#and my mom telling me that i 'should learn not to provoke them' and doing nothing about it

[teaberrii]

Chapter Ten: Surprise, Surprise

Alhaitham has the looks and the smarts. He will also be the stand-in CEO for his grandfather's company for a year.

But, he's been mysteriously cursed to turn into a cat every night since his eighteenth birthday… until he meets you, an employee at his grandfather's company, who rescues him as a cat and changes him back with one kiss.

Alhaitham/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on AO3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

“I was only gone for a few minutes!” Kaveh says as Alhaitham calmly gets off of you. “Y’all just couldn’t wait, could you?”

You sit up, your heart still racing from what had happened. Should you be thankful or disappointed that Kaveh showed up? You almost pulled Alhaitham closer, imagining what his lips would feel like against yours. But maybe you should be thankful… because there would be no going back.

You and Kaveh leave Alhaitham’s room as the man gets dressed. You’re keeping Kaveh company in the kitchen as he gets the takeout food ready.

“Haitham told me a bit about you.”

“Good things, I hope,” you joke.

Kaveh turns to you and puts a hand on the kitchen counter. “I’ve never heard him talk so fondly about someone before.” Then, he looks past you. “Why don’t you tell her, Haitham?”

Alhaitham walks up beside you, fully dressed. You meet his gaze, but you’re the first to look away.

“Doing so would only be for your enjoyment,” Alhaitham says flatly to his ex-roommate.

Kaveh laughs. “Fine. You got me there, Kittyman.”

As the evening goes on, you learn a lot about Kaveh and Alhaitham. Some include that they don't have siblings. Their parents are also still overseas. That's when Kaveh decides to ask you about your family.

“Haitham said you have two younger siblings,” Kaveh says.

“Aether and Lumine," you say. "They're twins."

“Raising three kids….” Kaveh sucks in a small breath as he pours you and Alhaitham more tea. “I can’t imagine how much work that would be.”

“I couldn’t either,” you say. “...Which was why I was so surprised when my mom wanted to adopt. I thought I was enough work already.”

Kaveh and Alhaitham glance at each other at this new piece of information. “Aether and Lumine are adopted?” Alhaitham asks.

You nod. “They were around ten years old when we adopted them. They’ve been through a lot of different families before then.”

“...Must’ve been hard on them,” Kaveh says.

“Yeah. They didn’t want to be separated. That made it hard… some families just wanted one child.”

“What made your mother want to adopt?” Alhaitham asks.

You chuckle softly. “That’s… a long story, Catman.”

“Well, we got the time,” Kaveh says. “I’m curious too, honestly.”

"My mother loves kids, so she always wanted a big family. But… not long after they had me, my father got into an accident."

“...Oh, geez,” Kaveh says quietly.

"He was left bedridden for many years," you continue softly. "...My mother took care of him until she decided to take him off life support at his request."

You feel someone’s fingers brush against yours. It’s Alhaitham’s.

“Did your mother ever remarry?” Kaveh asks.

"No." Then, you sigh. "It was only her and me for a while." When Alhaitham sees you hesitating, he gently puts his hand on yours. You give him a slight smile. "Even though she was a single mother, she wanted more kids. It wasn't until after things settled down that she looked into adopting since she was at an age where it was risky to get pregnant again."

“...And that’s how she found Aether and Lumine.”

“Yes,” you say to Alhaitham. “Maybe it was fate.”

“I guess that’s something you believe in,” Kaveh says, looking at you.

“I never thought you’d ask such a thought-provoking question.”

“These things are usually left to Haitham, right?” Kaveh shrugs. “I bet he’s curious about your thoughts, too.”

You glance at Alhaitham, who's looking at you intently. "...Well, the accident was out of my mother's control. But, if we continued to dwell on the past, nothing would change. My mother wouldn't have thought to adopt, and we wouldn't have met Lumine and Aether. So… I think everyone has more than one fate, but it's our actions that determine which path we take."

Kaveh smiles knowingly but keeps quiet about his thoughts.

“...I’m sorry about what happened to your father,” Alhaitham says. “You must’ve been young when that happened.”

Your bottom lip curls inwards as you nod. There’s more to the story, but it’s something you don’t want to share. Not at this time, at least, as it deals with your… troubled past. Perhaps Alhaitham picks up your hesitation as he doesn’t pursue the matter further.

“You know..." you say, "You could probably pass as their brother, Kaveh.”

“Me?”

You show him a photo of Lumine and Aether just as Alhaitham says, “I can see it.”

Kaveh leans closer to your phone. “Whoa… we do look a little alike, huh?” Then, he swings his arm around you. “Should I call you Sis from now on?”

"Are you the long lost brother?" you joke.

“What do you think, Haitham?”

Alhaitham subtly smiles. “Sounds like a plot to a story.”

You laugh. "Should I give you royalty fees if I use it?"

“Hey, hey, don’t forget about me!”

“We already have,” Alhaitham says.

Kaveh rolls his eyes. “Yeesh, why does it feel like I’m interrupting something?” Then, he leans back. “Oh, wait. I already did, didn’t I?”

“That—”

Kaveh waves his hand dismissively. “Just close the door next time, would you?” He smiles at Alhaitham. “Still, did you find out anything interesting about your curse so far?”

“She has to be the one to initiate it,” Alhaitham says. “It doesn’t work if I kiss her.”

“Kitty kisses are out of the question, huh?” Kaveh turns to you. “Careful, Sis. He’ll probably suffocate you with them in a fight to get on your good side.”

You glance at Alhaitham with an amused smile. “Nah. He’ll probably leave scratch marks.”

“Oh, it sounds like you speak from experience already. How far have you two gone?!” Kaveh looks down, “On second thought, don’t answer that.”

You shake your head with a small smile.

◆◆◆

It’s the day before the Awards Night, and you’re sitting at home reading Heart’s Desire when you hear a knock at the door. You already know who it is as it’s the day you’re meeting Alhaitham’s grandfather.

When you open the door, Alhaitham is dressed in a black dress shirt that's tucked neatly into his dark grey pants with a black belt. It’s something that you’ve noticed; he always dresses in dark colours, and he almost always leaves the first two buttons of his dress shirts unbuttoned. You get a whiff of his cologne along with his shampoo.

"You make me feel underdressed," you say.

Nonsense. Your casual, high-waisted plaid skirt and white turtleneck look great on you. Alhaitham doesn't know what it is, but the black pantyhose adds a nice touch to the outfit.

"How?" he asks. Then, he smiles slightly. "This outfit suits you."

Alhaitham is driving toward the hospital with you in the passenger seat when you ask about the kind of person his grandfather is. It's not like you're unfamiliar with him, but you've only seen the professional side. You're curious about what he's like without the corporate mask.

“...It seems like you want to make a good impression,” Alhaitham asks with an amused smile.

"W-Well, wouldn't you if you're meeting your boss? I know I'm meeting him as… your friend, but he's still the CEO. So I don't want him to think I'm unprofessional."

Ah. So, you’re treating this more like a professional meeting. Makes sense. But…

"Would your attitude and stance change if you met him as my girlfriend?"

You quickly turn to him. “What kind of question is that?”

“A genuine one.”

“I… suppose it wouldn’t be too different. That’s a different kind of pressure, though.”

Does this mean you wouldn't want to date him? Because of the pressure?

“Has your mother asked you about us?”

"Not a lot, surprisingly," you answer. "She hasn't mentioned matchmaking parties since that day, though." You sigh. "I guess she's waiting for those pictures and an update after our date." When you see him smiling, you raise a brow. "Um, what's with that smile?"

"Well, it's not like we'll stay at the hospital all day. So if you don't have any plans tonight, can I take you out?"

“Tonight?”

Alhaitham glances at you. “You sound surprised.”

“It’s just so sudden.”

“We’re already out.” When the car slowly pulls to a stop in front of a red spotlight, he turns to you. “...And you’re dressed so nicely today. It would be a waste."

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” you say with a small smile.

“Can I take that as a yes?”

You chuckle. “Well, Catman, I have high expectations.”

“That only makes me want to exceed them.”

You hold his stare but ultimately look away with a short laugh. “Let’s see what you got.”

Alhaitham pulls up to the hospital a short while later. As he parks the car and shifts the gears, he asks, "Did you tell Aether you'd be coming today?"

“I didn’t, actually,” you say, unbuckling your seatbelt. “I thought I’d surprise him.”

You didn’t know it’d be the other way around.

When you and Alhaitham arrive on your brother’s floor, you’re surprised to see him standing in front of a scared-looking Ayaka and glaring at two bigger boys.

“Aether?” you ask, quickly walking over.

Your brother turns to you, his eyes wide. “Sis? What are you doing here?”

One of the boys scoffs loudly. “Sis? That old woman is your sister?”

“Fuck off,” Aether spat.

The other boy grabs Aether by the collar, and you immediately glare at him. “Let him go.”

The boy looks at you. “And if I don’t?”

“This is a hospital,” you say sternly.

“So? Besides, your brother’s at fault. He messed with us first.”

“You were harassing her!” Aether says loudly.

Alhaitham is keeping a close eye on the situation when he sees Ayato out of the corner of his eye. The actor notices Alhaitham but quickly turns his attention to the scene in front of him.

“Ayaka?”

"We weren't harassing her," the boy says. He pushes Aether, but Alhaitham and Ayato steady him before he hits the ground.

The boy approaches Ayaka, but you step in front of her. "She clearly doesn't want your company," you say sternly. "Leave her alone."

“What’s an old woman like you gonna do?”

The boy raises a hand, but Alhaitham grabs his wrist. The boy turns around and desperately tries to move his arm, but the iron grip Alhaitham has on him renders him useless.

"You're causing a ruckus," Alhaitham says. A few patients have opened their doors, wondering what the noise is about. One of them is Alhaitham's grandfather. "Everyone here is a witness to your harassment."

The boys look at each other. Then, Alhaitham forcefully lets the boy go. He stumbles but gains his footing before glaring at Alhaitham and leaving with his friend.

“Kids these days…” Alhaitham’s grandfather narrows his eyes at the rowdy teens. “You’d think they have a shred of respect for each other.”

“Are you two okay?” Ayato asks. He puts his hand on Ayaka's shoulder.

"...I'm fine," she says. 

“What happened?” you ask Aether.

Aether looks away and puts a hand in his pocket. “We were supposed to go for a walk… and these two guys started bugging her.”

“They were just talking to me at first,” Ayaka adds quietly. “But, when I said I didn’t want their company, they started getting pushy.”

“So, I stepped in,” Aether mutters. "I told them to fuck off."

"...You're injured, Aether," you say.

Aether glares at you. “Did you want me to call a doctor or a nurse then? There wasn’t time!”

“I’m not blaming you."

“Well, it sounds like you are! What was I supposed to do? Just let them harass her?”

You're standing in front of your brother. "No, that's not what I'm saying at all." You look at his leg that's still in a cast. "You also could've gotten hurt."

“Aether…” Ayaka says quietly.

“I know,” your brother mutters. “I know, okay? I don’t need you telling me what I already know.”

You watch your brother grab his clutches from Ayato and storm off.

“...Is he going to be okay?”

Aether’s behaviour doesn’t surprise you. You’re used to it. He always gets moody when you “nag.” But, this time, he seems especially moody. Perhaps it’s because it’s in front of Ayaka.

“Haitham.” Alhaitham’s grandfather walks up to him. “Are these your friends?”

This is far from the introduction you’re hoping for.

“Yes,” Alhaitham answers. First, he gestures to you and says your name. “She’s my friend who you’ve heard about.” Then, he looks at Ayato. “Ayato is an actor who’s working on a project in one of our departments. Finally, he gestures to Ayaka. “This is his sister.”

"And that hot-headed young man back there…."

“That was my brother,” you say. "...I apologize for his behaviour."

You aren’t sure what his nod means, but you decide not to ask.

“This is my grandfather,” Alhaitham says, breaking the silence. “The CEO of Sumeru Entertainment.”

“C-CEO?” Ayaka gasps.

Alhaitham’s grandfather laughs. “Is it that big of a surprise, young lady?" Then, he turns to you. “You are the one who wrote Love in the Spotlight, yes?”

“Yes.”

He smiles. “It’s a very respectable work. I must say that I’m looking forward to what you come up with next.”

“T-thank you, sir.”

“Should we talk more inside?”

Alhaitham notices your hesitation. You must want to look for your brother. “Why don’t the three of you head inside? I’ll look for Aether.”

“Are you sure?” you ask.

Alhaitham nods. “...I’ll take care of him.”

Perhaps it is for the best. You're probably the last person Aether wants to see right now, next to Ayaka.

“Um, but what about me?”

“I think you know the answer to that, Ayaka,” Ayato says kindly. “We’ve all been there… wanting to look cool in front of a girl. He wouldn’t be comfortable if you consoled him.”

"I'm sure that young man will listen to reason," Alhaitham's grandfather says. "If he has the courage to protect a young lady, he has the potential to be a promising man."

You never imagined the meeting to take place without Alhaitham. Isn't that the reason you came here? Well, here's to another one of life's curveballs.

◆◆◆

When Alhaitham finds Aether, your brother is sitting on a bench alone. He’s looking at something on his phone, and when he senses someone approaching him, he looks to the side and awkwardly puts his phone away.

"...Did Sis ask you to come to look for me?" Aether asks.

“No.” Alhaitham glances at the empty space beside Aether. “Is this spot taken?”

“...Go ahead.”

So, Alhaitham takes it, and a short silence settles in until…

“What would you have done?” Aether asks, and Alhaitham looks at him. “...If my sister was in trouble like that, would you have done something?”

“I’d do anything to protect her.”

“...Then, I didn’t do anything wrong, right?”

“...Protecting someone isn’t just about protecting that person, however.”

Aether slightly tilts his head. “What do you mean?”

"Simply put, there are different ways to handle a situation."

Aether sighs. “...I know what you’re trying to say. I shouldn’t have charged head-first like that, right? I should’ve considered all of my options.”

“When something unexpected happens, we sometimes act on impulse, especially if it’s something we’ve never experienced before.” Alhaitham gives him a small smile. “No one is born knowing what to do in every situation. We learn through our experiences. So, you shouldn’t dwell on this. Rather, take it as experience.”

"That's sure is a positive way of looking at it," Aether says quietly. He hunches over. "...This isn't the first time something like this happened. A few years ago, I cussed at and punched a guy who was bugging Lumine. Sis had to come to the police station because mom was recovering from surgery."

Then, a quiet sigh. "I still remember how tired she looked," he continues. "She was already busy with work. I felt like I was just burdening her, but I couldn't control myself. But... in the end, I just caused more trouble for both of them." Aether groans. "I couldn't exactly protect Lumine. This time, I couldn't protect Ayaka." He sighs loudly. "She must think I'm pathetic."

“Are you sure?”

“...You sound certain that she doesn’t.”

“If your sister tried to protect you while she was injured, what would you think of her?”

Aether is silent for a short moment. Then, he says, “...I’d think she was stupid. Stupid… but kinda cool.”

“Would that not be what Ayaka thinks of you?”

“Yeah… but she thinks I’m stupid.”

Alhaitham chuckles. “Haven’t we all been there?”

Aether narrows his eyes. "You're telling me that girls have thought you were stupid? That's incredibly hard to believe. I mean… look at you! You're like…." He relies on his hands and body language to help him find the right word. But, eventually, settles with, "...Like if the word cool was a person!"

“But I wasn’t always the person I am now.”

“Um… what kind of person were you like before?”

"That's a secret. But I wasn't proud of him. I knew I had to make changes."

“How long did that take… to, um”—Aether awkwardly scratches the back of his head—“to become the person you are now?”

"...Let's just say it took a lot of experience."

Aether sighs again. “I guess I still have a lot to learn.”

“Knowing and acknowledging that means you’re already improving.”

Aether smiles. “So, I just upped my charm, right?”

“I would say so," Alhaitham says, returning his smile.

Then, Aether's face turns serious. "...I want to protect Ayaka, but I also want to protect my sisters. They're always worried about me… and I don't want to burden them anymore." He hops off the bench. "It's finally time for Aether 2.0!"

"Aether?" Aether and Alhaitham recognize the voice immediately. Lumine walks toward them and smiles at Alhaitham. "Mr. Neighbour! What are you doing here?"

“He was giving me experience points.”

Lumine raises a brow. “Experience points? What are you talking about, Aether?”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Aether waves his hand dismissively. “Did you come to visit?”

"No, Aether. I go to the hospital in my free time."

Aether returns his sister's deadpan look with one of his own.

“We were just heading back,” Alhaitham says, standing.

“Oh, if you’re here… does that mean Sis is here, too?” Lumine asks as the three of you walk back into the hospital.

"Why is everyone keeping hospital visits a secret now?" Aether asks. He looks at Lumine. "Even you didn't tell me you were coming!"

"It's called a surprise, Aether." Then, to Alhaitham, she asks, "Why'd you and Sis keep it a secret?"

“We’re here to visit my grandfather.”

Lumine gasps. “Wait… are you two that serious already?”

Alhaitham doesn’t want to admit that the two of you haven’t even started yet.

When Alhaitham opens the door to his grandfather's room, he hears a hearty laugh from him. Alhaitham guesses that he's in good company.

“Oh, Haitham, you’re back! And with… two young people this time.”

“Lumine,” you say, surprised.

Your sister smiles at you before turning to Alhaitham’s grandfather. “H-hello! My name is Lumine.” She points to you. "She's my sister, and"—she slightly frowns at Aether—"he's my brother."

After his grandfather greets her, he says, “It seems like we have quite a group here, don’t we?”

Aether walks up to you, and you stare at him calmly. “...Sorry for lashing out at you like that earlier. I didn’t mean to.”

“I shouldn’t have chided you like that,” you say with a small smile.

Lumine looks from you to Aether and back to you. “...Did something happen? What am I missing?”

“I still have to thank you for protecting Ayaka the way you did, Aether,” Ayato says. “I’ve already thanked your sister.”

Aether smiles at him and then turns to Ayaka. “...I promise I’ll protect you next time.”

"Um... why are we getting all sappy?" Lumine asks upon seeing Ayaka's shy smile.

You turn to Alhaitham, who catches you looking at him. Then, you quietly mouth, “What did you say to him?”

Alhaitham subtly smiles and gives a little shrug.

◆◆◆

“My, would you look at the time! It really flies when you’re having fun.”

It's true. It was shortly after lunch when you and Alhaitham arrived, and now it's almost dinner time.

“Should we go out for dinner together?” Ayato asks.

No, Alhaitham wants to say. He only wants to take you out to dinner. No siblings. No friends. Just you and him.

“Actually, we have plans.”

Everyone turns to Alhaitham, who looks unfazed.

“We?” Ayaka asks.

“Ooh, I get it,” Lumine says. “You’re taking Sis out to dinner, aren’t you?”

“Just the two of you?” his grandfather asks, raising a brow. “Aren't you two just friends?”

Aether and Lumine gasp simultaneously. “What!”

Oh no. You do not want to deal with the explanations right now, but it seems like it’s getting messier.

Before your siblings can bombard you with questions, Alhaitham says, “We’re a work in progress.”

You freeze when he takes your hand. Ayaka gasps quietly. Ayato’s kind smile doesn’t change. Lumine and Aether still look like they have questions.

“...A boss and employee relationship,” Ayato chuckles. “It sounds like the plot of a romance novel.”

“Boss and employee… relationship?” Lumine turns to Alhaitham. “Do you work with Sis? I thought you were a scholar at Akademiya.”

“Didn’t you know, Lumine?” Ayato asks. “Alhaitham is the stand-in CEO for Sumeru Entertainment.”

Lumine’s jaw drops, and she immediately turns to you. “You’re dating a CEO?!”

You feel like you’re sweating bullets now.

Aether slowly claps. “If mom knew, she would freak.”

You want to tell them not to tell your mother. Not yet, at least. But the Awards Night pops into your mind, and you figure Alhaitham’s identity will be revealed to everyone.

"We thought it would be best to keep our relationship a secret," you say. You know Alhaitham is looking at you, which makes you even more nervous. You can't have him doing all the work. It won't be fair. You turn to Lumine. "I didn't lie to you and mom. But we didn't want to mention that he's currently my CEO because we weren't official yet."

It surprises you how smoothly you said it.

Alhaitham's grandfather puts a hand over his heart. Everyone almost gets scared until he says, "Haitham… you have a lot of explaining to do. My heart can't take these kinds of surprises."

“I’m sorry I kept this from you,” Alhaitham says. “I—”

“But first, don’t you have a date to go on?”

You and Alhaitham glance at each other. But it’s Ayato who says, “Unless you’d like some company.”

“No.”

Alhaitham’s quick, flat response almost draws a soft laugh from everyone else.

“Well, get going then,” his grandfather says.

Before you and Alhaitham walk out the door, Lumine adds,” We want to see pictures!”

You look over your shoulder, and this time it’s you who flatly says, “No.”

◆◆◆

As soon as you and Alhaitham are in the car, you sigh. “...I thought I was going to get a heart attack.”

“Does this mean we’re official now?”

You glance at him and see that he's looking at you. "I don't know, Catman. Are we?"

He shifts the gears. “...You’re going to drive me crazy, you know."

“It’s only fair,” you say quietly.

Wait. Does that mean what he thinks it means?

“So”—you look straight ahead—“Where are you taking me?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Well, if I learned anything about you since the day we met, you’re full of surprises, Catman.”

Alhaitham eventually pulls up to the lakeside, where there's a long path for people to jog, walk, or bike. On the other side, there's a great view of the cityscape.

“An evening walk by the lake?” you ask with a small smile. “Simple yet… intimate, I would say.” You unbuckle your seatbelt. "And here I thought we were going to have dinner."

"Who says that isn't on the agenda?"

You smile. "Well, if you don't have a place in mind, can I pick the place?"

Alhaitham does. One of the most expensive—if not the most expensive—restaurants in the heart of the business district. The top floor has a gorgeous city view. He's been there before but never with someone special. Would it be childish to tell you he's always imagined sharing the nighttime city view with that special someone?

However, he'll let you choose. Just because he wants to do a little more if he does take you there.

"Of course," he answers.

You and Alhaitham walk side-by-side, enjoying the evening breeze that carries the sounds of laughter and quiet conversations.

“What did you say to Aether, by the way?”

"Nothing, really," Alhaitham says as a person jogs by. "He's a smart kid."

“I don’t doubt that, but I know my brother.” You look at him. “You must’ve worked some kind of magic on him.”

Before the biker behind you even gets a chance to ring the bell, Alhaitham has his arm around you and effortlessly sweeps you to his side. Your hands are on his shoulders. His arm is still around you, and your face is close to his.

“...Magic, huh?”

Your gaze falls to his lips. "...Or, is it top secret?"

“Secret or not,” he says quietly, slowly leaning closer, “I’d rather work my magic on you.”

Just before his lips brush against yours, you suddenly hear someone call your name. Startled, you pull back, and Alhaitham is just as surprised. Then, your name comes again, and you recognize the voice. This time, you turn around.

“Mom,” you say. “What a surprise.”

Chapter Eleven

Tag list: @suoshiii @lxry-chxn @seirenspinel @lordbugs @sakiimeo @ashtree-and-the-cats @ceylestia @forsh4dow @deathkat657 @kalpie @elernity @sentieence @chichibleeps @sunsethw4 @hjjks @tanspostsblog @nqctre @just-simping-over-genshin @uchihaeirin @vynbin @ayanokomu @dksfl920 @alatus2716 @itztaki @thetwinkims

[nczaversnick]

OC Questionnaires

Okay so @the-letterbox-archives tagged me in not one, not two but 5 of these. So I’m going to do all of them in one post for their favorite character in Project Gemini, Adrian Harlowe. (He’s my favorite too)

What is your favorite thing to do to avoid responsibility?

“Leave.”

If you could choose anyone in the world to be your sibling who would it be?

“Probably Quinn. They are the closest thing I have to family within the military.”

Authors Note: In the previous draft, they actually were siblings

What is the most sublime thing you have ever eaten and why?

“First of all what the fuck kind of word is sublime anyway? Secondly, I ate��science blocks of..not really food for like the first 20 years of my life. Anything that isn’t that, is worth its weight in gold.”

Authors Note: He means genetically engineered processed foodstuffs.

What was the worst day of your life?

“None of your business.”

Authors Note: In my defense the answer to this is an insanely massive spoiler.

What’s your worst nightmare?

“…………..I dream about it. The day I became Gemini. I don’t want to be him anymore”

If a monster asked you your worst nightmare what would you tell it and why?

“Unless that thing provokes me I’m leaving it there hell alone. And even if it does, it’s gonna have bigger problems than asking me about my nightmares.”

Would you give away secret information if tortured? Be honest.

“No.”

Authors Note: This is true. He is specifically trained to resist torture. Even then his sense of loyalty outweighs everything

Who could you trust most with a secret?

“My sister Aurelia. Even Cas knows there are things I told her and not him.”

You have been caught somewhere you should be! Quick, what is your excuse?

“As Gemini I outrank nearly every officer in the city. For rebel activity it’s really a ‘hit first ask questions later’ kind of interaction.”

How good is your sleep schedule?

“If you’re gonna antagonize someone about sleep go bother Iris. She’s the worst of all of us.”

Do you have any siblings? If so, is your relationship good?

“Yes. Aurelia is the reason I started fighting against the military instead of for it. She is the only person who understands me.”

What’s the toughest time you had to endure growing up?

“Uh…all of it? It’s not like being experimented on comes with summer vacation time or something.”

What’s your relationship with your family like?

“Well, we’ve talked about my sister already. My mom is dead. My dad….I met him. Once. Aurelia was coming with me, to help fight for deviant rights like my mom did. We told him he could come with but he said no. I haven’t heard from him since.”

Do you have any hobbies? If so, what ones?

“Not really. Between training and keeping up my cover as Gemini, there isn’t time for anything else.”

Authors Note: After Book 1, he picks up gardening. In later years, he does try to learn to play the guitar. He learns to appreciate music more at least

Do you dream often? What do you dream about?

“…..Yes. Often. More nightmares really. Of the experiments. Of Gemini. Of fire and ice raging until there’s nothing left of me anymore.”

Have you ever been in love?

“Well I don’t have a husband for shits and giggles.”

What is your least favorite thing in the world?

“Oh I mean other than Lucia, the military in general and capitalism, I’d have to say when you’re in a body of water and something touches your leg? That shits the fuckin worst.”

What is your pet peeve?

“When people use big or fancy words to say simple things. Like sublime? What’s wrong with just saying good? Or great?”

Would you consider yourself different?

“Given that I’m not only classified as a Deviant but also as a Zodiac, yeah I’d say I’m pretty fucking different.”

How far would you go to save a loved one?

“As far as I have to.”

Would you team up with your worst enemy if it was your only option?

“It would never happen. She thinks she owns me. But under the right circumstances, I could do it. But she wouldn’t.”

What is the worst insult you can give?

“That I can give? If I stop pushing you to be better than you were yesterday, then you’re a lost cause.”

What is the nicest thing someone could say to you?

“If they’ve got my back that is all I need.”

Are you a jealous person?

“Hell if I know. My husband and his sister sure are though.”

Have you ever committed a crime?

“That’s kind of the point.”

Are you neat or messy?

“Neat. Ish.”

How do you feel about crying? Let it out or hold it in?

“…it’s not about one or the other, it’s about knowing that there’s a time and place for feelings or for focus.”

Who do you live for? Why?

“My family. They are everything.”

Who has betrayed you most?

“Lucia, easily. She lied to me about who I was and where I came from.”

What style of accessories do you wear? Is it willingly?

“I have masks for Gemini and for rebel activities. Also several guns or knives for combat. Other than that….i have my ring. That at least was completely my choice.”

Tagging: @honeybewrites @wyked-ao3 @kittrrrr @zackprincebooks @theverumproject @the-golden-comet @fractured-shield @poppycat-writes @illarian-rambling @finickyfelix @kuebiko-writing @yourpenpaldee @willtheweaver @moltenwrites @davycoquette +open tag

[writingonesdreams]

Hello, hello, and happy STS to you Dreams. I hope you're having a lovely one.

So, I was curious, as I chronically am, about something. I'd love to hear about how you've seen your writing evolve. Like, what's your writing journey been like?

I know what I've seen from this side while we've been mutuals, but I'd like to hear what you've noticed about your writing and how it's changed. How has it evolved, have the kinds of stories you like to write changed, what has become your greatest strengths and do you know where you started developing them, how has your writing process changed, and where do you see it going from here?

Hi Ren, that's a very thought provoking question set, thanks for asking^^. This turned into a rumble.

How has my writing evolved? Hmm. I think that for a long time I didn't see the difference between storytelling and writing. I was always making stories and seeing movies in my head. It's part of who I am. I was the daydream child, and as a teen I used to say I'm only 40% living in reality.

So as long as I felt inspired and confident, I just wrote ahead little short stories as a kid and then longer stories for my mom. My first longer work was a Twilight fanfiction when I was 14 XD pretty much a sequel about Jacob and Renesmee. Then I started a new fanfic mixing with mermaids and new characters that got a bit too complicated for me. Then I changed schools and stopped writing for some time until I got back to it at 18.

Part of the process and the stops may have been my mom's work as an editor and the point that she reacted more to the mistakes than to the story I was trying to tell. This was very disheartening to the young me, even if she was right about the mistakes I made and edited those stories before I posted them. Few years later she told me how hard it was and that was disheartening further. XD

That must have been the point I stopped writing for a time, cause I respected my mom to the heavens and my writing skills weren't on the level she would have liked - and even more was the content. I mention it from time to time that my family is strictly anti-fantasy 😂 magic and fantasy books are a certified waste of time and energy, can't be sold, can't be understood, why are you wasting time with that...I kept hearing that from my mom and my grandpa, two writers and editors of the family who could have understood my calling. (Should I mention how I got stuck on painting when I was 8 after my dad told me it looked like a 4 years old scribbled it - completely killed off my painting dream XD).

That must have been the point I started running to English. I read in English so I could escape the judgement and control of my parents, so I could read my books in peace and they wouldn't be able to comment, cause they wouldn't understand. I got into tv shows and anime that taught me English in my teens, and that built the ground to ne writing in English as an 18 years old. A way to escape my pro editing mom XD and to distance myself from their distaste. Maybe fantasy is part of it too, cause my realistic fiction was unrealistic and "why aren't you writing about your own experiences"? Cause I wanted to escape those, duh (it was during the time I went to Austrian school and learned German and that was a very difficult taxing ride, cause for two years I didn't understand anything and I def didn't want to be writing about that).

I have a very ambitious, perfectionist and driven family. You don't complain, you excell and if you cry, the usual kind of comfort consists of "that's a stupid thing to cry over".

So def 18 as my homecoming to writing and start of English. I discovered tumblr and writeblr at the time, read a lot of fanfics, fell for fandoms. I started making my own stories, but I got too fascinated with the outlining stage and looking back it took a few years to realize I was collecting book outlines and not book drafts and that I wrote precious little scenes and some spinoff short stories.

The kind of stories I liked to write depend entirely on what books I was reading and what fanfics opened up my horizons. It's ironic that I liked fantasy for the freedom and possibility to make stuff up instead of researching and experiencing it (which I couldn't do cause I was too young to understand life and other blablabla), but I need to see the format or an example first before I can start doing it myself. But that's also my writing strenght - I can copy styles and scenes by reading them. So Twilight, Eragon, Vampire Academy, Harry Potter, Naruto, Star Wars, Fairy Tale and Supernatural fanfiction, The Originals, Red Winter, Transformation and Tuyo were all difining story milestones for the stories I wanted to write.

My focus shifted from heavy focus on fantasy and romance to a harder to define literary fantasy and platonic friendships. With my studies the cultural aspect and political opinions and ideological messages came as well as a way to cope and express what doesn't sit well with me. But all in all most of my stories are asking questions, characters combing flaws and various honest pieces and throwing them out there to see if it resonates.

