]

Have Faith

The last time I set foot in a church was not by choice, but because my mom wanted the whole family to attend the Mother’s Day mass. It was May of 2017, and it was the last place I wanted to be. I had to sit through the whole service, bored out of my mind, unable to focus on anything the priest was saying. I tried to appear somewhat sharp for my mother’s sake, but to no avail. I can’t remember exactly when I decided to drop my affiliation with Catholicism, but it has been awhile since I had much faith in the Man Upstairs.

I sincerely believe that my loss of faith has something to do with the fact that my elementary and middle school education was in a private, Catholic institution. Maybe it was the teachers, or maybe it was my classmates that spoiled it for me, but upon reaching the eighth grade, I started to question basically everything that I had previously believed in under the Catholic faith. I clearly remember one day in late February of  2014 where I had my own little epiphany about my faith, or rather my lack of it. I was walking home from school. It was a particularly warm day in February- at least, as warm as it can be during late winter in Michigan. The sun was shining brightly, and the rays were bouncing off the dripping snow mounds that bordered the pavement. I was at the age of developing my own opinionated and rebellious thoughts, so naturally I was lost in my own mind as I dragged my snowboots across the icy ground. I began to wonder about a lot of things. What makes the snow so white? How does snow collect in such a way? Why is it that the sun rays don’t melt the snow faster? What is the sun? What’s up with our solar system anyway? All these questions, of course, could be answered easily with “God made it so”, but that was not good enough for me.

When I mentioned my questions to my parents at the dinner table, they gave me the expected answer. “Well, because that’s how God wants it. He wants the snow to look like that, so it just does.” This made me even more confused and frustrated. Obviously it could be explained with science, so why did they insist on this deity instead? I tried not to delve into this too much, and focus on what really mattered: my confirmation ceremony. At least, I thought it mattered. I was wrong about that too, but more about that later.

I remember a time when I thought that dropping your religion was something shocking, even scandalous. When, back in my elementary days, my best friend told me that her brother didn’t go to church anymore, I was shocked (and secretly intrigued). I suppose that even then, I felt that “church” was a boring place where I wasted my time. I never paid much attention anyways, no matter how stern the nuns were, no matter how funny the homilies were, no matter how many bathroom breaks I got.

I think it was sometime around my junior year of high school when I completely dropped religion as a part of my life. At 16 years old, I was very sure of this; it was a world “with which I no longer wanted to have anything to do,” as Hermann Hesse stated in Demian. Before this, though, religion was something obligatory for me. What I mean to say is that after my confirmation ceremony, I really did not feel the sense of community that one should apparently be feeling when you get that blessing from the Bishop. In the Catholic religion, the confirmation ceremony is the final step for a child before they become an “adult” in the community, similar to a Jewish bar and bat mitzvah. But I felt no different leaving the church than I did walking in. So much for faith, right?

Something else that I have come to realize is that I never felt that religion was a big part of my life. I had a subconscious set of rules that I followed, which had formed based on my exposure to Catholicism for my entire life, but that’s where the line is drawn. As I mentioned earlier, I never had that special feeling of being “fully integrated into the community” when I got confirmed. I never had that special epiphany. My soul (whatever that is) was neither touched by nor filled with the Holy Spirit. I think that that point in my life was when I really doubted all the things that were being told to me by my teachers, my family members, and the priests.

Going to a public high school really turned my life towards the better. I didn't have to go to religion class. I wasn't tested on how well I knew the 10 Commandments. I didn’t have to memorize the Apostles Creed. I didn’t have to sing questionable hymns in a dimly lit church full of kids who all wanted the same thing: to play outside on the playscape, and then go home. I can still appreciate churches and cathedrals for their architecture, though, and the purposes that they served. Not only a beautiful meeting place for people of a strong community, but also a safe house. Namely, the grand cathedrals in England that served as shelters during the Blitz of World War II, so that’s something.

My decision to be an ex-Catholic (as dramatic as that sounds) has had some negative repercussions amongst my family. My parents, naturally, attempted to support me in my endeavours, and said that they would “try to respect my opinions”. After the first child, it gets easier. My sister, too, is an ex-Catholic. She was more discrete about dropping her affiliation with the religion, though. First, she stopped going to mass. It always starts with that. Then, she just stated that she was no longer Catholic, one day in the summer. It was quite a surprise for my parents, but they dealt with it easily. It was definitely more smooth than me literally answering my mother’s question of “How was your day at school?” with “I’m not a Catholic anymore,” but I digress. Perhaps my sister had something to do with my own loss of interest in religion. I did look up to her, after all. She was the original, and I was the CNTRL C + CNTRL V. Old habits die hard, I guess.

