#but they just reaffirm my deep insecurities and fears and I’m like

[devil-changmin]

Body image ment

[sokkastyles]

It’s definitely an interesting point that one person raises about how “My own mother thought I was a monster” is really more like Azula’s INTERPRETATION of what happened than what actually happened. All we ever actually see in the show is Ursa scolding Azula, and not even very harshly, for joking about how she thought that Iroh was weak for mourning his son’s death. I find I’m starting to get very annoyed with a lot of Azula stans (as much as I love her as a villain). I think they want to paint her as a total victim and any criticism of her is either ableist or unsympathetic or both. I also hate it when people claim that Azula is the same as Zuko and if you have sympathy for Zuko but not Azula you “hate female abuse victims.” They don’t seem to understand that Azula can be both a victim and an abuser who is responsible for her actions.

Any time you see a significant shot of a character looking in a mirror in film it is meant to show that things are not as they appear, either because the character themselves have a distorted view or because something is being hidden from them. The scene where Ursa appears to Azula is a classic example of this, how Azula knows deep down that Ursa loved her and that Ursa is right about how she uses fear to control others. That's why the scene ends with Azula destroying the mirror just as she attacked herself by cutting her hair. The saddest thing about what Azula says about her mother thinking she is a monster is that it's what Azula really thinks of herself.

The other thing about the scene when Azula says this in the beach is that she's saying it to counter what everyone else says about their sad backstories. She mocks them by saying she isn't complaining, unlike them, and that it's true anyway so she doesn't really care. What's so well written about this scene is that it does multiple things at once. It reveals surprising vulnerability about Azula, but what Azula meant to do was reassert control over her friends by 1) belittling their trauma, and 2) reaffirming that she IS that monster, therefore reaffirming that she is in control. Of course the subtext that Azula doesn't realize is that she really does care and it does hurt.

As far as what we see of Ursa and Azula in the flashbacks, Ursa scolds Azula for saying violent things about her family members and terrorizing her brother. Azula does not respond well to this because she is also being groomed by her father who rewards her for doing those exact things. By the time we see her in the show, Azula has internalized the teaching from her father that anything weaker than her deserves to be hurt, and any kind of criticism makes her weak. Her mother counters that and commits the duel sins of loving Zuko and criticizing Azula. In Azula's world, Zuko deserves to be hurt. Of course Azula would see this as unfair. If Ursa must love despised Zuko, then it must be because she hates Azula, who has to be perfect in every way. Azula can't understand why Ursa doesn't see her perfection. Thinking Ursa thought she was a monster is also a way for Azula to dismiss even the mildest form of criticism.

If Ursa really though Azula was a monster or even realized a fraction of what was really going on with Azula, she would not encourage Zuko to play with Azula. She would notice Azula abusing her friends right in front of Ursa's face. Azula is able to pull Zuko away from Ursa to observe the conversation between Ozai and Azulon without Ursa noticing, which would not have happened if Ursa really thought Azula was a danger, especially to Zuko.

Some Azula fans insist that Zuko has a biased view of Azula but if that were true then we would see either a lot more of Ursa scolding Azula in Zuko's memories, because Zuko loved his mother, or we would see Zuko wondering why Ursa didn't scold Azula MORE and blaming his mother for not doing that.

It also is really rich when some people say that Zuko is the one who should have comforted Azula when she said her mother loved Zuko more than her and thought she was a monster. Like? She had just said Zuko was pathetic and that she didn't care about their mother and that everything Zuko said was a sob story anyway. It is NOT Zuko's job to comfort her there. That's an incredibly manipulative perspective and it's something we see Azula do to Ty Lee at the party, where Azula makes Ty Lee cry by basically calling her a slut and "comforts" Ty Lee by revealing her own insecurity, and it's then Ty Lee's job to comfort Azula. Do you see what just happened there? Azula gets Ty Lee to stop crying but everything becomes about Azula and her needs, what Ty Lee feels and needs is unimportant. Do NOT talk to me about hating female abuse victims here. It's the same bs when people try to insist that Zuko's pain over the loss of his mother should be about Azula and how unfair it was that their mother loved Zuko, because in Azula's world, Azula deserves love and Zuko does not. Why on earth would it be Zuko's job to comfort Azula there? Even if Zuko HAD said something like "mom loved you, too" do you think Azula would have accepted that? More likely she would have dismissed it and said something else about how pathetic it was that Ursa loved Zuko.

If people want redemption for Azula, they should be focusing on the "my mother thought I was a monster" for what it really means, that deep down, Azula knew that her actions were wrong and that what her father made her into was monstrous. Believing that her mother thought she was a monster is both a great source of pain for Azula and a defense mechanism, because it means she doesn't have to acknowledge any criticism, justified or otherwise. Breaking down that core belief is what will save Azula in the end.

[djemsostylist]

Farewell, my love

I thought I was done ranting about SCK, and I swear this is the last one. I've learned my dizi lesson, and I have so many good ones to look forward to watching. Lesson number one, don't watch a dizi where the only draw is the two leads.

Here's the thing. In the past couple of months, and having watched a few other dizis, I started to wonder if maybe Hande and Kerem had blinded me into liking a show that was never actually more than crap. But in my recent rewatch (I'm up to 12) it was good. It genuinely was. The chemistry was great, the slow burn was great, but for me, the biggest part of why SCK 1-12 was great is that the angst and the drawn out story made sense. Eda and Serkan not talking to each other and keeping their feelings close made sense when Serkan wasn't sure Eda didn't hate him and Eda wasn't sure he wouldn't always choose Selin. Their angst and noncommunication worked here, because this was a story about two people getting to know each other and falling in love. Here, we (and they) learn about their fears, their doubts, their insecurities, their uncertainties, and we learned who they were as people. In 13-21, we watched them grow as people. We watched as they loved each other through pain and as they set up boundaries and learned what would and would not be acceptable to them as a couple. They learned how to talk and share their feelings and be open with how they feel (granted it took fucking forever, but we got there. Finally).

And, and perhaps this is the MOST key--they were in character, they had arcs, and things didn't simply happen for plot. At least not in ways that sacrificed character.

From 22-39, we mostly dealt with plot. Plot which drove characters, but one thing, ONE THING that remained at the of it all was the Eda and Serkan could not be apart. Even when they aren't together, they are together. Their longest separation is immediately following the plane crash, in which Eda does everything humanly possible to keep pieces of Serkan as close to her as she can.

They are it for each other. The love story told in the first several episodes was clear--they are soul mates, they have invisible handcuffs, etc etc. They can't separate, they won't no matter how hard things get. And they both have lines. Eda believes strongly in telling the truth, trusting your partner, believing in them, and above all, family. She lost her parents--being able to be a mom with a family is something we know is important to her. Serkan is self-sacrificial, but he channels it into doing anything and everything he can to make Eda happy. He has learned how to be a partner, how to share his feelings and trust others, and like Eda, his own issues with his parents and the feeling of abandonment mean that he has a deep desire to want to build a strong family.

We have watched them go through literal hell and back. We have watched them fall in love and learn each other over, and over, and over. So to see them having finally survived all of that--crazy families, tumors, plane crashes, gas lighting fiancees, awful friends, terrible parents, and to have survived and come out the other side--and then, what, break up? Spend five years hating each other and Eda keeping his child from him...for what? What could possibly have caused them to be so broken that they left each other and Eda kept a child from him? What is worse than plane crashes, crazy grandmothers, amnesia, crazy ex-girlfriends--what? This isn't sensible angst that shows characters growing and changing and moving. This is angst for angst sake. This is drama for drama's sake. And it's not it for me.

The Eda I know would never, EVER keep Serkan's child from him. Ever. No matter what he said or did, the Eda I know, the one who confronts people head on, who fights for the people she loves and who doesn't let someone off the hook, the one who knows how hurt he was by his own father, who still mourns her own, would not do this. Even if, as some people think, Serkan tried to drive her away (and we'll address that in a minute), my Eda, episode 15 Eda, would shove her pregnancy test in his face and say "yeah? You don't love me, fine, but your child? How about that?" She wouldn't leave. Or would she? This is the Eda, after all, who ran away in 37 instead of standing with him and finding out the truth and making choices together. Did she leave bc he didn't tell her about the tumor? "Sorry you found out you're dying, but since you lied I'm gonna let you die alone. Oh, and keep your kid's existence from you, peace out."

As for Serkan, why would he let her go? Because he thought he was dying? I mean, I guess if she got mad enough about the secret to leave him, I could see him letting her go. It would reinforce what he has always though, that he isn't worthy of love--hers, his parents. It means that all the growth and reassurance and peace he got means nothing. And honestly, I don't think he's survive that. After all, what would he even have to live for, after it's reaffirmed that he isn't worth loving? And if he drives her away instead, then what was the entire point of 14-21? What? That entire 7 episodes of learning to love her, of learning to be the partner who listens and gives and trusts means nothing. Hell, 14-28 mean nothing. Because he is right back to where he started in 13. And if Eda, who knows he has a tumor, listens?

The point is, these aren't the people I love. These aren't my characters. This isn't the kind of beautiful angst that was built in 1-12. This is pure plot to sell things, and I hate everything about it. For me, there is no redemption here for Eda. She kept a child from him. It's not a thing you can say "oops sorry" for. She kept his child from him. Unless she was escaping a plot on her life bc Serkan is a secret mob boss and she had to go into hiding for her safety, there is not way I see this not making her not only a pretty horrible person, but also a hypocrite of the highest order.

As for Serkan, he's already been "the bad guy". He's made mistakes before (although I'd argue he gets a pass for actual brain damage), and I have no desire to see him, once again, thrust into the "Asshole Bolat" role. Not Robot Bolat, because our beloved RoBo would never have let Eda leave. Just Asshole. Which is what I assume, otherwise how do you justify another fucking breakup?

This show is starting it's 40th episode. 40th, and our couple has been together and happy for 4? Almost 5 episodes. It's too much. I'm done. At some point you start to wonder if they aren't just toxic and need to stay away from each other. Because if all they are is pride and miscommunication and refusing to talk and now a child is being hurt as a result--just no. This isn't the love story I signed up for.

So, it was a good run. I'm grateful to SCK for introducing me to Turkish tv (again), for helping me meet some truly amazing people, and for giving me a fandom again after far too long. But, like every other fandom I've been in, it's time for it to end. It's reached a point where I no longer find joy in a story that has gone so far beyond it's original tale as to be entirely unrecognizable. So I'm getting off this train. It's been real.

[smartzelda]

Okay, so now that that's out of the way, here are all my thoughts on the khmom

So starting out, I know some were hoping this was the big Kairi game, and I'm sad it didn't live up to my hopes in that regard, but we also have to remember that Nomura said in interview before it came out not to expect too much, and then we learned that the story mode is an average of 10 hours.

As a fandom we need to remember that KHMoM was never advertised as "the big Kairi game", so while you can be sad that the game didn't live up to your hopes and dreams, Nomura did not "basically" tell us we were gonna get a big Kairi game and then let us down. With all due respect, this game is only a "Kairi game" in the sense that she's on the front cover and the story cutscenes at the end show her side of searching for Sora. Even the advertisements and interviews about this game were mostly focused on the rhythm game aspect, so besides cutscenes, the only talk about Kairi was the change from Chirithy to her doing narration

Now let's continue on keeping in mind that this is all my opinion and analysis, and there are various opinions out there.