Maybe my discovery of slice of life is so contradictory and slow for me, cause slice of life realistic fiction was always the kind my mother admired the most. On one hand I always wanted to appeal to her with that and on the other wanted to protest it and go the other direction, just to find my own niche and writing identity. But hating it to spite her might have hindered me too XD (combined with the plot focused writing advice culture of America) made me force myself to plot and focus on the external conflict that was very very uninteresting and frustrating for me and stifled me. It's funny how differnt the writing cultures and traditions over the world are, cause central europe and czechoslovak writing tradition and advice is entirely different. Their stories and advice focus on relationships and slice of life, don't think conflict or character change arc is at all needed.

Going forward I def want to focus on character driven slice of life stories. I just had a pro editor betaread the current draft of Tears of Iron and she said the fantasy world very much just props up the characters and that the story works, just not in a traditional USA publishers way (want to self-publish it anyway). But I'll keep with magical realism and literary fantasy for now, to keep the reality distance; though I'm afraid dragons and fantastical worlds make wrong promises to readers, since those won't be the focus of my stories. Or I'll add them more in later drafts, who knows.🤣

Thanks for the questions, Ren!

[icharchivist]

i know last post is a joke and it's bc chikage clearly has issues and like i say that all the time that i have 0 standarts but also I'm joking when i say that :( he has a lot of fascinating elements to him and he's much better than that...

(fucktons of spoilers for act 2 underneath) (also it got long)

yeah chikage has a terrible start in the story and he sure has flaws but he's also like a chara who canonically tends to repress his trauma and i could argue that a lot of his bad traits come from that in particular and i have so much sympathy for it (even more so since he begs for help about being saved from it in his character song)

to me it's someone who's been thrown into an awful situation and coped as he could, the fact he considers truth a weakness is indication that he could never feel safe being truthful, and the circumstances of his grief really put the fact he has unhealthy coping mechanism on fire to burn the only person he still cared about.

not to mention i think there's something just to be said about his dedication to stay in the organization to protect hisoka because it's the acknowledgement that his hands are so dirty anyway that he can keep dirtying them if it means he can protect the people he loves, but like again, in his song he begs to "be saved from this fate" so i doubt it's something he's doing because he truly doesn't mind - August wanted to free him too after all, and he knew Chikage better than anyone.

and imo there's a layer of self hatred that comes with being dedicated in staying the monster. just like also in citron's arc he accepts to be "the villain" again and be hated if that's what Citron needs of him, Chikage has no fun at all about it and he doesn't even bother to lie about it either which imo shows how much he's throwing his life away for others.

not to mention his lies are also a reflexion of that - by denying others of knowing about him he's sacrificing a part of his identity to keep everyone's safe and imo the fact he was truthful to Tsuzuru about that ways before he considered the spring troupe family (and that the lie he tells tsuzuru to get him to protect himself is still based on half truth) show that it's not something he's doing out of joy and that even at his worst he still considered ways to protect those people (even if it was for something as simple as he projected August on Tsuzuru that time)

also i do think a few of his deeper lies are based on half truth which i find fascinating. the story he tells Tsuzuru clearly is supposed to evoke August and Hisoka. The lie he tells Sakyo about where he was with Izumi is based on, if you boil it down, "making things right for your sibling" which is still exactly what happened then.

also to anyone who called his lies gaslighting, please actually research what gaslighting is because it's not what he's doing. it's not a synonym for lying. gaslighting implies wanting to make their victim doubt their reality by enforcing that their recolection of an event was made up by them and remplacing said recolection by a lie. it's a manipulation tool to make people think they cannot even trust themselves. and it is a paterns, not a one off thing, because it's a form of long term abuse. Chikage always says he's lying about himself, not about what people think they know, he made it clear that people shouldn't trust what he's saying, the only "lie" he keeps up is about his identity and it's to protect everyone, even in the end he tells Sakyo that he wishes he could tell the truth but he can't share it. "Rather than fooling others, i'm better at fooling myself" as he says in his character song. also another indication than his lies are a coping mechanisms to set distance with his own feelings and keeping people from getting too close, not to manipulate others. (note also that as far as i can tell he never lied to Hisoka, ie the only person who actually knows him).

when people love or relate to a character who sees themselves as the villain, as the monster, there's deeper truth that can be unveilled for that.

and if he's honest about it, considering his thoughts on his mother and step dad(s) i think there is a deep cut into his ability to trust others because of that situation and it is so deep that it's probably more arguments on why he closed himself to this point. also i know ppl are mad at the direction this took and yeah i get it but it's a him problem, he just doesn't want to be touched and I'm still mhmmm at the amount of trust you must have lost from your parents to get to such a level of repulsion.

but without even going that deep a lot of Chikage's fans I've met are Gekka fans and they're especially emotional over his dynamic with Hisoka and his attempts to now make things right toward him. and imo part of the reason Chikage doesn't apologize (which i saw people being angry about) is because he doesn't even forgive himself for the things he's done, he's doing the right thing now because he wants to protect what he loves but i don't think he deserves to be forgiven, which is why he also tried to run away that one time, before he could have this one convo with Hisoka when they talked about their shared trauma.

(tbh add the lyrics to Scarlet Game where Hisoka says "but only i was forgiven" because he's the only one who got out of the organization in the end and allowed to move on while it acknowledge that as long as Chikage remains in the organization he is stuck unable to move on from the horrible things he has done and will do for it. Chikage is like trapped and he picked that fate to make sure Hisoka was safe but it's so sad.)

I'd also argue that considering act 2 acts in pair, with the spring and winter chapter foiling each other and summer and autumn doing so as well, Chikage's family mistrust and how it impacted him can and should be set in parallelism with Guy's situation, because both seem to have been coping with their mother's poor decisions in men and the neglect that followed in letting their kids being hurt and repressing themselves because of that and joining organization where both could be tools with a distance toward their emotions. tho that does rely on Chikage telling the truth about that one thing but so far I'd tend to believe it.

Chikage's copings are a dumpfire and it doesn't help that his grief was so raw that he just fucked up everything, but the amount of trauma that hides underneath is so compelling to me.

also lbr but i also don't trust someone who keeps a potion used to comit suicide on him at all time is someone who is completely at peace with his life. the organization likely wired in all gekka that their lives didn't matter and that they should throw it out for the organization and imo it gave them a unhealthy rapport to death. even the fact Chikage did threatens Hisoka that he "should not come back alive if August dies" the aftermath showed that it's not something Chikage seriously thought. imo i believe Chikage believed that, but when he learnt of Hisoka's death he must have felt partially responsible and realized the weight of his words. while it's an horrible thing to say the fact Hisoka rolled his eyes at it means, imo, that they were both wired in not setting values into their lives anyway. and considering how quickly Hisoka tRIED TO KILL HIMSELF i would actually bet that it extends to Chikage. i believe both of them were wired with suicidal thoughts they could easily act on. again, the fact August tempered with the potions imo really show he expected both brothers one day to kill themselves and he tried to prevent that blaming himself for it. so yeah while what Chikage told Hisoka was awful, they were probably both raised with that mindset, Chikage realized too late the weight of this mindset and has now an opportunity to fix it, but i also think it shouldn't be brushed off that Hisoka acted on it and tried to kill himself and that by all account, Chikage would have a similar thought process.

(also feel like it reflects in their character song of suicidal idealization but in different ways: Hisoka of not wanting to wake up, to keep living in a dream because reality frightens him and he's scared of himself, while Chikage's would probably be more about how he feels like he cannot be saved from his fate. that's overreading though but i think about it a lot)

ALSO (this is the fourth time I'm editing this post with an addition) his spice addiction is something to consider bc I've read a thread about it once and, it seems that, spices unleash specific chemicals that sends a pain reaction to the brain that is answered with andorphine to ease the pain and it is what brings joy out of it. Chikage eats an ungodly amount of spice which is already alarming, he mentions it's the only food he can bear to eat but it took him a long while to appreciate it, so the guy just needed Homemade Chemicals to be stable and ironically those involve pain. it also can product an addiction and we know Chikage feels it that way bc of his "I'm in spice withdraw" line and that in his vampire backstage when he tries to stop eating spice it reflects on his mood a lot, Hisoka gets alarmed by how much of a bad mood Chikage is in. so like... it's not healthy for Chikage to do that and while now he probably eats spice just to eat it and the chemical reactions doesn't do as much effect (like coffeeaddiction) it still is that Chikage had to find ways to cope with his life and now he can't really let go and it's super sad to me?

and it's honestly incredible because i started this post wanting to share very personal reasons Chikage's arc echoed with me but instead with the preface alone it's a character meta that just stands on its own, so like, feel that i feel all of that for him while also having deeply personal reasons to connect with him. (not relate tho, not... really, but connect and feel sympathy)

so yeah i know I'm also one to joke about my low standarts when it comes to how i love Chikage because he has glaring flaws but all i see is a wounded man and i feel so much for him and imo there's a lot, lot of reasons to feel sympathy for him.

so yeah i love Chikage bye.

[blackwoolncrown]

”This essay has been kicking around in my head for years now and I’ve never felt confident enough to write it. It’s a time in my life I’m ashamed of. It’s a time that I hurt people and, through inaction, allowed others to be hurt. It’s a time that I acted as a violent agent of capitalism and white supremacy. Under the guise of public safety, I personally ruined people’s lives but in so doing, made the public no safer… so did the family members and close friends of mine who also bore the badge alongside me.

But enough is enough.

The reforms aren’t working. Incrementalism isn’t happening. Unarmed Black, indigenous, and people of color are being killed by cops in the streets and the police are savagely attacking the people protesting these murders.

American policing is a thick blue tumor strangling the life from our communities and if you don’t believe it when the poor and the marginalized say it, if you don’t believe it when you see cops across the country shooting journalists with less-lethal bullets and caustic chemicals, maybe you’ll believe it when you hear it straight from the pig’s mouth.”

>>Copied here in case anyone gets paywalled when they click the above. The full article is...a lot.<<

WHY AM I WRITING THIS

As someone who went through the training, hiring, and socialization of a career in law enforcement, I wanted to give a first-hand account of why I believe police officers are the way they are. Not to excuse their behavior, but to explain it and to indict the structures that perpetuate it.

I believe that if everyone understood how we’re trained and brought up in the profession, it would inform the demands our communities should be making of a new way of community safety. If I tell you how we were made, I hope it will empower you to unmake us.

One of the other reasons I’ve struggled to write this essay is that I don’t want to center the conversation on myself and my big salty boo-hoo feelings about my bad choices. It’s a toxic white impulse to see atrocities and think “How can I make this about me?” So, I hope you’ll take me at my word that this account isn’t meant to highlight me, but rather the hundred thousand of me in every city in the country. It’s about the structure that made me (that I chose to pollute myself with) and it’s my meager contribution to the cause of radical justice.

YES, ALL COPS ARE BASTARDS

I was a police officer in a major metropolitan area in California with a predominantly poor, non-white population (with a large proportion of first-generation immigrants). One night during briefing, our watch commander told us that the city council had requested a new zero tolerance policy. Against murderers, drug dealers, or child predators?

No, against homeless people collecting cans from recycling bins.

See, the city had some kickback deal with the waste management company where waste management got paid by the government for our expected tonnage of recycling. When homeless people “stole” that recycling from the waste management company, they were putting that cheaper contract in peril. So, we were to arrest as many recyclers as we could find.

Even for me, this was a stupid policy and I promptly blew Sarge off. But a few hours later, Sarge called me over to assist him. He was detaining a 70 year old immigrant who spoke no English, who he’d seen picking a coke can out of a trash bin. He ordered me to arrest her for stealing trash. I said, “Sarge, c’mon, she’s an old lady.” He said, “I don’t give a shit. Hook her up, that’s an order.” And… I did. She cried the entire way to the station and all through the booking process. I couldn’t even comfort her because I didn’t speak Spanish. I felt disgusting but I was ordered to make this arrest and I wasn’t willing to lose my job for her.

If you’re tempted to feel sympathy for me, don’t. I used to happily hassle the homeless under other circumstances. I researched obscure penal codes so I could arrest people in homeless encampments for lesser known crimes like “remaining too close to railroad property” (369i of the California Penal Code). I used to call it “planting warrant seeds” since I knew they wouldn’t make their court dates and we could arrest them again and again for warrant violations.

We used to have informal contests for who could cite or arrest someone for the weirdest law. DUI on a bicycle, non-regulation number of brooms on your tow truck (27700(a)(1) of the California Vehicle Code)… shit like that. For me, police work was a logic puzzle for arresting people, regardless of their actual threat to the community. As ashamed as I am to admit it, it needs to be said: stripping people of their freedom felt like a game to me for many years.

I know what you’re going to ask: did I ever plant drugs? Did I ever plant a gun on someone? Did I ever make a false arrest or file a false report? Believe it or not, the answer is no. Cheating was no fun, I liked to get my stats the “legitimate” way. But I knew officers who kept a little baggie of whatever or maybe a pocket knife that was a little too big in their war bags (yeah, we called our dufflebags “war bags”…). Did I ever tell anybody about it? No I did not. Did I ever confess my suspicions when cocaine suddenly showed up in a gang member’s jacket? No I did not.

In fact, let me tell you about an extremely formative experience: in my police academy class, we had a clique of around six trainees who routinely bullied and harassed other students: intentionally scuffing another trainee’s shoes to get them in trouble during inspection, sexually harassing female trainees, cracking racist jokes, and so on. Every quarter, we were to write anonymous evaluations of our squadmates. I wrote scathing accounts of their behavior, thinking I was helping keep bad apples out of law enforcement and believing I would be protected. Instead, the academy staff read my complaints to them out loud and outed me to them and never punished them, causing me to get harassed for the rest of my academy class. That’s how I learned that even police leadership hates rats. That’s why no one is “changing things from the inside.” They can’t, the structure won’t allow it.

And that’s the point of what I’m telling you. Whether you were my sergeant, legally harassing an old woman, me, legally harassing our residents, my fellow trainees bullying the rest of us, or “the bad apples” illegally harassing “shitbags”, we were all in it together. I knew cops that pulled women over to flirt with them. I knew cops who would pepper spray sleeping bags so that homeless people would have to throw them away. I knew cops that intentionally provoked anger in suspects so they could claim they were assaulted. I was particularly good at winding people up verbally until they lashed out so I could fight them. Nobody spoke out. Nobody stood up. Nobody betrayed the code.

None of us protected the people (you) from bad cops.

This is why “All cops are bastards.” Even your uncle, even your cousin, even your mom, even your brother, even your best friend, even your spouse, even me. Because even if they wouldn’t Do The Thing themselves, they will almost never rat out another officer who Does The Thing, much less stop it from happening.

BASTARD 101

I could write an entire book of the awful things I’ve done, seen done, and heard others bragging about doing. But, to me, the bigger question is “How did it get this way?”. While I was a police officer in a city 30 miles from where I lived, many of my fellow officers were from the community and treated their neighbors just as badly as I did. While every cop’s individual biases come into play, it’s the profession itself that is toxic, and it starts from day 1 of training.

Every police academy is different but all of them share certain features: taught by old cops, run like a paramilitary bootcamp, strong emphasis on protecting yourself more than anyone else. The majority of my time in the academy was spent doing aggressive physical training and watching video after video after video of police officers being murdered on duty.

I want to highlight this: nearly everyone coming into law enforcement is bombarded with dash cam footage of police officers being ambushed and killed. Over and over and over. Colorless VHS mortality plays, cops screaming for help over their radios, their bodies going limp as a pair of tail lights speed away into a grainy black horizon. In my case, with commentary from an old racist cop who used to brag about assaulting Black Panthers.

To understand why all cops are bastards, you need to understand one of the things almost every training officer told me when it came to using force:

“I’d rather be judged by 12 than carried by 6.”

Meaning, “I’ll take my chances in court rather than risk getting hurt”. We’re able to think that way because police unions are extremely overpowered and because of the generous concept of Qualified Immunity, a legal theory which says a cop generally can’t be held personally liable for mistakes they make doing their job in an official capacity.

When you look at the actions of the officers who killed George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, David McAtee, Mike Brown, Tamir Rice, Philando Castile, Eric Garner, or Freddie Gray, remember that they, like me, were trained to recite “I’d rather be judged by 12” as a mantra. Even if Mistakes Were Made™, the city (meaning the taxpayers, meaning you) pays the settlement, not the officer.

Once police training has - through repetition, indoctrination, and violent spectacle - promised officers that everyone in the world is out to kill them, the next lesson is that your partners are the only people protecting you. Occasionally, this is even true: I’ve had encounters turn on me rapidly to the point I legitimately thought I was going to die, only to have other officers come and turn the tables.

One of the most important thought leaders in law enforcement is Col. Dave Grossman, a “killologist” who wrote an essay called “Sheep, Wolves, and Sheepdogs”. Cops are the sheepdogs, bad guys are the wolves, and the citizens are the sheep (!). Col. Grossman makes sure to mention that to a stupid sheep, sheepdogs look more like wolves than sheep, and that’s why they dislike you.

This “they hate you for protecting them and only I love you, only I can protect you” tactic is familiar to students of abuse. It’s what abusers do to coerce their victims into isolation, pulling them away from friends and family and ensnaring them in the abuser’s toxic web. Law enforcement does this too, pitting the officer against civilians. “They don’t understand what you do, they don’t respect your sacrifice, they just want to get away with crimes. You’re only safe with us.”

I think the Wolves vs. Sheepdogs dynamic is one of the most important elements as to why officers behave the way they do. Every single second of my training, I was told that criminals were not a legitimate part of their community, that they were individual bad actors, and that their bad actions were solely the result of their inherent criminality. Any concept of systemic trauma, generational poverty, or white supremacist oppression was either never mentioned or simply dismissed. After all, most people don’t steal, so anyone who does isn’t “most people,” right? To us, anyone committing a crime deserved anything that happened to them because they broke the “social contract.” And yet, it was never even a question as to whether the power structure above them was honoring any sort of contract back.

Understand: Police officers are part of the state monopoly on violence and all police training reinforces this monopoly as a cornerstone of police work, a source of honor and pride. Many cops fantasize about getting to kill someone in the line of duty, egged on by others that have. One of my training officers told me about the time he shot and killed a mentally ill homeless man wielding a big stick. He bragged that he “slept like a baby” that night. Official training teaches you how to be violent effectively and when you’re legally allowed to deploy that violence, but “unofficial training” teaches you to desire violence, to expand the breadth of your violence without getting caught, and to erode your own compassion for desperate people so you can justify punitive violence against them.

HOW TO BE A BASTARD

I have participated in some of these activities personally, others are ones I either witnessed personally or heard officers brag about openly. Very, very occasionally, I knew an officer who was disciplined or fired for one of these things.

Police officers will lie about the law, about what’s illegal, or about what they can legally do to you in order to manipulate you into doing what they want.

Police officers will lie about feeling afraid for their life to justify a use of force after the fact.

Police officers will lie and tell you they’ll file a police report just to get you off their back.

Police officers will lie that your cooperation will “look good for you” in court, or that they will “put in a good word for you with the DA.” The police will never help you look good in court.

Police officers will lie about what they see and hear to access private property to conduct unlawful searches.

Police officers will lie and say your friend already ratted you out, so you might as well rat them back out. This is almost never true.

Police officers will lie and say you’re not in trouble in order to get you to exit a location or otherwise make an arrest more convenient for them.

Police officers will lie and say that they won’t arrest you if you’ll just “be honest with them” so they know what really happened.

Police officers will lie about their ability to seize the property of friends and family members to coerce a confession.

Police officers will write obviously bullshit tickets so that they get time-and-a-half overtime fighting them in court.

Police officers will search places and containers you didn’t consent to and later claim they were open or “smelled like marijuana”.

Police officers will threaten you with a more serious crime they can’t prove in order to convince you to confess to the lesser crime they really want you for.

Police officers will employ zero tolerance on races and ethnicities they dislike and show favor and lenience to members of their own group.

Police officers will use intentionally extra-painful maneuvers and holds during an arrest to provoke “resistance” so they can further assault the suspect.

Some police officers will plant drugs and weapons on you, sometimes to teach you a lesson, sometimes if they kill you somewhere away from public view.

Some police officers will assault you to intimidate you and threaten to arrest you if you tell anyone.

A non-trivial number of police officers will steal from your house or vehicle during a search.

A non-trivial number of police officers commit intimate partner violence and use their status to get away with it.

A non-trivial number of police officers use their position to entice, coerce, or force sexual favors from vulnerable people.

If you take nothing else away from this essay, I want you to tattoo this onto your brain forever: if a police officer is telling you something, it is probably a lie designed to gain your compliance.

Do not talk to cops and never, ever believe them. Do not “try to be helpful” with cops. Do not assume they are trying to catch someone else instead of you. Do not assume what they are doing is “important” or even legal. Under no circumstances assume any police officer is acting in good faith.

Also, and this is important, do not talk to cops.

I just remembered something, do not talk to cops.

Checking my notes real quick, something jumped out at me:

Do

not

fucking

talk

to

cops.

Ever.

Say, “I don’t answer questions,” and ask if you’re free to leave; if so, leave. If not, tell them you want your lawyer and that, per the Supreme Court, they must terminate questioning. If they don’t, file a complaint and collect some badges for your mantle.

DO THE BASTARDS EVER HELP?

Reading the above, you may be tempted to ask whether cops ever do anything good. And the answer is, sure, sometimes. In fact, most officers I worked with thought they were usually helping the helpless and protecting the safety of innocent people.

During my tenure in law enforcement, I protected women from domestic abusers, arrested cold-blooded murderers and child molesters, and comforted families who lost children to car accidents and other tragedies. I helped connect struggling people in my community with local resources for food, shelter, and counseling. I deescalated situations that could have turned violent and talked a lot of people down from making the biggest mistake of their lives. I worked with plenty of officers who were individually kind, bought food for homeless residents, or otherwise showed care for their community.

The question is this: did I need a gun and sweeping police powers to help the average person on the average night? The answer is no. When I was doing my best work as a cop, I was doing mediocre work as a therapist or a social worker. My good deeds were listening to people failed by the system and trying to unite them with any crumbs of resources the structure was currently denying them.

It’s also important to note that well over 90% of the calls for service I handled were reactive, showing up well after a crime had taken place. We would arrive, take a statement, collect evidence (if any), file the report, and onto the next caper. Most “active” crimes we stopped were someone harmless possessing or selling a small amount of drugs. Very, very rarely would we stop something dangerous in progress or stop something from happening entirely. The closest we could usually get was seeing someone running away from the scene of a crime, but the damage was still done.

And consider this: my job as a police officer required me to be a marriage counselor, a mental health crisis professional, a conflict negotiator, a social worker, a child advocate, a traffic safety expert, a sexual assault specialist, and, every once in awhile, a public safety officer authorized to use force, all after only a 1000 hours of training at a police academy. Does the person we send to catch a robber also need to be the person we send to interview a rape victim or document a fender bender? Should one profession be expected to do all that important community care (with very little training) all at the same time?

To put this another way: I made double the salary most social workers made to do a fraction of what they could do to mitigate the causes of crimes and desperation. I can count very few times my monopoly on state violence actually made our citizens safer, and even then, it’s hard to say better-funded social safety nets and dozens of other community care specialists wouldn’t have prevented a problem before it started.

Armed, indoctrinated (and dare I say, traumatized) cops do not make you safer; community mutual aid networks who can unite other people with the resources they need to stay fed, clothed, and housed make you safer. I really want to hammer this home: every cop in your neighborhood is damaged by their training, emboldened by their immunity, and they have a gun and the ability to take your life with near-impunity. This does not make you safer, even if you’re white.

HOW DO YOU SOLVE A PROBLEM LIKE A BASTARD?

So what do we do about it? Even though I’m an expert on bastardism, I am not a public policy expert nor an expert in organizing a post-police society. So, before I give some suggestions, let me tell you what probably won’t solve the problem of bastard cops:

Increased “bias” training. A quarterly or even monthly training session is not capable of covering over years of trauma-based camaraderie in police forces. I can tell you from experience, we don’t take it seriously, the proctors let us cheat on whatever “tests” there are, and we all made fun of it later over coffee.

Tougher laws. I hope you understand by now, cops do not follow the law and will not hold each other accountable to the law. Tougher laws are all the more reason to circle the wagons and protect your brothers and sisters.

More community policing programs. Yes, there is a marginal effect when a few cops get to know members of the community, but look at the protests of 2020: many of the cops pepper-spraying journalists were probably the nice school cop a month ago.

Police officers do not protect and serve people, they protect and serve the status quo, “polite society”, and private property. Using the incremental mechanisms of the status quo will never reform the police because the status quo relies on police violence to exist. Capitalism requires a permanent underclass to exploit for cheap labor and it requires the cops to bring that underclass to heel.

Instead of wasting time with minor tweaks, I recommend exploring the following ideas:

No more qualified immunity. Police officers should be personally liable for all decisions they make in the line of duty.

No more civil asset forfeiture. Did you know that every year, citizens like you lose more cash and property to unaccountable civil asset forfeiture than to all burglaries combined? The police can steal your stuff without charging you with a crime and it makes some police departments very rich.

Break the power of police unions. Police unions make it nearly impossible to fire bad cops and incentivize protecting them to protect the power of the union. A police union is not a labor union; police officers are powerful state agents, not exploited workers.

Require malpractice insurance. Doctors must pay for insurance in case they botch a surgery, police officers should do the same for botching a police raid or other use of force. If human decency won’t motivate police to respect human life, perhaps hitting their wallet might.

Defund, demilitarize, and disarm cops. Thousands of police departments own assault rifles, armored personnel carriers, and stuff you’d see in a warzone. Police officers have grants and huge budgets to spend on guns, ammo, body armor, and combat training. 99% of calls for service require no armed response, yet when all you have is a gun, every problem feels like target practice. Cities are not safer when unaccountable bullies have a monopoly on state violence and the equipment to execute that monopoly.

One final idea: consider abolishing the police.

I know what you’re thinking, “What? We need the police! They protect us!” As someone who did it for nearly a decade, I need you to understand that by and large, police protection is marginal, incidental. It’s an illusion created by decades of copaganda designed to fool you into thinking these brave men and women are holding back the barbarians at the gates.

I alluded to this above: the vast majority of calls for service I handled were theft reports, burglary reports, domestic arguments that hadn’t escalated into violence, loud parties, (houseless) people loitering, traffic collisions, very minor drug possession, and arguments between neighbors. Mostly the mundane ups and downs of life in the community, with little inherent danger. And, like I mentioned, the vast majority of crimes I responded to (even violent ones) had already happened; my unaccountable license to kill was irrelevant.

What I mainly provided was an “objective” third party with the authority to document property damage, ask people to chill out or disperse, or counsel people not to beat each other up. A trained counselor or conflict resolution specialist would be ten times more effective than someone with a gun strapped to his hip wondering if anyone would try to kill him when he showed up. There are many models for community safety that can be explored if we get away from the idea that the only way to be safe is to have a man with a M4 rifle prowling your neighborhood ready at a moment’s notice to write down your name and birthday after you’ve been robbed and beaten.

You might be asking, “What about the armed robbers, the gangsters, the drug dealers, the serial killers?” And yes, in the city I worked, I regularly broke up gang parties, found gang members carrying guns, and handled homicides. I’ve seen some tragic things, from a reformed gangster shot in the head with his brains oozing out to a fifteen year old boy taking his last breath in his screaming mother’s arms thanks to a gang member’s bullet. I know the wages of violence.

This is where we have to have the courage to ask: why do people rob? Why do they join gangs? Why do they get addicted to drugs or sell them? It’s not because they are inherently evil. I submit to you that these are the results of living in a capitalist system that grinds people down and denies them housing, medical care, human dignity, and a say in their government. These are the results of white supremacy pushing people to the margins, excluding them, disrespecting them, and treating their bodies as disposable.

Equally important to remember: disabled and mentally ill people are frequently killed by police officers not trained to recognize and react to disabilities or mental health crises. Some of the people we picture as “violent offenders” are often people struggling with untreated mental illness, often due to economic hardships. Very frequently, the officers sent to “protect the community” escalate this crisis and ultimately wound or kill the person. Your community was not made safer by police violence; a sick member of your community was killed because it was cheaper than treating them. Are you extremely confident you’ll never get sick one day too?

Wrestle with this for a minute: if all of someone’s material needs were met and all the members of their community were fed, clothed, housed, and dignified, why would they need to join a gang? Why would they need to risk their lives selling drugs or breaking into buildings? If mental healthcare was free and was not stigmatized, how many lives would that save?

Would there still be a few bad actors in the world? Sure, probably. What’s my solution for them, you’re no doubt asking. I’ll tell you what: generational poverty, food insecurity, houselessness, and for-profit medical care are all problems that can be solved in our lifetimes by rejecting the dehumanizing meat grinder of capitalism and white supremacy. Once that’s done, we can work on the edge cases together, with clearer hearts not clouded by a corrupt system.

Police abolition is closely related to the idea of prison abolition and the entire concept of banishing the carceral state, meaning, creating a society focused on reconciliation and restorative justice instead of punishment, pain, and suffering — a system that sees people in crisis as humans, not monsters. People who want to abolish the police typically also want to abolish prisons, and the same questions get asked: “What about the bad guys? Where do we put them?” I bring this up because abolitionists don’t want to simply replace cops with armed social workers or prisons with casual detention centers full of puffy leather couches and Playstations. We imagine a world not divided into good guys and bad guys, but rather a world where people’s needs are met and those in crisis receive care, not dehumanization.

Here’s legendary activist and thinker Angela Y. Davis putting it better than I ever could:

“An abolitionist approach that seeks to answer questions such as these would require us to imagine a constellation of alternative strategies and institutions, with the ultimate aim of removing the prison from the social and ideological landscapes of our society. In other words, we would not be looking for prisonlike substitutes for the prison, such as house arrest safeguarded by electronic surveillance bracelets. Rather, positing decarceration as our overarching strategy, we would try to envision a continuum of alternatives to imprisonment-demilitarization of schools, revitalization of education at all levels, a health system that provides free physical and mental care to all, and a justice system based on reparation and reconciliation rather than retribution and vengeance.”

(Are Prisons Obsolete, pg. 107)

I’m not telling you I have the blueprint for a beautiful new world. What I’m telling you is that the system we have right now is broken beyond repair and that it’s time to consider new ways of doing community together. Those new ways need to be negotiated by members of those communities, particularly Black, indigenous, disabled, houseless, and citizens of color historically shoved into the margins of society. Instead of letting Fox News fill your head with nightmares about Hispanic gangs, ask the Hispanic community what they need to thrive. Instead of letting racist politicians scaremonger about pro-Black demonstrators, ask the Black community what they need to meet the needs of the most vulnerable. If you truly desire safety, ask not what your most vulnerable can do for the community, ask what the community can do for the most vulnerable.

A WORLD WITH FEWER BASTARDS IS POSSIBLE

If you take only one thing away from this essay, I hope it’s this: do not talk to cops. But if you only take two things away, I hope the second one is that it’s possible to imagine a different world where unarmed black people, indigenous people, poor people, disabled people, and people of color are not routinely gunned down by unaccountable police officers. It doesn’t have to be this way. Yes, this requires a leap of faith into community models that might feel unfamiliar, but I ask you:

When you see a man dying in the street begging for breath, don’t you want to leap away from that world?

When you see a mother or a daughter shot to death sleeping in their beds, don’t you want to leap away from that world?

When you see a twelve year old boy executed in a public park for the crime of playing with a toy, jesus fucking christ, can you really just stand there and think “This is normal”?

And to any cops who made it this far down, is this really the world you want to live in? Aren’t you tired of the trauma? Aren’t you tired of the soul sickness inherent to the badge? Aren’t you tired of looking the other way when your partners break the law? Are you really willing to kill the next George Floyd, the next Breonna Taylor, the next Tamir Rice? How confident are you that your next use of force will be something you’re proud of? I’m writing this for you too: it’s wrong what our training did to us, it’s wrong that they hardened our hearts to our communities, and it’s wrong to pretend this is normal.

Look, I wouldn’t have been able to hear any of this for much of my life. You reading this now may not be able to hear this yet either. But do me this one favor: just think about it. Just turn it over in your mind for a couple minutes. “Yes, And” me for a minute. Look around you and think about the kind of world you want to live in. Is it one where an all-powerful stranger with a gun keeps you and your neighbors in line with the fear of death, or can you picture a world where, as a community, we embrace our most vulnerable, meet their needs, heal their wounds, honor their dignity, and make them family instead of desperate outsiders?