My parents are fine with it now, but there were definite instances where my “atheism was getting in the way”. Evenings at the dinner table were always fun, when they didn’t end up with someone stomping off to the porch to angrily fume in the outside air. We tried to keep the conversations away from anything politics, religion, and/or business-related, but sometimes the conversations were as wild as a mare, and we were unable to control it when it got out of hand.

As I think it over, I’ve come to the conclusion that religion has, in a way, held me back in many aspects of my life. There are certain morals based around Catholicism that I still hold to myself, but these morals have restricted me in building lasting relationships with people. What’s more is that I was very biased against many different kinds of people for most of my childhood. Due to how my parents connected religion to politics, I remember being furious when seeing the final results of the 2008 Presidential Election, only because my dad was angry that a Democrat had won. I did not know a single policy of the government at that time, but since the Church and the State was so connected in my family, I equated one party with good and moral people (Republicans), and the other with the exact opposite (Democrats). This too, has changed for me. In this way, I was held back from realizing my own political views, which are very different from my parents. They now set me apart from all members of my family, which can be very alienating.

I never got the chance to choose my religion, so that could also be a contributing factor to the grand question of why I dropped religion. Do I want to follow a different religion in the future? This is something I have definitely thought about and strongly considered, but to no avail. There are so many options that I could explore and research; but would I be able to find the right one for me? This calls for me to do some reflecting on myself, and what morals I hold close. I could be a Deist, a Wiccan, an Atheist, a Druid, a Heathen, an Agnostic, a Taoist- the possibilities are truly endless. For now, however, I simply wish to leave that part of my life empty. Maybe one day, if something really calls to me and draws me in, then I’ll see where it takes me. Would I ever go back to Catholicism? No. I had quite the ride, but it was not the one for me.

As for myself, I can acknowledge that I fall under the “agnostic” category. Maybe someday, I’ll find a faith that I can follow willingly. Maybe someday, I can be a part of a community that shares the same beliefs, and has utter confidence in those beliefs. Maybe someday, I’ll find a group of people that practice what they preach, and they will accept me into their company. But as for now, I can only twiddle my thumbs and wonder about a lot of things. What makes the snow so white? How does snow collect in such a way? Why is it that the sun rays don’t melt the snow faster? What is the sun? What’s up with our solar system anyway? 

Even now, in all my adult confidence, I have a hard time admitting that I do not follow any religion. I’ve been so used to simply saying “I’m Catholic” that saying anything else still feels odd. I don’t go into details unless someone asks; the story is not that extravagant anyway. It is even more challenging for me to admit that I am an agnostic. It’s less acknowledged than Atheism, but still relevant. The part that really throws people off is how different it is than Atheism, and different still from not following a religion. Agnosticism is, in simplest terms, that the existence of any deity or higher being is unknown. There’s something unexplainable going on, so I couldn’t explain it to you if I had all the time in the world. For now, I am neither denying, nor agreeing with anyone. I’d like to keep it that way for a while.

[authors-dumpster]

Cottage in the Middle of the Woods

Any place labeled as “up north” in Michigan is almost always perceived to be a certain type of place. Often times, when a Michigander hears the words “up north”, they’ll either think of their cottage (or lakehouse for the more prestige), or think of cities like Charlevoix, Petoskey, Traverse City, Boyne City, or East Jordan. They are bustling with activity during the warmer months of spring, definitely throughout summer, and still through the warmth that lingers into the fall months. They are perfect cities in which to live the “Lake Life” dream. But as the warmth fades, so do the people. Namely, the summer-loving tourists that have their lives to return to, and these up north cities become desolate, boring, dull. There are also smaller, lesser known “up north” places such as Walloon, Alpena, and Thunder Bay that see less action, but are no less enjoyable. The winter decline is on a smaller scale, but still common. Lesser known for a non-Michigander, that is. Gaylord, Michigan is also one of these lesser known “up north” places.