Let's start with Kairi, since most of this game is about her. I haven't played the game myself yet (I watched cutscenes for now), but although it's sad Kairi herself wasn't part of any teams (which honestly makes sense since she wasn't a main character focused on in any of the games as much as those chosen for teams. KH1, CoM, and KH2 really were Sora, Donald, and Goofy, Days really was our sea salt trio, wayfinder trio was obviously the main protagonists for BBS, and even though Sora was in DDD, Sora is already on a team and Riku got a bigger charactsr focus in that game, so why not include the dream eater pals. And then honestly kh3 was Donald and Goofy and Sora again), at least we get her in the end. And her getting a small playable section at the end honestly makes sense considering the cutscene portion is the part of the game about her/following her/focuses on her, and she's been getting better as a keyblade wielder.

Now, this section shows us the pink flower thing from remind, and I'm even more convinced that it isn't her heart. For one, in remind, it was used in kh2 fashion, like an object to create a pathway to the next world or in this case Kairi herself. Then, in this game, while she's sleeping and in the final world, she finds it and it breaks apart. If it was Kairi's heart, would it make sense for it to break apart inside of her and not have an affect on her or her body? And what convinces me more is that after you collect all these pieces of the flower with Kairi, she clutches her head and has a memory moment.

What is the pink flower thing, then, you wonder? Well tbh I wonder too, but I had a thought. It's not essential enough to her state of being to be her heart, but it's definitely a part of her or a representation of part of her. My thought is that it could be a semi-physical representation of her memories or a physical metaphor of her state of being at the time it shows up. For example, in remind, it could have been scattered pices of her memory, because we remember that in kh3 they learned that a person (like Roxas, Xion, etc) couldn't completely come back or wake up from wherever their hearts were until their memories were returned to them too. So if the flower is representative of her memory, it then would make sense why it needed to be gathered, why it made Sora feel Kairi, and why it can also act as an object related to Kairi that can pave a path to her. It could also be a metaphor for her state of being at the same time since just like the flower, Kairi's body is shattered. This also makes sense for KHMoM, because if it's partly a metaphor representation of Kairi's state of being, then her "state of being" in this case refers to her repressed childhood memories and the links in those chains of memories that have broken apart. And so if the flower is representative of her memories, it would make sense that when she gathered all the pieces she remembered these memories because it brought these repressed memories to light and essentially pieced them back together when she gathered the heart pieces. If not because the flower has to do with her memories, at least in this case, why else would she remember repressed memories after gathering the flower pieces?

Continuing on from here, when Kairi holds her head and begins to remember, we get this interesting turn of the camera that flips Kairi and her reflection in the water before transitioning to the memories. I don't know much about camera techniques, but it definitely symbolizes or means something.

So we get the memory of Apprentice Terranort taking young Kairi (I honestly laughed when it showed him reaching for her just because of that "gimme your phone" meme) and it transitions to showing the scene with Kairi in one of the pods. This scene tells us a few things. For one, somehow, Apprentice Terranort knows about "unreality" or what's essentially a parallel universe to the KH universe, you can somehow get there with a strong enough connection to it (like using someone who's from there like Riku did or your heart resonating in some way with someone there. For example, if Kairi's poh heart resonated with a keyblade wielder from the alternate universe instead of Riku on Destiny Islands). It also may tell us that it's possible that Apprentice Xehanort knew the stuff we learned in the kh3 ending with the Luxu reveal would come to pass. Obviously Xehanort knew by doing what he did with Kairi that he would cause Sora's disappearance, but since we know (from Dark Road I think?) that the ancient wielders went to another world and all that, we know the stuff with Kairi was his final plan, and we know Xehanort got his peaceful death, I don't think Xehanorts final plan with Kairi was a ploy for him to do more summon kingdom hearts or a petty go at removing Sora since he might win. More than likely this "final plan" has to do with preventing a possible future and setting things up accordingly. Apprentice Terranort told 4 yr old Kairi her mission as if it's success would affect the future of the universe. And on one hand it makes sense because they needed a keyblade wielder to defeat the heartless and restore the worlds and lock their keyholes, but what if it's double meaning is that making sure the worlds last past that is dependent on making sure "the keyblade wielder" would also be in the position to prevent a future crisis? Because I doubt Quadratum is gonna only be important for getting Sora and coming back. This place is gonna have some significance, and if preventing or battling the crisis also hinges on the Keyblade wielder going to the alternate universe as Xehanort's backup plan to balance the worlds or keep them safe, then the foretellers, Luxu, the box, and that whole thing are more connected to what's happening in the alternate universe as we would've thought. Anyways, to sorta summarize that, I think that Sora had to have ended up in the Alternate universe to give our main crew a chance of dealing with something big, and if Xehanort couldn't make a new world with the keyblade, he at least had to make sure Sora could be in the right place to make sure things happen as they should to save all the worlds.

Then we get Kairi faced with the man in a cloak who's revealed to be Xehanort. This part also honestly made me laugh because we knew it would be Xehanort, but also on behalf of those who insisted it was MoM (no offense to them btw because I get their thought process. It just kinda made me laugh). I liked this sequence in the khmom trailer (especially in og Japanese because what Kairi says there is better put), and I like it because it essentially serves as Kairi facing her fear and the one who changed her fate head on, channeling all those thoughts and feelings and letting them out. So, whether or not this Xehanort is real or fake, Kairi takes him head on.

Now the fight sequence has a variation of thoughts on it, and here are mine. For one, I spent this whole sequence being so excited because she was fighting so good and hard to the best of her ability. Second, this is memory Xehanort created from her heart, so I like the explanation that he too is influenced by her personal fears and doubts, mainly an insecurity and doubt in her own abilities. So the reason Xehanort is so easily able to catch her keyblade and dodge hits from her (the first time he grabbed it I honestly thought he would insult her and snap it like Xemnas did with Lea) is because no matter how much she wants to defeat him, deep down she doesn't believe she's strong enough, and so here leads into when she turns into Sora.

Now, to preface, if the literal explanation of this from Nomura is "Kairi isn't strong enough so Sora's sleeping heart sensed her danger and possessed her to do the boss fight for her", then I think this sequence is 1000% bad, unnecessary, and people have every right to be mad. However, my thoughts on this scene is that it also has to do with her memories and anxieties. Remember that memory Xehanort says that everything in this specific version of the final world was created by Kairi's heart. And so if her doubts are on her own strength, my thoughts are that it was these doubts and feelings of inferiority that had her become Sora (or a memory Sora more specifically) because she doesn't believe she can win or beat Xehanort with out him yet. In other words, she still felt dependent on him, so in that moment her heart responded by temporarily turning her into Sora to reaffirm her fears (like when she was losing against xehanort) and beat Xehanort for her. If this is true, then that gives some depth to Kairi's character in how she currently percieves herself as of khmom, and maybe how she believes others view her. And with Xehanort's comment, I think it may reaffirm that this Sora is a projection. Because if Sora came there through his bond to Kairi, then there's no reason Kairi would've disappeared or there's no reason why he wouldn't have talked or just something. So then, Xehanort's line about Sora being where his voice cannot reach them has a double meaning. The first is that this Sora that fights memory Xehanort does not speak (and also he's fighting like a controlled puppet without a will of it's own like, did you see his soulless face?), which affirms to him that Sora is in the alternate universe, and the second may be that he realized it's a version of him from Kairi's heart (just like he himself is), and he being there instead of the real Sora affirms that Sora's bonds in this world have broken and he couldn't have been there himself, meaning he must've been in the alternate universe (if not dead, which Xehanort knows he isn't because he knows his final plan with Kairi).

Side note, also during the earlier battle with Xehanort, Xehanort told Kairi she wouldn't find Sora in her heart and that the key to him is in memories long gone. And part of my reaction to that is that I felt validated and angry, because we've been saying that Kairi wouldn't find Sora through the search of her heart and dudebros and s/ks and the like said that we were thinking about our ship and being misogynistic in thinking Kairi wouldn't have that role, and then Xehanort himself, created from Kairi's heart said "You won't find anything here". My other reaction was to "memories long gone", and it honestly made me wonder if it meant that Kairi had some of Sora's memories in her heart that he lost and they're not there anymore, or that the key to Sora is memories of his he not only lost, but are literally missing and in someone no one can reach currently (like within Yozora or something)

So anyways, Xehanort gives Kairi a clue about how to find Sora through that line referring to the alternate universe (again it being brought up in the future for a different thing is why I think Apprentice Terranort gave his speech as a double meaning in the past), and she finally wakes up where the whole lab crew work it out

As for AtW and crew assuming the alternate universe is fictional, that may or may not be true. They worked it out by saying "The opposite of our reality is unreality or fiction", but we also know that could be referring to a parallel universe, meaning both universes could very much be real. As for Yozora telling Sora "this isn't the real world", I'm not gonna go far into it as others have, but if Sora is theoretically inside Yozora's heart, hence how he can visit him in his dream, then Sora is technically not in the real world, but the alternate universe is in the real world. And if the alternate universe is a fake world, it's not impossible, but it's still odd to me how Yozora would be self aware that the world he was born in wasn't real.

Forward from here, Riku enters, Kairi and Riku have their leads to Sora (tbh one of my hopes was that Kairi and Riku would have a real talk about the odd status of their friendship and how it's honestly not great, but maybe it'll happen in the future), and Fairy God Mother magics Kairi and Riku and herself into the final world (sorry this is a bit passive aggressive, but no, we knew that Riku wouldn't need to dream dive into Kairi's dreams to make it into the final world so they could get to Sora). FGM then starts talking about the final key, alerts the two teens about the hearts in the final world, and takes them to Nameless star. It was about this point I literally had a moment over how beautiful Kairi and Nameless star's respective voices sounded because they both sounded so pretty. This is also where they learn that shibuya in the other universe is named Quadratum (haha another square reference I see, square😂), and FGM says that you can get to the other universe with the power of waking and Nameless Star's strong dream and will. I honestly can't wait until we get to see Nameless star for real and hear her name. It's honestly so sweet that Riku wanted to make her dream come true (in like a "Riku is so nice and sweet" way, not in a shippy way) and was also willing to help her not just because she could lead him to Sora.

Then, FGM informs the crew that this is as far as she goes, and leaves the rest to Riku. This is another widely opinionated section of MoM's story, because here Kairi expresses her wishes to go and is ultimately rejected. I have seen people rant about how Riku is a misogynist and explain this scene as if Riku literally told Kairi "You're too weak", shoved her aside, and called her useless, but here's an analysis of the scene with some of my pov. That part wasn't nearly as bad as people exaggerated it to be. When Kairi expressed her wish to go, Riku literally stuttered, failing to actually say she can't. He didn't even really say anything before Kairi sighed and was like "I know". So to say Riku is misogynistic for that?😬 Also, this is a completely new universe, one where Yen Sid didn't even let Mickey Mouse follow, and as FGM said you have to have the power of waking to get there. Kairi is strong, as memory Xehanort said, but she's not to master level (or at Sora or Riku's level for that matter), not strong enough to deal with a whole new world, especially since her only real experience was being plunged into war just after some training (like Sora and Riku got this whole experience starting with dealing with low level heartless and getting used to it all, and they had been practicing and self teaching themselves how to fight since they were kids, to which Kairi did not), and she doesn't have the power of waking, so no matter how much Kairi wants to go with Riku, as he was trying to tell her and failing, it's not possible for her right now. It's like how Sora wanted so badly to join Riku and Mickey in the RoD on saving Aqua, but he hadn't regained his strength yet and didn't have the Power of Waking. Example one of the Kingdom Hearts fandom's double standards: Sora being denied access to also go to the RoD to save Aqua because he doesn't have the strength or PoW is fine, but Kairi being denied access to also go to the alternate universe with Riku for the same reasons is Misogyny🙄.