If you take only three things away from this essay, I hope the third is this: you and your community don’t need bastards to thrive.

RESOURCES TO YES-AND WITH

Achele Mbembe — Necropolitics

Angela Y. Davis — Are Prisons Obsolete?

CriticalResistance.org — Abolition Toolkit

Joe Macaré, Maya Schenwar, and Alana Yu-lan Price — Who Do You Serve, Who Do You Protect?

Ruth Wilson Gilmore — COVID-19, Decarceration, Abolition [video]

[rkived]

year 22 (m) — jjk

‘‘I knew you’d be standing in my front porch light, and I knew you’d come back to me.’‘ 

Pairing: childhoodfriend!jk x f!reader 

Genre/Tags: angst!!!, drama, a lil fluff, f2l, e2l-ish, pining, slow burn, smut

Rating: M +18

WC: 11.5k

Warnings: time jumps, underage drinking, jk being a douchebag for most of the fic, reader can’t catch a mf break, mention of character death ((no major one tho)). smut in the form of oral (f. receiving), fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex ((wrap it b4 u tap it y’all)), my being called pretty kink making a brief appearance soz

A/N: i listened to cardigan for the first time n had it on replay the whole time i wrote this so ig u should do it too ! this is my first time posting smut on here but who would i be if i didn’t throw in some good angst ? also tysm to @periminkle​ for being my unofficial beta reader n checking it up for me, she knows i’m constantly looking for her validation n i def wouldn’t post this if she didn’t love it ilu vira thx for being the best ever mwah !!! 

You’re five, cowering behind his mother’s legs, sniffing as tears stream down your face. In front of you both stands Jungkook, there’s remorse written all over his face as his mother stares him down with hands on her hips and a look that just screams that this is only the beginning of his punishment. 

‘’Apologize to Y/N right now Jungkook, or I’ll have your father have a word with you,’’ she threatens with a stern tone, making her son quickly shake his head no. ‘‘You need to learn how to share your toys.’’ 

You peek behind her lanky leg and find the slightly older kid looking at you with narrowed eyes, ‘‘I’m sorry, Y/N.’’ He apologizes with a bow, but he’s obviously displeased with the whole ordeal. 

His mother sighs and Jungkook pouts at the look on her face. She urges you to come out from your not-so-secret hiding spot and to go back to playing with him, even though you seriously doubt that will do any good to what just happened. 

Jungkook’s bedroom door is kept open as he sits back down on his city patterned carpet, you twiddle with your thumbs and stare at the Spiderman poster on his wall. There’s an awkward silence between you two until you feel a toy bump your crisscrossed legs. 

It’s the shiny red car he had refused to lend you before, provoking an argument between you two which eventually made you run out of his room in tears as you ratted him out to his mom. 

‘‘Wooow,’’ you whisper in awe, taking the car in your hands with so much care, treating it like it’s one of your newest dolls. 

Jungkook huffs, crossing his arms as he looks at you with distaste and he’s forced to settle with other boring toys as you giggle to yourself, making the car follow the carpet’s tracks. He learns then to never trust his mother again. If she ever says she’ll bring a new friend for him to play with again, he’ll refuse wholeheartedly.

He doesn’t like sharing his toys, and it’ll probably take him a long time to learn how to.

You’re nine as you hand Jungkook one of the multiple Valentine’s Day cards you carefully crafted the night before with your mother, adding all kinds of pretty stickers and shiny glitter to make each one of them unique. His is different from the rest, though. 

You added hearts to the dots in the I’s, there’s a hint of your favorite body splash enveloping the pink construction paper and it fills Jungkook’s nostrils with so much force that he feels he could gag at the smell. 

‘‘What do you think?’’ You ask the fourth-grader with a big smile on your face, cheeks tinted with a light shade of red as you see him reading the little message you wrote inside the card.

Jungkook lets out a mocking chuckle, ‘‘Are you serious? You like me?’’ He asks you, but it doesn’t look like he’s looking for answers. Your smile slowly fades away, looking at him with glossy eyes, ‘‘I don’t like you, you’re just a dumb little girl.’’ 

His card was the one you had invested the most time in and yet it only took him a second to crumple it with his hand, and another five for him to toss it into the trash can near you before he goes back to his group of friends in the school’s playground.

You learn how to hold your tears in then, thinking it’s a great accomplishment and that maybe now he’ll stop calling you a crybaby.

His friends receive him with high-fives and he smiles with gratefulness because they just saw how much of a badass he can be. Once recess is over and everyone’s going back to their classrooms, Jungkook nears the garbage bin where he had thrown the Valentine's card in, but finds it’s now dirty with yogurt someone tossed inside. 

He grimaces at the sight and sighs, there’s no way he can save it now.

You’re twelve and you’re the only girl in the treehouse who hasn’t gone through puberty yet. It wasn’t something that bothered you until just recently, when it became pretty evident why none of the boys would even give you a onceover compared to the other girls.

“I don’t know if I want to play,” you mumble after Kim Jihyo suggests playing spin the bottle. You’re the only one who opposes the idea, though you could count Jungkook in given as he just sat there without saying a word.

Park Yerim rolls her eyes, “You’re so boring, Y/N!” The comment makes the rest giggle as you pout at being the designated party pooper. 

It’s all fun and games of truth and dares to whoever the bottle lands on and you’ve been lucky enough to avoid the tip of the plastic Coca-Cola bottle to point at you, until it lands on Jungkook who has done a few funny dares so far.

“Alright, Jungkook, let’s make things even more fun!” Jihyo announces since she’s been the one who has assigned most of the embarrassing challenges and questions, “I dare you to kiss one of the girls here for ten seconds.” 

The dare makes the boys cheer with excitement and the girls gasp with anticipation, hoping one of them is the lucky chosen one. Your lips part slightly as you stare at him sitting across from you, he’s clearly not comfortable with the dare, but knowing him, he won’t express his current discomfort. 

His eyes land on you as you stare back at him with concern, hoping that he’ll speak up to avoid himself the embarrassment. Has he even kissed someone before? If this is his first kiss, you’ll witness it alongside everyone else and you can only imagine how terrifying that must be. Even though Jungkook’s always been a brave kid, you can always tell when he feels under pressure.

“Uhm, I’ll uh—“ Jungkook keeps staring at you and you feel your heart start to beat like you just ran the usual ten laps around the gym in P.E class. Are you about to have your first kiss? With him? 

You nod your head absentmindedly, a sign to let him know it’s okay for him to pick you from all the other developed girls who probably have more experience kissing than you do, but it’s okay because you’ve always been a quick learner. 

“Yeji,” Jungkook says after what feels like forever, though it’s only been a mere few seconds, “I’ll kiss Yeji.” He adds, removing his eyes from yours and settling them on the girl with the high ponytail and pink colored nails. 

You bite your bottom lip hard, breaking the dry skin as you feel yourself taste blood. It doesn’t matter because no one’s paying attention to you and instead they’re focused on Jungkook’s neverending kiss with Yeji. 

When you get home that night, you look at yourself in the mirror and frown at your lack of everything. Is this the reason as to why he hadn’t picked you? 

You’re fourteen and Kim Taehyung just sent you a message through MSN in which he confesses to have feelings for you. Your eyes widen, rereading the message several times, rubbing at your eyes just to make sure you’re seeing things correctly. 

You run off across the street to Jungkook’s house, ringing the doorbell quickly for someone to open up. You’re greeted by him looking at you with an annoyed expression, he had to pause his GTA game to come and open the door. 

“What do you want?” Jungkook asks harshly, crossing his arms as he stares into somewhere that’s not your face. He’s anxiously waiting for you to spit out whatever it is you’re there to say. 

You calm yourself down by breathing in deep and out, blowing the air right at him, “Does Taehyung like me?” You ask him, making Jungkook’s eyes widen in surprise and his brows to raise. 

His reaction tells you that you might’ve just discovered a secret you weren’t supposed to and it only makes your heart beat even faster because if it’s true, then this is a pleasant surprise. Kim Taehyung is one of the hottest boys in the tenth grade and he happens to be one of Jungkook’s closest friends. You think he must know something since you see them hanging out at lunch.

“Uh—I don’t know, Y/N.” Jungkook mumbles, rubbing at the back of his neck, finally looking at you and he feels a gut wrenching punch in his stomach at the sight. “Taehyung isn’t a really good guy, you shouldn’t—“ 

“What are you saying?” You interrupt him with a question, confused as to why Jungkook was painting a negative picture of his friend. “He was really sweet with what he said, he thinks my eyes are pretty when they sparkle — I didn’t even know they did that!” 

Jungkook grimaces and sighs, there’s really not much he can do here. You’ve always been so stubborn, so relentless. No matter how many times life tries to tell you something’s not meant for you, you challenge each and every one of it’s obstacles until you take what’s yours. 

“Okay, then what are you gonna do? Date him? You haven’t even had your first kiss yet.” Jungkook reminds you with a mocking tone and you furrow your brows together because, how does he know that? 

You stammer, “I-I have! I had it at camp last summer, actually!” That’s a lie, but he wasn’t there so he can’t prove the veracity of your statement. “And what do you care? So what if I want to date him?” You add with anger, not understanding why couldn’t he just support you in search of true love. 

The thought of dating Kim Taehyung had never crossed your mind, thinking he was way too out of your league for him to ever notice you. But that confession sitting in your MSN chat now served as a nice feeling of knowing you aren’t as invisible as you think you are. 

Jungkook scoffs, “Taehyung would never date you, okay? He’s older than you, he’s cool, he goes to parties and has kissed almost every girl in his grade, do you think he’d really like someone as boring as you?” He doesn’t mean to be so harsh, but you’re just so difficult and impossible to get through.

Jungkook’s used to the trembling bottom lip and the teary eyes that you give him everytime he says something that definitely strikes a nerve within you, but he’s always impressed on how you always refrain from crying in front of him. Last time you did that you were both kids and he probably took the last lollipop from your batch of collected halloween candy. 

“Screw you, Jungkook,” you say through gritted teeth, and if looks could kill, he’d be dead already. 

He looks at you quickly stomp your way back to your house, only heading back inside once you slam your front door shut. Jungkook enters his room to find two new messages in his MSN.

$$ kIm tAaEhyYyuNG $$: it worked! 

$$ kIm tAeEhyYyunGG $$: she fell for it xDxD where did u even come up with the sparkly eyes thing?? that’s gold bro rofl 

Jungkook sighs, ignoring the messages and shutting his computer down.

You’re sixteen and you’ve been invited to your first party. Granted, it was Jungkook’s, but he knew that if he didn’t ask you to come you’d probably tell on him with his mom. No matter what age he was, he’d always fear his mother’s scolding. 

“Drink this!” Park Jimin says with his beautiful smile and you’re starting to realize why they gave him that very same superlative on the school’s yearbook. You take the red solo cup without any second thought, placing the rim straight to your lips and choke once you feel the liquid burn your throat. 

“Ugh—What’s this?” You ask, cleaning the droplets of liquid around the corners of your mouth. 

He chuckles, “Fruit punch!” The liquid is indeed red like the familiar drink you’re used to, but there’s definitely something else mixed inside. “Oh, and vodka,” he adds with wiggly eyebrows as he shows off the small flask he was hiding in his sweatshirt’s front pocket.

You gasp and hand him the cup back, “No, I don’t drink alcohol, sorry.” Jimin rolls his eyes and it reminds you of the many times you’ve received this same reaction from your classmates before. Always a party pooper. He’s about to take the plastic red cup from you until you quickly drink the spiked punch in one go.

The boy howls in excitement, “Woo, go Y/N! Another one coming right up.” 

Jungkook knows he should be making sure everything’s alright downstairs. If his mother notices there’s at least one misplaced object, she’ll know right away something went down in her house while her husband and her were away for the weekend on an emergency trip to their hometown. Leaving him unsupervised only because they both believed their son was old enough to tend for himself.

But Jung Eunha had dragged him into his room with the excuse of wanting to see what it looked like, but the mini tour had turned into them kissing on his bed and Jungkook is thankful he changed his Spiderman sheets in exchange for some boring plain grey ones. Eunha smells like fresh mint and Jungkook is way into his head to focus on properly kissing her.

It’s not until his bedroom door is abruptly open, slamming against the wall that Jungkook literally jumps to his feet, making Eunha gasp as they both look at the person who has interrupted their awkward makeout session. 

“Guk-ah, what are you doin’?” You curiously wonder, a hiccup following right after which makes you giggle. Jungkook’s chest rises and falls with quickness as he notices you look different from the last time he saw you twenty minutes ago when you were talking to Jimin. “Guk-ah, were you—you kissin’ Eunha?” You ask once more after not receiving an answer to your previous question.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks in concern, coming closer to analyze your weird state. You stretch your arm out to avoid him from nearing you, making him falter in his place as he studies your expression. 

You hum, “Guk-ah, you busy. Sorry,” you apologize in a shy tone, ready to head back down and have more of that fruity alcohol punch you now found tasty, but you stumble and only avoid yourself from falling by holding onto Jungkook's door frame, he’s already reaching out by then. 

“Are you fucking serious, Y/N? Get out!” Eunha complains with irritation, getting up from the bed and ready to kick you out of his room, but his free arm stops her from getting near you. “Whu—?”

“Eunha, go back down. I’ll deal with her myself.” Jungkook says as calmly as he can, thinking three’s a crowd and dealing with you wasn’t an easy thing in of itself. She’s about to argue, but he interrupts her again, “Go down, now.” 

She rolls her eyes and bumps her shoulder against yours harshly once she steps out of his room, “Whatever, that kiss was shitty anyway.” 

He pretends he didn’t hear that and takes you in his arms instead, dragging you to lay on his bed as you cuddle into his favorite pillow and hug it close to your body. How much did you drink? Why did you even do it in the first place? Jungkook knows you’ve never tried alcohol before, which means he’ll be in big trouble if you show up back to your house like this. 

When you open your eyes hours later, your head hurts and it feels lightweight when you move it side to side. The room you’re in is familiar, that spiderman poster is still hung on the wall, but there are no more toys laying around the floor; they’ve probably been stored somewhere in his garage or sent off to a donation center under his mother’s demand.

The pillow that you’re hugging smells just like him and any other day you’d hold on to it tighter and inhale his scent like your life depended on it, but you abruptly sit on the bed as you’re reminded of how you got here. The action is not appreciated by your dizzy head, but you look around the room to notice how dark it is and there’s no more music playing downstairs. 

You quickly jump to the ground, only to hear a “Fuck, ouch!” from below, stepping on Jungkook’s leg unintentionally. It makes you gasp, looking down to notice the older friend laying on the cold floor, having gotten rid of that childhood carpet of his. His head’s laying on a makeshift pillow made out of a towel and he’s trying hard not to shiver. 

“I’m sorry, sorry, sorry!” You quickly apologize, stepping away from his figure as he soothes the shin of his leg you stepped on. “Jungkook, what happened?” 

He sighs, “Someone decided to drink like five cups of spiked punch knowing damn well it was their first time drinking alcohol, stepped into my room like a crazy person, and then crashed on my bed like they—What’s with the face?”

“Bathroom.”

Jungkook grimaces while he holds your hair back, you’re throwing away all the liquid you had taken with a few additional snacks you had munched on earlier, “Are you done?” He asks in a tired mumble and you shake your head no.

He feels guilty that you’re in this position. He didn’t even want to kiss Eunha, but she was one of the most popular girls in his grade and he knew that if he turned her down she would most likely put a bad word in with the rest of the girls and the guys would make fun of him for being such a wuss.

That would’ve been better, because after laying you down on his bed he had to go down and tell everyone that the party was over, putting an excuse that the neighbors had warned him and threatened to call the cops. They all cleared pretty quickly, but he knew he was going to be the butt of the jokes come Monday. He even had to call your parents to let them know you had gone home to a friend’s house for a sleepover, which he knew wasn’t totally believable, but it had somehow gotten them convinced that their daughter was alright because they trusted Jungkook to never hurt you ever. 

Once you feel like you’ve puked your stomach out, Jungkook hands you a pill accompanied with a glass of water and hands you clothes of his that might be more comfortable to sleep in. 

“Good night, Jungkook,” you whisper once you’re laying back on his bed, still hugging the pillow he preferred to sleep with. He makes a sacrifice to make it up to you. 

His back is going to hurt by the time the sun comes out in a few hours, but it’s okay if it means you’ll sleep comfortably after the events of tonight. “Good night, Y/N.” 

He’s unable to sleep, but finds entertainment in your hanging hand beside his bed. The skin on your palm looks soft and there’s this strange urge inside of him that makes him want to grab your hand in his, but he refrains. 

To calm the current chaos in his head, Jungkook finds peace in the light snores coming from his bed.

You’re just about to turn eighteen and your date to the prom is Jeong Jaehyun, who had only asked you out a day before the event because the girl he had initially wanted to take had been asked and he didn’t have a plan B. 

Jaehyun is okay, at least he managed to get you a corsage that matched the color of your dress. He even smiles in the pictures your parents take of you both as you awkwardly try to look comfortable with his arms around you even though by then you had only exchanged a few sentences. 

The prom’s theme is Summer Nights and you think it’s fitting considering this is the very last event before the graduation ceremony, meaning that you’d most likely never see most of these people ever again. You had purposely applied to a college that was outside of your hometown for that same reason. You’re ready to live the life you’ve always wanted to live, without anyone judging or knowing you. 

Your date spends most of the night talking with his group of friends as you’re left alone on your table, looking at your well manicured nails. You knew you weren’t going to get the same prom experience the high school kids on T.V enjoyed, but you at least hoped it would’ve been a little more fun than this.

A tap on your shoulder makes you turn around to see Jungkook trying to loosen the tight tie around his neck. He looks incredibly handsome and you suppose his mother helped him pick the suit out, Jungkook rarely ever wore fitted clothing, so this is one of those once in a lifetime moments..

“Hey you,” you say and he gives you half a smile, wondering why you’re sitting by yourself at an empty table when everyone else was either mingling or dancing. “Where’s your date?” You ask with curiosity, you’re surprised that Jinsoul isn’t trailing alongside him given how she had behaved for the past week ever since he asked her to come with him. 

“Retouching her face or something,” he answers casually, “what are you doing sitting here? Where’s Jaehyun?” Jungkook asks.

You shrug your shoulders, “Don’t know, probably talking with the guys of the basketball team. He’s been gone for a while.” Not like you care, anyway. If your conversation with him inside his car on the way to the venue had been any indication of what it would’ve been like for the rest of the night, you’re glad he's not here trying to make any more small talk with you.

Jungkook huffs, thinking he’ll kick his ass if he sees him. He had asked him to invite you so you wouldn’t come alone, and yet here you are, sitting all by yourself while the douchebag’s making a social life somewhere in the crowd. He calms down once he notices how unbothered you are by it, though. You’re a big girl now, you’ve been through too much to be affected by something as simple as this.

“Is there something you wan—“

“Dance!” You interrupt with excitement and Jungkook chuckles.

“I was gonna ask if you wanted something to drink, but—alright, let’s dance.” Jungkook can’t dance for shit, but you took lessons when you were younger and he can still remember how you’d always show him the routines you learned in class. He’d always boo you, but in reality you were pretty good. He wonders why you stopped, he doesn’t recall you ever telling him.

It’s just his luck that once you both step into the dancefloor, the hired DJ stops the up-tempo song playing before and switches to a much slower romantic one, “Alright everyone, I want all the couples on the dancefloor for this one.” 

You step away from him with nervousness, it’s couples only after all. But Jungkook holds onto your lower back firmly, pulling you closer into his space. Your eyebrows raise as your lips part, “Uh, s-should we, uh—?” 

“It’s just a song, Y/N. You wanted to dance, then we’ll dance.” He tells you with such confidence it makes you feel like this is totally normal and something all friends do. All the known High School couples are dancing together, heads tenderly placed over chests and chins resting lovingly above them. You wait for Jungkook to take the lead because you have no clue of what you should be doing, you might’ve taken dance lessons years ago but you’ve never slowed danced in your life. 

Jungkook places his hand on your hip, the touch makes goosebumps crawl in your arms. He pretends he doesn’t notice it as he takes your right hand in his. You stare at the way he delicately holds it like it’s his mother’s fine china. “Place your other hand on my shoulder,” he instructs and you do as asked, your palm coming to rest on the strong muscle. 

He’s only slowed danced once before at a family member’s wedding where his mother taught him how to, with her as the teacher. Back then he thought it was incredibly ridiculous, but now he’s sort of glad that happened because he’s the teacher now and you’re now looking at him with your big eyes as you sway alongside him. 

You clear your throat, “This isn’t that hard.” Jungkook nods as he stares down at you, noticing how uneasy you are given that you’re looking at everything and not entirely immersed in the moment.

“You look beautiful tonight.” He says out of nowhere, making you look at him like a deer stuck in headlights, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He had never called you that before. 

An awkward laugh escapes your lips, looking away from his intense gaze as you try not to take his words too literally, “Ha ha, that was a good one.” To you there’s no other explanation than this being one of his mean pranks on you.

But Jungkook doesn’t falter both his words and gaze, “I’m not laughing.” There’s seriousness in his voice and you have to look back at him again just to make sure he really isn’t, “You look beautiful, just take the compliment.” You nod and there’s silence between you two after that. You’re digesting the romantic lyrics that the singer is talking about and hope that the song ends soon, because you’ve never been this close to him and it’s starting to feel too crowded.

You clear your throat, “So…” 

“So…,” he repeats. 

“What are you doing for summer?” You ask him in an attempt to break the tension and wanting to take advantage of the little intimate moment since Jungkook rarely ever lets you pry into his private life. 

“I think I’ll train before heading off,” he answers. It was more than obvious he was going to earn that sports scholarship he had been aiming for, he was one of the best athletes on the school; though you considered him to be the number one between them all. “I’m kinda scared, not gonna lie.” 

You look at him with surprise, tilting your head to the side, “You’re scared?” You ask in disbelief because as long as you’ve known him, he’s never been scared of anything. This is the same kid who instilled your fear of monsters in a closet after watching Monster’s Inc. together, also the same kid who helped you get over it after he realized you had actually taken it seriously.

He chuckles lightly, “Yeah, I’m just scared about starting over.” It’s interesting how his biggest fear is the one you’re looking forward to the most, but you suppose it’s fitting for someone who has never had to worry about what people think of him. In this town, Jungkook has swam freely without any concerns. Out there, he’s just another fish in the big and scary ocean. “Aren’t you?” He questions, hoping that you’re able to relate to what he’s feeling. 

“Honestly, I—“ 

You’re interrupted by Jaehyun clearing his voice in front of you two, making you both turn your heads towards his direction. You quickly separate from Jungkook and he feels his body lose the warmness you were providing. 

“If you wanted to dance, you could’ve just asked. I’m your date after all.” He says smugly and you chuckle awkwardly, nodding because he’s right. 

Jungkook wants to punch his stupid face, how dare he interrupt you both when he had been ignoring you the whole night? Why does he suddenly want to dance with you when he’s probably still upset at him for asking Jinsoul to the prom before he could?

“Your date’s looking for you, buddy. She doesn’t look too happy.” Jaehyun adds with a smirk as he takes your hand in his and drags you away from Jungkook towards another place on the dancefloor. 

He’s left to stare at the way he holds your hand, and he only hopes he’s doing it ever so carefully. 

You’re twenty when Jungkook sees you for the first time since you both left for college two and half a years ago. He’s rendered speechless when he spots you in the crowd, there’s a manly hand around your waist as you giggle into the stranger’s mouth before placing a kiss to his lips. 

There’s only so much social media can provide him, pictures and stories aren’t enough for Jungkook to keep up with you. He thinks you’ve changed, not only appearance wise but you seem way more outgoing, carefree, and happy. Did he miss the boyfriend announcement picture? He’s sure he didn’t, he checks your profile almost every day and he’s never even seen him in any of your stories. 

A gasp escapes your lips once you spot him, completely forgetting about the possibility of bumping into him given that both your schools were playing against each other that night. You tell Namjoon you’ll be right back and he nods, going back to a conversation with the group of college friends you had made. 

You surprise him by jumping into him, arms around his shoulders as you hug him from behind. You let out a shrill of excitement and he blushes as his friends chuckle at the unexpected approach from this unfamiliar girl. 

‘‘Jungkook! You didn’t tell me you’d be here,’’ you say once he turns around to face you and he’s able to see you better upfront. You look beautiful and he thinks the Instagram pictures are not doing you enough justice. You’re glowing, and it has nothing to do with the highlighter you applied on your face and collarbone area. 

The both of you aren’t able to properly talk until you suggest moving to a different area, Jungkook apologizing to his friends as he explained he needed to catch up with an old friend. They don’t complain and instead shoot him teasing looks and small pervy comments that go by unnoticed to you. 

Jungkook listens with intent to your ramble about what you’ve been up to. From your courses, to your roommates, the parties you’ve attended, and even the fact that you handle your alcohol better now. He’s happy that you seem so too, but it irks him that you hadn’t been capable of telling him that you had a boyfriend now. Is there a reason as to why you omitted that important piece of information? 

‘‘And what about you? How’s college?’’ You ask with curiosity. 

He blinks a few times, realizing you had stopped talking about yourself and was now wondering about him instead. ‘‘It’s fine,’’ he answers with a tight lipped smile, the lack of detail compared to you was astonishing, but even though you were still hungry for more you decided not to pry any further. 

There’s fear in revealing that he’s been having a hard time catching up with the rest of his peers. College was indeed fine, but it could be better. He’s settled with the idea that this is as good at it’ll get, some things just aren’t like you expect them to be. At least you’re happy, and that fact brings him comfort. 

‘‘Was that your, uhm─boyfriend?’’ He finally asks after a while, both about to head back to your respective group of friends. 

The question takes you by surprise, looking at him with raised eyebrows and mouth agape. ‘‘Who? Namjoon?’’ He nods, though he doesn’t know anything about the guy he had first seen you with. You let out a wholehearted laugh, ‘‘Hell no, too many commitment issues with that one,’’ you answer and Jungkook’s forehead creases with confusion. 

Why were you kissing him then? 

‘‘We’re friends with benefits,’’ you inform him as if you had read his mind. ‘‘He’s a nice guy, though. Also, super smart, he’s helped me with a few of my─’’ 

‘‘You’re not a virgin anymore?’’ He abruptly asks, disbelief in his tone as he internally screams to himself for thinking out loud. Jungkook expects you to berate him about such an imprudent question, but is surprised when he sees you giggling. 

‘‘Duh, silly. I think I lost it freshman year?’’ The carelessness in your voice makes him look at you like you’ve gone crazy. Why are you so lax about this? Why are you telling him about losing your virginity without a care in the world? ‘‘Anyway, are you going to be home for the─’’

Jungkook interrupts you once again, ‘‘Was it with your boyfriend at the time?’’ He asks in genuine curiosity and you sigh, rolling your eyes slightly at him. 

‘‘No, it was some random dude at this party I went to. Could you please─’’

‘‘Y/N, are you insane? Why would you give up your virginity to some fucking stranger like it’s nothing?’’ Jungkook’s voice raises as he scolds you about being so negligent about yourself, ‘‘You can’t do shit like that!’’ He fumed, making you let out a breathless chuckle. 

‘‘Could you stop treating me like a fucking child for once in your life? I’m perfectly fine, Jungkook. I’ve been doing pretty well for myself without you here, actually. I don’t know why you think you have a say on what I do, is it the entitlement you have of me that you still carry around because we grew up together? Because if that’s it then you can drop it, I let go of my little girl who wanted a friend and was treated like pure shit in return complex a long time ago.’’ 

He knows you’re right, but he thinks he’ll always have this odd sense of protection over the five year old girl who cried to his mom about not lending her his favorite toy. He’ll always want to apologize to the eight year old girl who declared her love for him with a Valentine’s Day card while he ended up breaking her heart in exchange. He’ll always wish to look for help within the twelve year old girl who witnessed him give out his first kiss to another girl who he didn’t even like. He’ll always feel guilty towards the sixteen year old girl who had gotten tipsy on a spiked fruit punch and crashed on his bed. He’ll always hate himself for not asking the seventeen going on eighteen year old girl to prom when he knew he could’ve, but chose not to in fear of ruining your friendship. 

You only wanted someone to be there for you growing up and Jungkook had never been the brave boy you thought he was, always running from his fears in hopes he’d have a wide advantage margin from them. Yet here they are, standing right in front of him in the form of a twenty year old you, and they’re there to let him know that you’ve never needed him, yet he’s always needed you.

He can’t even apologize, he only looks at you with wide eyes as he fidgets in his place. Either you’re both too old now to understand each other or you just realized that you’ve outgrown Jungkook. 

Your mouth set in a hard line as you crossed your arms, the night’s breeze feeling colder than usual. ‘‘I miss you Jungkook, but I can’t keep playing this cat and mouse game with you any longer.’’ 

You leave him behind to go back to Namjoon’s arms, seeking refuge in his sweet embrace as you try your hardest to put on practice what you learned all those years ago when Jungkook broke your heart for the first time, you should be used to it by now.

You’re twenty-one when you’re back in your hometown to attend the funeral of the old lady down the street, the one that always scolded you and Jungkook growing up. 

You had been scared of her as a child, but always following along your friend’s footsteps when he proposed playing around her garden. It tugs at your heartstrings even if you hadn’t known the woman well. Her death was imminent seeing as she’d been ill for quite some time. 

A taller figure stands next to you as you both stand way in the back of the ceremony. He looks tired and you figure that it’s because of the fact he arrived late into the night, you heard his car’s engine from your bedroom window. Dressing in all black, you notice he bought a new suit. You’re sure that the one he wore for prom no longer fits considering he’s bigger now. 

You haven’t talked to each other since last year when you both left off on a sour note. The hurt you felt was no longer present, though. You chewed on your bottom lip as you thought of a way you could talk to him again without making things awkward, but you let out a small gasp once he placed his arm around your shoulders, giving it a small squeeze as he sighed and kept his focus on the service. 

Watching the casket be lowered into the ground felt weird. She was a human being just like you, but her existence was a reminder of your childhood. Would it be okay to say that her death meant a part of you leaving with her too? 

Once it hits you, it’s Jungkook who consoles you by hugging you tight. Your eyes are too blurry with tears for you to realize this is one of those rare moments where he’s holding you close without hesitation. He lets you ruin his tuxedo’s jacket with your mascara covered tears as he brushes your hair as a sign of comfort. 

You know things are back in order when he proposes the idea to go back to the old lady’s porch, for old times sake. ‘‘Will we ever let her rest?’’ You ask him with a small laugh as Jungkook sits on the doorsteps of the old lady’s empty home, opening the bag of candy worms he bought at the grocery store. 

He shrugs, ‘‘She loved us, always told my mom how much she missed us running around the street.’’ The revelation makes you smile, hoping it was true. He pats the empty space next to him, indicating for you to fill it up with your presence. Once you do, you feel the familiar warmth of his proximity. 

Jungkook seems different and you only hope he’s changed for the best. 

‘‘When are you going back?’’ You ask him with curiosity, hoping that he’ll be in town for a few more days so you can catch up with him on a better note this time around. 

He munches on one of the snacks, ‘‘Tomorrow morning, I have training camp and can’t miss it.’’ His answer makes you sigh with disappointment, but you nod nonetheless. ‘‘What about you?’’ He asks in return, and you inform him that you’ll stay for a few more days to spend time with your family. There’s silence after that and Jungkook can only offer you the gummy worms in the bag, you take one with a small thanks.  

‘‘College fucking sucks,’’ he says out of nowhere and it makes you look at him in bewilderement, ‘‘I hate it there, I wanna drop out so bad. But I’m a year away from graduating so it’s too late now.’’ You see his shoulders visibly relax, like a weight had been lifted off them. ‘‘Plus my mom would kill me if I do so,’’ he adds with a chuckle. 

Last time you asked everything was fine. Had things changed or had they always been this way and he was just now being honest with you?