In northern Michigan just east of I-75, where M-32 intersects with this freeway, lies a city called Gaylord. This city is in between Boyne City and Lewiston. If you were to ask a Michigander where the city of Gaylord is, then they would probably say something along the lines of, “Well, it's in the upper part of the mitten, probably by the middle finger. If you look at my fingers, it’s somewhere along the space in between my middle and ring finger, and just around the second knuckle of my middle finger.” The classic tactic of using one’s hand as a map is probably the most fascinating part about living in Michigan. What’s even better is the lengths that people will go to to use their other hand to represent the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. I suppose that us Michiganders believe it is a reliable map.

Traveling to Gaylord Michigan from my home near Detroit was a 220 mile adventure. The trip took about four hours. This time includes at least two bathroom breaks (one being a stop for gas and one being a most necessary McDonald’s pit stop). After spending just under 200 miles on the freeway, exiting was a relieving escape. My two siblings and I- more specifically my younger brother, older sister, and myself- would almost always fit in one Lord of the Rings movie and a few episodes of Scooby Doo, or two Harry Potter movies. There wasn’t really much else that we wanted to watch on the built-in DVD player of the army green GMC Yukon that my mother drove for at least five years of my adolescence.

After exiting the freeway, the drive through Gaylord seemed endless to my young mind. But then again, sitting in a hair salon waiting area for five minutes also seemed endless to me. I never really paid much attention to the drive through the hustle and bustle of city life in Gaylord, mainly because there wasn’t much anyways. Gaylord was and is a small town. There is approximately one or two movie theaters (sometimes, one of the cinemas would not be showing any movies for noticeable periods of time). There is one bookshop worthy of visiting, while the other is more like a book showroom and very difficult to find a book that was published after the year 2000. There is a very small selection of original restaurants, including names like the Bearded Dog and the Alpine Grille, all of which serve good quality food and are exactly what one would expect from a small town in northern Michigan: Hearty American food, with the occasional seasonal catch sprinkled in. Once there, we would spend the first day unpacking the car, our suitcases, and opening the cottage itself. Opening chores include: spider check, mouse check, water pipe check, temperature check, and of course making sure my father had “turned on the toilets” so we could take care of business. The second day was spent “on vacation”. We would have lazy mornings, lay out on our small beach or play in the calm lake for a majority of the afternoon, and then enjoy a home cooked dinner that all five of us had helped with. My mother was the head chef and did most of the work, but I like to think I helped greatly by setting the table with my brother and sister minutes before the food was served.

The drive becomes more and more rural passing into Otsego County until eventually the pavement disappears and you are left to your devices with dirt roads, small hills, and forest patches that all look the same. Going up north to visit my cottage with my family was something that was just part of our regular schedule. Unfortunately, as the years went on, the time we spent at our cottage in Gaylord slowly decreased. As my siblings and I grew up and my family became more busy, going to the cottage to hang out “up north” was not a priority anymore. We were becoming the summer-loving tourists who just wanted a slice of Lake Life once in a while.

The driveway to our cottage was a dirt path serpentine of 100 meters. A clearing opens up and the first thing to see is a two-story brown structure that can only be described as a 1,580 square foot, chalet style cottage, and a matching shed only 10 meters to the right hand side. The main structure was built in 1984, and renovated in 2002. Walking beyond the cottage and around to the other side from the driveway provides a lakeside view from a 557 square foot deck, or from the wooden double lawn glider on the left hand side. This lake, however, is more like a pond. Navajo Lake, or Long Lake, is a whopping 2,000 meters from north to south end, 300 meters from east to west end, and about eight feet deep in the middle of September after the summer rain has done its job. The main inhabitants of Navajo Lake are Walleye, Pike, Bass, and Bluegill. There have been many Bullfrogs that hopped across the sandy waterline, but none stayed to sunbathe long enough to be captured by my little brother and his trusty blue bucket from Glenn’s, the only grocery store in the city my mother trusted.