And also on Kairi's rejection to go with Riku to the alternate universe, I felt like this moment was a parallel to kh1 that showed that Kairi is beginning her character development. In kh1, Kairi insisted to go with Sora to save Riku, and Sora outright said she would be in his way so she couldn't go (idk what it says in the jp version), and after being told this, Kairi accepts her situation and resigns to wait on the islands for Sora to return with Riku. During this whole time she also makes no effort to train. However, in this moment in khmom, when Riku fails to stutter out "No", Kairi very visibly and audibly is frustrated when she says "I know". She's been here before, but it says something that her being left like this, waiting to the side, isn't something she wants anymore. She wants to go, and she's frustrated that she still can't. And I know this came off to people as "Nomura is just shafting Kairi again", but in my opinion if he wanted to toss her aside, he wouldn't have done this. He would've had her okay with Riku going by himself from the get-go and had Kairi just kind of go "well, back to training with Merlin again". Heck, if he really wasn't doing anything with her, he would have just left her while FGM and Riku met Nameless star in the Final World. But what he did was present us a Kairi that is strong, but knows she needs to be stronger. He gave us a Kairi that is visibly frustrated in knowing she can't help her best friend. And her response after accepting she can't go currently? She takes the initiative to train under Aqua (a real keyblade master), meaning that she really wants to take the steps to get stronger now, and she tells Riku that one day she'll stand by him and Sora (not just Sora). The girl has resolved to take her own path and take real responsibility for her training so she never has to stay behind again. It's showing Kairi's shift from "Sora and Riku are leaving me behind and I'm struggling to catch up so I try to make sure they come back to me or I do the bare minimum to still be around them" to "I take control of my own destiny, and I'm gonna close this gap myself, by my own efforts, not by waiting for them to do something". I'm fully aware Nomura could still shaft Kairi, but I truly feel like this little we got in khmom is the beginning of her development as a character. And I feel this way because while remind at times arguably came off as pandering to people who wanted K to do something, khmom, taking into account all the things Nomura could have done instead of what he did, felt more genuine, and actually made me hopeful and excited for her character and what she does in the future. Also, example two of the Kingdom Hearts fandom's double standards: Riku struggling to tell Kairi she can't go with him (and him not actually saying it) is considered misogynistic by this fandom, but Sora in kh1 bluntly telling Kairi she would be in his way and therefore couldn't go is "UwU he's protecting his love! So cute!"🙄

Anyways, going forward, I'm so excited to witness some actual development for Kairi amd seeing her interact with the wayfinder trio! Like training with Aqua? Yes!

Also, not to be passive-aggressive, but I know a number of S/Rs who would like an apology for being told that believing that Riku would be the one to save Sora was us reaching and being delusional and thinking Kairi wouldn't go is misogynistic🙂

Anyways, besides that, Soriku endgame actually?! Like Sorikus and Riku stans how you feeling about all this? Like, can you believe we were right when we said Riku would go save Sora? Can you believe in the same week we got confirmation Riku would be the one to go save Sora, we learned that there would be three sets of Soriku Nendoroids? Like we just keep on winning and honestly that makes me so happy. I honestly can't wait to see not only Kairi's training and possible future development, but also Riku's journey! This may have just been a bridge game, but I'm so excited!😊

[gallavictorious]

I loved Gallavich in 10x08 but struggled quite a bit with them in 10x09 and 10x10 (even if I personally loved the brawl proposal), partly because Mickey's behaviour in regards to Byron makes me cringe so hard, and partly because we don't get a proper explanation for how Ian goes from ”how do you know you love me” to ”and if you let me...  “ and this bugs me.

However, never let it be said that I'm not ready to do whatever interpretative work needs to be done  for my favourite couple to make sense, so here it is:

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Episodes.

(Disclaimer: I'm just now watching season 10 in its entirerty and you guys have been at this for a while. If you've heard it all before, please be patient with a newbie who just really needs to sort through her thoughts and emotions.)

Now, I know that many fans would have preferred Byron to actually like Mickey, and I've seen pre-episode 10x10 takes where people theorized that Byron, rather than list all the ways Mickey sucks would list all the way he soars, thus leading to an eavesdropping Ian's realization that he needs to be with Mickey forever. And while that would have been very sweet in its own way – I am myself very much here for more people appreciating Mickey – I think it would ultimately have been far less realistic, for two reasons: 1, Mickey was never going to treat Byron well, and 2, Ian's reservations about getting married were never rooted in a lack of love for Mickey.

Mickey's cringe-worthy treatment of Byron stems from him trying to perform two different roles at the same time: he strives to be demonstratively affectionate whenever they're in front of Ian, but this reads as fundamentally false becuase this is not how Mickey normally shows affection. But Mickey's usual mode of loving communication is both far less overt than this, and thus less fit for the purpose, but also something he would never allow Byron to experience, because Mickey being loving is largely tied to Mickey allowing himself to be vulnerable, to be open and himself, and since Byron is not someone he trusts, or even respects, that's never going to happen. I'd argue that Mickey chooses Byron exactly because he perceives Byron as ”weak” and so someone he can use for his own means without Byron putting up a fight about it - but at the same time, associating with this ”weakness” actualizes all of Mickey's internalized ideas about strenght, manliness, South Side, etc, which leads him to revert back to his extra special thuggish behaviour in order to continually establish dominance and distance himself from the more effeminate homosexuality Byron represents. So, he treats Byron rather nastily, while at the same time employing conventional means of demonstrating affection whenever Ian's around, which serves both as a means to show oh god, how very very much in love with Byron he is, and as a means to always maintain a distance from Byron himself. Which is actually very realistic, given what we know of Mickey, but makes for a whiplash watching experience, and yes. Cringe.

And I'm pretty sure Mickey isn't even trying to fool Ian here: he doesn't expect Ian to believe that he has suddenly fallen in love with someone else. (So again, the unconvincing declarations of love on Mickey’s part serves a purpose here; they’re unconvincing on purpose, if maybe not alway consciously so.) This is an act calculated to provoke a response, becaue he needs Ian to prove something to him, to fight for him. (This bit, about Mickey needing a grand gesture rather than words have been discussed by many others in more articulate ways, so I'm not going to dwell on that.)

But regardless: everything Ian overhears Byron say is true (well, apart from the dumb bit – but I think Byron can be forgiven for not getting that, becaues I doubt Mickey made any effort at all to put his smarts on display, and our boy sure does act dumb from time to time). So why is hearing Byron say it enough to spur Ian into the grand gesture Mickey is looking for? Sure, we all get really pissed when hear others talk smack about the ones we love, but Ian's reluctance to marry was never rooted in Ian doubting his feelings for Mickey, so realizing that ”oh, I need to beat this one up because he's mean to my man” can hardly be the catalysator here. Actually, I don't think it is the catalysator – it just paves the way for the moment that is.

Bear wih me for a while:

That Mickey believes that it's Ian's feelings for him that waver isn't hard to understand: Ian has left him, multiple times, and considering how hard he went for the ”if we love and trust each other the maybe this decision isn't that hard” I absolutely get that Mickey, when Ian backs out, comes to the conclusion that Ian does not, in fact, love and/or trust him, at least not enough. But Ian does, and he verbally reaffirms that throughout these and the previous episodes. Does his insecurity, then, stem from an uncertainty that Mickey will be able to love him throughout his highs and lows? This is what he tries to tell Mickey when the whole promise rings thing fall apart, and I get that it pisses Mickey off, because hasn't Mickey already demonstrated, again and again, that he will stick by Ian, no matter what? Is Ian really so dense and insecure as not to see that?

I actually think that Ian absolutely knows that Mickey will stand by him through thick and thin, and this scares him because what if he develops into someone that Mickey no longer can love but feels obligated to stay with anyway? Ian hates being helpless; Ian hates being a victi; Ian hates feeling indebted to people because that implies he can't take care of himself, and I think that nothing terrifies him more than being a project, or being someone people stay with because they pity him or worry that he can't take care of himself. The issue here, I think, is that he doesn't trust Mickey to leave.

Why this would would be a bigger problem than it already is if they were married I don't quite get, but marriage typically speaks of a stronger and more formal committment and so is even harder to break up from, maybe? Hm. This part I haven't quite figured out yet.

Anyhow. Ian's problem is that he is scared that Mickey will stick with him even when Mickey really would rather leave, Mickey's problem – apart from him being pretty nasty to Byron – is that he wants a Grand Gesture and Proof of Love from Ian, because just expressions of love doesn’t cut it with him. This, I think, is not the proposal, but the fact that Ian shows up with a fake date. This obvious attempt at making Mickey jealous is enough to prove to Mickey that yeah, this means something to Ian too. Particularly since it comes right at the heels of Mickey experiencing a moment of true fear, when Ian announces his new partner: what if this is real, what if Mickey took things too far, what if he fucked this up? But then he sees Cole (who is, btw, awesome) and he sees Ian's face, and he knows exactly what Ian is up to. I think it was fiona-fififi who noted that they both realize that they'll be going home togheter this evening, even though they also have to go through the movements of a proper reconciliation. I tend to think of this as Mickey knowing they're going to make up, because he's prepared for that now, but Ian doesn't know it, yet. Mickey's just waiting for the opportune moment, and he's probably feeling a bit insecure, too, because how do you make the first move after all this?

But then, when Ian tops the whole thing off by beating up Byron (which Byron really didn't deserve, becaue after what Mickey put him through, he has earned the right to badmouth him – even if he is a coward for not just making Mickey leave), yeah, that's Mickey done for, that was all he needed. When he walks over to the pile of bodies, going ”hey”, that's an overture of peace: at this point, Ian doesn't actually need to propse to win him back. That is already a done deal.

I think Ian knows this too. I actually need Ian to know this too, because otherwise it will forever feel like he agreed to something he really didn't want just to have Mickey back, and this doesn't sit right with him. But then the question remain – why the fuck did he propose? What changed, that he suddenly felt confident enough in Mickey's ability to leave that he felt comfortable formalizing their union?

Maybe it's the simple fact that Mickey did leave. When he felt himself unfairly treated by Ian, he did leave and hooked-up with someone else. Admittedly and obviously in an attempt to get back at Ian, but he stubbornly stuck with it through Ian's various attempts at getting him back. Mickey is utterly in love with and devoted to Ian, but he's no wiltering flower: he will stand up for himself, and if he feels like he's not being treated right, he sure as hell will make certain Ian hears about this. Seeing Mickey standing there over him, returned only now that Ian has satisifed his need for proof of love, I think this is what Ian finally gets. This, in combination with feeling on a very deep and visceral level that he never wants Mickey to walk away and have to return again, is what prompts the proposal.

And hey - maybe he's still not completely sure about this whole getting married business, but he is sure about Mickey, so he's prepared to take the leap. Mickey may be rough in a lot of ways, but he's perfect for Ian in a way that no one else has ever been, and that's worth taking a chance on.

Anyway, this is what I think I think at the moment. Maybe I'll think something else in a while? Do you have thoughts? I'd love to hear them.

TL;DR Everything that happened in 10x09 and 10x10 actually makes sense and are in character, but should I really have to work this hard to get that?

[marzgaperez]

S10 Gallavich Liplocks

Too soon to rank these? I couldn’t help myself. Well, at least enjoy these amazing gifs from @whattarush

#1 The Reunion Kiss

Despite the scene being cut too soon, I love this kiss (obvi since I made it #1). I love what happens right before when Mickey busts through the window like the Kool-Aid Man (thank you, @azuresky18) with all the sexy goodness of a Southside thug who is finally free!

These dorks in love are babbling about compassionate release and tamales, all the while making heart eyes and ready to pounce on one another. I’m assuming Cam has his broken leg at this point because no way Ian Clayton Gallagher wouldn’t have tackled his man right then and there, but instead, the circumstances lend themselves to Ian beckoning Mickey over to him with their favorite foreplay-before-the-action word: C’mere.