You rest your head on his shoulder and focus all of your undivided attention on him as he keeps rambling about what his life has been ever since he left this town. He’s had bad games, bad grades, and bad girls. But he’s also had incredible games, good grades, and a couple great hookups, and yet he still feels empty, it’s not enough. 

‘‘I miss you,’’ he mumbles as he faces you, ‘‘I’m sorry for being such a shitty friend, you deserved better.’’ His apology is genuine and you can feel it in the way his voice trembles, sincerity has always scared him after all. 

Jungkook’s never known when the time is right, and he misjudges the look on your face. When he leans down to press his lips against yours, he’s blinded for a mere moment into believing that you wanted to kiss him just as much as he had been waiting. 

You abruptly separate from him with wide eyes and parted lips, ‘‘Jungkook, I’m─I’m dating Namjoon now.’’ He can physically feel his heart shatter, the revelation coming out like an old newspaper headline he should’ve read a long time ago. 

He lets out a breathless chuckle, ‘‘He got over the commitment issues?’’ The rhetorical question is bitter. 

You scoff, ‘‘And what about it? I preferred to wait than to rush into getting my heart broken.’’ Plus it’s not like you were expecting Namjoon to grow feelings for you, the whole no strings attached arrangement was named that way for a reason. 

Jungkook looks at you with narrowed eyes and he shakes his head sightly. Old habits never die down, still so stubborn and challenging as ever. 

He’s startled as you stand abruptly, fuming as you look at him, ‘‘I don’t even know why you care! Did you forget that you threw my Valentine’s Day card into the trash? Or that you kissed Yeji in front of my face? Or that you let Taehyung date me as prank between your friends? Or that you were making out with Eunha while Jimin kept giving me alcohol? Or that you asked Jaehyun to take me to the stupid prom even though I was perfectly fine going without him or anyone for that matter?’’

‘‘We were just kids!’’ Jungkook argues back at you.

‘‘It still fucking hurt,’’ you counter, ‘‘still hurts, actually. You think that by giving me a measly apology and kissing it better I’ll suddenly forget about all of it?’’ Jungkook knows it won’t ever make up for all those years, but he had at least hoped you’d be willing to give him a chance. 

He wishes he could say something else. Explain that he had just tried to protect you in his own shitty way from everyone else or himself maybe, he doesn’t know anymore. He wants to speak up again, but there’s disappointment written all over your face, you’re not angry at him...just saddened. 

‘‘Hope you have fun at your training camp.’’

Jungkook watches as you leave him sitting by himself on the old lady’s doorstep. A hand runs through his hair as he feels his eyes water, and he can almost hear a whisper in the wind that asks him why he didn’t stop you when he could’ve. 

Jungkook didn’t think that his family coming together with yours for Christmas dinner would’ve been a great idea. You’re cold to him at first and it’s fitting for the winter weather, but as always it only takes for him to sit next to you for things to warm up again. 

It’s with the excuse that you’ll run over to your house to grab a new bottle of wine from the kitchen counter that Jungkook trails behind you, both slightly tipsy on the different alcohols your families had offered each other. 

Years have passed since he last stepped foot inside your home, you used to visit him more often than he did anyway. It still smells and looks the same; the only difference is that there’s new pictures of you hung up on the walls, updated accordingly to the changes you’ve made ever since you left off for college.

You’re sporting a big smile in all of them, which in exchange makes him copy the action as well. His lack of presence in your life has done you better than compared to when he was around, and if that’s the case, then at least he did something right. 

There hasn’t been much said since the beginning of the night, just a simple hey out of courtesy. There’s so much he wants to say, but with no clue where to begin. Another apology is due, though he thinks it’s a little too late for that. He also wants to ask about what you’ve been up to since he last saw you, are you still dating the Namjoon guy you had told him about after he kissed you? If he’s still there, Jungkook rather keep quiet and not wonder out loud to you, he’s sure that it’ll hurt if it’s true. 

Growing up Jungkook always mistook your bravery with stubbornness and your courage with relentlessness. You’ve always been challenging, but only because you wanted him to do so too. It’s moments like this that prove him that you’ve always been the stronger between the two.

‘‘So, we’re just gonna pretend like nothing’s wrong between us?’’ You ask, speaking directly to him for the first time that night. It makes him look at you like a deer stuck in headlights, surprised by the sudden question and out of all the years of knowing each other, he feels small under your gaze for once. ‘‘How much time is it going to pass until you want to finally talk things like adults?’’ 

Jungkook gulps the lump in his throat, his brain quickly thinking of the right thing to say, ‘‘I just wanted to protect you from─’’

‘‘From what? From you? Everytime you’ve done that I end up getting hurt in the end. I’m left to pick the pieces up by myself,’’ you interject with anger in your voice. ‘‘It fucking pisses me off that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you kissing me, I haven’t stopped thinking about you and─’’ A sigh, you close your eyes to center yourself again as Jungkook waits for the final blow, ‘‘and you look like none of this has ever bothered you in the slightest because, you don’t really care about me do you?’’

‘‘I do care about you.’’ He’s sure about it, even though he’s been extremely bad at showing it. 

Even though your eyes are threatening to spill tears, you still muster up the last bit of what’s left of your courage to step closer to him until you’re a few inches away. ‘‘Prove it, then. Show me that you care.’’ 

His brain is sent into quick overdrive due to your close proximity. There’s a slight hesitation because he only hopes that what he’s about to do is what you’re demanding him to prove. He doesn’t care if you’re still dating the Namjoon guy because he’s settled with the idea that it’s okay if you don’t correspond, it’s not like he did the same to you when you were both younger. 

Once his lips press against yours, there’s no turning back. He’s waiting for you to push him back and let him know that your heart’s still taken, but you kiss him with such fervor that he knows in that moment that you’re right, it’s better to wait than to rush right in. 

It’s no fairytale kiss, though. There’s desperation in the way you chase his lips, as if you were to slow down he’d find a way to escape from you. You grip the cotton material of his crewneck into your small fists, holding on to the fabric like your life depended on it. The small kiss you had both shared last year was nothing compared to this, and Jungkook’s taken aback by your neediness. 

He doesn’t know how you manage to drag him to your childhood bedroom without missing a beat, only separating once you both realize you need to catch your breaths, and even then Jungkook can’t have a minute to take just happened in because your lips attach to his neck to get more of a taste. His fingers curled around your arm, sighing at the way your kisses felt like electricity on his skin. 

‘‘Y/N,’’ he calls your name out in a breathy tone, but you’re too immersed in your little bubble to even realize it. 

Jungkook groans when you bite into the skin of his neck, then blowing over the red mark as you kissed it better. It’s going to be bruise and he doesn’t like when that happens, but he’s not bothered at all if it comes from you. He forcibly grabs your chin so you can face him, looking at him with big eyes, a small pout, and with your chin messed with drool. 

It’s then that Jungkook kisses you hungrily, making you feel like you’re in a dream-like state,  though you could partially blame the Christmas eggnog for that. The way he bites at your lips and how your tongues clash together is an extreme juxtaposition as to how you could describe this moment. It’s as if you’re floating on air, clouds surrounding you in a heavenly embrace, angels singing in the background every time his hands touch, grab, hold and caress every part of your body. And yet, even with such a difference, it’s perfect because it’s Jungkook. You’ve been waiting for this too long, which is why your hands creep beneath his crewneck, touching his tonified abdomen tentatively and enjoying the way goosebumps arise on his skin at the sensation of your fingers trailing patterns wherever they caress.  

It’s only fair that he pays attention to yours as well. Jungkook’s lips trail from your mouth onto your jawline, planting wet kisses on each space until he begins sucking on the skin of your neck, making you moan in the process. He chooses then that his new favorite sound is the way you voice out the pleasure he gives you. ‘‘Hurry up,’’ you say, ridding the bottom of the crewneck higher over his stomach, making him shiver at the sudden change of temperature. 

Jungkook chuckles before completely getting rid of the material, ‘‘Calm down,’’ he sighs as he gives you a sweet smile, ‘‘You know our moms could talk forever.’’ 

You ogle his chest, admiring the way his training camps have obviously done wonders to his body. ‘‘It’s not them I’m talking about,’’ you correct him with a teasing smile that only makes his grin grow wider, chuckling at your impatience. Jungkook lets out a small gasp of surprise when your hands grasp at his shoulder blades, turning him around so you can back him until the back of his knees hit the edge of your bed. It’s funny how he lets himself be bossed around by someone who’s way smaller compared to his frame.

Jungkook finds leverage on his elbows splayed against the mattress, your knees resting on each side of his hips as you leaned into him and kissing him just as widely as you had done before. Jungkook could fill just how quick things were escalating, especially the way his crotch area was beginning to become a problem he couldn’t possibly control at the moment, not with your own being directly on top of it. In any other situation he would’ve apologized with an awkward laugh, but his breath hitches once your hips start grinding over him.  

His hands make their way on the inside of your knitted sweater, provoking goosebumps on the exposed skin. You let out a shaky laugh, halting your movements so you can quickly get rid of the fabric as Jungkook’s eyebrows lift in surprise at your haste and then at the sight of your bra covered breasts. His hands are still steadily placed on each side of your waist, only brought up because your own had redirected them over your breasts, hoping he gets the message on what you want him to do now.   

Jungkook hesitantly squeezed one of the round globes, provoking a small moan to come from out of your lips. He wishes to hold you as close as he possibly can because the idea of ever being away from you again has been his main fear as of lately. But he refrains, you look so delicate and he feels like you could easily break. He stares at your body lovingly and your cheeks heat up at the way his eyes ogle your chest like a kid in a candy story. You give his arm a light slap and he chuckles, leaning over you to place a passionate kiss on your lips.

“You’re beautiful,” he says frankly. It doesn’t help to dissipate the flush on your face, but the compliment doesn’t bother you in the slightest. Jungkook leans in to trail kisses past your collarbones and into the swell of your breasts, making you bite your lip with anticipation. He looks at you asking for permission and you nod quickly with parted lips as you start to become impatient for him to make his next move. Jungkook lowers the cups of your breasts, freeing your hardened nipples and immediately envelopes one of them with his lips. “Mph—!” A sigh escapes your lips as you try to memorize the way his tongue traces over your tit. He pays attention to your other one, fingers rolling over the bud and pinching ever so often. 

You can feel your panties damp by then, trespassing into the fabric of the black leggings you’re wearing over them. Reaching behind your back, you fumble in unclasping the hooks of the now uncomfortable bra. Jungkook’s forced to stop the undivided attention he had places on your breasts to look at you like he’s lost, why are you going so fast? 

Once your hands delve with the buckle of his belt, he has to hold on to your wrists with a firm grasp, ‘‘What are you doing?’’ He asks with quick breath, you blink stoically towards him. 

‘‘Uh─getting you naked?’’ You answer with a nonchalant tone, but his hands don’t let go and your demeanor changes, ‘‘D-Did you not want this?’’ Your voice turns smaller, embarrassed that maybe you had pressured him into something he didn’t want to participate in. 

Jungkook quickly shakes his head no, ‘‘No, I-I do want this! It’s just─you’re going so fast,’’ he tries to explain, ‘‘I’ve been waiting for this for too long, I don’t wanna rush.’’ Your eyes lit up at the revelation as he waits for you to answer back, only for his back to hit the comforter with a small thud, giggling at the way you urgently kiss him again, but this time with much more care. 

‘‘Why didn’t you say so before, stupid?’’ You mumble with a sheepish look, ‘‘I thought it was just going to be─nevermind, I need you right now.’’ You have to force yourself from spitting out any details that could possibly ruin the moment between you two, deciding to wait instead for any emotional confessions you want to make. 

He switches positions between the two, panting as he brings you down to the mattress and Jungkook can feel the goosebumps on your skin, whether from the coldness of the room or because of the sheer electricity of his hands caressing your body like it was molded just right for him. He dips his hand lower, cupping your clothed heat on his hand. It makes you tremble and you whine, encouraging him to keep going. 

“Baby, you’re really wet,” he comments with a teasing tone and you pout at him. His fingers hook into the waistband of your leggings and he pulls them down as he travels with them, greeted by the sight of the damp cloth of your panties. He exhales with content, caressing your thighs in an up and down motion. You twist underneath him and he has to hold your hips down to calm you down, “Patience is a virtue.” 

“I’ve been too patient, do some—Ah!” Your whining is interrupted once Jungkook moves your underwear to the side holding it with his free hand, fingers coming to trace the slick covering your pussy lips. He becomes entranced with the transparent gooey liquid, bringing them close to his face as he separates his fingers and sees a strand connecting between them. “Guk-ah, p-please…” Your needy voice brings him back to reality, delving his fingers back into your exposed heat but this time with intent. 

Jungkook’s thumb lifts the hood covering your clit, mouth coming down to give it a small tentative kiss. That action alone has you writhing above him, it makes him chuckle to himself as he dives back in. The moans you let out are loud and clear inside your bedroom, thankful that it’s only you and him inside your house. Your hand pulls at his hair, making him groan against you and the vibrations are felt throughout your body, only adding to the euphoric pleasure you already possess. His fingers trace the inside of your thighs until they reach your entrance, circling the fluttering hole which makes you pull at his hair harder and with your other you hold on to the bedsheets of the comforter tightly into your fist. 

Jungkook’s tongue is still working your engorged bud, but he focuses his eyes on you as he dips the first finger inside you. “Oh—fuck,” you let out in a breathy moan. He tries to maintain a rhythm between his two ministrations, but it’s hard when he wants to focus on all of them at once. “‘Nother, please,” you begged once he let your clit rest, quickly following your request by adding another into your warm heat. He lets out a breathless chuckle as he notices how easy it is to thrust both fingers inside of you, your whole crotch area is covered in slick and his wet chin is a dead giveaway to where he was seconds ago. 

He watches you unravel over him with such adoration, not even his wettest dreams or dirtiest fantasies could prepare him for this. Seven minutes in heaven he plans to stay in forever. “Guk-ah, I wan’ you. I-Inside, please.” You plead with teary eyes, and he slowly stops, removing his arousal covered fingers from inside you as he makes you sigh in the process. He kisses you again and again, your hazy brain is probably hallucinating all of this right now, but damn is it good. You tug at the crewneck he’s wearing, he’s too overdressed for this occasion. He tends to your demands, quickly getting rid of all the layers of clothing that stop him from being inside of you fully. 

“I don’t have a—“ 

“I’m on the pill.”

You both speak at the same time, making each other chuckle. Jungkook gulps at the idea of taking you raw as the first time together, and you salivate at his hardened length; the head already oozing precum out and you want nothing more than to wrap your lips around it and lick the tip up. You’re just about to when Jungkook quickly grabs your wrist to stop you from reaching him, you look up at him with the big sparkly eyes he has loved for too long. 

“I just—I wanna be inside you right now,” he sheepishly admits, and you smile with a nod; sharing the sentiment. You back up until your head rests on the pillows comfortably, relaxing into the mattress as you wait for Jungkook to ready himself. He places a kiss on your lips before placing a hand next to your head, using it as leverage above you. His free hand takes his cock and rubs the tip along your folds, making you squirm with anticipation. Jungkook chuckles, “Are you ready?” He asks with a sweet smile. 

“I’ve always been,” you whisper, your hand tucking a strand of his long hair behind his ear. 

A caress to his cheek as he nods, slowly pushing the head of his dick into you. You bite into your lip hard, it’s been a while since you had sex with someone and Jungkook’s size and girth was different from the rest. Your walls are tight around him and he has a tough time trying to reach the hilt with you squeezing him so hard, “Baby, relax for me.” He pleads and you nod apologetically, breathing in deep as you feel him reach parts inside of you, you didn’t know existed. Once he’s all the way in, he waits for you to give him the go ahead while he presses kisses into your heated cheek. You wrap your legs around his waist and give him a nod, letting him know he was allowed to start thrusting.

Jungkook manages to hit all the right places, keeping a steady pace as he enters and exits you each time. You’re left to moan and writhe underneath him, letting him take you as he pleases. Your kisses become messy, teeth biting into each other’s lips, teeth grazing against each other as you both tried to fight for the dominant position. It’s that heavy makeout that incites you to push at his shoulders, making him turn in his back, exiting you in the process. Jungkook pants, chest rising and falling with quickness as you straddle his lap, arms connecting behind his neck. 

“You always want to win, right?” He chuckles with half lidded eyes, enjoying the way your pussy lips grinded over his twitching length. You bat your eyelashes at him, offering him an innocent smile. The same technique that used to get you everything you wanted when you were younger. Same determination as you seek for what’s yours. He’s under you after all, still a victim to your charms.

Jungkook takes the bulbous head of his cock and teases it in your clit, if you weren’t holding on to him tight you would’ve collapsed into his chest. And by the way you moan his name out, he knows you’ll always look for him no matter the weather. “What a pretty girl,” he coos into your hair and you pinch his nipple in retaliation which only makes him groan in return. “My pretty girl.” He states before sinking himself deep into you again, sighing at the feeling of your hips circling over him. His rough hands guide them as you bounce up and down his length, moaning every time you rose and hissing when you came back down. 

He makes sure to keep this image engraved on his head forever. Your breasts bouncing over his face, your thighs working extra hard to keep up with his thrusts, and the way your sounds bounced off the walls of your bedroom. 

“You’re doing s-so good, baby.” Jungkook praises you, kneading your ass cheek. “Taking my cock s-so well,” he falls into a trance of admiring the way his length would appear and disappear inside of you, covered in a thick layer of your arousal. It makes him drill into you faster, sitting properly against the bed’s headboard as he takes your hips with force. He’s too turned on to keep treating you so delicately, and the way you moan and pant at the increase in speed only lets him know you enjoy him like this way more. “I-Is it good, baby? Am I-I fucking you well?” He asks in between rapid thrusts, your thighs had given out by then. 

You nod and a whimper escapes your lips, “Y-yes, Guk-Ah. S-so good, feels amazing.” Your praise is honest, the fucked out tone in your voice is a clear indicator of how well of a job he was doing. A minute longer and you’ll be right on cloud nine, never wanting to come back down. “Wanna cum Guk-Ah, plea—“ There’s no need for you to even finish your sentence because his thumb rubs your clit in figure eights, making you groan with the intensified feeling of his hips circling inside you deliciously. You can almost see the blinding white light ahead as Jungkook kisses you feverishly. You feel tears escape the corners of your high, the familiar feeling tickling inside you as Jungkook’s thrusts don’t let up. ‘‘Ah! Yes, yes, fuck,’’ you cry out once your orgasm hits. Jungkook holds you close to his chest, trying to soothe your shaking body with his arms. Your walls squeeze and relax continuously around him, it serves him as the impulse he needs to chase his own high. 

‘‘I love you, Jungkook,’’ you confess in between panting breaths, ‘‘so much.’’ 

His release shoots out and he groans, digging crescent moons into your hips. You hiss at the sensation, but giggle at how his eyes are screwed shut and brows still furrowed together, as if he was holding on to the last of his orgasm. In reality, Jungkook is just hoping that once he opens his eyes you’ll still be in his arms. Your fingers tilting his head to face you are very much real, he sees spots once he opens his eyes as they adjust to the room’s lighting. 

‘‘I love you too.’’ He says with a fixed gaze and you coo at how perfect this is.

You’re twenty-two when Jungkook’s finally yours.

You’re both twenty-three and it’s another weekend spent at his apartment, he’s been playing for three hours now and you’ve given up on having him pay attention to you. Deciding to switch your plan around and join him instead, if only he would let you play.

‘‘Jungkook, you said it was going to be my turn five rounds ago!’’ You complain with a pout, crossing your arms across your chest. 

His gaze is still stuck on the T.V screen, ‘‘Baby, shhh, you’re gonna make me lose.’’ He mumbles as he tries to remain concentrated on the game in hand, but he can hear your humph’s from behind him, ‘‘Patience is a─’’

‘‘Virtue, yeah, who cares.’’ You interrupt him with a roll of your eyes, familiar with the saying a little too well. ‘‘Hope you remember that for later tonight,’’ you add in a mumble, but he doesn’t hear it because of the loud sounds coming from the game on the screen. 

‘‘What did you say, babe?’’ He asks with a raised brow, hitting the buttons of the controller with expert ease. 

‘‘I’ll call your mom and tell her you don’t wanna share.’’ You joke with a threatening voice, but Jungkook knows better than to take your words so lightly. He pauses the game and turns to look at you with an are you serious? expression on his face, you giggle as you’ve finally got what you wanted. 

He apologizes by covering your face with kisses, pleading for you not to tell on him with his mom. You promise not to do so this time, knowing that the woman was probably tired of having to scold his son at his big age. 

Plus, ever since Jungkook surprised you with the almost exact replica of the Valentine’s Day card you gave him all those year back, you’ve taken advantage to tease him even more knowing he’s at your beck and call. You always remind him that he came close because the stickers he used were not like the ones you had, but he remembered to add the hearts on the I’s so that’s good enough. 

‘‘Alright you can play, but━!’’ He says after he finishes his attack of kisses, ‘‘I’ll be your guide, I can’t risk you messing my record up, no offense baby.’’ None taken as you nod excitedly, you’ll always take whatever chance he gives you. 

Jungkook’s finally learned how to share his toys after all.

[goldenavenger02]

my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand

5 times Zane took care of the team and 1 time the team took care of Zane

•••

1;

"You three are brothers now, and will become stronger together. But for now, you must get acquainted with each other." Sensei's words rang in Zane's head as he made his way into the kitchen of the monastery.

While Jay had been somewhat easy to get introduced to, with his passion for robotics and his tendency to talk, they had become close very quickly.

Cole, however, was a bit harder to speak to; Zane could tell that Cole was a good person, as he was extremely loyal to Sensei even though he had just started his training under him, but he was also closed off to Jay and Zane.

And while he didn't know why, Zane had a feeling it was more so due to some sort of pain in his past, and not him viewing himself and Jay as lower than him.

Which is why Zane was now in the kitchen; he could never quite place exactly why, but he always felt at peace when he was cooking. Something about making something out of nothing was soothing to him.

But before he had decided what exactly he was going to make, that's when Cole came in, a look of longing across his face.

"Hello, Cole," Zane greeted, offering him a smile, but it faded when Cole stiffened, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you."

"It's alright, just startled me," Cole insisted, the look of longing came back before he asked, "are you making anything specific?"

"I have not decided. Do you have a request?" Zane asked, trying to read Cole's face.

"Can you make cake? Vanilla cake?"

"Absolutely," Zane smiled, going to grab the ingredients before asking, his back turned to Cole, "are we celebrating something, or is it just cake?"

He heard Cole take in a deep breath, almost as if he was trying to avoid crying, which didn't make much sense, since from what he knew, cake was never for sad things.

Zane turned around to see Cole staring at the counter before he responded.

"Yeah, it's…" he swallowed before locking eyes with Zane, "it would have been my mom's birthday. She passed away a few months ago."

"I am sorry for your loss, Cole." Zane spoke softly, unsure of how best to comfort someone he didn't know very well.

The room went quiet for a few moments, and Zane busied himself with grabbing the rest of the cooking supplies when Cole spoke up again, his voice cracking slightly from the tears.

"Can I help?"

Zane nodded, allowing Cole behind the counter before Zane got to work on the dry ingredients, watching as Cole started working on the wet ingredients.

And when Zane tripped over his own foot, resulting in Cole being covered in flour head to toe, he couldn't stop himself from laughing when Cole did, although he didn't fully understand exactly what was so funny.

2;

"Come on, you stupid hunk of junk!" Nya's shout rang through the Bounty, startling everyone that was aboard.

"How long has she been working on the thruster?" Zane asked, wondering just how long she had gone without food, sleep and water.

"Since yesterday afternoon, I can't pry her away from it." Jay explained, which led Zane to nod before making his way to the control room.

Nya was hunched over the thruster controls, screwdriver in her left hand and a screw hanging out of her mouth, her eyebrows scrunched in anger as she continued to twist the wrench with her right around a bolt.

"Nya?" Zane spoke softly, not wanting to provoke her, before gently putting his hand on her shoulder, "perhaps you should take a break. Jay said that you have been working on it since yesterday."

"I've gotta work on this," she shook her head after taking the screw out of her mouth, "we don't know when we'll have to make a getaway from...whatever Lord Garmadon is planning."

Zane nodded; since Garmadon had disappeared after the destruction of the golden weapons, they had all braced themselves for an attack, even Lloyd who had just started learning the full extent of his powers was getting ready for whatever his dad was going to throw at them.

"I understand your reasoning perfectly, but you are human, Nya. You will get burnt out if you work yourself too hard," he stopped to gently take the wrench out of her hand so she would look at him, "and if we have any chance at stopping Garmadon, we are going to need Samurai X."

Luckily, Nya nodded, and put up her tools, before wiping at her brow with her arm. "Thanks, Zane."

"You're welcome." Zane couldn't help but smile as he watched Nya make her way towards her quarters, and that's when he turned back to the thruster, and started to get to work with schematics pulled up in front of him.

"You will fly again, my friend."

3;

Despite the fact that it was called "The Dark Island", Zane had actually found the perfect place to sit on the beach and watch the sunrise, which was hidden by large rocks, even though he could see the ocean perfectly.

He knew that the others would wake up soon, and they would start working towards the final battle yet again, but for a brief moment, everything was peaceful.

Until he heard the footsteps.

Zane immediately drew his weapon, hearing the slight rustle of sand get louder and louder, until finally, he stood and yelled, ready to attack until the supposed assailant screamed, energy at both of their hands.

Zane immediately sheathed the weapon and took a deep breath, watching as Lloyd did the same, his hand against his chest. "You scared me, Lloyd."

"Likewise," Lloyd took a deep breath before raising an eyebrow, "what're you doing?"

"I'm watching the sunrise, it looks beautiful from here," Zane explained, sitting back down and watching Lloyd's face fall, "although, I could ask you the same thing."

"I just needed some time for myself," Lloyd told him, sitting next to Zane before letting out a sigh, "I don't think I'm ready."

"To fight your father?," Zane offered, resulting in a nod from Lloyd, "You have every reason to be upset about this situation. I just reunited with my father, and I can confidently say that I would be very distraught if we were on opposite sides."

"My entire life, I've lost people. My father got banished, my mother went to work on her research and left me at Darkley's, even my uncle didn't take me in for a long time," Zane watched as Lloyd took in a shaky breath before wiping his face against his sleeve, "I don't wanna lose him again."

"Again?" Zane asked softly, as to avoid provoking Lloyd.

"My dad has been the only one to come back for me. When I got taken by the Serpentine, he left whatever evil place he was in to come save me, and I know you guys came for me too, but…"

"You're scared of being abandoned again after you fulfill the prophecy." Zane spoke aloud as it clicked in his head, and when Lloyd nodded, he could feel his heart break slightly.

"I don't want to be alone again."

Zane nodded, before gently laying his hand on Lloyd's shoulder and he saw the tear streaks on Lloyd's cheeks. "You won't be alone again, because you have me and the others. We are your brothers, and even if you didn't have elemental abilities, we would still be your brothers."

Zane didn't prepare himself adquitally for the hug that Lloyd gave him, and he could feel his circuits and gears tightening under his grasp.

But hearing Lloyd's soft voice whisper, "thank you, Zane," made it all worth it, and he couldn't stop himself from returning the hug.

4;

"No sign of Chen or any of his warriors." PIXAL affirmed with a smile, which led Zane to repeat the message to Kai.

Now that he had been freed, he was fully able to explore exactly what his new body could do, and while he remembered big events clearly and flashes of small things, his memory was still foggy.

But he remembered his friends, and that was the biggest thing that mattered to him.

"Any sign of Skylor?" Kai begged, and Zane had no choice but to shake his head no, seeing the look of anguish on Kai's face grow more prominent.

"Let's keep looking. They couldn't have gotten off the island." Kai insisted, Zane following closely behind, watching as Kai's face went from anger to worry.

"You seem distraught, Kai. About more than Skylor," Zane reached forward and gently set his hand on Kai's shoulder, watching as he turned back to meet his eyes, "do you want to talk about it?"

Kai let out a sigh before turning back to the path and continued to walk, "I feel terrible for what happened. I had to trick Lloyd in order to get the staff from Chen, and then I almost hurt Lloyd and Skylor with the staff. Now she's missing, and...I feel like that's on me."

"No one blames you for that, Kai. Chen is the one who took her, not you." Zane reasoned softly.

"But I allowed myself to be corrupted by the staff. We all know how bad losing power is for Lloyd, and I allowed the power to consume me, to say things to him that...that I haven't believed in a long time."

"As soon as we get back, you two should talk and get everything out in the open," Zane stopped once again to put his hand on Kai's shoulder, "if we are going to fight as one, and stop Chen, we cannot have any harsh feelings towards each other."

"You're right," Kai nodded, before letting out another sigh, "I just hope Lloyd doesn't hate me."

"I think that would be impossible, Kai," Zane insisted, and when Kai turned to raise an eyebrow at him, he continued, "I do not remember everything, and my memories are still foggy, but I remember just how much Lloyd and you have bonded over the years. I have a feeling that after you two talk, he will forgive you."

Kai smiled, which made Zane's emotion levels spike with happiness, before the two continued walking deeper and deeper into Chen's island.

5;

Zane couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something, like there was a gap in his memory drive, even if PIXAL insisted that there wasn't one.

So he was awake in the bridge, trying to double check; he really did trust PIXAL, but something had happened to his memories, and after the whole situation with his memory switch in the first place, something about forgetting just scared him.

But as he continued to go through his internal hard drive, and his memory drive, it seemed as though PIXAL was correct, and there was no gap.

As he went to close the files, that's when PIXAL popped up in his vision.

"Zane, there is someone in the general proximity of the bridge. Proceed with caution."

Zane straightened his back as he closed the files, even though the only sound he could hear was a slight sniffling that sounded a lot like crying, and grabbed one of the spare katanas that was out, turning slowly to see if he could scope out who was in the room, but that's when Jay turned the corner, a pint of ice cream in his hand that he almost threw at Zane when he screamed.

"What the heck are you doing up, Zane?!" Jay screeched as Zane set the katana on the table and approached him, "You're going to give me a heart attack if you're that quiet!"

"I'm sorry, I was just…" Zane trailed off before making eye contact with Jay, who now had the spoon from the pint of ice cream, that looked like it was Cole's ice cream, in his mouth; the tear streaks barely visible against Jay's cheeks, however, that's what Zane noticed, "What are you doing up at this hour?"

"Could ask you the same thing," Jay responded before sticking another spoonful in his mouth, "couldn't sleep, got hungry, and Cole's name isn't on his ice cream."

"I heard someone crying." Zane asked softly, watching as Jay nearly choked on a chunk of cookie dough before sputtering.

"Maybe it was Lloyd, you know he curls up under the wheel when he doesn't want anyone to know he's crying."

"Lloyd was snoring when I left our room, I would have seen him," he watched as Jay's body deflated slightly and he put the ice cream down on the console before sitting down, which led Zane to put his hand on his shoulder, "do you want to talk about it?"

"I'm just working through some things, things that...you wouldn't remember."

Zane swallowed as he made the connection that Jay knew exactly why he had a gap in his memory that PIXAL couldn't detect, but instead of freaking out, he sat next to Jay, and put his hand on his shoulder. "Maybe not, but I am willing to listen, even if you wanna erase this conversation afterwards."

"Nah, I'm not gonna do that," Jay wiped his hand across his face before taking a shaky breath and turning back to Zane, "You remember when we were trying to get to Stiix because of reports of Clouse being there?"

"Yes, that's when you and Nya resumed dating." Zane affirmed, watching as Jay's face fell slightly.

"Yeah, that's… not exactly what happened…"

6;

'Remember when I put Kai's clothes in with yours, and you had to dress up as the pink ninja? Remember?' The blonde boy pleaded, green eyes full of tears.

He had no idea what this liar was talking about, let alone who he was. Vex insisted he was some sort of liar or traitor, but there was something about the way…

'No.'

He had no idea who this was.

•••

Zane tried to shake the memory away as he made his way to his room, looking over at the photo on his dresser.

The picture that they had taken after finishing the mural on the monastery wall; where Kai was holding onto Nya and Lloyd and Nya was holding onto Jay and Jay was holding onto Cole and Lloyd was holding onto him and he was holding onto PIXAL.