The city of Gaylord, also known as the Alpine Village of Michigan, was founded in 1872 under the name “Otsego Lake”. Otsego county, however, was originally called Okkuddo in 1840. This word comes from an unnamed Native tribe meaning “sickly”. Three years later, it was named Otsego after the county in New York. The word Otsego also comes from Native Americans meaning “clear water”, which is the same name of the biggest lake in the county: Otsego Lake. The city name Gaylord comes from Augustine Smith Gaylord, who was an attorney for the Jackson, Lansing & Saginaw Railroad, which ran right by Navajo Lake for some time. It is only now, three years after the very last time we vacationed in Gaylord, that I understand why there are railroad tracks under the sand of our humble beach. My parents made the executive decision to sell the lovely chalet cottage in 2016. I have only revisited the place in photographs and memories.

At some point I have to wonder, when does nostalgia start? And for what, exactly, am I nostalgic for? Perhaps the feeling is not nostalgia at all, but something else entirely. Something like a protective instinct. My family’s lovely cottage in the middle of the woods was a perfect escape from the stressors of daily life. Nature, however, can only be an escape if you make time for it. And I can no longer call this place mine. These up north cities are seeing the more unfortunate portion of a seasonal situation. I have observed the average population of the more vacationed up north cities dropping by nearly half every winter for the six years that I have actually been noticing this phenomenon. It was brought to my attention by my mother, who was disappointed one winter day in 2013 to find the American Spoon in Petoskey was closed, and on restricted “winter hours”. This has undoubtedly been happening long before I noticed it, but I cannot rid my mind of these seasonal influxes seen by bigger up north cities, and often I think about how locals have had to adapt their lives to this annual occurrence.

In the summer of 2018, my family was the perfect summer tourist. We rented a Boyne City house on Lake Charlevoix like so many others. We took our small speed boat onto the lake and spent hours putzing around, blending in with the countless other boaters dotted around the surface of the dark blue water like Welsh sheep on a grassy hillside. In the city of Charlevoix, at a quaint café called Hardwood Gold, I had a conversation with the barista about seasonal tourism. After voicing how devoid of people the city becomes during winter months, he replied, “It is what it is. Have a nice day!”

I would hope that this is not all there is for up north cities that vast amounts of people undoubtedly adore. What is it about these big up north cities that make them so desirable? Where is the same sentiment for the lesser known up north cities? Is it a muddled desire to be closer to nature? If someone is making time for nature, it should be a frequent occurrence, not a seasonal one. Gaylord has thus far escaped this fate, which seems to only befall the “hot” destinations, but as the city slowly grows and the beaches of Otsego Lake become more visited, Gaylord may follow in the footsteps of cities.

[authors-dumpster]

Chit-Chat

The morning air was crisp, as it usually is in the Vatican City when Autumn rolls around. Gabriel liked it that way. From the ledge of a high window in a chapel, he could see the day-goers, the tourists, the old reverend couples paying a visit, the worshippers, and the vendors. He didn’t mind the variety of people streaming into the city so frequently; actually, he encouraged it. To Gabriel, any visitor of the Vatican City was sent by the Lord, and so they were meant to be there, as they were welcome. What Gabriel didn’t like, however, was the frequency with which he was chased by cats, dogs, and little kids. Acting as a peace dove of the Pope was not particularly hard, but it was the job given to Gabriel when he was deployed to Earth by God, so he had to obey. He wished, sometimes, that he could return to heaven, but an Angel must be obedient. Obedient Angels do not wish for anything for themselves. Especially not Archangels, who are the Lord’s highest ranking warriors. Gabriel remembered what happened to Lucifer when he went off wishing for things.

Most days were quite uneventful. Gabriel would perch up high with his brothers and sisters, watching the crowds, send messages to siblings deployed elsewhere, and report back to Heaven. He was a Messenger and Archangel of God, after all. Once in a while, Gabriel would be a part of a ceremony, but they were quick and painless. Although, he did wish that his handler would be a little gentler when he gets tossed into the air, but so far nothing terrible has happened, so he can't really complain. That is, until Alistar showed up. In the morning, when Gabriel was on the morning headcount shift, everything that could have went wrong, did go wrong.

Gabriel always knew that it wasn’t only Angels sent to the Earth to do their duties; he had heard of the many Demon attacks, fights, and tensions that exist, especially within the Vatican City. Recently, he and his siblings have been investigating a series of attacks on the Holy City. They suspect it to be some force from Hell. Sent by whom, they do not yet know. They suspect some high-ranking Demon ordering some humilitatem to do the dirty work. Demons have been attempting to penetrate the walls of the Vatican for centuries, but they have been unsuccessful. This, too has changed. Demons are becoming bolder with their attacks, and have been striking the Angels positioned outside of the city. They all share something similar that has lead to a conclusion: Angels are disappearing; being taken to a place “off the grid”, as Michael- Gabriel’s fellow Archangel- put it.