And the kiss itself - to die for!! They literally crash into each other. Is there a physics term we can apply here? Centrifugal force? It’s the same type of full-bodied passion we witnessed with the kiss at the docks (S7), because let’s face it, when these two have been apart for too long, they can’t help but consume one another upon impact. Uh, sorry for making them sound like cannibals.

It’s been a week or so, maybe, since they were last together in prison, but they were facing months of separation, so this kiss is as much a celebration as it is reaffirming that they are still in this together. They’ve made it out of the storm and can finally breathe. Right?

Check out that grip Ian has on the back of Mickey’s neck followed by the slow, lingering cradling of his head. Damn, now that’s romance! And to top it all off, Ian’s bicep comes around to scoop Mickey up like delectable salted caramel gelato. Or would he be more like crème brûlée?

#2 The Courthouse Kiss

Speaking of breathing, Ian looks like he barely can, so he goes in for the kiss to remind himself that Mickey is his rock and that this plunge they are about to take will keep Mickey safe, superseding all his fears and insecurities.

And sweet Mickey. Oh, I never thought I’d see the day that he’d seem so relaxed, so at ease. Ian literally and figuratively takes his breath away, just like that S5 deleted scene kiss when they are in bed together. Only this kiss is out in the open, and it’s fucking beautiful. So spontaneous that it catches all of us by surprise but especially Mickey.

This scene weirdly gives me vibes from the end of S4 after Mickey comes out, and Ian falls into a deep depression. The emotions are so beautiful but overwhelming. Here, you can almost tell that Ian is standing on a precipice, high as a kite, in danger of losing his balance and tipping over.

#3 The Proposal Kiss

Also cut too short, the proposal kiss is cinematically gorgeous and so meaningful because it’s the first time both Mickey and Ian have been willing to let their guards down since what happened at the courthouse. And of course, the kiss makes my heart swell because it follows the marriage proposal from Ian that is likely to stick.

You have to watch the episode with the volume turned up loud enough to catch the sexy grunt from Ian as he lunges forward on his one good leg to capture Mickey’s lips. You know he’d move a mountain (or punch the lights out of some hipsters) so he could be back with the man he fucking loves.

I would rank this kiss higher, except I love the other two more, and this one seems to be an homage to the S4 club kiss (the greatest kiss ever), so while amazing and what we’ve waited for, falls to third place.

#4 The Mutual I Love You’s Kiss

I owe that title to @whaticameherefor because I would have named it something boring like “The Prison Kiss,” which we already had in S9. I truly love all the kisses this season, and just because this one falls to the bottom doesn’t mean I don’t have plenty to say about it.

This is a tender moment of reconciliation and forgiveness in an unforgiving environment. Um, a traditionally unforgiving environment, ahem, assuming acceptance of LGBTQ couples is not the norm in prison, except in the Shameless universe, but I digress...

While the show didn’t give us that deep, meaningful heart-to-heart many of us wanted to see at the beginning of S10, we did get realistic tension and Mickey giving Ian a piece of his mind, which he does again later on in the season and rightfully so. We get another peek at wounded, whistful S3 Ian, who also realizes its time to put up or shut up, and that more brazen Ian (thankfully) makes an appearance later on too.

This kiss is a slow burn that eventually takes spark and then Ian is tossing his shiv against the floor to fully engulf Mickey, and dammit, if they don’t look beautiful in those matching jumpsuits. For the first time ever. Tee-hee.

So......thanks for humoring me. Here’s hoping for a few more liplocks this season because yes, I am a greedy bitch!

[astrologysvt]

Wonwoo’s Ideal Type - Natal Chart Reading

For ideal types, I’m not going to be doing specific placements of their ideal partner. Instead, I’m gonna be listing personality traits I think would mesh well with them, as well as focus on their needs and the kind of person who could meet them. what this reading cannot account for is the compromising the members would do on their end for their s/o. so just keep in mind this is only half of the whole picture! 

honestly, based solely on his chart, i imagine wonwoo’s type to be EXACTLY the opposite as how he appears.

someone fun, bright, talkative.

i could even see him with someone who is a bit flashy, as his leo moon and mercury would like to be with someone he can show off and be proud of.

someone who’s a great listener and great conversationalist.

you can’t tell me with all that leo and gemini that wonwoo isn’t talkative, energetic, and excitable.

not only would he want someone he can joke around with and talk with for hours, his leo placements need a great deal of validation and would be outraged if his significant other were to gloss over what he has to say.

not to mention his cancer sun wouldn’t take well if he felt his feelings weren’t being taken into account.

his moon is trine saturn which is a great aspect for emotional control and responsibility.

so he may also want to see a mirrored kind of tact in his partner, while also wanting someone who can help him let loose once in awhile.

just someone really fun to be around, ready to challenge him, but also incredibly reliable.

his cancer sun makes him a homebody — he loves comfort and security and would definitely be one for lazy dates where ya’ll do nothing and just chill.

his leo placements also play into his love with being lazy and luxuriating and being comfortable so someone who is an ultra-extrovert who only wants to go out may not vibe with him as he’s in constant need of places/periods of rest, security, comfort in order for him to be that fun, playful person he wants to be. 

cancer suns get crabby (please don’t acknowledge the word choice) when they feel like they’re being pushed out of their comfort zones against their wishes, so his s/o should be able to help him balance his need for that comfort and his want for excitement. 

it goes both ways, where if his s/o only wanted to hang out at home and play video games he’d eventually feel his life/relationship was getting stale. 

someone loyal.

anyone with a strong leo influence doesn’t take to commitment lightly.

they are highly attracted to individuals who are just as committed and loyal in life as they are. 

and with a leo moon, wonwoo would very unlikely feel comfortable being in an intimate relationship with someone who he felt was flighty (even if, solely to him, they appeared loyal.)

ironically, however, he has both venus and mars in gemini which can notoriously make him pretty flighty himself. 

this is obviously toned down a great deal due to his leo placements, but independence will certainly be an important value to maintain in his relationships as these placements don’t like feeling restrained.

he may also be very hard to pin down, although I don’t necessarily like thinking of gemini placements as “flighty” as in unreliable and self-serving, but rather as having very active minds that need to be both entertained and reeled in every once in awhile.

so his leo placements may make him acknowledge his commitment and loyalty, but if certain conditions and understandings aren’t met, then he may end up growing insecure in the relationship.

not to mention a gemini venus and mars will literally REVOLT if they feel as though they don’t have options.

so it’s important that you take things at a gentle bace and do check-ins, allow him to come to his own conclusions without added pressure and this should be easy for someone who similarly values independence.

he needs to feel confident that he has autonomy over his actions.

with gemini placements, if you don’t reaffirm to them that their opinions matter and that the choice is equally their’s, they will FIND and MAKE options for themselves.

like they may very well be happy with the circumstances they’re in, but a lack of wiggle room will make them start to resent it.

so it’d definitely be important that he’s with someone who understands that and reaffirms that they’ll be there for him as he does his own thing, and that it is a happy partnership more than a kind of contract.

someone affectionate.

leo placements love affection and attention, and his venus conjuct mars creates a strong connection between the romantic/intellectual and the passionate/physical.

meaning that, while he may have a strong desire for communication and strong intellectual connection thanks to his gemini placements, he will also equally need a strong physical connection and understanding with his partner.

i think it’s a very cute placement to have. 

venus softens the aggressive mars and creates a very nice free flow between the passionate and the tender. softens the barriers between the emotional, physical, and intellectual -- meaning, he can freely express and accept love in a multitude of ways.

he’s really and honestly a really tender and loving partner.

inversely, he’d be very good and accommodating to someone who struggles to express themselves in either which way. 

so if his s/o can’t say it in so many words, he’ll be able to understand and acknowledge their attempts at communicating to him through affection and body language.

this aspect is also super interesting because it blurs the lines between femininity and masculinity. and, in astrology, when I talk about “femininity” and “masculinity” I don’t mean gender, I mean energies solely.

since we’re all a mixture of different energies and situations activate certain aspects of ourselves differently, this placement in particular could mean he could take up either “role” within a relationship.

i know this sounds mad problematic but thing of it more as ying and yang.

certainly that could mean he could be either the super soft and nurturing presence that’s more “feminine” or ying, or the more assertive “male” yang presence.

but instead of thinking of it as a light switch where he can only be either or at a given time. i see it more as he’d feel most comfortable in a relationship where both him and his partner offer each other both energies freely. 

(as, honestly, most relationships should. he’s just REAL good at it).

there is an inherent understanding within him in how to bring a sense of passion/stability to his relationships as well as the softer/romantic/lighter parts of it as well. 

his gemini placements love the chase and his leo placements want to be wooed.

so someone whose assertive and charming enough to try and woo him, but they should also be intelligent, clever, and deep-thinking enough to keep his interest once the initial spark has dissipated. 

there is a part of him that 100% is very hard to read, pin down, and satisfy.

with his sun, moon, and mercury opposite uranus, he will often feel a strong desire for freedom, eccentricity, and uniqueness to the point it may cause him to feel restless if these things are threatened.

his s/o should be patient, and willing to allow for a great deal of freedom in the case these placements act out.

not only that but they should be open-minded individuals from the get-go.

someone too concerned with meeting norms, or someone who is unaccepting of people’s eccentricities and different walks of life would definitely leave a negative impression on him.

his moon is sextile venus which is adorable 🥺

having the moon (comfort and security) in soft aspect to venus (love, friendship, and pleasure) means that he has a great deal of understanding for his emotions and their connection to his need for intimacy.

he is truly a very loving and soft boy.

this aspect would also make him just a very calming and endearing presence to have around.

he would definitely not do well in a relationship with someone who was overly cold, stoic, and serious (lmao, like how he appears sometimes).

but this aspect in particular craves emotional closeness, while his venus conjuct mars would crave both that and physical affection, and all of his leo and gemini placements would lose their minds being with someone who wasn’t reactive enough, not to mention his cancer sun would crave the security of a responsive s/o.

summary: soft, soft boy. handle with care and make him laugh.

i imagine his relationships would have a very long, very enjoyable honeymoon phase.

primarily because everything having to do with affection, intellectual connection, and playfulness is all very well aspected and comfortable for him. It’s once things get a bit more serious after the initial wooing and honeymoon phase that this chart starts to get challenged.

his s/o should be prepared for that, but also very well versed in communicating these things. if his s/o is someone who wants commitment and things like “i love you’s” “you’re the love of my life” to even marriage, they should be prepared to wait a little bit.

they shouldn’t be someone who gets anxious, paranoid, jealous, possessive, or upset because he isn’t ready to state his commitment in so many words.

of course, it’s natural to be a little disappointed. but in the mean time, it’d truly help for them to continue to enjoy the aspects of the relationship that come easy to him as they are still very important things to maintain regardless how serious the relationship is.

and truly, the key to ensuring that he doesn’t get overwhelmed and restless in a relationship while also making him feel comfortable enough to say and feel those things sooner, is in maintaining this light and free dynamic. 

his gemini placements will give his more committed and attached tendencies through his cancer and leo the thumbs up to do their thing, once he feels he’s positioned in a place with his s/o where he doesn’t fear that they’ll hold onto him tighter if he tries to express independence. 

they should just have fun, enjoy each other’s company whether they’re talking, playing a game, or just sitting around doing their own thing and breathing each other’s air.

[ajokeformur-ray]

I always feel so jealous when Joker talks to other women and I know that’s so unhealthy and toxic but I know I’ll never be good enough for him and he’s gonna leave me one day I know it. Everyone else is better than me and soon he’s gonna realize it, at this point I’m just waiting

Hello, my love.🧡

I first just want to apologise for the fact that this has been in my inbox for several days; as you might have seen, I haven’t been feeling so well recently. I wanted to leave this until I had the mental energy to give you the answer which you deserve! I also have another anon with an ask very similar to this one, which I’ll answer later on. I did consider splicing the two anons together due to the similarities between them, but just in case you’re different anons, I decided to respond to both individually. I hope that between this one and the other one, you find some comfort or something useful!