And they were all happy; even though the Oni almost killed them all, there was a large gash next to Lloyd's eye and Cole looked like he had been through the underworld and back, they were happy.

Zane was anything but happy now.

When they returned from the Never-Realm, and they shared weary smiles and hugs with Master Wu and PIXAL, despite the frostbite, Lloyd's obvious concussion and the burns on Kai's hands that would definitely scar, they were happy.

The feeling in Zane's gut was not going away anytime soon. Watching as PIXAL stitched the cut on the back of Lloyd's head, applied bandages to Kai's hands, and treated the frostbite wasn't helping with that either.

Zane didn't deserve to feel happy after nearly killing the others. After nearly killing Lloyd.

While the others were eating dinner, courtesy of Nya, Zane was sitting outside on the steps of the monastery; he didn't need to eat, and even if he did, he didn't think he could stomach it.

'You were built to protect those who cannot protect themselves. You failed your purpose. Both as a ninja, and as yourself.'

Despite all that had happened with his memories, Zane was starting to consider asking Jay to wipe the archive of the Never-Realm. Maybe he wouldn't feel as bad then.

"Hey," a voice interrupted his thoughts, and he lifted his head to see Lloyd smiling at him, although it was more of a sympathetic smile than a genuine one, "mind if I sit here?"

"You're not supposed to be outside, or on stairs for that matter, without supervision," Zane reasoned, but still moved so Lloyd could sit beside him, "you still have a concussion."

"Well, you're here, so I'm being supervised," Lloyd reasoned while sitting, and Zane couldn't deny that logic, and the company was more welcome than the deafening silence, "besides, I need a break from Kai and Master Wu breathing down my neck."

Zane nodded as Lloyd adjusted to get comfortable; he had noticed how understandably protective both of them had grown since they had gotten back, and how Lloyd had insisted immediately that the concussion was Vex's fault, refusing to look Zane in the eye.

"So, are you leaving?" Lloyd's voice cracked, which jolted something in Zane's system as he nearly stood with the shock.

"No, no, I'm not leaving," he insisted, unable to ignore the relief on Lloyd's face as he spoke, "why would you ask that?"

"Because the last time you left the monastery at night, you found my treehouse," Lloyd kicked at a pebble before looking at Zane, "and when the Hypnobri burned down the old monastery-"

But Lloyd's voice cut out as the scene played out in his head.

'Flames, trapped dragons, no more training equipment, no home, nowhere to go, alone, everyone accusing him of causing this, insisting that it was a teaching moment, being ignored, seeing the falcon, following it, the feeling of being alone again.'

"I left because I saw the falcon, and you weren't even there." Zane tried to convince Lloyd that it hadn't been the guilt, feeling like he had screwed up, feeling like he was alone.

"You're right, I was busy being a brat," Lloyd reasoned before looking back at Zane, "but I know as well as anyone what guilt is, and you felt it then, like you feel it now."

Zane swallowed; did everyone know? Was he terrible at hiding this? Had they planned to send Lloyd out?

"I hurt people. A lot of people," Zane swallowed, knowing that there were tears in his eyes, "I hurt you."

"That was Vex-" Lloyd tried to insist, but Zane shook his head, unable to look at Lloyd and instead looked up at the glittering stars.

"You don't have to lie to me, Lloyd. They were my hands, I was the one who…" he couldn't even finish his sentence without choking on the emotions on his throat.

He felt Lloyd's hand on his shoulder, he couldn't look at him, but he couldn't reach over and pull his hand off either, 'what if I freeze him? What if I hurt him again?'

"You know, Master Wu has a saying for things like this, "we cannot change the past, but we can affect the future"," Lloyd quoted, leading Zane to swallow harshly as his master's words rang true in his head, "but I get it. Feeling like you hurt people because it was your hands."

'Morro.'

"Lloyd, I didn't-" Zane started, finally managing to look at Lloyd, but he was cut off by childlike wonder spreading across his face.

"A shooting star! Quick, make a wish!" Lloyd begged, and Zane wiped at his tears before closing his eyes, pretending to make a wish before turning back to Lloyd.

"What did you wish for?" He asked, fully indulging Lloyd at this point, who was standing up. 'Lloyd deserves this, after everything.'

"That you'll come back inside with me and the others," Lloyd held out his hand to Zane, making his head throb with worry.

'You'll hurt him, you'll hurt him, you'll hurt-' "You're not going to hurt me, Zane."

Zane took Lloyd's hand, and allowed him to lead him to the living room.

For the first time since they got back from the Never-Realm, as Cole and Kai went head to head in their video game, as Nya and Jay snuggled on the couch, as he sat in between Lloyd and PIXAL, things felt right again.

He let PIXAL hold his hand, he let Cole high five him, he let Jay give him a fist bump, he hit the empty bag of chips away from Lloyd's head. Even as Master Wu pulled Lloyd away from the TV due to the concussion and Cole took his spot, he still felt calm. Relaxed even. Maybe now, they could all start to heal together.

[cg29fics]

Pick and Mix Collection

A selection of Little Tracy fics for @gordonthegreatesttracy and @psychoseal

All can be found with other short stories in my Pick & Mix Collection on AO3 & FFNet: CreativeGirl29

School Reports. Aged 8.

Scott Tracy:

Scott is a bright young boy, who is extremely popular with all his classmates. He is always first to put himself forward for team challenges and is a natural team leader. However, Scott tends to be impulsive and rush into an activity or challenge, which on occasions as cost him a higher mark. Scott excels in English, Geography and Physical Education but tends to struggle in maths.

John Tracy:

John is a quiet, introspective and intelligent young man, who excels in Science, Maths, English and Information Technology. John as the potential to go far in life and could be moved up a grade if he was to apply himself to what he once referred to as the ‘boring subjects’ and stop correcting myself and my other colleagues when we are trying to teach.

Virgil Tracy:

Virgil is a lovely, thoughtful boy, who always listens in class, speaks when he is spoken to, and on occasions has gone out of his way to support other classmates when they are struggling. Virgil has a gift for art, music and history. He also recently earned top marks when we taught first-aid in his class. However, I would like to bring to your attention Virgil’s tendency to day dream when he is not taking part in one of his favourite subjects.

Gordon Tracy:

Gordon is a conundrum and seems to have two sides to him. On the one side, you have the sweet boy who will always be there for his friends, excels in physical education, especially swimming and did surprisingly well when we did our big baking day. However, the other side of Gordon has a habit of constantly chatting in class, despite being asked to be quiet and as unfortunately become known as the school clown. If Gordon were to apply himself in all his work instead of drawing pictures of himself as a fish, he could gain good marks in all his classes.

Alan Tracy:

Alan is a smart boy who as always got a smile on his face. When he is interested in a subject, or as been caught by an idea he is an absolute pleasure to teach. However, like his brother before him, he tends to chat in class, and on many occasions, has had his portable computer console confiscated when he has been found playing on it, instead of learning. Alan struggles in History but excels in science and maths. I would also like to bring to your attention Alan’s report on ‘Our Heroes.’ All the children in his class decided to write about a celebrity, sports personality or historical figure. Instead, Alan wrote a fantastic and touching report where he named his older brother John as his hero and who he would most like to be like when he grows up.

5 more fics beneath the cut

**

STAR BOY:

"John you've been told not to run in the house." His father complained, catching his 4-year-old son in his arms.

"I'm not John." John answered with a serious face.

"Oh, you're not?" Jeff remarked, observing the cape John had attempted to make out of his comfort blanket. "Well, I must say, you certainly look like my John!"

"Shush! Daddy." John whispered. No one can know my secret ident…" John paused, thinking about the word he was struggling to say. "Ident…"

Jeff smiled. "Identity."

John grinned. "Yeah, my secret identity."

"So, who are you then?" Jeff inquired curiously.

"I'm Star Boy." John shouted, as he managed to struggle free and started running around in circles.

Jeff let out a chuckle at his son's exuberance. "So, Star Boy. What powers do you have?"

"Fly in space." John cried with joy.

"And what's your current mission Jo… I mean Star Boy?"

John ground himself to a sudden halt. "Find baby Virgie!" He stated with a thoughtful look.

"Virgil." Jeff corrected. "And he's not missing, he's nice and safe in your mummy's tummy."

John stared at his dad in confusion. "But I heard you and mummy say that he was late, and then mummy said if he didn't turn up soon she would…"

"Okay, John." Jeff said cutting John off. He would have to have a word to Lucille about what John had overheard. He knew she would be mortified but John seemed to have exceptional hearing and they both knew that their boy was very bright for his age. Jeff held his arms out for his current youngest son. John happily ran into them, and let himself be pulled up onto his father's lap. "Now, Virgil is still safe in your mummy's tummy, the reason he's late is because your mum has made it so comfortable in there that he doesn't want to leave yet."

"But I want to find him, cause then I'll get to be big brother like Scotty." John frowned.

Jeff pulled John into a warm hug. "And you will be a brilliant big brother just like Scott." He assured him.

As Jeff held John tightly in his arms, a shout from his mother came from in the kitchen, followed by his oldest son running into the room.

"Daddy, Grandma said to tell you mummy's waters broken!" Scott panted.

Jeff pulled himself to his feet, keeping John firmly in one arm, and taking Scott's hand with the other. "Well, my Star Boy." Jeff said, looking at John with pride. "It looks like your mission was successful!"

"It was?" John asked with a puzzled expression.

Jeff beamed as he stood John next to Scott, who automatically took his little brother's hand in his. "Yes, you did!" He added, with a concerned look towards the kitchen as he heard his mother and Lucille call for him once more. "Looks like baby Virgil is on his way!"

Several hours later:

John grinned with joy, as with his mother's help, he held his new baby brother in his arms. "Hey, Virgie." He said softly. "I'm John, your big brother… And my secret is I'm also Star Boy." He whispered. "I helped find you today!" John looked at Virgil who gazed at him with his big eyes. "And my next mission is to be your big brother." He said with a contented sigh.

**

4 little brothers.

12 year old Scott Tracy stretched out in his bed, enjoying the warmth from is duvet on a cold winters night. Yes, this was his time. His time to relax after a full on day spent with 4 hyper younger brothers. His time to bask in the peace and quiet his room provided…

… THUNDERCLAP … the pouring rain began hammering at his window …

Scott sighed, threw back his blanket and began counting "5, 4, 3, 2, 1…"

… THUNDERCLAP … 4 scared little brothers rushed into his room …

"Come on then, jump in."

… THUNDERCLAP… 4 scared little brothers scurried noisily into the bed.

Pulling the blanket over them all Scott smiled when he felt each of them snuggle up to him. 'Forget the peace and quiet,' he thought to himself. He would prefer to have his 4 brothers any day!

**

First Day.

“Don’t want too…” Alan whined, clinging desperately onto his father’s trousers.

“But you have to,” Jeff returned, trying to loosen his son’s grip.

“Why?”

“Because…” Jeff paused, then exhaled, he had no answer for his baby. Honestly, he was out of his depth, normally this was Lucille’s job, but she wasn’t here like she had been for his other boys… He glanced at his four sons standing close by, none of them had wanted to miss this moment, none of them wanted Alan to feel like he was missing out on something, even though they knew that he was. After all, it shouldn’t be them doing this, it should be their mother. They’d all had her here for their first day, but Alan wouldn’t… And even though he hadn’t said anything they could see it in his eyes that he knew he was different from all of the other kids who were being dropped off by their moms.

“Because,” Scott said, stepping forwards, “you will get to make some cool new friends.”

“I will?”

“Yes,” John replied, “and you can play with some neat toys.”

“And when I was here,” Gordon added, “they had some awesome toy dolphins, and a submarine…”

Alan scrunched up his tiny nose.

Gordon grinned. “They also had some cars and toy rockets!”

“Wow!” Alan exclaimed.

“You can also draw and paint,” Virgil informed him.

“Without getting told off for using your paints?”

“As long as you share with your classmates,” Virgil said with a big smile, “then you can use whatever you want… And maybe you could bring me a picture back of your favourite toy?”

Alan nodded enthusiastically, then looked up to his dad. “I’m ready to go now daddy!”

Jeff knelt down so his eyes were level with Alan’s. “Have a brilliant day son.”

Alan beamed, loosened his grip, then immediately ran towards his teacher.

Standing, Jeff reached out and brought his four other boys into a warm hold. Knowing that whenever he was out of his depth then his amazing sons would always have his back.

**

The Beast

It was dark. Only a few rays of sunlight managing to penetrate the lair he had entered. He had been warned on numerous occasions about the beast that inhabited this area and was known to attack when woken, but he had not believed. Yes, he had seen it on many occasions, but all of those times it had been funny, friendly and caring. Surely, just because it was woken early it wouldn't attack. Especially since it was him.

He creeped closer. Currently it was lying on its stomach, eyes were tightly shut, and bizarre noises were emitting from it. Finally, reaching his destination he leant towards it, his hand reaching out, but then a sudden snort from the thing in front of him was released causing him to jump back. Maybe it wasn't best to disturb it? Maybe Gordon was right, and the beast did attack if provoked this early? Although his brother was known to make things up. This probably was just one of his jokes and the usual encounter would be received. He had to be brave and find out the truth. Straightening himself up, he stepped forwards, and placed his hand confidently on the shoulder in front of him…

"Virg…"

No movement, no signs of him waking, so he tried again…

"Virgie?"

This time a groan emitted from his brother, then once again he grew quiet…

"Virgie," he pushed harder on his shoulder, "please wake up."

A yawn, and a pair of bleary eyes opened, grumpy and nothing like the kind-hearted peaceful ones he was used to… He moved backwards… Maybe this was a mistake… But then there eyes met, and a soft gentle smile illuminated the features of his brother.

"Hey Alligator, what's up?"

"Nothing," Alan replied with a little snigger at the nickname.

Virgil regarded the three-year-old in front of him. "Nothing, really?"

"Well, Gordy said you were a beast in the morning, but I didn't believe him, so he said I should come and see for myself."

"Did he indeed?"

Alan nodded his head.

"Well, I'm not a beast."

"Knew it!" Alan cheered happily.

"But," Virgil looked at his clock, "when I am woken this early, I am known to turn into a bear."

Alan gasped in shock.

"And you know what bears do, right?"

Alan scrunched up his little nose and shuck his head…

"Well, they are known to attack."

"Really?"

"Yes, with…" Virgil paused for dramatic effect… "tickles!"

A fit of giggles erupted from Alan when Virgil pounced, flung him over his shoulder, then onto the bed where he began tickling him madly.

**

Baby Talk

"Hi, I'm Scott, I'm four years old, I love aeroplanes and jumping off the couch. Although mummy and daddy tell me off for that one. My best friend became a big brother to a little sister last year, he's really good at it, and I want to be the same. So, I will always cuddle you, care for you, and when you get bigger I will help you to learn all of the things I found hard. I promise that I will be the best big brother you could ask for…" He leaned in and kissed his mother's tummy, feeling a kick back in response… "Love you too!"

[nanowrimo]

5 Tips for Finishing Your Novel

April’s session of Camp NaNoWriMo is drawing to a close, and you might find yourself nearing the end of your novel. If you need some tips on writing and polishing the ending of your story, author Derek Murphy is here to share a few! Plus, you can check out the rest of our novel-finishing resources on our #NaNoFinMo page. 

You won NaNoWriMo and have a 50k collection of scenes and sentences, but how do you clean it up and get it done? How do you make sure it’s finished, satisfying and enjoyable? Here are 5 powerful strategies for finishing your novel and some helpful writing tips that will push you past the finish line.

1. Give it a satisfying resolution.

In order to have a powerful story, your book should probably focus on a main character’s change or transformation. There’s an inner war, a.k.a. the character’s emotional healing, and an outer war: the conflict that forced the reckoning. If it’s a purely symbolic internal realization, you can mirror that with actual conflict in the real scene: the breaking of a dish, a fit of rage, a sudden ray of sunlight (or a storm… this should not be pleasant; It’s a breaking point and spiritual death/rebirth).

You can clarify the moment of change by setting up an illustrative contrast, a before and after, that shows how those internal changes have resulted in real-world consequences or benefits. Each character’s unique challenge will match their personal weakness or fear. The price for victory is the one thing they have so far refused to do, or something they cannot give up or bear to lose.

Make sure your protagonist has gone through a transformative struggle to arrive at deep insights, knowledge or awareness. Find a way to deepen the incidental scenes so that they become instrumental to a deeper purpose, leading towards an identity-shifting event.

The plot is what happens, and it’s important. But you can make it more dramatic and meaningful by making sure you demonstrate how hard it was and what it cost. It matters, it is remarkable, because it forced your protagonist to change.

Your conclusion might include:

Physical tension as allies perform a tug-of-war battle against resistance, that shows how difficult this struggle is, and how much force is required.

The consideration phase, as characters are tempted last minute or the price for victory is revealed: the sweet memories that give them awareness that this fight is worth the cost or risk (you need to show them making the choice, knowing what they will lose).

The final flashback, as the full backstory is revealed so we can see exactly why this conflict is so difficult or meaningful for the main character.

2. Add (unresolved) conflict.

Your story is made up of the events and scenes, where something happens. Each new event will push the characters further into the plot. Slow scenes where nothing is really happening can be red flags, so the first thing to focus on is increasing conflict, drama, suspense and intrigue. This is what creates urgency. The full reveal, demonstrating why THIS challenge is so difficult and powerful, should happen just before the final battle or resolution.

You want to make sure every scene, especially in your conclusion, has enough conflict. I recommend these three:

Outer Conflict (threats): Challenges or obstacles that prevent the character from achieving goals.

Inner Conflict (doubts): Moral struggles, decisions, guilt or shame, anger.

Friendly Fire (betrayal): Strong disagreements between allies or supporting characters. 

You want to extend and deepen the potential conflict, without resolving it too easily. The biggest destroyer of conflict is conversation: when your characters just sit around and talk to each other. Most conflict involves a lack of information, and a desire for clarity. A lot of conflict is perceived or imagined.

The most important information needs to come last, and come at a great price. The information that has an emotional impact, and influences their actions and decisions, should be big reveals at dramatic peaks. A surprise or twist should be treated as an event: each scene is leading towards a change or new piece of information that provokes the protagonist to respond.

3. Fill plot holes with character motivation.

After you’ve made sure that “what actually happens” is intriguing (opening questions and raising tensions without resolving them) you can focus on making sure the plot holes are filled, and characters are properly motivated – these two things are usually adjacent.

You can find and fill plot holes by asking:

Why are the characters doing this?

Why does any of it matter?

Basically, readers need to respect the main characters enough to care what happens to them, so their choices and actions need to make sense within the given information. If there’s a simpler, easier solution, readers will get stuck up on “why didn’t they just…”? To fix plot holes and gaps in logic or continuity, or make the story go where you need it to, you can add urgency, fix the mood of the scene (bigger stakes require bigger justifications), show characters in a weakened mental state, or raise concerns but have them dismissed, with an excuse or justification.

You need rational characters to make plausible choices that lead to dire consequences. You need show why they don’t do something easier, or nothing at all, or why they face clear challenges, despite potential obstacles.

They’ll also require a deeper motivation, for why they’re willing to put themselves in identity-destroying conflict, rather than just giving up or running away. Why do they stay in THIS fight, when they’ve run from similar ones? If they weren’t ready at the beginning, why are the ready now – what changed in them, as a result of your story’s journey?

Your protagonist needs to have a strong, consistent internal compass, and it needs to be revealed through incidents that establish their character. This is who they are. Without this reliable core identity, we won’t be able to tell a story that forces them to change. 

4. Let readers picture your story with detailed description.

In the final stages of revision, you can begin improving the description with specific details.

It’s smart to start – or end – a chapter with a vivid, immediate scene. You want to leave readers with an image they can see in their minds, hopefully connected to the feeling you aim to evoke. You can close a chapter with a reference back to a motif or image, with a deeper or more reflective context; applying meaning to the metaphor. This will help readers feel engaged, be moved, and leave a lasting impact.

Vivid scenes are mostly a matter of detailed description, so add the specifics about the story environment. Be precise, not vague. Instead of “she put a plate of tea and snacks on the table” you can write “she gently placed an antique porcelain teapot on the table. I could smell it was Earl Grey from the scent of bergamot. The half-sleeve of Oreos and can of onion-flavored Pringles seemed incongruous with the fancy dishes, but I knew she was making an effort to welcome me.”

Focus on the sensations and feelings; but also zero-in on any potential sources of conflict or internal emotions or states of mind. In my example above, the host might be nervous or ashamed of her spread; or perhaps she has a degenerative brain disease and doesn’t notice the incongruity. Tensions are unspoken, potential sources of negative feelings. They hover in the background of your description.

Readers will remember the pictures you put in their heads, not the words on the page.

Description should serve and be bound to the story, not distract from it.

It should be squeezed into and around the scene action, when the protagonist is using or exploring.

Show what’s different, not what’s the same.

Leave space for readers to fill in the gaps, but get them started in the right direction so they aren’t surprised later.

Sidenote: be careful about your metaphors, analogies and similes. Each one will put a picture into readers’ minds, and it can quickly get overcrowded with imagery. You’re asking them to ignore your real scene and think of something else. Use them to confirm and amplify the scene you have, and limit distractions.

5. Prepare to publish.

Typos are bad, but perfectionism will ruin you. This section is about editing and proofreading, but I don’t have time for all that, and you don’t either. The real problem with a story is rarely the number of typos. A very clean book isn’t better if people stop reading.

You can solve a lot of common writing problems, with my big list of 25 common writing mistakes, and self-edit your manuscript to make it as good as possible. After that, a copyeditor or proofreader isn’t always the best investment (and it can also be the biggest publishing cost).

Instead, use an editing software (I like Grammarly) to root out obvious mistakes, but don’t dwell on the small stuff like perfecting every word or rearranging the commas. Spending a very long time wrestling a poorly-written manuscript in shape is less effective than getting something (actually) done to the point where you’re comfortable sharing it.

This may be difficult at first, but you can’t learn and improve without genuine reader feedback (from people who aren’t your mom or best friend; nor the short-sighted opinions of a self-proclaimed literature enthusiast). You need to find readers who enjoy your particular genre, and the sooner you find them, the more valuable feedback you can get.

Shorten the feedback loop: Get over the fear and focus on learning by getting feedback early and often. However, this doesn’t just mean joining a writer’s club: writers are brutal and might focus on trivial things. The safest bet is to make it public, on Wattpad at least. Or get a cheap cover and throw it up on Kindle, Draft2Digital or even your own blog.

Making it public is scary and vulnerable, but it’s better than letting the fear of messing up keep you from the brutal, necessary experience of allowing readers to tell you what they liked and disliked about your writing. Will some people be critical? Yes! But guess what, you’ll get negative reviews even if you’re a brilliant, famous writer. Those are inevitable. And the first negative reviews may teach you more about writing than 10 years attempting to self-edit, afraid of putting your book out into the world.

PS. You can use resources, like my 24-chapter plot outline, as a way to spot story gaps in your manuscript and improve the structure (especially if your book suffers from a “soggy middle.)

Derek Murphy has a PhD in Literature, writes urban fantasy and is the founder of the alliance of young adult authors. More recently, he’s started sharing writing tips on http://www.writethemagic.com

Top photo by Adegbenro Emmanuel Dipo on Unsplash.

[scripturiends]

law school episode 9 musings

warning: very very long post ahead. i have a lot of thoughts.

hey folks — how we feeling about episode 9?

given that there are so many plotlines in the show, i’m afraid i won’t be able to extend my analysis of the episode as far as i would like, but there are three characters who stood out to me the most last night that i’d like to talk about for now:

kang dan

there’s a lot that we got to uncover about her thanks to professor yang’s trial. if i’m piecing it all together right, the basic summary of what led to her disappearance goes like this:

she was a volunteer for assemblyman ko’s campaign, but upon discovering that he was spreading fake news about his opposition, dan reported him to the authorities (i’m guessing not just the police but also the media) and became a whistleblower. assemblyman ko tried to buy her off with money, but she refused, so he attacked her where she’s most vulnerable instead — by using her family.

i’m not completely sure about this (please feel free to correct me!) but it’s either byeol is (1) the twins’ half-sister, or (2) their stepsister? it’s so hard to tell, especially since korean terms can get lost in translation in the process (i watch on netflix, if that helps). but anyway, sol and dan’s mom married someone who was abusing her, and in exchange for dan’s silence (and her fleeing), the husband signs a contract that he would stop hurting his wife.

so that’s the backbone of dan’s story. however, this still doesn’t answer a lot of things, like where seo byungju or lee manho fits into the equation, the whereabouts of their mom’s ex-husband, or why dan was sent into boston in the first place.

i usually don’t like theorizing, but i do have one: there is an ivy league school located just outside of boston — harvard. (it’s technically in cambridge but you know, i’m taking liberties here.) professor yang said in passing one episode that he thought he saw dan when he went to the school for a seminar or a talk or something. could it be that assemblyman ko offered her an education at a top school in exchange for her silence? it could explain why she gave it up all so easily. what if she took that topnotch education as a chance to prepare, so that when she came back, she had much stronger leverage to take assemblyman ko down, given the knowledge and network of connections she’ll have earned in that school?

the theory’s plausible but i might be overestimating assemblyman ko’s kindness — unless he’s insanely desperate, he might not give a damn about dan’s education. it actually benefits him more if she stayed uninformed, but still. let me know what you think about it.

yoo seungjae

in this episode, we learned a little bit more about how yoo seungjae was able to hack into the professors’ laptops, and they also confirmed some of our previous speculations about him: that his wife yujeong was an ob gyn, and so was he, and that they were trying for a baby. unfortunately, i find it all to be a bit lacking in substance. i was hoping we could get down to the nitty-gritty of why he did what he did.

i say this for one important reason: i don’t know about you guys, but i would never make such a stupid mistake in undergrad, let alone in law school. seungjae has gone to med school, so we know that he knows the repercussions of his actions. why would he go to such lengths? sure, he found an opening, he was tempted, and he took it. but he didn’t just do it once, he did it multiple times, and those offenses add up (hacking, stealing exam papers, and cheating). surely he must know that something like this can ruin careers even before they even start, and not only would he get kicked out of the school, he would also get blacklisted from the industry once he implicates himself. so we understand why he’s so hesitant to testify (especially now that his wife is pregnant).

but why did he do that in the first place? we could say he’s insecure about his skills, but he’s survived med school. how much harder could law school be for him? i just don’t think that the payoff is worth the risk. what must be so important for yoo seungjae to do all of this for? what does he get in return if he successfully pulls it off and gets straight As during his entire time in law school? who is he doing for?

i hope it runs deeper than just wanting a ‘good future’ for him and his wife and their baby or something — because he could just as easily do that as a doctor. there must be another reason he went into law.

still, though, and this is just a personal opinion, even if i did find out his entire backstory, there’s no way i could ever defend him. we see in the show how his guilt builds up (from observing how kang sol A studies so well, to his conversation with jeon yeseul in the hospital), but at this point there is no more excusing what he did. not that i ever condoned it in the first place.

we’re still in the dark about a lot of things regarding yoo seungjae. hopefully by the next episode, we get something. but until then, he is still a shady, shady man to me.

kang sol B

her screen time in this episode was short, but i still wanted to highlight her because she is pretty much a ticking time bomb.

she’s in a tight spot right now because even if she testifies about having seen the sugar packet, the prosecutor will just twist the argument by saying she colluded with a murderer just to cover up her plagiarism.

and now, seo jiho needs her help, probably for something related to his case with prosecutor jin. in exchange, she puts pressure on him to ‘confirm’ that she didn’t plagiarize in middle school, since they were schoolmates and rivals.

there may be more to this plagiarism issue than meets the eye. who knows, we might find out later on that she actually didn’t plagiarize? but given what i know now, i have no reason to believe that she didn’t. i don’t blame her specifically for that, seeing as she has to pay for the consequences for something that her awful mom forced her to do. but now that the mess has been made, i want to see how she cleans it up.

kang sol B is a very elusive character to me. the scary thing about her is that she’s on no one’s side but her own. and that’s why i think she’s a ticking time bomb.

~

bonus: han joonhwi

so that’s all i have for the serious stuff. as a bonus, i’d like to talk about han joonhwi and his four (4) children jeon yeseul, seo jiho, kang byeol, and min bokgi.

one of my friends brought up how it’s so funny how he’s somehow just at the right place at the right time all the time. this happened when he ran into kang sol A when she was looking for yeseul (i still think they were on the phone with each other beforehand but this is just my shipper self talking — truthfully, if the focus was shifted towards that phone call without divulging who it was, i have a feeling it might be more important later on), and when seo jiho confronted prosecutor jin. adding his elevator conversation with kang sol B, i think it just solidified what we already know: han joonhwi is a very compassionate person. but he doesn’t sacrifice his own personality just to appease them — he recognizes that these individuals have agency, and he’s just giving them the little push they need to make them realize what they need to do.

i also felt the need to bring up kang byeol. the show does such a good job of ensuring that all the solhwi scenes that we get, no matter how indulgent and “fanservice-y” they might seem, actually have a deeper purpose. again, i could go on and on about what each solhwi scene has actually contributed to the development of the plot, which is exactly why i love them so much! because all of their scenes are so meaningful. but anyway, it’s nice to see han joonhwi care so much for his, ehem, future sister-in-law.

and for min bokgi — this scene was so short, but i absolutely loved it so much (i tend to pay attention to the throwaway scenes): min bokgi is going off about how yoo seungjae is acting weird, and he says to joonhwi, “hyung, you should call him.” and joonhwi responds with, “sure. eat your food.” it’s such a fatherly thing to do and it’s such a great contrast to bokgi’s dynamic with sol A, with whom he’s so loud and vibrant, moods that both match their personalities, but with joonhwi, who is more subdued, he’s like a little kid in need of rescue from an older brother, or even a dad. ah, i love it so much. min bokgi is such an underrated character. i wish he had more screen time. (if he doesn’t get a central ep, well, you guys know where i’m going with this, right? it means i’ll give it to him myself.)

~

so that’s it for now! i’m sorry i went on rambling again, but if there’s anything noteworthy in this post that you think is worth discussing, please do tell! if there’s anything that you found thought-provoking in the episode that i didn’t get to touch up on, let me know as well!

i personally don’t make any theories about the overarching plot myself, seeing as by the time the new episode comes out, we get fed information that renders the theory useless. still, that doesn’t mean we should stop coming up with our own ideas. sometimes, the theories are more interesting than the canon itself.

[well-in-all-honesty-i]

TW: Suicide

OKAY SO- I wanted to talk about Mafuyu and Yuki’s relationship and why it ended the way it did. I should preface this by saying that the majority of this, although somewhat supported by canon, is my own personal headcanon and speculation. I’ve been surrounded by a lot of people who I believe Yuki to be similar to, but I am not 100% accurate or well versed and this is mostly just from what I’ve gotten from those situations. Also, a lot of questionable grammar-I type like I speak, which doesn't translate well haha.

So I want to chunk this into 3 big pieces because I enjoy organizing things: Yuki’s childhood, how that affected his personality as a young adult, and how both of these lead to his eventual death.

Starting off with his childhood:

This one is heavy speculation (as most of this is-but this bit is particularly so) since there isn’t much canon to support this-or provide a lot of insight. But, what little we do know is that 1) Yuki’s father wasn’t present in his life-probably even before Mafuyu’s father had been jailed-and that, 2) Yuki and his father shared the same bull-headedness (?) and pride that Saeko believes led to his death.

I personally believe that Yuki’s father was someone who might have struggled with some sort of mental illness, as well as has had a problem with alcohol abuse. I also imagine that he probably disappeared or passed-either due to some sort of alcohol-related problem or suicide.

Saeko, from how she is characterized in the story, seems to be a very strong-willed and assertive person. In the aftermath of Yuki’s death, she's relatively composed and seems to have almost expected this to happen, although maybe not in the specific way it did. [Ex: When she tells Mafuyu that Yuki was always the type of person to die in a chicken race (a competition of pride, of sorts, that usually ends badly) and when she mentions him being similar to his father in that sense.]