However, Gabriel had never imagined that such a thing could happen to him- never in his 94 years on Earth has he ever been attacked by a Demon, until a month ago. He’d had his fair share fighting them, but had never been attacked. Gabriel was doing his job, as was expected of him, when he suddenly heard an awful noise, and smelt something toxic. There’s a myth that demons smell like sulfur, or rotten eggs, which is why Gabriel was so taken aback. What Gabriel smelled was not, in fact, sulfur, but tobacco. He turned around on his ledge to find the source, when suddenly a dark shadow came upon him, and then he was falling backwards through an open window.

Gabriel was so shocked, in fact, that he was paralyzed until he hit the hard, rocky floor of a secluded prayer room closed off to the public. Disoriented, Gabriel quickly got to his feet. On his way to the ground, he had changed shape to his natural form. Luckily, there were no humans in this room, so there were no issues yet. For if a mortal lays eyes on such a divine being, his Father says so often, they will be obliterated. Such awesomeness cannot be fathomed by any mortal, so it is pertinent that the True Form is concealed. An Angel must protect Humanity. In a human’s terms, Gabriel stood at about eight feet tall. His skin was dark, like the oil humans put in their machines. His hair was long, wavy, and golden like rays of sunlight. All Angels’ eyes were a white-gold colour, for they are all-seeing soldiers of the Lord. Gabriel wore minimal armor; he was agile and swift-footed, so he needed protection that was lightweight and allowed for much movement. His weapon of choice was a broadsword, but he was skilled with a bow and a spear, if necessary. His wings were dark grey, like the storm clouds that come in and cause the structures of the Vatican City to shudder. Gabriel took great pride in his wings; an Angel of the Lord cannot fly without their wings.

The room he landed in was dark, full of creeping shadows, but this was no issue for Gabriel. He looked at the old wooden kneeler, rotting from neglect and misuse. There was a faded fresco on the wall, the humans depicted were repenting while kneeling to God, asking for forgiveness for something that they did. The wall itself had massive chunks missing, making the fresco incomplete. The ceiling was giving away, and there were massive holes in the ground; from what or whom, Gabriel did not know. His attention, however, was very quickly caught by a dark figure leaning against the kneeler. Again, he could smell tobacco coming from the figure’s direction. Demon.

“Who are you, intruder?” Gabriel said, reaching back for his broadsword.

“Who are you?” The intruder replied in a mocking tone.

“I asked you first. Speak now, before I smite you. This is holy ground, and your kind is forbidden here. Step into the light, Demon,” the Angel demanded.

“Very poetic, Angel-face. Smite me if you want, but I’ll be back soon enough. Alistar’s the name. Pissing off your kind is my game.” The Demon, Alistar, took steps towards Gabriel until he was just out of reach of the Angel blade. He appeared as a human businessman, but with very good and expensive style. He wore a navy suit with a crisp, white button-down dress shirt under his suit coat that shimmered in the sun patch he was standing in. He stood tall, but not as tall as Gabriel- maybe about seven feet tall in human terms. Gabriel could see dark markings on the Demon’s chest that peeked out from his dress shirt. Why the Demon was not revealing his true form in entirety was suspicious to Gabriel. He would have to inquire about this, if he could first silence the damned thing for long enough to ask.

“How did you enter the Holy City? Demons are forbidden. You are trespassing on the Lord’s ground. Who se-”

“I’m gonna save you some divine breath and stop you there, bud. You Angels are so official and serious. It’s the 21st century for fuck’s sake! Stop talking like Jesus died last week! It gives me a headache,” Alistar put his long, white fingers up to his pale face and mockingly rubbed his temples.

“As if a Demon could even get a headache. You cursed beings may be deserving of such troubles, but I know that you are not prone to mortal ailments. Stop acting foolish and answer me, or prepare to return to Hell,” Gabriel drew his sword back, preparing for a fatal strike. Towering over the pompous creature, Gabriel saw a flicker of fear in that handsome face.