It’s okay to get jealous, darling. I experience that too, especially when Joker first says “I love Dr. Sally” and then later kisses her. I never thought I’d ever be jealous of an elderly woman, but here we are 😂 My thoughts are always along the lines of ex-fucking-cuse me, you have a wife at home and I don’t think it’s unhealthy or toxic to be jealous; all thoughts and feelings are valid and you have the right to them. The way you feel and think doesn’t define you but the way that you respond to them does and for me, the line between this and unhealthy or toxic jealousy would be drawn if you took active steps to stop Joker talking to other women. That line is different for everyone, though. If you’re worried about how he would react to this, then I think Joker would be flattered by your jealousy. It would reaffirm your relationship for him and honestly, he gets just as jealous as you do so you’re not alone in this! 

I also just want to take a moment to address your insecurities here:

I know I’ll never be good enough for him and he’s gonna leave me one day I know it. Everyone else is better than me and soon he’s gonna realize it, at this point I’m just waiting

There is no way that Joker, a man who was denied the acts of both receiving and of giving love, for a month shy of thirty-six years, would ever just thoughtlessly be in a relationship with someone. No, Joker is like a penguin; he’s an all or nothing man and if he’s dating with, it’s with marriage in his mind. He’d be planning the wedding in his head and in his journal before he even knew your name; this man gave you the proverbial pebble (to follow the penguin metaphor) from the moment you first went on a date with him, and there’s no going back from that. He holds on so tightly to you and he loves you for you; no one can be as you as you are and that’s pretty special of you! No one is better at being you than you are, and don’t ever compare yourself to anyone else; that’s the fastest way to kill individuality. 

Joker will never realise that there’s someone better than you because there isn’t. You are his one and only person who understands him and that’s all that matters. There can never be anyone else; you hold his heart in your hands. But more than that, Joker has the same relationship insecurities that you do: he always waits for you to leave. There’s someone younger, richer, more attractive, funnier than him and every day does he fear that today is the day you’ll leave him. You’re both waiting for something which is never going to happen. What you have together is so beautiful and so rich and deep and the fact that you’re insecure about him leaving you only shows how deeply you love him; and that will keep the two of you coming back together again and again and again without fail.

I’m so sorry that you’ve been feeling this way, angel; it’s such a heavy feeling and your thoughts and feelings are valid. I promise he’ll never leave you. He loves you for you and it’s as simple as that.💕

[ftpthemovement]

Comfort or calling? Stop stalling it’s time to ride.

God doesn’t place a calling in your heart and not give you the ability to see it through. Are you choosing comfort or your calling?

Last week I was seeking God to inquire him about a word he gave me a few months ago revolving around FTP. Most people don’t know, but we are closing in on the last few months of our lease here in Kennesaw, and the word he gave me was in reference to what the furture would hold for us. When I asked, I wasnt given a direct answer, so I expressed a lack of assurance to close friends and members of FTP. Since the inception of FTP, God has always given a clear vision of what was to come, and this was the first time where there wasn’t a direct clear cut direction or instruction on what we were supposed to be doing. So I went walking in solitude spending time with God and he began to speak to me.

Often times when God talks to me the most, Its during these times where I’m walking with him in a remote location free from distractions and any input, or out side interference. On this particular day, God placed it on my heart that it was time to uproot myself from Kennesaw Georgia, and move to Las Vegas Nevada to do his will. Cause you know, that’s super normal and all 😂

At first I felt very worried because it’s moving across the nation to a place I don’t know, surrounded by people I also don’t know, to places I’ve never been before in my life. Automatically, my first inclination is to worry. Yet God choose to remind me of a word he sent me around a year ago, when he said, “I’m bringing a raging river to dry sands.” I quickly remembered that I used to walk around a repeat it daily, often times I still do; but I never really understood it until recently. On September 6th, I saw the post come up on Facebook, Circa Sept 6, 2019. Exactly a year later, God was reaffirming his word from exackty year ago, and it lined up perfectly with the message he had just given me! Guess you would have to be there to know the full gravity of the situation, but let’s just say it was all the confirmation I would ever need.

But, in the process of such a massive transition, you obviously have to iron out a few wrinkles with such an undertaking. So, I immediately reached out to Alex and Jordan, who are very close brothers and members of FTP to ask them what they thought. Amazingly enough, they not only supported it, but they felt lead to deployed there as well! Talk about faith in action! I really don’t think you could ask for more than that. God says go, thier answer figuratively speaking was, “Say when.” It’s literally the coolest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

Obviously all of our intentions are there, but this is when the opposition likes to creep in. See, technically we are still here until the lease is up. We have to manage to somehow raise funding, continue expanding discipleship, and elect overseers to continue our work here in Georgia, while we expand to the west as God has instructed. In the middle we could come up with a number of excuses, fears, doubt, insecurities, distractions, and opposing opportunities in the process. Hence why the topic up top is, “Are you choosing your comfort, or your calling?”

Up until yesterday when I would think about the transition I would start asking questions that I think any sane, logical, rational person would ask. Stuff like, “Where are we going to stay?” “Are we shutting down the businesses we run?” “How do we all manage to uproot multiple families and make it work?” “Where will we work, etc.“ “Where will the resources come from to help make the transition happen?”

Now, everything isn’t complete, but the Lord has already answered about 90% of these questions, and in the coming months we are going to reveal the plan God has placed in motion, and we hope that you share in the vision and take the opportunity in helping be apart of Gods work! But, for now this is where God calls his followers to have faith, and to be prepared to put that faith in action by trusting that he will create the way to see it to completion!

Sounds tough, and it is! Yet, he specifically reminded me of one answer he gave that changed the complete trajectory of all of my thoughts. A question so imperative, that it shifted everything Ive ever known when it comes to following God. What’s that question you might ask?

The question was, “If I choose to stay and not go, would you be mad at me?”

Even reading the question as I’m writing it, it sounds loaded. But in the loving grace that only my Heavenly Father could answer in, I got a peaceful “No.” So, God is calling me to go do his will, but if I don’t go, he won’t be mad at me? Hmm..... I felt a prompting in my spirit to ask God another question. “If I don’t go, can I be just as successful here doing your will as I would be there?” He gracefully and calmly replied, “No.”

“So, if I go I’ll be more successful than if I stay, why wouldn’t I go?” I had a lot of answers to that question. It’s probably one the easiest list I could ever come up with. Because of job security, comfort, and fear. Because of being rooted in what I’ve grown accustom to on a daily basis. All of the things I take for granted that would simply disappear if i choose to be obedient. If you really think about it for awhile there’s sooo much stuff that I could list, and go on and on about. As I sat there and thought about every excuse in the book, God blessed me with a wave of insight that came crashing down on me, saturating me with love, insight, revelation and understanding. If you made it this far, stick around because I’m about to share it with you.

🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁

God showed that I can be saved, be doing good works, and still be far outside of his intended will for my life....

Listen.... It’s the times that God asks for obedience, yet we choose to shrink back from it. You might understand examples like, “God telling you to say something to someone, but your scared to do it so you shrink back. Or, you know you should have done something in a particular situation but looking back would have handled it a million different ways, but froze up. All those are good examples, but imagine that times 100 million, it’s that deep of a revelation.

What God revealed is that often time we will ask Him questions, and he will answer them in accordance to the condition of our hearts. Re read that slow 5 times and meditate on it.

Jesus often times does similar in scripture, by answering people’s questions with a question first, to reveal the motive of there hearts. What God was showing me was that when we ask him questions, we often times ask out of good intentions, but it’s filtered through our intended desires. We ask with intentions on receiving what we want the response to be. Let’s slow it down cause it’s really heavy. It means we aren’t really seeking his will, but instead, we are seeking what we want his will to align with it.

This means when asking God, we can have all the best intentions in the world of serving God, but when we ask him for something, we are asking it for self, and he graciously and lovingly gives us the desires of our hearts. But if your hearts will, even though being good, isn’t what’s God wants for your life, is it a life worth living? It may appear to be good, you claim it’s for his kingdom, but if it’s not the mission he’s called you to....?

Walk with me bro...

How many of you have seen visions in your head from God, or felt a prompting in your heart to expand in ways you can’t even fathom, but then you quickly rationalize every excuse of why it can’t happen for you, and you write it off as a day dream How many times have you asked God for something but if it doesn’t happen how you wanted it to, or expected it to, you start questioning if you have unresolved sin, or if you did something not pleasing to God. How many of you reading this are weighed down by your past decisions in life, and they hauntingly become the excuses of your future?

God literally loves you enough, to bless you, save you, bring you into heaven, and you still not have lived the life he had intended for you. Most people I’ve met say, “Well everything happens for a reason, and God allowed x______ to happen to learn from it, so I don’t consider it a mistake. Yet they refuse to take ownership of truthfully considering if they were choosing their will or his!

God meets you where you are, when you turn to him, then He gives you beauty for your ashes. Things happen because you choose his way or your way, second by second day by day. When you’re on track and fully submitted to his will, you will live how he wants you to live. When you choose your will, and realize what you’re doing is wrong, he meets you where you are at. When you turn from your way, (aka repentance) Thats when he puts you back on the right path.

When you take ownership you realize, you can’t be focused on fear and faith at the same time. You’re going to choose one or the other daily. Several times God gives orders in scripture, man choose his own way, and he meets them where they are at. It’s literally the whole entire book. Man chooses flesh, God sets them straight, repeat. God tells Isreal do this, they don’t do it, they repent, he blesses them. You think he wanted them to mess up? No! He wants to bless them, but just as we do, we pursue our own ways, and then ask God to bless them.

Long segway, but I hope it was useful. Point is, how many times have you been given a vision, or felt the feeling and didn’t act? In my experience, JUST MY PERSONAL experience, everything God calls me to do, is wildly uncomfortable, and he always places me in a positions that my faith is required to go further than my flesh has ever been capable of. Meaning, God gives me visions that I cannot complete on my own, that I have to overcome fear, walk in faith, and be wildly dependent on him to complete the mission. Period.

So, what calling has you placed on your heart that you haven’t been listening to? Are you so far past having them that you don’t even ask God anymore? Are you just focused on, watch over my family, help me make it through this work day, get a decent spot at the mall, next promotion, and don’t let me get stuck in traffic?

Or is it, God you know what I’m going through, if you would just give me a sign, I’ll do whatever you tell me? But, then you don’t read the Bible enough to realize, he’s already given you the sign, your mission, purpose and calling, and you would just rather wait on magic to drop from the sky, settling for comfort and complacent over sacrifice and obedience?

Come on bro!! Excuses are void in the kingdom of heaven, act like you knew! Don’t be the guy who gets so far off path that you say you believe, but don’t seek Gods will daily, so you walk around professing God, but living nothing like what he’s called you to live. You’re better than that.

So, what’s the answer to this ridiculously long blog?

Fully submit yourself to Gods will daily, no matter how crazy it may seem to others. Use me as an example if you need to. If you know me, I’m not the trophy boy for exceptional Christian. I’m what most churches would call a heretic, a false profit, or lost in sin. Yet, all I eat sleep and breathe is doing Gods will daily. My point is, people will always have an opinion, even the people who thought they were closest to God, killed his son, and the prophets who came before him! Christ rebelled against their man made religion, called them a brood of vipers, prob some more stuff, and then went on to reveal love, care, generosity, forgiveness, and compassion! A little different example than what they had set. He goes on to show mercy trumps sacrifice, and forgiveness and love conquers all. He literally displayed the example of what it means to be his disciple for all to see, when he picked up his cross, took on the sin of judging hypocrites, and said “Father forgive them, they know not what they do!”