In the flashbacks in the anime, when Mafuyu tells Yuki that his father beats him when he talks, Yuki’s response of ‘You know, a real father doesn’t do that.’ doesn’t sound like something a small child’s first response would be. It’s a bit of a reach-but considering that, as well as how prompt the response from his mother seemed to be (when Mafuyu’s father was jailed-not much time seems to have passed, and since both of their mothers are present, I've always assumed that Yuki's mother found out through her son and acted accordingly.),- it would make sense that Yuki might have some prior experience with this. Especially if his mother had gone through something similar-she probably would’ve warned him very strongly against the ideal his father had set, making Yuki want to be very far from that.

Speaking of which-I assume that Yuki probably had a very rough-if short-lived-relationship with his father when he was around. Given the stuff above, his father was probably someone who was emotionally volatile and tended to lose control when upset. If he had an alcohol problem, he might’ve caused a financial strain that fell onto Saeko as well.

Since his father was out of the picture and Saeko herself wasn't around as much as Yuki might've needed, it would have made him both very independent from his parents and adults in general, while also heavily reliant on Mafuyu (Hiiragi quotes both Mafuyu and Yuki to have been latchkey kids who found comfort in each other), both of which twist into the situation he found himself in later in life.

Leading into his teen years:

Yuki, as a young adult, is very independent-he works multiple jobs to pay for the expenses of being in a band, makes a point to avoid drinking, and is very affectionate towards Mafuyu. I'm not too sure about the reasoning behind why the four friends chose the high schools they did, but if Yuki's mother didn't directly influence that decision it's likely it was a choice made in direct relation to their band.

There's also very little interference from any adults in Yuki's life-namely, his mother. As someone who was probably very busy working as a single mother to support the two of them, her mentality was just to support him monetarily and let Mafuyu provide the emotional support in her place.

I think she also assumed her attempts wouldn't have been well received-most people noted how close Yuki and Mafuyu were and seemed to always assume that they had each other handled and that nobody had to worry about either of them because of it. In every way, it was simply easier to show Yuki she cared by not interfering and letting him hold the reigns of his own life.

A big indicator of this idea for me what when Saeko talked about how Yuki ordered his own ramen, the type he liked. It's a small thing, but it started me to read because it highlighted the amount of input his mother had on his life; which was very little. I don't know if he even used her money or chose to use the extra from his jobs to pay for it, but either way, it sort of put their relationship into perspective.

The impact it had:

Yuki probably had a lot of resentment towards his father, or, at the very least, a desire to turn out different. And oftentimes when a person is very strongly trying to avoid turning out like someone, they ignore or avoid acknowledging the similarities, rather than accepting and working on them to properly change. Without a strong parental/adult figure in his life, he wouldn't have considered insight beyond his own experiences. He's characterized to be moody and domineering, and Mafuyu is too soft-spoken to have brought up most issues until it reached its boiling point.

I believe Yuki might have had Borderline Personality Disorder to a mild extent. Some symptoms of BPD are mood swings, impulsivity, impaired social relationships, and a distorted self-image. They usually have thoughts of suicide or self-harming tendencies. When they feel insecure in relationships, in which they’re usually very, very invested, they tend to lash out or do rash things to keep them close.

Based on my relationships with the borderline people in my life, I've noticed that they usually bounce between having great confidence in themselves, to being incredibly insecure. It's hard to explain specifically, but they walk a fine line of being insecure and also maintaining a painfully strong ego, which makes them react very strongly when provoked, intentionally or not. Yuki and Mafuyu have a different type of relationship than I do with those people in my life which, for the two of them, means that Mafuyu probably had to provide lots of emotional support for Yuki, while also under the mild threat of Yuki coming to harm by his own actions.

Being with someone with these tendencies who is also unaware of them is very draining, especially for someone as mild and soft-spoken as Mafuyu is. Yuki tended to lead their relationship and was probably very noticeable when upset-and for someone who might not be used to speaking up or someone who has low self-confidence, it is difficult to bring up things. It doesn't feel safe if you don't know exactly how it would be received. Especially if they are the person you are closest to, it can be anxiety-inducing to try and bring up problems that don't seem to be incredibly important or unavoidable.

So, long story short-Yuki was closed off to receiving any kind of proper advice or criticism that would've saved him. Another symptom of BPD, as mentioned before, is suicidal ideation. So, if all these things are combined, it's a lot easier to see how he, surrounded by only his thoughts and ideas, would make the choice to take his own life when provoked.

It wasn't specifically that Mafuyu had caused his death, but more that he just sent him over the edge he had been teetering on for a long while. He was like his father in the sense that they had the same flaws that just came from different places. Yuki's pride came from the flip side of his insecurities and his own early independence, and his mental health issues as a whole are probably hereditary. The specificities of his death, where Yuki drinks after avoiding alcohol for his entire life, feels like he failed in his effort to avoid being like his father. He was different as a person but in the end, their flaws aligned and brought them to their end in parallels to each other.

Calling back to what his mom said-it doesn't feel unexpected. It is shocking, but not a surprise. Yuki was fiercely independent and wanted to learn and do new things, all on his own-including his own death and whatever follows after.

[I wrote this a while back and didn’t really like how most of it was speculation and hard to prove-but decided to post it anyway because I spent too much time on it lol.

Like I said before, most of this is just my head canons, but I hope it made sense! Feel free to add on with your stuff/arguments/headcanons :)]

[wingsofkpop]

Hiraeth - I.X: Was it Worth it in the End? Part Two

pairing(s): Hybrid!Im Jaebeom x Reader, Witch!Mark Tuan x Reader, Werewolf!Jackson Wang x Reader, Vampire!Park Jinyoung x Reader, Supernatural!Got7 x Reader

genre: Supernatual!AU, Dark Magic!AU, very heavy Angst, eventual Smut

warnings: Mature language, violence, explicit descriptions of fighting and injury, weapons, blood and gore, brief mention of a mutilated animal corpse, minor character death, description of trauma and mental illness, brief mention of suicide, mentions of murder, satanic themes and ritual, etc. 

Trigger Warning: This chapter does contain graphic and explicit themes regarding violence, trauma, and death. Please do not read if this will harm you. This is your final warning.

word count: 10,6k

synopsis: How far are you willing to go to find out the truth about Moon Dye Bay?…

chapter directory

The nighttime is hushed, almost anxious as Minho maneuvers his way past gravestones and overgrown shrubbery. It’s almost like nature itself is too afraid of accidentally provoking the witch, sensing the torpedo of dark magic and violent sorrow stirring through his veins. He peers up at the crimson moon, grateful for the illumination it provides, and continues down his path—ignorant of the cold air bleeding into his flesh. 

Minho knows this is probably not the best time for a visit, aware that his ex-covenmates are likely plotting some sort of mission to overthrow him, but he doesn’t care—he can’t care anymore. A part of him, the shameful, guilty part of his mind. actually hopes they will succeed, at least then, he would no longer have to endure the pain that comes with bearing this black magic. He can feel its poison rushing through his veins, seering his body from the inside out, killing his soul over and over and over again… 

But isn’t this what he wanted? Revenge? Retribution? Minho performed that spell to hurt the very friends that hurt him—to hurt Mark, and he got his wish… so why does it feel like the world is caving in around him, swallowing him whole? 

Once he reaches his destination, Minho collapses to his knees, unable to bear the weight of his burdens. His eyes burn with tears, but he doesn’t allow himself to cry. A silent gust of wind strokes his cheeks, painting his skin red with bitterness and anger. He welcomes the cold air, accepting the punishment, before lifting his hand to splay his fingers against the even colder surface of the headstone. 

“I’m sorry…” Minho whimpers, “It didn’t have to be like this…” 

The silence heightens his anguish—deepens the wounds in his heart. 

If he could take it all back, he would… but he can’t. 

“I wish you were here, noona…” 

His murmur is lost to the wind, but it doesn’t matter. He climbs back to his feet before sparing one final glance at the burial place of his lost friend. After a deep inhale and a wordless goodbye, Minho turns and hastily begins back toward the mausoleum. 

He was allowed this one moment of weakness—now he must get back to the horrible reality he manifested for himself. 

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“Can you be any more obvious…?” 

Mark quickly awakens from his mindless trance, discovering, to his dismay, Dahyun looking down at him with a single raised, all-knowing eyebrow. He fakes a cough into his elbow before shrugging his shoulders, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“You’re kidding me, right?... You literally haven’t taken your eyes off of her since we met up in the forest.” 

Heat immediately rises to Mark’s cheeks. As if on instinct, his eyes trail back to his subject of interest, watching as you wipe the sweat from Jaebeom’s girlfriend’s forehead and neck before shifting to do the same to Felix. It’s such a simple action, but you somehow look so ethereal—almost like an angel sent from heaven. 

He curses himself for his own cheesiness, then releases a defeated sigh. 

“We got into a pretty big fight earlier.” 

“Then don’t you think you should—I don’t know—talk to her instead of staring her down like a creep?” 

“I think the last thing she wants to do is talk to me.” Mark drags a hand through his hair. “I… said some really stupid shit in the heat of the moment. She probably hates me.” 

Dahyun scoffs, “God, you are such a fucking idiot.” 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“It means you need to get your ass over there and apologize to that girl.” 

Her harsh tone doesn’t falter beneath his glare, nor does her tenacious expression as the two proceed with their silent staring contest. After a minute or two, Dahyun breaks off the competition with a long, heavy sigh. Her eyes are soft when she looks back at him, and suddenly Mark finds the dried mud on his shoes a lot more interesting. 

“Mark, anyone can see how much you care about her—how much she cares about you.” Even when a gentle hand caresses his shoulder, the witch keeps his attention to the floor. “(Y/N) could never hate you—no matter how much stupid shit you pull.” She snickers, “And you pull a lot of stupid shit, so that has to account for something.”

He can’t help the amused chuckle that falls from his own lips. 

“Thanks, Dubu.” Mark says, tilting his head to finally meet the warmth of her gaze. 

“She’s a good one—a really good one, Mark.” The wolf hums, “Don’t let it be your fear that pushes her away.” She doesn’t give him a chance to reply further, pacing to a nearby corner to join a conversing Bang Chan and Yugyeom. 

Sparing the wolf trio one final glance, Mark musters up the remaining courage he has left and pushes from his perch against the kitchen countertop. He forces himself to walk in your direction—each step releasing more butterflies into the confines of his stomach. Once he reaches you, close enough to touch your turned back, he almost chickens out, content with spending the rest of the night watching you like hawk, but the sound of Felix’s breathy voice locks him in place: 

“—Channie-hyung and I have always wanted to go to Chicago… Is-Is it as windy as they say?” 

“Even windier.” You say with a laugh. “I can’t tell you how many scarves I lost, and don’t get me started on how freaking cold the winters are.”

Felix laughs too, although it resonates as more of a wheeze than anything. 

You shrug, “It’s a gorgeous city though—probably my most favorite place I’ve ever lived.” 

“Then why did you leave? If you loved it so much?” 

Mark’s interest piques when he notices how your figure grows tense at the young boy’s croak. He’s heard his fair share of stories of your heartfelt time in the Windy City, but he never quite figured out why you ultimately decided to move to Moon Dye Bay. You’ve always been reluctant to reveal certain details from your past, especially regarding your time in the foster system, but even then Mark has been able to pry the worst memories from your brain. 

This subject, however, has been a brick wall. 

“Because I couldn’t stay.” You finally answer, “It’s complicated, but something happened and basically I—” 

“(Y/N)?” 

He silently cusses as Felix interrupts your explanation, but his annoyance dissipates at the panicked expression etched along the teenager’s sweaty face. 

“What is it, Felix?” You shift your position on his bedside to better face the boy, leaning forward to place a gentle hand on his forehead. Mark can only imagine how hot the skin is to the touch. 

Felix’s words crack as they leave his lips, slicing at the witch’s heart like a dagger: 

“Am… Am I gonna die?”

“Of course not.” You immediately say, but Mark can sense the uneasiness in your tone. “Everyone is doing everything they can to help you, okay?... You’re gonna get through this, and one day you and your brother are gonna go see Chicago yourselves and try not to get blown away into the next century.” 

Felix sleepily chuckles, “Thanks, (Y/N).” 

“You should get some sleep.” The moment the command leaves your lips, Felix is already closing his eyes and diving headfirst into dreamland. Not wanting to startle you, Mark waits a couple seconds—partly to give you time to regain your composure, and partly to give himself time to think of what to say. However, he doesn’t have much of a choice when you suddenly turn, growing aware of his presence. A frown overtakes your face, and he instantly regrets ever leaving his countertop. 

“Did you need something?” 

“No—yes, I mean—shit.” Mark buries a hand in his tresses to tug at his roots, attempting to juggle between putting together the right spoken words and reminding his body to breathe. “(Y/N), I—” 

“If you came to apologize, I don’t want to hear it.” He helplessly watches as you rise from the bed before tossing your used rag on a nearby table. “I think you made yourself pretty clear back at my apartment.” 

“I shouldn’t have said what I said—” Before you can storm away, Mark latches his fingers around your wrist. “—please. Just give me a chance to explain.” 

Your shoulders rise and fall in a heavy sigh, but you make no move to tear away from his grip and he takes it as a chance to continue: 

“After my mom died, I was so fucking angry…” Mark notices your surprised gaze when you lift your head, but he doesn’t meet your eyes. “I was angry at the world, at her, at myself… and when my magic began to show up, things got a whole lot worse.” He shakes his head, “I thought about just ending it—jump into the bay or maybe drink myself to death—but then I met…” 

“Then you met Jackson.” 

“He taught me how to deal with the anger—to use it as a tool, not a weapon.” His eyes begin to burn at the countless memories that reel through his mind. “It was because of him I learned how to control my powers, and I was able to bring the coven together—hell, he was the one who told them to nominate me as Regent, which right now, seemed like the worst fucking decision on the planet.” 

Mark takes a moment to blink away his tears before taking a seat on an empty cot. He still can’t find it in himself to glance at your face, keeping his eyes trained to the wooden flooring. 

“But when Jackson had an idea, there was no stopping him.” He chuckles sarcastically, “The bastard was as stubborn as a goddamn mule.” 

“What happened to Jackson, Mark?” Your voice is both a sweet lullaby and a screeching siren against his ears. “How did he die? Really?” 

“The initial plan was to infuse enough magic into Jackson’s werewolf form so his venom would be lethal to the Primes, or at the very least, to Jinyoung. It all went smoothly in the beginning, I was able to channel enough power to complete the transformation… but something went wrong—

“—Jackson was different when he shifted. He was ruthless… He didn’t want to just kill the Primes—he wanted to slaughter every vampire along with those who protect the secrets of their existence… no matter if they were witch, werewolf, human—they all deserved to die…

“The combination of his determination and the bloodlust drove him fucking mad… If Jaebeom hadn’t ripped out his heart, there’s telling what he would have done—who he would have killed…” 

Mark leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, attempting to hide his shame beneath the curl of his bangs. “—Jaebeom may have dealt the final blow, but Jackson died because the dark magic I used turned him into a monster—he’s dead because of me…” 

Silence encompasses the room like a vice grip to the throat. For a moment, Mark believes you left him, too disgusted and ashamed to even breathe the same air as him, but the entrance of your worn boots into his vision proves otherwise. The image is replaced by your face when you kneel in front of his broken figure, laying your hands over each bicep. He notices your touch is gentle, but not hesitant, and warm—always so warm. 

“You can’t blame yourself for his death, Mark.” Mark doesn’t realize he’s crying until you wipe a tear from his cheek. “How could you have known what that spell would do? You couldn’t have—”

“Magic always comes with price—especially dark magic.” He whispers, unable to hold back more liquid sadness as it trails down his skin. “(Y/N), if I ever lost you the same way I lost Jackson, my mom, I—” 

Mark’s voice cuts out into a sob, and once your arms wind around his form, he completely breaks, releasing every ounce of repressed sadness and despair and pain into the crook of your neck. He knows he’s selfish for melting into your embrace—for consuming your comfort like a demon expelled from the heavens—but he doesn’t care. 

When you guide his eyes to meet your own, Mark can spot the glassiness of your own orbs in the artificial light—along with enough compassion and ardor to send another flood of tears down his face. 

“I’m not going anywhere, okay?” You affirm, your tone unwavering and stern. “I’m here—and no matter how many times you fall, I’m gonna be here to pick you up…

“I’m here, Mark… Do you understand me?” 

He nods with a sniffle, tightly squeezing your hands between his own. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You smile at his apology. 

“I’m sorry too… for everything.” 

“Just… No more secrets. For real, this time.” 

“For real, this time.” Mark’s heart rate picks up when he suddenly notices how close his face is to yours. From this angle, he can count the constellations glistening within your eyes and map the delicate curves of your facial features. If he were to lean just an inch closer, just one tiny inch, his lips would be on your own—

“Sorry to interrupt, but we have an issue.” At Yugyeom’s statement, you and Mark immediately wrench away from one another, almost as if having been caught engaging in forbidden territory. Mark pretends he doesn’t miss the weight of your hands inside his own as he rises from the cot, making sure to put an appropriate amount of distance between his and your shoulders. 

He clears his throat before humming, “What’s going on?” 

“Chan wants to go and find Chaeyoung’s body.” Although Yugyeom’s face remains neutral, Mark can see the sadness lingering within his eyes at the mention of his fallen packmate. “He doesn’t remember exactly where she was, so him, Dahyun, and I are going to search the forest.” 

You immediately shake your head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Sunrise isn’t for at least another hour, and we have no way of knowing Youngjae broke the curse yet.” 

“I’m with (Y/N) on this one, Gyeom.” Mark agrees, “We’re safest here in the bunker.” 

“We can’t just leave her out there. I mean, she—” Yugyeom cuts himself off with a heavy sigh, before continuing in a softer tone, “You know how it feels to lose someone, hyung… Chaeyoung is—was… our family.” 

Mark takes a moment of silence to ponder, conflicted between his common sense and Yugyeom’s pleading gaze. As you said, sunrise is an hour away—but Youngjae, the coven and the Primes should have overthrown Minho by now, right? Plus, he literally blew Changbin’s head off with that shotgun. There’s no way his body could regenerate that quickly… 

“We’re all staying together.” He finally says, moving toward the kitchenette to grab his weapon from its perch on the counter. “And if anything seems shady, it’s an immediate retreat.” 

Yugyeom delivers a nod before heading off to gather the other wolves. Mark moves toward the bunker exit, but is stopped by your form. A heavy sigh cascades from his lips—just from your expression, he knows this conversation isn’t going to go his way. 

“(Y/N)—” 

“If you’re gonna tell me I can’t go with you, don’t even bother.” 

He shakes his head, “It’s too dangerous…” 

“If someone tells me that one more goddamn time—” He can’t help the tiny smile that spreads across his face at the sassy way you roll your eyes. And he doesn’t protest when you move to follow Dahyun up the ladder. 

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Youngjae inhales a deep breath, taking the moment to feel his lungs expand, before releasing the air in an even deeper exhale. Even with the relaxation attempt, his body remains tense and his thoughts disorderly. He can’t help but feel as if Minho is waiting somewhere in the darkness of the crypt, ready to pounce on him like a predator to its prey. 

Would he toy with his catch first? Or would he skip the pleasantries and go right in for the kill? 

A hand appears on his shoulder, wrenching Youngjae from his morbid daydream. He angles his head to meet Lia’s concerned gaze and immediately tries to mask his fear beneath an expression of indifference. Unsurprisingly, the female witch sees right through his facade:

“I’ve known you practically my whole life, Youngjae. Whatever it is, you can’t hide it from me.” 

His shoulders sag in defeat as a sigh blows past his lips. 

“I’m just… worried about Mark-hyung. He’s powerless out there.”

“Mark is smart—he’ll know what to do if he finds himself in trouble.” 

“And if he doesn’t?... I-I mean, what if Minho or Changbin found him before he could warn the pack? He could be dead for all we know—” 

Lia silences his desperate quip with a shake of her head, “You shouldn’t think like that right now—” 

“What else am I supposed to do?” Youngjae runs a frustrated hand through his hair before gesturing toward the main exit of their underground penitentiary. “Even with yours and Jisung’s energy, I don’t have enough power to take down the barrier spell.” 

“Help is on the way—” 

“How do you know that for sure?” 

Lia remains silent, simply continuing to stare at Youngjae. He feels almost uncomfortable beneath her gaze, resisting the urge to shrink back and become one with the shadows. 

“I don’t know… but I have faith.” She murmurs after a brief moment. “We’ve lost a lot, but I still believe that we’ll all somehow manage to come out of this alive. You should try doing the same.” 

With that, Lia leaves to speak with a dangerously quiet Jisung. Youngjae spares the pair a single glance before heading toward the crypt entryway. A single beam of moonlight illuminates the exit stairway, almost as if mocking him about his inability to escape the dingy prison. 

Youngjae knows Lia is right—of course she’s right. Worrying about the possible pitfalls of this plan won’t help him, or Mark, or anyone. He can only pray that his mentor safely found his way out of the cemetery and is sending backup right this very moment. 

He needs to have hope, if nothing else. 

“What if we somehow lure Minho down here?” Youngjae’s thoughts quiet at Lia’s suggestion, angling his head to meet her gaze. “Technically Youngjae just needs to touch him to siphon his magic… so why don’t we bring him to us?” 

“Minho-hyung won’t step past the barrier.” Jisung dissents, dragging his fingers through his already tousled hair. “He probably knows we’re planning something against him, so there’s no way he’ll believe whatever ruse we try to pull.” 

“Then we have no choice. Youngjae, are you sure you can’t take down the spell?” 

Youngjae sullenly shakes his head. 

“Is there something else you can siphon? Maybe the crypt itself?” 

“The crypt was built by humans.” He answers, “I can only draw power from the supernatural—”

“Then it’s a good thing my dear brother and I weren’t turned into superwolf bait.” 

Youngjae, along with the other witches, nearly leaps a foot in the air at the sudden voice. He whirls around to face the stairwell, which to his surprise, is now occupied by the last person he ever expected to see: 

Im Jaebeom. 

Jisung chokes, scurrying backward into the shadows as the hybrid approaches the trio. After taking purchase against the doorway, he offers his signature sly smirk. 

“Evening, Harry Potter and friends… Funny meeting you down here.” 

“Now is not the time for games, hyung.” Youngjae breathes a sigh of relief as Jinyoung’s voice echoes throughout the stone walls. Seconds later, he comes hustling down the staircase before shoving Jaebeom out of the way. The vampire then peers into the crypt, his gaze burning with the determination of a man at war. “Is anyone hurt?” 

“No. We’re okay.” Lia steps forward. “If you’re here, I’m guessing Mark reached the wolf pack?” 

“Your guess is correct.” Jinyoung nods, placing a hand against the invisible doorway. “My brother and I will do everything we can to help disarm the rogue, but I think it’d be best to free you all first.” 

Youngjae joins the conversation. “I can take down the barrier spell, but I’ll need to draw energy from one of you to do so.” 

“Let’s do this quickly then.” Jinyoung goes to roll up the sleeve of his white shirt, but is halted by his immortal companion. Surprise filters through Youngjae’s veins as Jaebeom shrugs the leather jacket from his shoulders with a huff: 

“With my luck, he’ll drain you dry and I’ll have to deal with this voodoo fucker myself. I think it’s best we use my energy—sorry not sorry.” 

“Alright, then.” Youngjae hums, “I’ll need you to push through the barrier just enough that I can touch you… It’s gonna hurt. A lot.” 

“Good thing I’m a sadomasochist.” Jaebeom snickers at his brother’s unamused expression, “Too much?” 

“Move your hand through that goddamn barrier before I throw you to the superwolf myself.” 

The hybrid rolls his eyes, but follows Jinyoung’s instructions and proceeds to force his limb past the invisible blockade. He remains silent, but Youngjae can spy the uncomfortable twitch of his eyebrow and the tension along his stone-cold features. Blood begins to bud along his knuckles like a patch of blooming roses before flowing down his pale skin the more he presses against the barrier.

The siphoner raises his hand in preparation. “Just a bit more.” 

A mere couple seconds later, Youngjae feels Jaebeom’s bloody flesh brush against his own. The skin-to-skin contact is slight, but enough, allowing the hybrid’s energy to spread through his veins like wildfire. Youngjae almost cries in relief as the magic conquers his entire body—a new kind of hope sparking somewhere within his chest. 

“Phasmatos Siprum… Emnis Abortum…” Youngjae murmurs, positioning both hands against the invisible wall. He feels it crumbling beneath his fingertips, unable to withstand the power flowing through his figure. “Fasila Quisa Exilum San… Fasila Quisa Exilum San…”

A proud grin stretches along his features as the barrier buckles, then completely shatters. With Lia and Jisung in tow, Youngjae beelines out of the crypt and into the stairwell where Jaebeom, who’s cleaning the crimson from his knuckles, and Jinyoung reside. The latter nods, which Youngjae is quick to return. 

“‘Kay, they’re free… Now what?” 

“Now we find Minho and end this once and for all.” Lia answers, not sparing the hybrid a glance as she dashes up the stairs. Youngjae and the rest of the group try to keep up with the female witch as best as they can, not faltering until they reach the surface. The cemetery is quiet when they emerge from the crypt, Youngjae notices—almost too quiet. 

He takes a short moment to breathe in the fresh night air before turning to a tense Jinyoung, “I need to get close enough to siphon Minho’s magic to perform the counterspell. You think you and your brother can find me a way in?” 

Jinyoung nods. “You can count on us.” 

“Stay close…” Lia warns with a sigh, “I wouldn’t be surprised if the bastard already knows we’re free—” 

Lightning suddenly strikes a mere few feet from where Lia is standing, earning a chorus of screams and surprised gasps from the witch trio. Youngjae watches as Jinyoung speeds forward, grabbing Lia just in time to avoid being burnt to a crisp by a second bolt. With Jisung at his side, Youngjae quickly takes shelter underneath the overhang of a nearby tomb as even more lightning bombards the earth. He surveys the area, searching for the perpetrator responsible for the weather abnormalities. 

“Minho!...” Lia screeches from behind a large tree, her tone far less than friendly. “Quit being a fucking coward! Come out here and face us goddamnit!...” 

Youngjae huddles closer to Jisung as the wind suddenly picks up, ripping at his hair and clothing like a vengeful spirit. He moves to speak to his younger companion, but his words die on his tongue as the subject of the hour waltzes into view. The heavy gusts don’t seem to affect him, though that’s no surprise since the wretched weather is his doing. 

Minho smirks, “They say lightning never strikes one place twice… You must be really special then, Lia.” 

“Oh fuck off! We’re tired of playing your stupid games!” 

“This only ends one way, Minho—” Jinyoung says, cautiously moving from Lia’s side to approach the powerful witch. His steps, however, are halted by another vicious bolt of electricity. Youngjae attempts to make out Jaebeom’s form through the blurriness of his wind-induced tears, but the hybrid is nowhere to be found. “—so we can do it the easy way, or the hard way! The choice is yours!” 

“Last I checked, this isn’t your fight, Prime.”

“It became my fight the moment you threatened my family and my friends!” 

Minho snickers, “Trust me, I had every intention of ridding this town of you and your brother’s filth.” 

“Was it also your intention to kill an innocent werewolf girl!?” Youngjae’s heart drops at the vampire’s following statement. “Son Chaeyoung is dead because of Changbin—because of you!” 

“Every war has its casualties.” 

“And what of Felix!? Will his death just be another trivial loss in your obsession for revenge!?” 

This time, Youngjae notices the cockiness melt from Minho’s features into something akin to trepidation. The wailing of the wind picks up to a screech, nearly drowning out the dark-haired witch’s weak inquiry, “What are you talking about?”

“Felix was bitten… and is dying as we speak!” Jinyoung shakes his head frantically. “Do you believe he deserves this, Minho!? Do you believe Chaeyoung deserved to die!?... You can fix this—make this right!” 

Minho remains silent, and for a moment, Youngjae wonders if the witch will actually come to his senses and call off this whole ordeal. But just as soon as it appeared, the pained look along his features transitions into something more sinister.   

“We’re all gonna die someday, so what does it even fucking matter!?” 

“Are you hearing yourself!?” Lia screams from behind a nearby tree, “Look what you’ve become, Minho! How would Nayeon see you right now!” 

“Don’t bring her into this!” Minho’s hiss blends with the moans of the wind. Massive raindrops begin to pelt down against the earth, immediately soaking Youngjae to the bone. For the first time, he notices the dark witch’s position in relation to his own. Realistically, Youngjae can be at Minho’s side in mere milliseconds, before he has a chance to blink. If only he can get him to move a bit closer… 

As if reading his thoughts, Jinyoung attempts to coax the witch another step forward. 

“Please, Minho… I don’t wish to hurt you.”

The latter shakes his head with a chuckle. “It’s too fucking bad that you think you can.” 

Minho raises his hand, harshly forcing the vampire down against the muddy earth. Youngjae watches in horror as Jinyoung’s limbs begin to contort and rearrange against his own will—the sound of cracking bones and the vampire’s pained groans filling his ears like a haunting melody. He forces his gaze away from the gruesome sight and prepares to advance on the dark witch, but Jisung stops him with a hand to his shoulder: 

“Not yet, hyung.” 

“But Jinyoung—” 

“Trust me.” His eyes are wide with determination—Youngjae can’t remember a time he’s ever seen Jisung so fierce. “I have a plan. Wait here until my signal.” 

Though filled with confusion, Youngjae does as the young witch requests and stays in place while Jisung himself carefully maneuvers his way through gravestones and buildings, attempting to remain out of sight. A sudden burst of lightning cracks through the atmosphere, and at first, Youngjae fears Jisung has been caught, but quickly realizes Minho has his sights set on another party: 

“I was wondering when you’d join the fun—I looked forward to tearing your bitch-ass apart.” 

“I would say I’m flattered, but I rather like my ass.” Jaebeom saunters across a nearby rooftop. In the midst of the storm, he almost reminds Youngjae of a superhero—or more likely in his case, the psychotic supervillain. “Look, you’ve had your fun, kid. Now I suggest you release my brother and cut out all this petty-teenage bullshit before I break your body in places you never thought possible.” 

“That’s it?... And here I thought you’d want the antidote?” 

Jaebeom’s face darkens. 

“...So there is a cure?” 

“Of course. Every spell has its loophole.” Minho finally lowers his hand, ceasing the painful reconstruction of Jinyoung’s skeleton. Youngjae watches in confusion as the former retracts something from his pocket—some sort of vial, it seems—and offers it toward the hybrid. “The blood which Changbin drank to turn—it’ll heal anyone fallen victim to his bite.” 

“You better hand that over before I rip your teeth from your skull.” Jaebeom growls darkly, hopping down from his overhead perch.

The witch shakes his head, “Not so fast, Mr. Wolf… See, there was only so much left—enough to heal one lucky soul.” 

“You’re a sick fucking bastard,” Jaebeom spits. “You wanted this to happen—”

“Your little bloodsucking girlfriend is dying, isn’t she?” Minho tosses the vial toward the hybrid, who effortlessly catches it between two trembling fingers. “If you want to save her life, then I suggest you go before the venom does its job.” 

“Jaebeom-hyung, don’t—!” Jinyoung gasps, slithering across the muddy earth like an earthworm lost to the world. 

“You know she doesn’t have much time—” 

“We can’t do this without you—we need you!... I need you, hyung!”  

Jaebeom, staring at the tiny container in his grasp, doesn’t reply to his incapacitated companion. Youngjae curses the smirk that spreads across Minho’s face—a sign of victory—and attempts to spot Jisung and Lia somewhere between the ferocious raindrops. He has no such luck, and instead decides to pray for a miracle instead. 

“If you hadn’t fucked around with the few people I care about, I might have actually liked you.” Jaebeom murmurs with a sigh before tucking the vial into his pocket and sending the dark witch a malicious sneer. “Well isn’t that too fucking bad.” 

Youngjae leaps almost ten feet in the air as lightning strikes for what seems like the millionth time, although this time, it’s inches from where Minho is standing. After searching the area, Youngjae discovers Lia and Jisung across the way, hands clasped, eyes bright with passion, uttering some sort of offensive charm. Minho attempts to sprint in the opposite direction, but Jaebeom easily tackles the witch before he can get far. 