“Wait, hold on just a minute! No need to be so trigger happy! I’m just here to talk! I’m not even armed, you can’t strike me!” Alistar put his arms over his chest and leaned away from Gabriel, taking steps back.

Gabriel lowered his blade to Alistar’s chest, ready to run him through. He was becoming aggravated because of this Demon. Gabriel did not know why he had not killed the Hellion yet. Perhaps his curiosity (or whatever humans called it) was getting the better of him. Regardless, he put malice in his voice. “Those are mortal rules from across the ocean. This is the Vatican City. We are immortals, you stupid Demon. It seems that your arrogance is clouding your memory. I have every opportunity to strike you where you stand, but your foolishness is amusing me. However, I am growing bored very quickly, so I think it is time to crack on.”

Gabriel raised his sword again to strike, eyes blazing with intent and power, and swung down hard against Alistar’s chest. But the Angel felt no contact. The Demon was gone, dissolved into the shadows. Feeling even more aggravated, Gabriel looked around quickly, and listened hard. This was not his first encounter with a slippery Demon, and it certainly would not be his last. But they never got away in the end, Gabriel made sure of that. He looked up towards the ceiling of the prayer room, and there was the Demon scum, climbing swiftly towards the window they had fallen through.

“Fine. If it is a game you desire, then a game you shall receive. Prepare yourself, Demon! I know this city better than any of my siblings. You will not escape.” Gabriel bent his knees, centered his energy, and jumped into the air, his stormy wings spreading to their full length. Just as he landed on the ledge of the window, Gabriel changed his form back to a white dove. Protect humanity. Keep out the Demons. Defend the Holy City. Watch over the Pope. Those were the requirements for an Angel stationed in this city. Gabriel was obedient and able.

Alistar scrambled out of the window and he, too, changed shape. Not to a dove, no. He changed to something more sinister: a large Raven. It was commonplace for Demons to take the form of a Raven when they were near mortals, but not mandatory like it was for Angels. It was well beyond dusk when Gabriel quickly surveyed the city. Father, Gabriel looked towards the Heavens, where has our Light gone? How much time had passed in that prayer room? There is something highly suspicious about this Demon.

“Okay, Mr. Archangel. Gimme a moment,” Alistar hopped around on a ledge of a window about three feet away. His dark feathers glinted in the dying sunlight. “I’m not here to fight. I’m here to talk, and maybe we can make a deal.”

“Angels do not make deals with Hellions such as yourself! Such an idea is an act of heresy! It is disgraceful! I am an Angel of the Lord. Why would I even consider such an offer?”

“Would you believe me if I said you look particularly conversational today?”

“ENOUGH!”

The sun had disappeared beyond the buildings of Rome, which meant two things for Gabriel. One, he could shift back to natural form, as the city would be generally deserted at such an hour, so less risk of harm to humans. Two, Alistar would have a fairly hard time navigating the city with a fully-fledged Angel on his heels. Gabriel flew up several feet, quickly changed form, and landed on the ledge right next to Alistar.

The Angel swiftly drew his sword and said, “You have been entertaining, Demon, but now you must die.”

Alistar, still in Raven form, only cawed before taking off in flight towards an empty plaza. Gabriel dove after him, eyes blazing. Oh, how an Angel loves the chase.

~

“Cease this foolishness, Alistar! The outcome of this chase is obvious. I will admit that you have fought bravely, but you can resist me no longer. Look, now, at your wounds, and tell me if you wish to continue.”

It was true that Alistar had evaded Gabriel for some time, but he was no better at defending himself than an infant in the wild. Gabriel had not held back; he sliced and struck the Demon with his broadsword countless times. Alistar had changed to his true form shortly after the chase had begun, but Gabriel must have missed that transition. He took the time now to survey his work on the Demon, as he waited for a response.

Alistar was still a foot shorter than Gabriel, but most of his appearance had changed from his previous “rich businessman” look. Alistar’s skin was even more pale, to a point that it appeared blue. His hair was a deep black colour, shoulder length, and as straight as a needle. It fell into his eyes as he collected himself, thinking of what to say. His eyes were completely red, except for a black rectangle in the middle that resembled a goat’s eye, as were all Demons’ eyes. He too wore minimal armor, fit for agility. Alistar’s ears were pointed, and had clawed hands, like all Demons. His face was composed of sharp angles, similar to Gabriel’s; it was a sign of divinity. Gabriel was disappointed to note another similarity between them: bare feet.