Yet in this world, being a true disciple is a stumbling block for most religious people. It’s the very ones who claim to know him the most, that continuously persecute his elect. So, if you don’t look like mans religious church, and you don’t look like the world, you might just find that your walking on the narrow path with Jesus, that he himself said very few will find.

So don’t choose the ways of the world and they will hate you. Don’t seek to align yourself with mans religious customs and narrow viewpoint, they will hate you too.

For they fear what they don’t know, and kill what they can’t understand. Blind guides, full of judgment, an outward display of selfish insecurity, masquerading itself as righteousness. They’ve been judging themselves their whole life, because it is all they’ve known to do. Some past judgment on the world, others understand the word enough that they don’t pass judgment on the world, but comprehend the word enough to pass judgment on the church. Yet when they do so its a perversion, because they do not know love, so they lack the truth. They themselves can’t even look in the mirror and love themselves, so they cannot rightly ever loves others! When they look in the mirror they see sin and not their savior. So they outwardly reflect their shortcomings onto others. Claiming to be free, yet they tie a burdensome yoke onto others that they themself cannot carry, because they have skeletons they cannot bury. Depraved bunch in high positions, appearing to be Shepard’s, but they are like chaff in the wind, being thrown to and fro, judgment to judgment. If the words I speak aren’t from God himself, then let this day be held in account for all to see, so that the motives of my heart be displayed for all to bear witness.

Take the time to seek his will, and you to will find yourself on a similar path. But in this walk of righteousness remember, God won’t place a calling in your heart and not give you the ability to see it through. You just have to have the courage to bring it to fruition.

So in closing, are you choosing comfort or your calling? Search your heart man of GOD, the end has yet to come. Will you have the courage to follow his will? Fear is for the fire lake, be bold and courageous, you’ve been called to go and spread the good news of the gospel, baptize in the name of The Father, The Son, and the Holy Spirit! You have been commissioned!

Stop looking for the approval of man, and rest assure in your approval and right standing in God through Christ, who sacrificed everything for you to be set free! Let God himself be the only judge you consider in your pursuit of his calling. Go to where the pastors don’t preach, and where the teachers won’t teach. Go be a light in dark in the dark, a city on a hill for all to see. Stop settling for tradition, and go complete Gods mission! May his spirit rage inside of you, calling you to relentless actions of faith, being bold as to laugh in the face of fear, and courageously walk out your destiny. God be with you always even until the end of this age. Don’t do, be. because you already are.

From the front lines, -ES

[nocteverbascio]

We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.” Prompt Alex to Lucy???

Lucy heads back to her office to sign off on more reports when she gets a surprise waiting for her.

“When are we getting married?” Alex’s disembodied voice comes from her chair. She pauses midstep briefly as Alex swivels her chair around like a Bond villain. Her hands on are clasped in front of her and Lucy takes a second to realize she’s playing with her engagement ring.

Lucy chuckles as she makes her way over to add to her never ending pile of files. “Hello to you too,” she greets instead of responding to Alex’s loaded question. She presses a gentle kiss on Alex’s forehead. “I’m surprised you knew it was me.”

Alex frowns glancing around Lucy’s office. “You don’t have windows in your office but the framed photo of us was reflective enough.”

Lucy smiles to herself. The placement of that important picture was intentional after all. She appreciates that her girlfr--fiancee can figure that out all on her own. She moves herself around Alex to turn on her monitor and go about her work. “As much as I love seeing you, it is still work hours. I heard you guys just caught one of Central City’s villains lurking around here. Why aren’t you leading the interrogation?”

Alex narrows her eyes as she swivels the chair to meet Lucy. “J’onn is handling it. I wanted to come see you.”

Lucy stops checking her emails and looks at Alex. “Is everything okay?” she asks with concern. She eyes Alex carefully to check for any injury.

Alex purses her lips and looks at Lucy seriously. “We haven’t set a wedding date yet. We’ve been engaged for over six months.”

Lucy furrows her brow. “You came all the way here because you wanted to set a wedding date?”

“Yes, because every time I bring it up, you avoid it like you’re about to do now.”

Lucy scoffs incredulously. It wasn’t like she’s avoiding it per se. “Alex you know how much I love you and how much I care about you. You’re my best friend--”

“We’re not just friends and you fucking know it,” Alex pouts even harder, crossing her arms. Lucy can’t help but smile affectionately because she’s sure Alex has been picking up more younger sibling habits between herself and Kara. 

“You’re my best friend and the love of my life,” Lucy clarifies. “Getting married isn’t such a big deal because we’re going to be together forever anyway.”

“But it definitely sounds like you’ve been avoiding it.”

“I’m not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“You’re doing it right now.”

Lucy rolls her eyes. She really hates the bad habits Alex’s picked up from her when it’s being used against her. “Alex--”

“Do you not want to get married anymore?” Alex asks seriously. There’s a look of fear in her eyes as she asks.

Lucy’s heart melts at the way Alex looks. The insecurity hasn’t been there in ages and Lucy’s done a good job of making sure Alex never feels insecure in their relationship. She takes a deep breath and reaches for Alex’s hands. “It’s not that I don’t want to get married, Alex.”

“But?” Alex takes a deep breath.

Lucy shakes her head just a bit because she knows it’s going to sound ridiculous when she says it. “Weddings are bad luck.” Alex looks at her in massive  confusion. “We know a lot of superheroes that have gotten married Alex and when was there ever a wedding where some massive alien takeover or stupid alternate universe Neo-Nazi freaks didn’t come and ruin it?”

Alex nods in agreement, unfortunately. “I mean those are isolated incidents.”

“Once is a happenstance. Twice is a coincidence. Three times is enemy action.” Alex rolls her eyes but Lucy forges on to explain her thought process. “I’m serious Alex. Just because we aren’t superheroes doesn’t mean that we wouldn’t been inviting half of the Justice League for a champagne toast at our wedding. If we do that, who’s to say there won’t be some nano-bots from Brainiac infesting our bubbly to possess us?”

Alex’s eyes widen because it’s farcry but still... “Your imagination is something else, baby.”

Lucy narrows her eyes. “You say that, but you know I’m right. Our circle of friends has bad luck with big marriages. Don’t get me wrong. I want to be with you forever, but I don’t want that day to be ruined by Riddler stopping by poisoning our fortune cookies and holding the antidote hostage while we try to solve the stupid fortune cookie meanings.”

Alex lets out a laugh and shakes her head. “Your mind, Lucy. I swear to god...it’s next level right now.”

“Yeah, yeah, but this is what you get for introducing me to the multiverse. The possibilities are endless,” Lucy argues. 

Alex agrees, “You’re right. You’re definitely right. I guess there’s always a crisis on Earth when someone gets married.” Lucy’s face clearly says I told you so. “But like you said, those are big weddings. So let’s skip the big weddings. Let’s just go to City Hall and get married.”

“What?”

"We can just get the papers signed. Be wife and wife. Go home and have sex until Monday.”

Lucy’s jaw drops in shock. “Alex--”

“I love you, Lucy. We don’t have to have the pomp and circumstance for everyone else. I just want to be with you. As your wife.”

“Are you sure? But your family--”

“You’re my family,” Alex reaffirms. “All I want is you. Forever.”

Lucy feels her cheeks finally hurting from the smile on her face. “Okay then. Let’s get married.”

Alex smiles just as hard as Lucy. “Let’s get married.”

“But if something happens at City Hall, I’m going to say I told you so.”

Alex laughs. “You can say that for the rest of our lives.”

[imagethat]

Spar | Vergil x Reader

Reader gets trapped with Dante and Vergil in hell at the end of DMC5, plot twist. They're actually a highly trained assassin from a coven Dante had dismantled. Most people were brainwashed beyond saving but he aaw something within the reader and took them under his wing. More drabble esc writing^^

You couldn't believe you had so foolishly gotten yourself trapped in hell with these two. Sat away from their sparring ring with your eyes closed, you listened to their annoying banter. Dante you had known for a great deal of time, he was your boss after all. While his twin, Vergil, was new to you. You didn't know what to make of him yet. He was quiet and tactical, both qualities you appreciated greatly when compared to his brothers dull witted humor. "Where did you learn to count?" Vergil demanded of his brother as Dante laughed and fell to the ground. "Same place as you brother. I need a break though." He sighed out, clearly out of breath. Vergil was still on his feet and you could hear him turn to you. "Up." He demanded, a command which you did not heed. You simply opened your eyes and looked in his direction. Vergil in turn pointed his blade at you and made a soft up motion. His gaze piercing you. "Do you truly wish to be beaten a third time?" You mused. Unbeknownst to Vergil, you had defeated him as Urizen but he had fled before you could seal the deal. And then again as V when you had hunted him down wanting answers. "She has a point." Dante added, sprawled out on the ground like a starfish. "I do not recall these battles, and I am curious of your skills. Please do refresh my memory." Vergil said. You finally rose from your spot, even your most basic of movements graceful and swift. "I don't bother with sparring matches. It's against my code of conduct." You replied and Dante let out a groan. "You never sparred for practice?" Vergil questioned simply because it was clear you learned from somewhere. Which he was right partially, but the coven that which raised you was ruthless. Training only the most cunning of soldiers. Losing a spar meant losing your life. And it was by that code of conduct you still lived by. Only partaking in battles you would finish. Ashamed you had so clumsily failed to kill Urizen and V. Part of you, a part you hated, was glad you failed both times though. "You do not want this fight." You breathed out as a warning. You did not know if you could control your impulses. You could feel the way your muscles twitched and how your mind already raced through every possibility of how this battle could happen. You wouldn't allow yourself to fail again much less you dishonor your own lifeblood. Vergil wasn't one to back down though, both of you carrying the same needlessly prominent pride on your shoulders. He simply got into his battle stance. It was all the invite you needed. Your movements were balanced, incisions precise, and senses heightened in the battle. Vergil was impressed with your keen ability to map out his attacks. He could tell you watched him as he fought with Dante and familiarized yourself with his battle tactics. Dante sat on the sidelines still, making petty comments whenever one of you would get a hit off on each other. It annoyed both of you greatly, adding fuel to the already massively burning fire. But your temper was controlled and had been tested through many years spent in that coven. This battle showed no signs of letting up. "Told you Y/N was one of my finest." Dante whistled. A well timed parry from you was enough to finish the battle as Vergil was forced down onto one knee. You became ensnared with the temptation to finish the battle, and as you raised your sword up your eyes bore into Vergils. Something in you hesitated despite the heat in your heart. The tempered mentality the coven had forced onto your shoulders becoming fuzzy. Dante had well enough been able to tell where the battle was heading and drew a pistol before you could swing the sword down. He fired at your blade twice causing it to knock out of your hands. You surprisingly didn't lose your balance though and stood there in shook while your chest heavily rose and fell. You staggered back and placed a hand on your head, muttering sorry softly before falling to the ground. Your past was stronger than you could fight but somehow you can't bring yourself to cut down your foe… It was possible you already thought of him as a friend in the way you did Dante. That thought irked you, reminding you of how soft you had become since joining Devil May Cry. It made you feel weak. Part of you suddenly got swept into the past, fear setting in that you'd be punished for such an inexcusable failure to win the battle. Dante could tell you needed a moment and went to go grab your blade. He knelt down beside you and placed a hand on your shoulder. "You okay?" He questioned, a small amount of concern written on his face. Your mind snapped back to reality and you nodded gently. After that he handed you your blade back softly, hand lingering on yours for a moment. Trying to remind you that you were no longer leading the life you once were. Vergil was already on his feet again and seemed unbothered outwardly by what had just occurred. "Zero to one." He acknowledged, much to your surprise. Vergil, being bountifully overconfident was unaware of your strength. But even more unaware of your ability to adapt and predict. Internally he brushed this spar off, pretending the loss was simply because he underestimated you. Despite that, he found it in himself to admire your tenacity. Before Vergil could question you on where you were trained sludge rose in packs around you. Demons crawling forth from the ground. Dante motioned for you to wait. "We'll take care of this." He reaffirmed, leaving you to recover from your spinning thoughts as the two Sons of Sparda took care of the demons. After the demons had been dealt with, the three of you made a makeshift fire. You internally scoffed at your boss and the fact that he was tired. Attributing his somewhat low stamina, at least compared to yours and Vergils, to his poor choice of time management before the Quipoth had broken Red Grave. He never left the house unless he had to, fed himself poorly, and didn't train. But you wouldn't be so bashful of him out loud since you knew such judgmental thoughts came from a place of insecurity deep within yourself. After Dante was asleep you decided to apologize to Vergil. "I…" You hesitated for a moment, feeling as though an apology might be taken as weakness or not cared for from the stern man who sat beside you. "I'm sorry about earlier. I get caught up in fighting to easily… I understand if you don't want to spar with me again." You admitted. Vergil chuckled and completely took you off guard. "I should have not underestimated you. I applaud you for your dexterity." He said before giving you somewhat of a smirky smile. "I look forward to sparring with you again." He added. You took this as him being genuine albeit a bit awkward since both of you didn't know how to communicate well. Letting out a sigh of relief as you nodded in agreement. "As do I, though I admit I had an upperhand." You said. It was true you were at a slight advantage. After all, Vergil couldn't recall ever fighting you, but you knew how he battled from both his human and demon side. You got to watch him spare Dante as well. "All the more reason to spar again." He replied, seeing you as a challenge. A way to test and further strengthen his power. You nodded in agreement, thinking the same of him. "I do hope you allow me to prove I'm more than just an opponent." He admitted honestly and you had to take a moment to process it. Vergil would never be the type to be incredibly forward with his emotions. So you took this to heart. "Possibly." Was all you could respond with, still having walls of your own built. He seemed satisfied with that answer though. The two of you spent the next few hours resting before Dante woke up. "Think pizza could be delivered down here?" He teased and you rolled your eyes while muttering stupid. Before he could make some stupid quip back like 'didn't catch that' though, you were on your feet. "Rise." You instructed and he laughed. "Oh ho ho, someone's serious. You and Vergil make a little pact while I was out?" He asked, obliging to your somewhat demanding attitude. "No more a pact than it is an obligation to hold a higher score than Vergil." You commented, sorely behind since Vergil and Dante had been sparring for so long. If you were honest though, you just wanted to give Vergil a chance to also learn your attack patterns so next time you sparred you'd both start on an even playing field. It would make the victory sweeter knowing your win didn't come from one sides lack of knowledge. Your brain so trained to improve upon itself that you couldn't even acknowledge the fact that beating Vergil was an achievement. Through your next matches with Dante, Vergil's eyes followed you. But Dante could tell they lingered on you sometimes for too long. At one point he noticed how intense Vergil's stare was and gave his brother a shit eating grin. It cost him a good kick to the stomach, but it was worth it in Dante's eyes. He'd never let his brother live that kind of look down. 