“Now Youngjae-hyung! Do it now!” 

At Jisung’s cue, Youngjae takes off into the rain. The bitter feel of Mother Nature’s tears against his skin quickens his movements, wanting nothing more then to end this hurricane, both literally and figuratively, once and for all. He reaches Minho in what seems like hours and hurries to grab his wrist—but just like the tides during a storm, the tables quickly turn. 

At the wave of Minho’s hand, Jaebeom goes flying across the cemetery, crashing into a stone statue and collapsing into the resulting rumble. White-hot pain spreads through Youngjae’s veins like a poison, freezing his muscles and immobilizing his limbs from any further movement. He collapses to the ground, where mud immediately clings to his clothing.

Minho rises to his feet before stepping on Youngjae’s hand with a cackle, “Don’t you fuckers get it!? I’m untouchable! You can’t fucking win!” 

“That’s where you’re wrong, Minho…” Youngjae chuckles, curling his fingers around the tread of the dark witch’s boot. Minho realizes his mistake as soon as the former’s hand begins to glow, foolishly attempting to squirm from his touch. 

Thunder roars in the distance as Youngjae grins in triumph: 

“Because unlike you… we’re not alone.” 

The last thing Youngjae sees before he loses consciousness is a flash of white and the bewildered face of the dark witch as he collapses beside him.   

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“I take it Mark apologized?...” You nearly leap out of your own skin at the sudden inquiry. With a less than agitated frown, you turn to acknowledge the culprit for your almost heart attack. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear some of these supernaturals have powers of teleportation or something… 

“Goddamnit, Dahyun. Not all of us have superwolf hearing.” 

“Sorry, dearie. Force of habit.” The she-wolf offers an apologetic smile, moving forward to hook her arm with your own. She allows Yugyeom, Chan and Mark to gain a bit of distance ahead before repeating again, “So Mark…?” 

“We both talked it out and apologized… so everything’s okay now.” You hum—the tiny fib leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. 

Truthfully, your encounter with Mark left you conflicted. Of course, you’re more than glad he finally opened up about his past, and even more glad that he trusts you enough to reveal his lingering feelings of trauma, but there’s still a pretty big fucking elephant in the room—one involving his dead best friend and the fact you can talk to him beyond the grave. 

You should have told him then and there—right after you promised to abolish all secrets—but something inside you couldn’t do it… and you don’t know why. 

“Why are you so interested in Mark and I’s relationship anyway?” You utilize your curiosity as a distraction from the guilt breathing down your neck, angling your neck to peer at Dahyun’s side profile. “Is there… history between you two?” 

“No, no—nothing like that. Mark and I have just known each other since we were kids. Our moms were close friends, so Mark, Yugyeom and I pretty much grew up together.” 

“He never told me that.” 

“Don’t take it personal, sweetheart. Mark doesn’t like to talk about his past—” Dahyun sighs, “—too many bad memories between his dad and the bullshit that happened with his mom. He’ll come around eventually… he just needs more time.” 

“I know his mom passed when he was a teenager, but Mark never actually mentioned how she died…” You bite your lip, sending a curious glance to your wolf companion. “It’s really not fair to ask you, but—” 

“Mark found her in their own kitchen with her entire throat ripped open.” Dahyun’s blunt answer leaves your throat dry, unable to speak another word if you wanted to. “The sheriff ruled it as an animal attack, but I’m sure you’re smart enough to figure out what really happened.” 

Your heart sinks, and you choose not to say anything further. 

“Dahyun! (Y/N)! Don’t get too far behind!” Chan’s voice echoes from somewhere up ahead. With the black of night beginning to fade, you can just make out his, Yugyeom, and Mark’s silhouettes a couple dozen feet away. Dahyun gives your forearm a gentle squeeze before releasing your conjoined limbs to catch up with her packmates. You do the same, meeting an armed Mark about halfway. 

His eyes glitter with concern underneath the fading starlight. 

“Everything okay…?” 

“Yeah, Dahyun and I were just catching up.” You inhale a deep breath before releasing it in an even heavier exhale. “But there is something I need to talk to you about—about Jackson and the whole resurrection thing.” 

Mark shakes his head, “You have every right to make your own decisions, (Y/N), but I wish you and Youngjae would have come to me.” 

“I know that, but it was more complicated than that—” You try to gather your thoughts while also attempting to make sense of your words. “I couldn’t tell you because, well—because Jackson told—” 

“Mark-hyung! We’ve got an issue!” Yugyeom’s warning immediately cuts off your explanation. Mark shoots you an apologetic glance before hurrying the two of you forward to join the wolf trio. It only takes seconds for you to distinguish the cause of the beta’s distress. 

A deer carcass lays precariously on the forest floor, and albeit it’s practically torn to shreds, you can just make out a single word carved into its bloody flesh: 

Die. 

“Shit—we need to go. Now.” 

“We’ve already come this far. Chae should be around here somewhere.” Chan ignores Mark’s directive, stepping over the animal corpse to traverse further through the forest. He barely takes a step before the witch is grabbing his wrist. “Let me go, hyung.” 

“Don’t be an idiot.” 

“Don’t tell me what to—”

“Shut the fuck up. Both of you.” Dahyun quietly hisses, “Listen.” 

You try to do as the she-wolf says, but all that meets your ears is the combination of your own labored breathing and uneven pulse. Judging by the confused expression along Mark’s face, he’s probably dealing with the same situation. 

“What is it?” 

“We’re being watched.” Yugyeom answers Mark’s inquiry in a whisper. “Mark, you and (Y/N) need to find somewhere to hide right now—Chan, Dubu, get ready to fight—”

As soon as the command leaves Yugyeom’s lips, Mark takes you by the arm and drags you behind a broad tree trunk. You fish Jinyoung’s pocket knife from your pocket while Mark cocks his shotgun in preparation. Who knew the day would come that you’d actually be grateful for the presence of two dangerous weapons…  

“If anything goes wrong—you run like hell, got it?” 

You shake your head at Mark’s demand. “I’m not just going to leave you—”  

“Yugyeom! Above you!” At Chan’s warning, you’re suddenly shoved to the ground by the witch, watching in horror as a deranged Changbin descends from the treetops onto the beta himself. His skin is a sickly ashen shade, and his black veins so prominent it would make a nurse weep. There’s no human emotion left inside his dark eyes as he strikes Yugyeom over and over again with his lengthy sharp talons, tearing open his skin like a birthday present—he’s a complete animal. 

“Bin, stop!” Chan throws his arms around Changbin’s shoulders in an attempt to pull him from Yugyeom, winding a tight arm around his throat before thrusting a knee against his spine. “Think about what you’re doing!” 

With Dahyun’s assistance, the two wolves manage to separate the dark wolf from that of Yugyeom’s wounded self. Even so, Changbin clearly does not appreciate being stolen away from his prey. He easily escapes from Chan’s hold, landing a couple heavy hits against the latter’s nose before shoving him to the ground. Dahyun takes the moment to strike, bringing the dark wolf to kneel with a harsh kick to his knee, but the action does minimal damage. Changbin punts the she-wolf a dozen feet away as if she weighs nothing. You wince as Dahyun connects with a nearby tree trunk with a vocal thud before dropping to the ground with no movements of rejoining the fight. 

“Shit…” You curse to yourself, “They won’t be able to take him down by themselves—he’s too fucking strong.” 

“Watch your ears.”  You notice Mark aiming his gun toward the dark wolf, waiting for an opportunity with his finger on the trigger. At his discretion, you cover your ears just in time for him to fire a first and second shot. A ferocious growl echoes through the trees, spreading goosebumps across your flesh like wildfire. 

You watch both Chan and Yugyeom take advantage of Changbin’s distraction. The alpha delivers a swift, yet heavy hit against his wounded shoulder while the beta goes for his legs. Similar to Dahyun, they manage to pin Changbin to the forest floor. For a moment, you almost believe the fight has concluded in your team’s favor—but the tides shift. In the blink of an eye, Chan is impaled with a large jagged branch and sent tumbling into some foliage whereas Yugyeom is dealt punch after strike after kick, unable to escape the barrage of Changbin’s wrath. He eventually, like the former two, collapses to the earth and makes no move to rise. 

Changbin cracks his neck before stalking toward where you and your companion stand. 

“Mark—” 

“I got it!” Mark quickly feeds another couple shells into the shotgun barrel, cocks the weapon, then aims down sight. He manages to sink a bullet into your target’s abdomen, followed by another in his bicep, but Changbin merely releases an annoyed snarl and continues charging forward. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—(Y/N), move!” You leap out of the way just in time to avoid a powerful strike. Changbin’s hand splinters the trunk of the tree, sending pieces of bark in every direction. A particular shard catches the bridge of your nose, causing blood to warmly cascade down your skin. You quickly wipe the liquid from your right eye, ignoring the nausea fluttering inside your gut, before focusing back on the situation at hand. 

You look up in time to watch Mark swing his shotgun harshly against Changbin’s skull. Taking advantage of his disorientation, you rush forward to stab your pocket knife into the wolf’s back. Changbin practically roars in fury, angling backward to land a hit to your face before you have time to react. The force of his strike throws you to the ground, a sharp pain lingering in your left cheek. 

“Don’t fucking touch her!” Mark throws himself against Changbin, delivering hit after hit to anything and anywhere. Still, Mark’s human strength does little to outbeat the dark wolf, and you watch in horror as Changbin effortlessly pins the witch against his chest with a bloody hand around his throat.  You desperately search for something, anything, in hopes of saving Mark from whatever deadly fate awaits Changbin’s bloodlust, but fate doesn’t seem to be on your side.

“Changbin—please don’t do this!” You cry, praying to some type of deity that the wolf is sane enough to understand your words. Even so, your confidence is low, seeing as talking clearly had no effect during your last encounter, but you’re fresh out of options at this point. “You know this isn’t who you are!” 

To your surprise, Changbin actually answers, “You don’t know anything about me.” 

“Maybe not, but I know you don’t actually want to hurt anyone…” You cautiously rise to your feet with a shake of your head, wary of the tight hold Changbin currently has on Mark’s jugular. “Your thoughts are all sorts of fucked up right now because of the dark magic, so why don’t you just let Mark go and we can—” 

“Don’t you fucking get it! This fucker—” He yanks at Mark with more force than necessary, “—took everything from me! He took my pack, my alpha—the only people I ever felt safe with!” 

“I understand you—” 

“No, you don’t!” Changbin wails, “You can’t even imagine how I feel! How fucking hard it is to wake up in a world you know you’ll never belong! How much it fucking hurts just to go on and pretend like everything’s normal when it’s fucking not!” 

“Tell him it’s okay to feel angry—” You whirl your head around to find a seemingly exhausted, yet wild-eyed Jackson Wang at your side. “—but none of this was Mark’s fault.” 

You’re mortified at first, having never encountered the ghost anywhere outside your bedroom—but whether it’s the desperation etched along his features, or the flush of purple that overtakes Mark’s complexion—you quickly transfer back to reality: 

“Changbin, it’s perfectly normal to feel angry and cheated, but this wasn’t Mark’s fault—deep down, I think you know that.”

“What does it fucking matter anymore? I’m all alone anyways.” The pure agony etched along his face has your heart splitting in two. 

You’ve never seen a creature so strong and so powerful look so… vulnerable. 

“You said the exact same thing to me when we first met…” Jackson murmurs softly.

“You told Jackson you were alone at one point too…” 

An obvious wave of tense silence washes through the forest, making the beat of your heart that much more prominent in your ears. 

Changbin’s whisper is dark—dangerous. “How the fuck do you know that?” 

“Because… Because he’s here, Changbin.” You say, your eyes meeting Mark’s as the words leave your tongue. “You’re not alone because Jackson is still here.” 

You don’t know what kind of reaction you expected from your revelation, but it certainly is not the heinous laughter that spills from the dark wolf’s lips. 

“You must have lost your goddamn mind… Jackson-hyung is dead!” 

“Maybe physically, but his spirit still remains.” 

“You mean—” You turn to discover a bewildered Yugyeom unsteadily leaning against a tree, “—his… ghost? You—You can see his ghost?” 

You nod.   

Changbin sneers with a low growl. “I don’t fucking believe you.” 

“There’s a cliffside back along the bay about twenty miles from the lodge,” Jackson begins, his tone a blend of nostalgic and sorrowful. “Changbin and I used to go there to watch the full moon rise before we turned into our wolf forms… I-I’ve missed that so much…” 

“You and Jackson would always watch the full moon rise on a cliff overlooking the bay before you transitioned,” You repeat. “He says he misses those moments with you…”

“Stop it!” Changbin frantically shakes his head, “You’re lying!” 

“He’s here, Changbin… He’s really here.” You move forward again, more confidently this time, and raise your hands in a sympathetic gesture. “And the last thing he wants is for you to make the same mistakes he did, so please—let Mark go and let us help you…” 

It’s as if time freezes for a moment. Changbin seems to fight a battle with himself—countless emotions rushing through his teary eyes. You watch the dark wolf glance toward an unconscious Dahyun and Chan, then to a silent Yugyeom, before finally setting his focus back to you. You can only pray your face reflects the hope swirling throughout your veins—pray that Changbin will do the right thing. 

To your delight, the blackness of his veins gradually begin to fade and the sharp claws protruding from his fingertips recede. You don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until Changbin finally retracts his hold from Mark’s neck. You’re quick to take the unsteady witch in your own arms before sending the now normal wolf a thankful smile. 

“Thank you, Changbin…” 

He nods shyly before wiping a couple tears from his cheeks. You watch as Yugyeom cautiously makes his way toward the younger boy, murmurs something, then tugs the latter into a tight embrace that pulls even more liquid sadness from his eyes. The sight has your heart melting into a puddle of warmth—the emotion doesn’t last though, not when Mark’s dark croak enters your ears:

“You… can see Jackson…” 

You shrug sheepishly, “I wanted to tell you, but he said not to… He didn’t want to hurt you anymore than he already had.” 

Mark remains silent. You try to search for his features for some kind of anger or disappointment, but are only awarded with his surface level blank stare. Worry flooding through your veins, you look to Jackson for any possible guidance, but the ghost merely shakes his head. 

After a couple tense seconds or so, Mark finally murmurs, “Jack… I—I’m so sorry. For everything.” 

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Jackson says immediately, “If only I had listened to you, then maybe things would have played out different.” 

“He says it wasn’t your fault—he should have listened to you.”

“We both made some pretty shitty mistakes.” Mark hums, “I miss you, man. So fucking much.” 

You don’t wait for Jackson to reply, already knowing his answer. 

“He misses you too, Mark. Just as much.”

“How is this even possible…?” You and Mark turn to find the shocked gaze of Yugyeom, who is closely followed by the despair of that belonging to Changbin. “Supernaturals can’t even see spirits, much less mortals…” 

“We never exactly figured that out. Jackson said he felt drawn to me from the Other Side—he kind of just showed up in my bedroom the night after Mina and Momo died.” 

“Any contact with the dead usually requires some sort of spell or medium.” Mark bites his lip in confusion. “I’ve never seen anything like this before, not even in any of my mother’s grimoires—”

“Jackson!” Your body grows rigid as Jackson suddenly collapses to the ground with a pained groan. You hurry forward, kneeling next to the man, and reach for his shoulder. The realization of his phantom existence hits you like a bag of bricks when your fingers phase through his form. You settle for calling his name again instead, “Jackson—what’s wrong?” 

“What the hell is going on?” You hear Changbin stress from somewhere behind you, but your focus is completely on the ghost in question. 

Jackson lifts his head with a gasp, revealing a line of blood dripping from his nose. “I-It’s the witches!... They know about our plans—they’re trying to force me back to the Other Side—”

“(Y/N)?” 

You shake your head feverishly, “It’s, uh, it’s the witches on the Other Side—they don’t like Jackson crossing over, so they’re trying to bring him back…” 

Mark nods. “Witches, dead or alive, will do anything to maintain the balance of nature.” 

“(Y/N)—shit—I don’t have a lot of time—” Your chest tightens at the urgency behind Jackson’s words. “I know so much just went down, but—” 

“Don’t worry, Jack. I won’t let you disappear again.” You affirm before climbing to your feet to face your new subject of interest. “Mark—I need you to perform the resurrection spell.” 

“Woah, wait—” Mark shakes his head, “(Y/N), I can’ t—” 

“If we don’t resurrect him now, then Jackson is gone forever!” Your warning spreads a new tension across the atmosphere, manifesting in the form of sullen and panicked expressions. “Please, Mark—we have a chance to bring him back!” 

“I can’t do the spell because I don’t have any magic…” Your heart sinks at Mark’s revelation. “Minho absorbed all my magical energy back at the graveyard… I’m so sorry, Jackson…” 

“Hold on, you told me that there’s different types of magic…” You push, “Can’t you draw energy from something? Like the forest, or the moon, or, or—”

“Or me.” You turn, discovering the speaker of the response to be none other than a determined Changbin. “Minho-hyung’s spell may be gone, but I can still feel the magical energy lingering through my body.” 

Mark hesitates, “I-I don’t know if it will work… and if something goes wrong—” 

“Do you want Jackson-hyung back or not?...” 

A moment of silence passes after Changbin’s question. You keep an eye on a repeatedly wincing Jackson, and the other on the witch’s face, attempting to decipher his thoughts inside the glow of his gaze. For a moment, you wonder if Mark will even provide an answer, until the words finally leave his lips: 

“Fuck the balance of nature. I’ll bring you back, Jackson—I promise.” 

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Jinyoung stares at the sun as it gradually rises past the horizon, bathing his skin in a warm, celebratory light. His gaze wavers across the cemetery to the notorious mausoleum, where he watches Lia and Jisung carefully assist a barely conscious Youngjae past the doorway. After this crazy night, the siphoner definitely deserves a good, long rest. Then again, so does everyone else. 

He releases a heavy sigh before shifting away from the witch trio. After sparing one final glance to the sunrise, Jinyoung allows his feet to carry him through the early morning glow, past countless tombstones and other structures, and settles beside a second figure in front of a particular burial site. He silently reads the engravings along the headstone before addressing his companion without so much as a glimpse: 

“I assumed you would be halfway back to the bunker by now.” 

Jaebeom doesn’t respond, not that Jinyoung really expects him to. He peers at the hybrid through the corner of his eye, attempting to seek meaning beyond his blank features. Centuries later, Jinyoung still can’t predict the workings of Jaebeom’s inner thoughts. Especially when it comes to the situation at hand. 

“Mark called. Changbin is no longer affected by Minho’s spell.” He explains, “They’re also preparing a ritual to resurrect Jackson Wang—” 

“Tzuyu…?” 

Jinyoung’s chest tightens as the name falls from Jaebeom’s lips. 

“Their youngest, Ryujin, is looking after both her and Felix.”

“So she’s still alive…?” 

“It seems so.” 

A brief moment of silence passes between the pair. The earth grows brighter and brighter as the seconds roll by, reminding Jinyoung that time is a friend to no one. 

“Hyung, did you… truly switch off your humanity?” 

“I did, at first.” Jaebeom’s answer is quiet, and Jinyoung can detect the subtle hint of vulnerability hidden beneath his gruff tone. “But I guess I can never completely turn it off.” 

“It’s alright to feel, hyung—be it anger… or passion… or fear…” 

Jinyoung notices Jaebeom shift uncomfortably before glancing down at the glass vial in the palm of his hand. For once, he can actually distinguish the emotions present within the hybrid’s dark eyes. The knowledge only jabs at his heart. 

“Everything is taken care of, right?” 

“The night has ended, and Minho is safely sealed away in the crypt.” Jinyoung nods, “We live to see another day.”

He watches his companion tuck the precious vial into the pocket of his jeans before turning away from the headstone. Jinyoung is not sure where the urge comes from, but he abandons his perch, grabbing Jaebeom’s shoulder before he can leave the cemetery. He ignores the hybrid’s confused expression and pulls him into a tight embrace. 

“Thank you for staying, hyung…” Jinyoung’s murmur is slightly muffled against the fabric of his jacket, but he knows his companion heard them loud and clear. 

Jaebeom hesitates for a moment, clearly taken aback by the sudden act, but eventually winds his arms loosely around Jinyoung’s back with a gentle murmur of his own:

“You will always be my family, Jinyoung… Always and forever…”  

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“I’ve never used magic like this before, so I can’t promise this will work.” Mark glances to where he assumes Jackson’s spirit is located inside the white circle makeshifted out of a bag of flour Dahyun managed to find in a bunker cabinet, before glancing to the companion at his side. “You sure you’re up for this? It’ll feel like I’m literally sucking the life force out of your body…” 

Changbin nods, “If it means bringing Jackson-hyung back.” 

“Okay, then.” Mark turns to the surrounding crowd next, “In order to do this, I’ll need to lower the veil to the Other Side. This will create a temporary door that Jackson can pass through to physically enter our realm. Once he crosses over, he should become mortal again.” 

“Seems easy enough.” Dahyun snickers, although the sound is dry and forced. “Anything else we need to know?” 

“Whatever happens, do not enter the circle.” His eyes drift from the she-wolf to your silent form. As if sensing the scrutiny, your gaze connects with his own, and knowing he has your attention, Mark continues in a darker tone, “Just as spirits can pass into our realm, we can cross to the Other Side… so for the love of god, don’t do anything stupid.”

Your and Mark’s staring contest ceases when your head snapes toward the circle. Seconds later, you break the tense silence with a soft murmur, “Jackson says it’s getting worse. He can feel the witches trying to drag him back.” 

“Then I guess that’s our cue.” He sighs before nodding toward the circle one last time, “I’m gonna do my best, Jack. Just hold on.” 

With one final glance to the grimoire you gave him earlier, Mark inhales a deep breath and takes Changbin’s outstretched hand into his own. He closes his eyes, focusing every part of his brain on the electrifying sensation of the magical energy coursing through the wolf’s body. Bit by bit, he feels Changbin’s power bleeding into his own veins, awakening the slumbering supernatural nature of his soul. Once he’s sure enough he’s acquired enough magic, Mark opens his eyes and begins the incantation: 

“Vita mortem, mortem vita est… Partis inferioris velum, partis inferioris ante illum vetum…” Almost instantly, the wind picks up while the air grows uncomfortably cold. He ignores the violent shivers wracking through his limbs and proceeds to repeat the words as the temperature continues to drop. With each spoken syllable, Mark’s head becomes dizzy and his flesh feels as if it’s being scorched off, but he continues. 

No amount of pain could ever dull the hope of seeing his best friend alive once more.

“Holy shit—it’s actually working!” 

Mark doesn’t realize he had shut his eyes until he opens them, nearly yelping in delight when he discovers the image of said friend standing in the center of the white circle. Jackson looks no different than the day he last saw him, and he can’t decide if he wants to laugh out of irony or burst into tears. 

“The veil is down! I’m gonna start the spell to cross you over!” Mark yells over the howling of the wind, clutching Changbin’s hand tighter as he transitions to the next phase of the spell. “Ohto eestanay as vazat esvet ohnaz eespalit… Ohto eestanay as vazat esvet—fuck!” 

A brutal force comes down against his head, almost resembling that of a punch, before spreading hot fire down his neck and to the rest of his body. Mark doubles over with a wheeze, attempting to fight against the painful sensations by grounding himself in Changbin’s touch. However, as soon as the first wave concludes, a second, even more excruciating one follows. He feels as if someone is trying to crush his brain—to kill him from the inside out. 

“Mark-hyung! What’s wrong!?” 

“It’s the witches!...” Mark is thankful that Jackson answers Yugyeom’s panicked inquiry, “They’re trying to break the spell!” 

“Like… hell they will…” Mark hisses, righting himself with a pained groan before grabbing Changbin’s other hand. “I’m not going down without a fight—hold on!...” 

He jumps back into the spell, weakening the manipulated pain through the absorption of more of the wolf’s energy. Borderline high off the power, he pushes everything he has into the ritual, determined to see it through to the end. After a minute that passes like a decade, Mark detects a shift in the atmosphere, indicating the near completion of the spell, and shouts: 

“Jackson—get out of the circle! Get out now!” 

As if in slow motion, Mark watches Jackson quickly move to escape the white border. But just as soon as his toe brushes the edge, he is wrenched away and lifted from the ground. 

Dahyun cries, “What the hell is happening!?”

“They won’t let me cross over!” Jackson squirms and writhes, attempting to escape whatever invisible grip is holding him hostage. His efforts are futile, and he continues to rise higher and higher off of the ground. 

“Hang on, Jack!” Mark releases Changbin’s hands and raises his own palms in Jackson’s direction. However, the same torturous pain from before returns once more, hitting his nerves like a sledgehammer to a brick wall, and throws him to the earth. “Shit—no! H-He has to pass through the circle!” 

“(Y/N)! Don’t!” 

Mark raises his gaze at Dahyun’s shriek, only to watch in horror as you rush past the flour boundary and grab hold of Jackson’s hand. A blinding light immediately erupts from your clasped palms, expanding through the area until all Mark can see is white. 

After a long moment, his vision eventually returns, and he finds the forest completely silent. The temperature is no longer frigid, he notices, and the strain within his brain is gone. For a moment, Mark is filled with prowess, victorious at the fact he successfully carried out an ancient resurrection ritual, however, his triumph is temporary, especially when he notices your form laid motionless in Dahyun’s arms. 

“(Y/N)—fuck!” Mark hurries to where you lay, stealing your figure from the she-wolf to cradle you in his own hold. “Shit, shit, shit—she’s not breathing! Fucking goddamnit!” 

His panic only grows tenfold when he hears the murmur cascade from Dahyun’s lips: 

“Mark… where’s Jackson?”

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Jaebeom scales the final rung of the ladder before making his way toward the corner where the snoozing trio resides. He moves cautiously, mindful not to awaken the young werewolf caretaker, yet eventually finds himself perched on the edge of a familiar cot. His heart thunders inside his chest, and he cannot tell if it’s out of anxiety or hope. Though at this moment, Jaebeom can really care less to find out. 

“It’s about time you showed up…” He winces at the broken husk of his companion’s voice, attempting to keep his expression as neutral as possible. “I thought you were actually going to leave me to die in the hands of a neurotic teenage wolf…” 

Jaebeom doesn’t respond to her quip—he can’t find it in himself to do so. 

Tzuyu raises an eyebrow, “What’s with the face? Did you take down the witch or not?” 

“We did.” He hums, “The spell is broken.”

“Good thing—” The vampire pauses to cough, and the sound is like broken glass against his ears. “—you and your brother are safe for the eternity to come.” 

“Tzuyu… I found the cure.” 

“What are you waiting for then? My consent?” She snickers playfully, “We fuck for over a century and this is the most gentlemanly behavior I’ve ever seen from you, Beomie.”

Again, Jaebeom remains silent. 

Recognizing the obvious tension in the room, Tzuyu’s face falls. “But… I guess it’s more complicated than that, hm?” 

“There’s only enough for…” He’s unable to finish his sentence, not when his companion’s eyes are gazing at him with such sullenness and sympathy. Jaebeom has to look away for a moment, though the action does little to relieve the tightness of his chest. 

“Ah, I see.” Tzuyu hums, glancing across the way to a slumbering Felix. Her pale lips twitch, as if attempting to upturn to a smile, but it instead appears as a weak grimace. “You know, I really never meant to hurt (Y/N)… or you.” 

“Tzuyu—”

“I’ve known you for decades… but I’ve never seen you look at someone the way you look at her.” Another violent cough wracks through her body, expelling a mass of dark blood past her lips. Jaebeom is quick to wipe the splotch from her skin with the blanket, trying not to dwell on the fact that her skin is ice cold. “I’ll admit, I was jealous at first… I’ve always wanted someone to look at me like that… 

“I know you’re afraid to care—to love, Jaebeom.” Tzuyu murmurs sadly, lifting a hand to rest against the hybrid’s cheek. “Especially someone like (Y/N)… and you’re right to. She’s too good… too human. 

“One misstep and you could lose her forever.” 

“I want to be selfish…” Jaebeom whispers, “I want to be selfish so fucking bad—”

“But you can’t be, Beom. Not with her.” 

“Then let me be selfish with you.” 

Tzuyu smiles. 

“I’ve lived over three lifetimes, and he is barely a ways into his one—so you’re going to give the cure to that damn kid, Im Jaebeom.” He leans further into her touch as she caresses the apple of his cheek. “Promise me that you’ll stay away from her—to keep her safe?”

He nods.

“Good… Can you hold me for a moment? I’m cold.” 

“I’ll hold you as long as you want me to.” 

And so Jaebeom takes Tzuyu into his arms. However, it’s not until the vampire grows still does he allow a single tear to cascade from his eye, staining the bloodied bed sheets with the agony of a heart that has been broken too many times to count.

[theeternalblue]

maybe them meeting their daughters girlfriend, or their sons friends thinking veronicas hot when they go to their house, idk you pick

(I didn't edit this. Sorry for the mistakes)

“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” Archie asks as she follows Veronica around the kitchen he remodeled last summer with his own hands to distract himself from the imminent fact that his baby girl would be going to college and he was fast approaching his midlife crisis. Freddie mocked him and therefore he was punished into painting cabinets under Veronica’s ruthless quality inspection.

Veronica opens one food container her favorite caterer just dropped with some fancy-looking salad, and a smile grows on her face. There are several more filling the kitchen island.

“Because we want to have family time with our children and friends, enjoying homemade food.” She opens the next container with beet hummus, and she quietly adds, “and I don’t cook but we can always pretend.”

Snorting a laugh, Archie wraps his arms around her middle from behind and presses a kiss to her cheek. “You’re the best organizing and bossing people around, the Veronica Lodge brand. Besides, I’ll be manning the grill so we can count that as homemade.”

“You seem to forget I’m an excellent mixologist. One does not own a bar without learning a few tricks.” Veronica turns around in Archie’s arms, her eyebrow kinking up.

Archie leans closer to her, provoking a smile on her beautiful face, “We also swore we wouldn’t tell our kids about your entire business history and I wouldn’t tell a thing about my vigilante days.”

She giggles and makes a shushing gesture by placing a finger over her lips, before she rises on tiptoes to give him a kiss. It’s funny how after decades together, after a long marriage and children, she’s still fond of playing with his ears when she kisses him. Veronica’s nails rake the short hairs of the back of his head – where she claimed to have spotted a few gray hairs just last week.

Kissing his wife is certainly one of his favorite things – and it must be good for his blood pressure because it soothes him and has kept him sane for years. No one could blame him when he hums in delight from deep within his chest but of course they will anyway.

“Ew, Daddy, we have guests,” Audrey quips when she enters the kitchen, hand in hand with a slightly taller girl with red hair who is smiling in amusement.

“Shush, Addie. Just like you, I have the right to kiss my beloved. Even more so after more than thirty years.” Veronica pecks Archie’s lips once more to make her point.

Audrey chuckles and turns to her girlfriend. “So, BB, are your moms as disgusting as these ancient creeps?”

Bella Blossom might be Cheryl’s kid but she was raised by Toni as well, so instead of making a snide remark, her eyes widen and she stares at her girlfriend’s parents not knowing what to say.

“Watch it,” Archie warns with a lopsided grin and winks at the girls. “We’re happy you can join us for lunch today, Bella.” He walks past them, dropping a kiss atop Audrey’s hair, making her giggle.

“Thank you, Mr. Andrews.”

Oh, how he dislikes being Mr. Andrews. Is there anything else that can make him feel older? Only the way his knee hurts when he hits the gym and he doesn’t warm up.

As he makes his way outside to the backyard deck, Archie hears Audrey teasing Veronica about her home-cooked meal. It’s a running joke in the family how each time the kids had a bake sale, Veronica spent more money buying pastries than the school made selling them.

Burgers are almost done when Cheryl and Toni arrive. This time he’s not lucky and gets a few of those Cheryl Blossom’s snarky remarks while Toni makes damage control because Bella seems upset to see her mumsy being insufferable.

“I sometimes wonder what you did in your past life to have this kind of karma,” Jughead comments before taking a sip of his beer. “Lodges, Blossoms…”

“Bears,” Munroe jests but Archie doesn’t pay much attention to his friends when he spots three of Freddie’s friends looking at his wife too intensely for his taste.