“By all means, Demon, gather your thoughts at a glacial pace. You have hopefully learned how such a thing thrills me.”

Alistar flashed his pointed teeth as he snarled and jumped forward in Gabriel’s face. Actually, he reached Gabriel’s shoulder, but was still intimidating. “Will you please, for the love of God, shut. The hell. Up. You know, my father always told me that Angels are dicks, but wow. I get to experience it first-hand! I swear if I had some holy oil on me right now, I would Molotov your feathery ass! Did you even think, for one moment, that maybe- just maybe- I had tried to get you alone to talk to you about the attacks happening in your “Holy City”? Do you care where your siblings are disappearing to? Do you not wonder how I even got in the city? No! Of course not! The only thing you shitheads do is smite first, ask questions later!

“You’re too stuck up in your policy of obedience to even care about what’s happening right under your stupid, Celestial nose! You fear taking initiative in your “investigation” because God forbid- literally- you end up like your brother, Lucifer. I think you’ve made it really fuckin’ obvious that you want to kill me, that I am scum, that you have to follow your divine orders as an Archangel, so can you just shut up and let me deliver my message? Or are you too afraid to take orders from someone who isn’t your Heavenly Father?”

“You know nothing of obedience, Alistar,” Gabriel’s voice shook. He tightened his grip on the sword handle. “Since you are able to enter the Vatican City, it seems that you are obedient to no one. I don’t know how much of a humilitatem you have to be for this to be possible, but it is.” Gabriel paused here, studying the fuming Demon. Alistar had made many strong points in his rage. He was able to enter the city, something a normal Demon cannot do. He spoke of the attacks like he was firmly against them, like he was on the same side as the Angels. Also, Alistar had mentioned conversing with Gabriel several times now. Perhaps he could benefit from hearing this important message.

Gabriel narrowed his eyes, choosing his next words carefully. “You are making it harder and harder for me to resist smiting you. But, your talk interests me. I will agree to listen to your message. In order to gain my partial trust, you must wear these,” Gabriel reached towards a small pack on his hip, and pulled out something that resembled handcuffs used by human law enforcers and authorities, as well as a thick leather strap for a blindfold. He moved to sheath his sword, put in a little too much vim, and smirked as he noticed Alistar flinch. Stay on your guard. Keep him in check.

“Ooh, Celestial Bronze obterens manicis and a blindfold… Kinky.”

“Silence, Demon. Any more of your tomfoolery, and I’ll cut out your tongue. Then you will never deliver this precious message. I will take you to a secluded area within the Holy City, and we will talk. Make a wrong move, and you die. Attempt escape, and you die. Call for reinforcements, and y-”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. I’ll die. Big deal. Now can we just get going? You’ve had me up all night and I’m tired as Hell.”

The Angel glared at the Demon, strongly considering incinerating the damned thing on the spot. Instead, he swiftly put on the blindfold and willed the Celestial Bronze to bind the Demon’s hands.

“Come, we have much to discuss,” Gabriel ordered, leading Alistar forward with a firm grip on the arm.

[authors-dumpster]

The streetlamps cast a distasteful, pale, yellow light onto the visible surroundings. It was quite warm outside, but there was a refreshing breeze moving through the trees. Noisy bugs were buzzing around the light sources. A rabbit froze near a tree as a person trudged down the street. They were exhausted. It was just past three o’clock in the morning. The person had no sense of time, just that it was dark, therefore it was night. The person was a young man. The young man’s name was Wooyoung. Wooyoung was absolutely blasted drunk, and all he wanted was to sleep.

[authors-dumpster]

baseball au where personA is the best batter on their team and blows kisses to the opponents on the bases whenever they do their homerun loop and personB is the fed up opponent player on third base who punches personA in the face near the end of the game

[authors-dumpster]

Beaver Creek, the Ritz Carlton, and Byun Baekhyun. What more could Park Chanyeol want for a perfect vacation? However, a week together in Colorado proves more formidable than predicted- Chanyeol can't keep ignoring the flutter of his heart and the twist of his gut every time Baekhyun so much as even smiles at him. Chanyeol hopes that he can figure this all out before he does something stupid, or maybe he'll finally do something right.