[michael-langdon-appreciation]

I love the pain. Bring it on. Eventually there’ll be fluff so I’m not worried -MC

You all asked for the angst. I’m sorry…

Also line breaks signal a change in POV! 

Here’s Part 3 of the Runaway Saga 🙈

The fire crackles in the hearth, little snaps punctuating the still air. 

You’ve been sat there for the best part of an hour, waiting for him to say something. Anything. The blanket pools around your shoulders as Michael trudges by and dumps himself in the armchair. You can’t help but feel responsible, a sting of guilt running through your body. You were pretty much clueless, but that doesn’t stop Michael from throwing you the occasional sour glare. His hands are clasped together as if he’s praying to his father for strength. Michael Langdon gives off the air of a man on the brink, lost and dazed from recent events. 

You pick yourself up from the sofa and kneel before him, close enough to rest your hand over his, ‘I didn’t know.’ You’ve repeated it so often over the past few days, but Michael still flinches every time you bring it up. ‘I had no idea Jim wanted to take me away from you.’ 

His golden hair falls limply down over his shoulders, ‘I know. You don’t have to keep saying it.’ 

Your phone lights up, resting on the sofa. Michael’s palm opens and your phone flies into his palm before you can stop him. 

He checks the Caller ID - Jim.

The phone goes flying, smashing against the wall, ‘Michael!’

He scowls darkly at the cracked screen, ‘I despise liars, Y/N.’ You retrieve your phone, still vibrating but you can’t unlock it and you don’t try. Michael heads to the balcony, his hand clench the railings tight. ‘At least Jim was right about one thing,’ He mutters. ‘This place is pretty much hell.’

You join Michael outside, the view mostly tiled ceilings and the blue sky. You both can hear the waves smashing against the shore even though you can’t see them. The cold seeps into your bare feet, but you ignore it and wrap your arms around Michael’s back. ‘I know you want time,’ You begin carefully, pressing your lips to Michael’s neck. ‘But ignoring them will only make things worse. They aren’t going to stop trying to reach us and soon one will show up here.’ 

You await his reply, knowing that you have to be patient with Michael. It takes so much for him to reveal himself, the insecure boy that hides underneath his impressive figure. You occasionally kiss that little spot, watching the shudders roll up Michael’s spine. It’s a sensitive area, one that usually has his mouth running, ‘I entertained the idea.’ Michael admits, ‘After Jim took you, I thought about being selfish. What I’d do if it was just us, when the world is dead and I decide how things are. But-’

‘But we are a team.’ You finish, ‘A unit that loves each other.’ He doesn’t answer and a sliver of fear runs through you, ‘Michael?’

‘I thought so.’ 

‘They love you.’ You reaffirm, ‘Jim and Duncan, they’re just being stupid-’

‘Maybe.’ 

‘Do you know something I don’t?’ You ask, ‘Have you heard something?’ 

Michael turns round. His arms slide up your arms, Michael just taking you in. You meet his blue gaze and then your eyes flicker down to the tremble of his hips. Michael brings your head to his chest, his large hand cupping the back of your head, ‘They love you.’ He throws my words back at me, ‘They love you more than me.’

‘That’s not true.’ You say at once, your voice a little muffled. ‘Duncan-’ 

‘Duncan was mine.’ Michael cuts over you, ‘Before you came along, before Jim there was the two of us. I brought him out of a very dark place and he was mouldable and did whatever I asked. We fell for each other with ease, things were good.’ Michael swallows, ‘I was the one who wanted more.’ He’s fighting back tears now, ‘I pushed Duncan to try with you and now I’ve lost him.’ 

His words have a salt sting to them and you find yourself backing out of his arms, ‘Are you saying, I stole Duncan from you?’

‘That apartment isn’t for me.’ Michael’s conviction is strong, ‘If it was, he’d have done it years ago.’

‘You’re blaming me?’ The hurt is evident in your voice, ‘I didn’t ask Duncan to do anything.’

‘Just like you didn’t ask Jim to steal you away either.’ Michael’s voice rises, ‘But where did it leave me, Y/N? Do you ever think about anyone but yourself?’

You swallow back your fury, ‘Do you think I am here for the good of my health?’ You question, ‘Do you think I’d be sat here like a hermit for the past however many days if I wasn’t for you? No I am here Michael, because you couldn’t face the other two. Because instead of confronting them and hearing what they have to say you’d rather smash my phone and hide away like a child.’

‘I AM NOT A CHILD.’ Michael thunders, ‘HOW DARE YOU?’

‘I will not sit by and let you blame me for what has happened.’ You’re not going to be intimidated by the Antichrist, ‘Grow the fuck up.’ 

You shove past him, but Michael catches your arm, ‘Wait, Y/N. I’m sorry.’ 

Your eyes fall onto Michael’s hand, bare and almost foreign without the accompaniment of his usual rings. When you catch his eyes the tears have finally fallen, ‘I don’t know what to do.’ He confesses, ‘I thought they loved me.’ 

‘You’re jumping to conclusions.’ You try and reason with him again, ‘You don’t know that they’re feelings have changed till you speak with them.’ 

‘Do you love me?’

Michael has always been there for you, more than any of the others. He’s the one to make your problems go away, the one stay up with late at night, sharing secrets with your heads next to each other. He’s your safety and you’re his lifeline, the calm one who knows just what to say to calm him. 

You can’t let him go.

‘Yes.’ 

He sweeps you back in, cradling your head close. ‘I’m so sorry.’ He kisses you deeply, ‘I can’t lose you too. I don’t want to.’

You put enough space between your lips to speak, ‘But you have to speak to them.’ You order, ‘If you can’t then I don’t think this can keep going on.’

Yes, Duncan’s staying with Jim, only because he can keep tabs on the nasty little manipulator. 

Jim tosses his phone across the breakfast bar, ‘She still isn’t answering. Neither’s Michael.’

‘I don’t blame her.’ Duncan says, ‘Not after what you pulled at the beach.’

Jim scowls right back, ‘You’re just mad that I got there before you. Trying to steal Y/N away from us, sequestering her away in New York? Did you think none of us would find out?’

‘I didn’t buy that fucking place for Y/N.’ Duncan snarls, abandoning his croissant. He bites his lip, but Duncan can’t take back the words that just spilled from his lips. 

‘You think I’m buying that BS?’ 

‘It’s the truth.’ He’s fucked it already, he may as well as come clean. 

Jim’s mouth opens to retort, but it snaps shut as he thinks things over, ‘You bought an apartment for who then?’

Duncan can’t look at him, not at the boy before him, the one who looks so murderous. How he misses the fondness that Jim used to hold in his eyes for him, that spark of green amongst the blue. 

‘For Michael?’ Jim guesses.

‘No.’

‘I dunno then, for your own personal escape from us?’

‘For you, Jim.’

It takes Jim a minute to comprehend, ‘What?’

‘You can be so fucking dumb at times.’ But Duncan doesn’t mean it, he never means it when he shouts at Jim. But Jim has made things so difficult lately. It broke his fucking heart to find him gone with Y/N, that he couldn’t get there first and swipe his Beach Boy away. ‘You had to make everything so difficult.’ The word vomit is spilling forth again, ‘You thought it was for Y/N and you flipped. I get that, but it was for you. I wanted to take you away, to meet my parents.’ Duncan takes in a deep breath, levelling Jim with his gaze. ‘I wanted you to be my boyfriend Jim, exclusively.’

He drops his eyes and picks up his plate. Duncan dumps his half-eaten croissant in the trash and starts washing the plate for something to do. Jim is horribly, eerily quiet still by the breakfast bar. He checks his phone but there’s still nothing, Jim’s a creature of habit just like Duncan whose own hand fishes out his phone and checks the time, scrolls through his Twitter. Anything is better than the silence between them.

‘Dunc,’ Jim begins. ‘I had no idea.’

‘I know,’ Duncan keeps his eyes glued to his phone.

Jim slides off his seat and walks over to him. He confiscates Duncan’s phone and the Mogul lets him, finally peeking at Jim’s face to get a read of what he’s thinking. Jim looks devastated, his forehead creased as he takes Duncan’s hand in his and holds it to his chest. Duncan knows it’s not good news. 

He always did.

‘You know that for me it’s Y/N.’ Jim says, so quietly Duncan almost misses it. ‘It’s always been Y/N.’