It’s a known fact Veronica was deemed the hot mom years ago when Audrey started high school, and even before that when she was teaching and she was the hot teacher. She always tells him he can’t complain because the same thing happened to him – well, tough luck, because he hasn’t noticed other people lusting after him.

He hands the spatula and grill fork to Jughead so he can take care of the barbecue without thinking. Fortunately, Munroe decides to help instead when he sees the panic etched on the writer’s face.

“Hey, guys,” Archie greets the teenage boys huddled in a corner, with a smile that makes his face hurt. He’s never been good at pretending. “Do you want a beer?” An easy test to fail for a group of fifteen-year-olds. And they are boys, so they hesitate before one of them makes the right choice by meekly shaking his head.

With a humorless laugh, Archie smacks the shoulders of two of them, with much more force than needed. “Good choice. But you must be thirsty. Were you thinking about having a drink?” He tries, this time looking at his wife pointedly. But again, these teenage kids won’t take a hint.

Veronica is serving a cocktail and chatting with Cheryl. When she feels his gaze on her, she winks at Archie and makes a simple gesture to beckon him.

Just then Freddie returns to his friends, holding a bowl of sweet potato chips and baba ganoush – because this kid might be a carbon copy of Archie’s dad but he definitely has Veronica’s sense of style and palate.

“Kid, your friends are thirsty,” Archie says without preamble and because this is Veronica Lodge’s son, he knows it will take Freddie less than a second to pick up what he means. One look shot at the bar, the tilt of his head, an arched eyebrow and… “You should be a good host.”

Freddie has a glint of mischief in his eyes. “You’re absolutely right. I’ll get you something, and then I can tell you how in my family as a rite of passage in our family you must fight a bear–”

“Freddie–” Archie’s eyes widen. Veronica hates that story. She absolutely loathes it to the point Jughead enjoyed irking her by giving teddy bears to the children for their first birthdays. “Don’t”

“Why not? I thought you’d like for them to know you fought a bear, were in the army, worked as a firefighter, and in construction so you basically know how to kill them and make them disappear in hundreds of ways and no one would find them.” Then he turns sharply and stares at his friends. “Also, I advise you to stop looking at my mother because let’s face it, you think you’re good-looking but you’re not. She’s smarter than the three of you put together. Richer than everyone else in town. And with beauty only good genes I inherited can give.” He sighs. “So, unless you fought a bear, is there anything that makes you stand out in this place?”

“Dude,” one of Freddie’s friends mutters. It feels like this talk was a bit harsh, but Freddie also hated when Audrey’s friends flirted with Veronica.

“I know! Sad. I go to therapy because living under my parents’ shadow is unbearable,” Freddie replies, which is a lie. This boy is a Lodge in the body of an Andrews – and it’s scary.

When Archie makes his way to Veronica, he immediately wraps an arm around her and pulls her close to bury his nose in her hair.

“What?” she laughs at his childish gesture.

“Our children scare me,” Archie confesses.

“You realized it just now?��� Veronica leans against his side, enjoying his hold on her.

“No, but I hate having more proof.”

She chuckles and soon cackles when he tells her what happened.

“Think about this, at least Freddie didn’t lock me in the supplies closet at school like Audrey did when her classmates ogled you on her eighth-grade talent show.”

[livsoulsecrets]

Kit Herondale Fic - Am I Enough?

Summary: Kit wonders if he has what it takes to be the big brother Mina deserves and goes to Alec for some advice, which proves to be really useful.

-

It was funny, Kit thought as he got up from Magnus’ fancy couch, leaving his parents happily chatting with Jace as he retold some of his favorite memories with Alec. Everyone saw Jace as this untouchable hero, an example of glory and fierceness, even Jace himself thought that, Kit was certain, but nobody was more worth of admiration to Jace than Alec, that much was clear in the way he looked at his parabatai for affirmation every time he spoke in public, the anchoring hand he would always lay on Alec’s shoulder before battle and the softness of the words whispered between them.  

Alec was Jace’s hero in every sense of the world. Alec was everything Kit hoped he could be to Mina, little Mina that would hang on to his finger like her life depended on it, who would smile at him every time he picked her up, Mina, who he would die for and live for and do anything and everything for. His light and wild rose, she was so much more than he deserved, but Kit was determined to be exactly who she needed.  

That determination is what kept Kit going as he walked into Magnus and Alec’s kitchen, finding the Consul of the Shadowhunters, the highest authority of their people, one of their most skilled and wisest members, with glitter all over his hair and a well-intended, but still tragically messy rainbow on his cheek, courtesy of his son, Rafael, who looked quite proud of himself.  

— Yes, now you are ready for the party! — Rafe announces, putting the paint-brush down.  

— Thank you for that, I am sure I look... — Alec stops, looking over to Kit, noticing his presence. — Interesting? — He completes, hesitant.  

— That is one way to put it. — Kit answers, barely containing a laugh.  

— He looks gay! — Rafael says, fiercely, crossing his arms.  

— I look what now? — Alec asks, confused, but still entertained.  

— You heard the kid. — Kit is laughing now, not being able to help it.  

— Gay, dad. Papa told me gay means happy as well! He said you would be gay twice if I made you happy on your birthday! — Rafael explains, looking offended his point wasn’t understood. — I know how much you like my drawings, so I made you a gay one, like the flag we bought last week. — Kit feels like he is intruding a lovely family moment, but he is too touched by Rafe’s dedication to miss the scene. Alec smiles and bows down to kiss his son’s forehead.  

— Gracias, hijo. — He says, messing his hair up in sequence. — I do love your drawings and I love you even more. — Rafe smiles back to his dad, pleased with himself. He gets off the table, where he was sitting to be able to paint his dad’s face, and runs to the living room.  

— He is adorable, you know. — Kit says and Alec smirks.  

— Yeah, he really is. I’m lucky. — Alec’s words are simple and direct, like many things about him are, but they stick with Kit. Before he met his family, he used to think love was a complicated, painful and disastrous thing, like what his dad seemed to feel for his mom and for Kit himself, like the lies and betrayal he saw in the Shadow Market, like the tricks he pulled as well. It was only after getting to know Tessa and Jem that Kit noticed love was quite simple, that good, real love was calm and peaceful and felt like home. The trust and the care he learned from them made Kit understand that loving somebody is not about the big gestures and dramatic moves, it is about knowing someone inside out and still staying, not because you desperately needed them, but because you desperately wanted them.  

Alec’s love for his family was a lot like the one Jem and Tessa had, the love they shared with Mina and Kit. That is what prompted Kit to come after Alec today, seeking some guidance in how to present this very same type of love to his little sister.  

— Alec, could I ask you something? I know it is your birthday and I don’t want to bother you, but I promise it will be fast-  

— Kit, just ask it. You’re not bothering me. — Alec cuts his rambling off and Kit is grateful for that, not even understanding why he is so nervous. Ever since he moved in with Tessa and Jem, he had met Alec many times and grew quite close with his family as well, since Tessa was one of Magnus’ oldest friends. If there was one thing he knew, it was that Alec could never be anything other than kind towards him.  

— Okay, sure. Good. — He answers, eyes casting down. — This is probably a weird question, but... How did you make sure you were the brother your siblings needed? Because, honestly, Jace and Izzy adore you and it seems so effortless to you that it blows my mind. I have known Mina her whole life, which is not much, you know? She is only one. But, for her, it is a lot of time! Still, I don’t know what I’m doing.  I feel like- By the Angel, like she needs so much more than I can give her. That is insane, I get it, her favorite word at the moment is poop and she adores to scream it at the top of her lungs every time we’re out, of course she doesn’t have great expectations right now, but she  will someday and I don’t think I will be able to be who she needs me to be. Will I even deserve all the trust she puts in me? All the love she gives me? Will I even-  

— Kit, stop. — Alec firmly demands and Kit is so shocked by the action that he finally turns to look at him. It is quite astonishing to find a sly smile on Alec’s lips. — Just stop, okay? You’re overthinking away too much, trust me: I have been there. It was never effortless to me, quite the opposite. I spent most of my life doubting I could be the right person to keep my siblings safe. When Max-  

He stops, swallows dryly, seeming to gather himself for what he is about to say before speaking again.  

— When Max died, I was destroyed. I felt like I failed him. Somedays I still do, so does Izzy, so does Jace. Still, I know Max would never think that of us, he knows Sebastian is the only one to blame for what happened. —  His expression softens for a moment and Kit hopes he didn’t bring out any hard memories on such a happy day. — What I’m trying to say is that you will never feel like you’re enough or like you know what you’re doing, it will always be hard and the idea of letting Mina down will always be scary. There is no running away from that.  

— So, I will just feel this terrified forever? — He is well aware of how disturbed he sounds, but can’t help it when Alec just dropped this bomb on him.  

— No, not if you learn one little thing, that took me many years to understand. — Alec’s voice is soft now; the tone Kit only ever saw him use around his family.  

— And what is that?  

— Mina already thinks you’re the everything she needs. She already thinks you deserve all the love and trust she gives to you. You know why? — Alec questioned and Kit just stared blankly at him, not knowing what to say. — Because, every single day, you get up and choose to try your best to make her happy and keep her safe. That is all she needs from you: to never stop trying. She doesn’t want you to drive yourself crazy or sacrifice anything for her. I once thought the same, I was sure I could never be myself or be happy, if I wanted my siblings to be proud of me. I thought that was the only way I could protect them. Angel, how I was wrong. All they ever wanted was for me to be exactly who I am. — He glares at Jace laughing loudly in the living room, Izzy rolling her eyes at him, but still smiling softly at her brother shortly after, and something shifts inside of Kit.  

That is what he wants for his and Mina’s future. He wants her to laugh at him until they are both out of breath, he wants her look at him with the just right combination of exasperation and affection, to still grab his hand when she is scared and run to his arms when she is happy.  

— So... You are saying that I should just be myself? — Kit queries and Alec nods, as if he just asked him if the sky was blue.  

— Yes, as cheesy as it sounds, just keep doing what you’re doing and I’m sure you will be fine.  

— But what if who I am is not enough, Alec? — His voice cracks and he hates how obvious his uncertainty is, but Alec doesn’t shudder.  

— Kit, you are more than enough. The fact you even question it already shows you are, that is why you care so much. Still, I know, better than most, that I can’t be the one to tell you that. Any words will fall flat if you don’t believe in it. Look, I wouldn’t worry too much about Mina if I were you. She already adores you. Maybe just focus on believing in yourself, make sure you see why she does. Do that, kid, and I can assure you all these doubts will vanish. — He lays a hand in his shoulder and squeezes it, dropping it shortly after.  

— That was really... Wise. — Kit blurted out, trying to absorb what he just heard.  

— Don’t sound so surprised. — Alec jokes and Kit can’t help but fell an overwhelming sense of gratitude settling in his chest.  

— Thank you for saying all of that. It really helped, like, you have no idea how much. — Kit thanked him; glad he had gone to Alec with his questions.  

— You’re welcome. — He calmly responded, just as Izzy entered the kitchen with an empty glass.

— Alec, where do you keep the wine? Because I’m sure Magnus is hiding the good stuff from me! — She claims, coming to rest against the door way.  

— If I told you where he keeps it, I will probably have divorce files on my desk by morning. — Alec playfully provokes his sister, that just waves his concern away with a hand.  

— Fine, for the sake of your marriage, I will just have you ask him for me. — Then, upon realizing Alec’s lack of interest in the idea, she pouts, moving to hang on Alec’s shoulder. — Please? — He looks down at her and sighs.  

— As you please. — She claps in excitement and kisses him in the cheek.  

— I’ll be waiting! — Izzy announces, before leaving the kitchen.  

— Are you good? — Alec asks Kit once his sister disappears into the living room.  

— I will be. — Kit answers and he is only half faking the confidence in his voice, so he takes that as a win.  

— Yeah, you will. — Alec confirms as he walks away, Kit on his tow. He drops himself back in the couch, deep in thought. He is startled when a tiny hand grabs his left leg. Once Kit looks down, he finds Mina holding on tight to him to push herself up. He smiles down at her as she stands, her grip on Kit so strong he wonders if that is some sort of Shadowhunter-Warlock baby superpower.

— Min-Min, you are getting though. — He proudly states. Mina giggles, as if she understands what he’s saying and puts both of her hands up, a common indication she wants to be picked up by him.  

Kit gladly does so, placing his sister in his lap. She wiggles her little feet up as she rests her head against his chest, one of her hands coming to grip the collar of his shirt. She must probably be tired, her nap time coming up, but Kit tells himself he’ll soon put her down in Rafe’s bed like Magnus offered, even though he knows he most likely won’t. He holds her against his heart as she dozes off, feeling her hand relaxing the grip in order to rest against his heart, her five little perfect fingers going up and down with every heartbeat beneath them.  

In that moment, he’s absolutely sure they’ll be just fine, not because he’s perfect or sure he will never make mistakes, but simply because he loves her away too much to be anything other than his very best self.  

[silver-renjun]

Cafe 7 Dream: Jaemin

Word Count: 2, 443

Warnings: violence, mentions of death, stabbing 

Read the prologue before reading this!  

You headed into you 8 am class late as usual. After pulling out your notebook from your bag, you threw yourself down on the desk.

“Busy night, y/n?” Jaemin asked. You and Jaemin didn’t really talk that much at all. At the cafe, Jaemin was always in his own world, and in class he just stared at the board, though you doubted he actually remembered anything from the lectures. It was strange that Jaemin started a conversation with you, but it was also strange that you were resting on the desk. No matter how exhausted you were, you took notes, albeit sloppy. 

“I had 3 essays to write. Two of which I didn’t even know existed until Haechan texted me for my work,” you replied.

“You should be more responsible, y/n. I need someone reliable to cheat off of,” Haechan said. You rolled your eyes at his reply and groaned. You didn’t have the energy to argue with him. 

“You should just rest, y/n. I’ll take notes for you and we can review them after class today,” Jaemin said. He smiled at you, but you were fast asleep.

After class, Jaemin shaked your shoulder to wake you up.

“y/n! y/n! Everyone already left the class. It’s time to go,” Jaemin whispered in your ear.

“Where are the other guys?” you asked with a breathy voice.

“They’re at the cafe already. I’m sure they’ll be fine without us. Let’s go to the library.”

Jaemin helped you up your seat and packed your books in you bag. He even offered to carry it for you, but you declined. Jaemin held your hand as the two of you walked over to the library. He was still worried about how tired you were and didn’t want you to fall.

The library was filled with students trying to study. Jaemin led you to a secluded corner in the back. 

You dropped your bag down and asked, “are you sure they’ll manage without us in the cafe?”

“You’re the one who should be drinking an americano, not the one making it.”  Jaemin smiled at you and reached out for your hand. “Don’t worry about the cafe right now.” 

Jaemin lectured the content of the class to you. He was a natural at explaining everything. Even when you had a question about the topic, Jaemin was able to answer them with ease. As you copied down your notes, you were surprised to find yourself understanding the content better when Jaemin was teaching you.

At the end of the session you said, “You take such good notes! And remember everything from class too! I’m impressed. We should totally do this more often.”

“Well I still have to work at the cafe to pay my tuition, but I’ll definitely help you out, y/n.” 

“Yeah, working at the cafe is my destresser. I wouldn’t want to give that up,” you chuckled. “Maybe you could come over to my place after work and we can study then.”

The next day, you were late to class once again. You rushed over to your seat, but this time you didn’t pull out your books. You knew Jaemin had you covered, so you plopped your head down on the desk for some rest. 

“y/n, I need you to start taking this class seriously,” Haechan said. “I need to pass, you know.” 

You knew that replying to Haechan was just provoke him into arguing with you, so let his comment slide. 

“You’re super late this time, y/n. I was almost certain that Renjun’s vision about your death had finally happened,” Jisung said.

Jisung’s remark was just too strange to ignore. Your head shot up and you gave Jisung a raised eyebrow.

“What the hell does that mean?” 

A look of realization took over Jisung’s face before he looked down at the floor. “Sorry about that guys,” he whispered. 

The other boys all exchanged uncomfortable glances as if they were trying to figure out who would explain what had been said about you. Finally, Jaemin broke the silence.

“We can talk at the cafe.” The boys had slightly less uncomfortable looks on their faces, but they still appeared to be worried about something. You decided to not stress over it. Your priority was catching up on your sleep. 

After class, you and the dreamies headed out to the cafe and started preparing before customers arrived.

You were wiping down tables when you asked, “so is anyone going to explain to me what happened this morning?” You knew you were going to be working with Jaemin, and that boy was like a rock when got to work.  This was your only opportunity to get answers.

“Look, you’re not going to believe us at all,” Mark started.

“We’ve got magic powers,” Haechan said. 

“You see y/n, Jisung’s a wizard. He makes love potions so people will fall in love with our cafe,” Jaemin explained. While he was talking, Jisung pulled out a pink liquid from under the counter and waved it at you. You had no energy to question them so you just let Jaemin continue.

“And Jeno, he’s a water spirit. Do a little trick for us Jeno,” Jaemin said. Jeno formed a ball of water in his hand and shifted it into different shapes.

“What the-” was all you could muster up. “That water just came out of thin air! And you’re controlling it!”

“Like I was saying, y/n, it’s all magic.” Jaemin smiled at the look of wonder on your face. “Next up we have Renjun. Care to explain yourself Renjun?”

Renjun groaned before saying, “I’m an oracle. I see the future. And your future has an attack in it. I didn’t see you die like Jisung said, but since you’re a human, you’re probably going to-”

“Alright that’s enough,” Jaemin said, cutting Renjun off before he could tell you more about your fate. You were so amazed by Jeno’s abilites that you weren’t even fazed by what Renjun had said.

“What about you Jaemin?” you said with a smile.

“I’m human and so is Mark. We know our way around magic pretty well though,” Jaemin said with a self-satisfied grin.

“And Chenle and Haechan?” you asked, eager to learn more.

“None of your business,” Chenle replied harshly. Chenle’s tone snapped you out of your amazement and made you serious about your work again. Jaemin, like usual, didn’t talk much during his shift, so you would have to wait until the cafe was closed to get more answers.

“Hey Jaemin,” you said as you were heading out the cafe. “Does tonight work for you?”

The boys all looked at each other with wide eyes. They had no idea about your study plans with Jaemin.

“Any night works for me,” Jaemin replied as he followed you out the cafe. You could hear the giggles of the boys even when you were standing outside. Jaemin looked at you with an embarrassed smile before holding your hand and following you home.  

At your apartment, Jaemin got to lecturing you once again. He made sure you understood every topic covered in class in full detail. You were still amazed by how good of a teacher Jaemin turned out to be. 

After he finished talked Jaemin said, “well that’s everything we learned today. Got any questions, y/n?”

“About the coursework, no. About magic, yes.”

“Magic happens to be my strong suit, so ask away,” he replied with a smile. 

“Well Chenle and Haechan didn’t really explain their powers. Do you know what they are?”

“Nope,” Jaemin said, shaking his head. “Chenle’s family is pretty influential in the magic world, so revealing their powers is kind of a security risk for them. Whatever Chenle does, I bet he’s pretty strong at it though.” Jaemin paused for a second. “As for Haechan, he hasn’t really gotten his powers yet. He’s kind of touchy about it since most people get their powers by this age.”

You nodded your head in agreement, though you had no idea how it all worked.

“So what about you Jaemin?” you said in playful tone as you poked his shoulder.

“What about me?” Jaemin replied, mimicking your voice and poking you back.

“What’s your relation with magic?” you said with a smile.

Jaemin’s face became serious. He took a minute to think before replying to you.

“It’s a family thing,” was all he said. You decided to not press him any further about magic. 

“You know, Jaemin, it’s really not that late. If you’re down, you could stay and watch some Netflix. I’ve got some leftover pizza in the fridge too.”

“That’s a great idea! I know so many good dramas that are on Netflix!”

You microwaved a few slices of pizza while Jaemin picked out a show to watch on Netflix. It turned out, alongside having a coffee obsession, Jaemin was also obsessed with period dramas. He talked nonstop about the characters and kept on playing episode after episode. It wasn’t until you two had finished the first season at 1 am did Jaemin say, “it might be getting a little late now.”

He looked over to you for a response, but you had already passed out on the sofa. Jaemin stared at your sleeping figure and admired your beauty.

“Since you’re sleeping I might as well tell you this now. I don’t know if I’ll ever have the confidence to tell you this when you’re awake. I really like you, y/n. I think you’re the most amazing person in the world. I’d give anything to be with you.”

Jaemin sighed and went to sleep on your floor. Unknown to him, you had actually been listening the entire time. 

It became a habit for you and Jaemin to study at your place after work. Jaemin would lecture you for a while, and then you would order delivery food to thank him for helping you. After watching Netflix, Jaemin would sometimes even sleep over at your place. 

One night, you and Jaemin were cuddling on the sofa while watching a drama. Jaemin looked over a you and said, “There’s some things I should tell you, y/n.”

You smiled, expecting Jaemin to confess to you. What you heard was not a confession of love.

“You wanted to know about my connection with magic, so here it is. My mom used to sell plants, mushrooms, stuff you would use in potions. I would go foraging with her in the forest so we could find things to sell. Our customers were kind to us, they would even give us part of the potions they made. One day, this fire demon came into the store and gave my mother a potion to drink. She collapsed on the floor. The fire demon killed her and used her blood for a sacrifice.”

Jaemin began to cry as he thought about what had happened to his mother. You pulled him into a tight hug and rubbed his head.  You felt sorry for Jaemin, who had to live his life in so much pain. 

After a few more study sessions, Jaemin finally pulled himself together and asked you out.

“I really like you, y/n. I think you’re the most amazing person in the world. I’d give anything to be with you.”

“That’s the same thing you said when I was sleeping. You’re so cute,” you said, kissing him on the forehead. 

Jaemin stared at you with wide eyes and said, “wait you heard that? You knew I liked you and you didn’t even say anything?” 

You laughed at Jaemin before turning on his favorite show and cuddling with him. 

The next day at the cafe, you were supposed to be working with Jisung, but he had gotten sick. You and Haechan were taking over for him. 

“Hey y/n, you’ve never seen the potions room before, right?” Haechan said. You nodded in reply. “It’s crazy in there. You totally have to check it out.”

You followed Haechan into the back of the cafe where all the potions were. You were amazed at the amount of potions there was in the back room. Haechan grabbed a vial off a rack and handed it to you. 

“You should try this one y/n! It’ll make you feel so energized!” Haechan said.

You opened the vial and drunk all of the strange liquid inside. Unlike what Haechan had said, you began to feel sleepy and collapsed on the floor. When you looked at Haechan for help, you noticed that he had a knife in his hand. 

“Be good for me and don’t make any noise, okay?” Haechan said before slashing your skin with the knife. You couldn’t help but cry with all the pain you were feeling. You slowly became more tired until you passed out. 

When you woke up, you found yourself in a hospital bed. Jaemin was standing beside you and held onto your hand.

“Oh my gosh! y/n, baby, you’re alive!” Jaemin said before tearing up.

“What happened?” you asked.

“Haechan poisoned you. He cut you for your blood. He used it for a ritual to summon his powers. He had already transformed before we could even help you. Haechan’s a fire demon.”

You wanted to say something, but you had no idea what to do. The whole situation was just like what had happened to his mother. You and Jaemin were both thinking the same thing, but neither of you wanted to say it. 

A few days later, you were discharged from the hospital. Although you felt fine after your rest, Jaemin was the one who was truly hurting. Jaemin stopped going to class and the cafe because of Haechan. He just stayed at your apartment. 

“Jaemin, you need to forgive him. I’m not hurt. I’m completely fine!” you argued. 

“I can’t forgive him! That bastard nearly killed you!” Jaemin yelled at you. 

“Whether you like it or not, you’ve got to start living like a normal person again! You can’t just run away from your problems!”

Jaemin began to laugh.

“You’re right, y/n. I’m going to make that scumbag pay for what he did.”

Select another route

[pudding-head-kenma]

You’re My Happiest Place [ Wakatoshi x Reader ]

Request: Can i request ushijima x gf manager reader Karasuno boys had a sleepover and decided to stroll around then saw the reader buying snacks at the convience store with ushijima being clingy to her and cuddles too thanks❤️

A/N: This might be a little all over the place, I was having fun with Karasuno being crackheads but also introducing the relationship between Toshi and his gf, I hope it’s still enjoyable nonetheless!

“I’m telling you, there’s no other rational explanation!” Hinata keeps pressing the subject, and by now nobody’s really paying attention to this argument. They know better than to argue against the boy, especially when he gets silly ideas into his head that prove to be difficult to push away. They just let him have his moment, opting for not agreeing nor disagreeing, safely going through the conversation on neutral grounds. Not Kageyama, though, he’s not buying any of this.

“And I’m telling you, dumbass, a ghost did not make you toast.”

“I didn’t put the bread in, my mom wasn’t home, my sister wouldn’t ever go near the toaster! Who put the bread in, then?!”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! Do you HONESTLY believe-”

“STOP YELLING!” Daichi, as usual, has had enough of them arguing in the middle of the street and bothering just about everyone that walks by them. Although they don’t say anything, the other third years are thankful for the captain’s yelling, hoping for some peace and quiet now that he has told them off – seriously, they’re five seconds away from Nishinoya joining in the conversation and take neither side, instead making up a story of his own that would surely worsen the situation.

“Sorry.”

“Sorry.”

The next few moments are quiet, before everyone goes back to their conversations; they hadn’t had a sleepover together in a while, so they had wasted a lot of time just catching up in general about things that weren’t related to the team, even Tsukishima had blessed them with a few short sentences, and yet they all still seemed to have a lot to talk about.

Yamaguchi had claimed a spot next to Tsukishima, both of them walking far behind the group in hopes of not having to deal with Hinata. Sugawara and Daichi walked ahead of the group, involved in their own little conversation, while Asahi was borderline bullied by Tanaka and Nishinoya, Ennoshita desperately trying to get them to stop. Kinoshita and Narita walked a bit away from the group as well, mostly laughing at the scene in front of them. The remaining two were still glaring at each other, but they had dropped the ghost talk by now.

“Woah, guys-”

“If you tell us you thought of a reason why we should believe your ghost theory, I’m going to throw you off of that bridge over there.” After a good hour or two of silence from Tsukishima, he had spoken up in a warning tone, glaring daggers at the smaller middle blocker in front of him. Seriously, how long can this conversation go on for?

“I wasn’t going to! I was just gonna ask if that’s Ushiwaka over there.”

There’s a collective ‘huh’ from the group, and soon they’re all turning their heads to the place Hinata is bluntly pointing to. He’s a few feet away and turned around, but they can definitely tell it’s him.

“What is that bastard doing in our territory?!”

“I think we should go over there and teach him a lesson!”

“Our territory... Please be quiet, you’re embarrassing us.” Sugawara sighed, shaking his head at Tanaka and Nishinoya, who looked just about ready to go provoke Ushijima. “Technically, if you want to go all gang talk on us, we’re the ones in his territory. See? We’re close to Shiratorizawa” He nodded up towards a street sign, and that was enough to make the other two calm down – though Tanaka definitely looked disappointed for losing his excuse to pick a fight.

Although they have no intention of speaking to him directly, most of the boys are still looking at him, and the whole group has collectively stopped walking. There’s a certain tension in the air, be it competition or whatever else, and they can’t seem to walk away, even if they weren’t spotted.

In reality, it’s probably because it’s a once in a time chance. They rarely come to this part of town all together, and it’s probably not that easy to spot Ushijima out in public without his team. It’s like a peek into his life, not just as a volleyball player, and it’s somehow intriguing.

It becomes even more intriguing as Ushijima approaches a girl, and wraps his arms around her from behind.

Tanaka seems pretty offended by that. “That bastard! How dare he grab an innocent girl? Noya, let’s go over there-”

“And teach him not to mess with pretty women like that! My thoughts exactly, let’s go!”

They’re both grabbed by the back of their shirts before they can venture any further, Daichi more than annoyed at their reckless behaviour by now.

“Are you stupid? They’re obviously dating.”

Chaos ensues.

You jump a little at the sudden touch, but you’re quick to recognise the gentle hands around your waist. You tilt your head back ever so slightly, comfortably resting against him as you look through a few items on the shelf.

Despite what everyone might think, Wakatoshi is a very affectionate boyfriend. You wouldn’t exactly call him clingy, but he does enjoy physical contact from time to time. You find he likes grabbing your hand in crowds, enjoys wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you close to him, and it’s not rare for him to kiss you before practise, even if his teammates are around. He’s not shy about anything, having always been a blunt person, so he sees no point in being shy about his relationship, either.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself. I thought I told you to go ahead and go home?”

“Felt like waiting for you.”

One of the best things about being in a relationship with Wakatoshi is that he’s very honest. You never second guess the truth behind his feelings, because he has never been one to sugar coat anything. If he likes you, he says it. If he doesn’t like something, he says it. It’s not hard, and it shouldn’t have to be. You always feel secure in your relationship, because you trust him to always be open with you. That’s why he’s so blunt about his display of affection, too.

His arms tighten around you, nudging his nose against your cheek in hopes of catching your attention, and for a split second you forget what you’re even trying to read on the package, instead glancing at him. He’s quick to act, knowing he only has a few seconds to press his lips against yours, and he does so without even thinking too much about it before giving you a little more space to finish your shopping.

Most people would think he’s rude; that’s one of the downsides of him being so blunt, he always says what goes through his head with little to no filter, which people often associate with not being polite rather than just not being a liar. Coming from that same judgement that he’s rude, people end up assuming he’s not very touchy at all and would rather keep his distance from everyone. That’s just not true, it’s mostly that he’s only affectionate with people he trusts.

You eventually nudge him a little, and he’s quick to catch the hint and let go, following closely behind you as you pick up the rest of the snacks and head to the counter. He’s faster than you, and he’s already offering the little old man working there some money. You know better than to complain, he’d tell you what he always tells you: ‘I wanted to do that for you.’ At first, it bothered you, but you’ve grown used to it. He told you he’s happy when he does things for you, and you’re not exactly angry at the fact he wants to buy you things. You both came to an agreement that he wouldn’t overdo it, though.

As you head out, you both remain quiet when you notice the poorly hidden boys behind a few bushes; You recognise them, of course, they’re from Karasuno. You already know two of them had ran into your boyfriend before, their blunt behaviour having surprised even the bluntest person you know. It’s a little funny, and you’re almost unable to stop yourself from laughing. But as Wakatoshi reaches to hold your hand all those thoughts seem to melt away, and you’re instead focused on him completely.

When you’re both in his room, he’s even more open with his feelings. He doesn’t take long at all to pull you into his arms. His cuddling usually depends on his mood; usually, he likes holding you against his chest, having you on top of him so he can keep his arms tight around you, and so that you can hear his heart. When he’s tired from practise, however, he likes to hold your waist and lie down on your chest, listening to your heart instead. He seems to be tired today, and your arms move on their own, your hands tangling in his hair as you softly comb it, knowing it’s going to relax him.

“I’m happy you decided to be our manager.”

You smile, knowing he’s about to bluntly talk about his feelings again. You hum in response, gently scratching his scalp, to which he responds by tightening his grip around you, bringing you closer. Wakatoshi always likes bringing you as close as possible when the two of you are alone.

“Why?”

He doesn’t hesitate. He never does, doesn’t see why he should.

“I wouldn’t have talked to you otherwise. And you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

He always tell you that. You see the way his eyes shine when he wins a match, you see the way he swells up with pride whenever he delivers the perfect spike, you hear the passion in his words when he talks about volleyball – but they never compare to you. None of that compares to you, it never could. He knew it from the start, and he helped you learn it as well.

You’re both quiet after that. You’re aware that he’s tired and might just need a nap. In his embrace, you always seem to feel sleepy as well. You call it a curse, and yet he calls it a blessing – to be able to hold you close without bothering you, since you’re both feeling exhausted. So you let your eyes close, your hands stopping their movements after a few moments as you both fall into a deep sleep. You can’t tell which one fell asleep first, but neither of you let go.

You almost hear one of the Karasuno boys yell out how unfair it is that Wakatoshi gets everything, even dating his team’s manager.

Almost.