‘I know.’ He repeats, the words robotic and not his own anymore. 

Jim kisses the top of Duncan’s hand, ‘I’m so sorry, Duncan. The foursome thing, it’s great and I would still go for it now and then because, well damn. It’s fucking amazing.’ He’s trying to reach him, to make Duncan laugh but his heart is being yanked in two and all Duncan can do is turn away, looking out at the beach of Palos Verdes from the open window. Jim’s hand is on his shoulder, ‘But I meant what I said about it not being enough. I can’t keep going on the way we are.’

‘Do you think she would be with you?’

It’s a loaded question, an unfair one. 

Jim swallows, Duncan hears the sound. ‘I hope that after the couple of days we’ve had, yes.’

‘Even though you lied to her?’

‘Well I haven’t been the only one have I?’

Duncan shoves himself away, he can’t hear the derision that is definitely there in Jim’s voice. ‘Fuck you,’ He spits, heading to the bedroom.

Jim gives chase, ‘Duncan I didn’t mean. I just meant that we need to talk things through, it’s all become so messy.’

‘No we could have been okay.’ Duncan says, still marching. ‘If you had just waited I could have asked you and that would have been it. We could have carried on or faced it, but Michael hates us both and Y/N’s with him doing God knows what.’ He grabs the door, ready to shut it but Jim sticks his foot in the way.

‘What was I meant to think?’ He asks, ‘Duncan, I don’t want things to end this way.’

‘Well it has to.’

‘It doesn’t.’ Jim reaches to stroke his face, to touch his stubble but Duncan pushes him back out of the way of the door.

‘Look you just didn’t think, Jim.’ Duncan says, ‘I know that but I also need to have time to cope with this.’

Jim frowns, ‘What are you saying?’

‘I’m saying I’m not going back with you lot.’ Duncan’s made up his mind, the ice encasing over his heart. ‘I still hold a special place for Y/N and Michael but I can’t carry on pretending I’m okay sharing you.’

Jim tries to reach him but Duncan shoves him even harder. Jim’s calm snaps, ‘You’re fucking leaving us?’

‘Like you weren’t gonna do it first.’

‘Duncan this isn’t right. I didn’t know about this!’

‘Well you should have thought about someone’s happiness other than your own.’ His vision is blurred with tears. Duncan doesn’t get upset, but Jim Mason has damn well done it. Jim tries to get through the door once more, but Duncan’s fist connects before he can stop himself. Jim smacks against the wall, the bruise forming immediately on his skin. Duncan sucks in a breath, ‘I hope Y/N’s smarter than you think she is.’ His voice is hoarse, damaged from the hurt, the regret, from Jim. ‘I hope to God she never goes near you again. Because you took all of our happiness away when you took her here.’ 

He closes the door on Jim and locks it. Duncan waits, listening for Jim to pick himself off the floor and head back downstairs. There’s silence and then a sound like a wounded animal, Jim shrieks, a fist hitting the door. ‘DUNCAN!’ He screams, ‘You can’t say that to me!’

Duncan holds his breath, he doesn’t dare answer. His own tears are blinding him as he rests his forehead against the door, ‘Go away, Jim.’ He whispers, ‘Leave me in peace, give me that.’

How Jim heard him, he’ll never know. But Jim falls silent at once and then there’s the sound of footsteps and then silence once more. 

Duncan hides in the bedroom for three hours before he can bring himself to stop being a coward. He steps into the living room where every sign of another person has been removed. Jim’s gone and all that’s left is a scrawled note, crossed out in three places from where Jim tried to convey his feelings. Duncan can make out the large, ‘SCREW YOU.’ blackened out on the top right corner. 

It’s simple but effective - Going to get Y/N. Don’t contact me again.

When Jim arrives he half expects Michael to fling him against a wall. He may have even done so, if Y/N wasn’t there. 

‘Come in.’ She says, opening the door wide enough for Jim to enter with his suitcase.

‘Thank you for letting me stay.’ He avoids Michael’s gaze out of guilt. Duncan’s admission burns inside him and Jim can’t bring himself to even think in the Antichrist’s presence. Michael stands there in sweatpants and a t-shirt, his hair tied back in a low bun. Babyhairs escape here and there, making Michael look the most unkempt Jim has ever seen him. He pushes them behind his ears out of habit, his blue eyes darting between Y/N and Jim. 

‘Where’s Duncan?’ He asks, ‘I thought he’d be with you.’

‘Not after recent developments.’ 

It’s then Y/N notices the dark bruise on his cheek, she gasps dramatically and cups Jim’s chin in her hand at once, ‘Did he do  this?’

Jim nods, the guilt rising like bile in his throat. The memory of Duncan’s fist flashes in his mind and all it takes is a wince from Michael to know he’s seen it. ‘Take a seat.’ He offers, leading the way to the sofa and sitting down himself. Jim knows the drill and sits next to Michael who rests his palm against Jim’s bruised cheek. Michael’s eyes slip closed, his voice chanting low and then it’s all over. Jim runs his finger down his cheek to find it smooth and healed once more, ‘Thank you.’

Michael shrugs, it’s nothing to him after all. As easy as levitating a book.

Y/N remains standing, ‘I can’t believe he’d hit you.’ She says, ‘What is he thinking?’

Jim can’t hold it in any longer, ‘He told me some things.’

‘What kind of things?’ Michael isn’t making things easy. Not that Jim expected him to, the Antichrist’s guard is way up high, like brick-wall high. Y/N deposits herself on the armchair beside Michael and Jim can’t help but notice how Michael’s hand caresses her thigh. It’s an obvious claim he’s staking on her, right in front of Jim. 

He can’t be the one to tell him. He can’t.

‘Spit it out, Jim.’ Michael snaps, ‘I assume you’re here to carry on your holiday.’

‘Don’t be callous,’ Y/N warns, shooting Michael a warning look. ‘What happened, Jim?’ He tries to find the words, but they just aren’t there. How can he tell them that Duncan wants only him?

He can’t.

‘Oh fuck me.’

Jim’s eyes close, fucking Michael.

Y/N looks between Michael and Jim, ‘What?’

Michael seems frozen, his eyes penetrating into Jim. He can’t look away, it’s as if Michael is burrowing into his every thought and then it’s like someone has taken a melon-baller and brought up everything Jim as repressing to the surface. Duncan’s declaration explodes at the forefront of his mind, right for Michael’s viewing. The Antichrist’s breath hitches and then he’s up, pacing back and forth. ‘I can’t believe it.’

‘I didn’t know how to say.’ Jim explains quickly, looking to Y/N for support. 

She takes Michael’s place on the sofa, her hand sliding across to take Jim’s. ‘What’s going on, Jim?’

‘I’ll tell you what’s going on.’ Michael’s voice is raw, the pain doubled from the strain Y/N’s heard over the past couple of days. Michael sucks in a shaky breath, but he can’t hold it. His shoulders hitch and right as the thought to do something hits, Y/N’s already beaten him to it. 

’Breathe, Michael.’ She encourages, squeezing his hands and maintaining eye contact. 

The jealousy rears in Jim, despite his best efforts to quell it. He slides off the sofa to join the other two, not wanting to be left out or forgotten. ‘It could just be temporary.’ He offers, ‘I don’t know.’

‘Duncan bought the apartment for Jim.’ Michael spits the words out as if they are poison. 

Jim can’t watch Y/N. He can’t bear to see her in pain and he pulls her into his arms at once, ‘I didn’t know.’ He says, ‘I had no idea he felt that way or I’d have never just took you.’

‘What?’ He can hear Y/N’s voice go up an octave. She escapes Jim’s grasp and wraps her arms around herself, Y/N’s face contorts horribly as she too tries to keep her emotions in check. Michael’s doing a slight better job, still furious but when Y/N breaks down, covering her face he’s over in a heartbeat. Michael kneels down before her, ‘Y/N. We’ll sort this.’

‘He loves you?’ She questions, peering through her fingers to look at Jim. 

Tears pricks his eyes too, watching the people he loves be torn apart, ‘Yeah.’ 

‘Oh my god, what?’ The tears fall down Y/N’s cheeks, fast and heavy. ‘He planned to leave us?’

‘I don’t know,’ Jim admits.

‘It fucking looks like it.’ Michael says, ‘He went behind our backs. Was he even going to tell us?’

‘He must have.’ Jim says, ‘Duncan wouldn’t just fuck off.’

Jim’s body flies sideways and then he’s pressed against the wall, held there by magic. Michael advances on him, his hand closing around Jim’s throat. ‘This is all your fault.’ He spits, putting a light pressure on Jim’s windpipe. 

‘What?’ Jim squeaks, scrabbling against Michael’s grasp. ‘I didn’t do anything Michael, I didn’t know!’ 

‘You found out about the apartment and you took Y/N away from me.’ He spits, ‘And now you’re taking Duncan too.’

’No!’ Jim’s eyes bluge, reaching out to Y/N. But she isn’t looking at the boys, her gaze is locked on her knees. Frozen. 

‘You can’t have her.’ Michael shouts, ‘I loved you. I loved ALL of you.’

‘I know.’

‘I WON’T BE LEFT BEHIND!’ Michael screams, dropping Jim. 

The Beach Boy crumples on the floor, but Y/N still doesn’t come to help him. ‘Y/N?’

‘Get out.’

He blinks, Jim’s vision a blurry mess from Michael’s assault. Did he hear her right? 

Y/N lifts her head up, ‘GET OUT JIM!’

Jim picks himself off the floor, scurrying over to her. ‘Baby, please. I never meant-’

‘I know but I can’t see you right now.’ She cries, trying to wipe at her eyes. 

He produces a tissue from his pocket, wiping away at her face, ‘No, Y/N. Please don’t shut me out. All I want is you.’

‘You’re a fucking prick.’ Michael hisses, ‘You never loved me.’

‘Michael this isn’t just about you.’ Jim snaps, but he wishes he hadn’t. Why can’t he keep his mouth shut anymore, ‘This affect all of us. Our entire fucking lives.’

‘Too right it does,’ Michael fires back. ‘I’ve given up my cause for you all.’

Y/N’s just starting to get her breathing back under control, ‘We can’t lose Duncan.’

‘I think we have.’ Michael and Y/N’s eyes slide right to Jim, ‘I told him not to contact me.’

‘Oh, Jim.’ Y/N breathes, ‘But he loves you.

‘And I love you.’ Jim knows it in the depths of his heart, ‘I’m sorry, Michael. It’s not that I don’t have feelings for you, or Duncan and I may have said something things to both of you but-’

‘Don’t bother.’ Michael says, ‘I can take the hint. I’ll leave you two alone.’ 

Y/N reaches out for him, ‘No, Michael.’

But the Antichrist is gone, disappearing down the hallway. 

Y/N scrubs at her eyes, ‘So Duncan’s gone?’

‘I don’t know.’ Jim admits, ‘It’s all one big mess. I proved that I loved you when I took you with me and I told him not to contact me. Can you forgive me for lying to you?’

It takes her a while but Y/N slowly nods, ‘Never again, Jim.’ She says, ‘You can’t lie to me about anything.’

Jim takes her hand, ’I won’t.’ He kisses her forehead, earning himself a watery smile that disappears.

‘But I won’t leave Michael.’ 

He fights the rage surging once more, ‘Why?’

‘Because he needs me.’ She says, ‘And I love him, Jim.’

‘But you love me too.’

‘I love all of you.’ Y/N confesses, inspecting the marks Michael’s fingers left around Jim’s neck. ‘But this just isn’t working out.’ 

Fear grips him, ‘What do you mean?’

Y/N’s reached some kind of decision. Jim can see it and his stomach turns to lead, ‘I won’t abandon Michael for anything.’ She resolves. 

That’s it. The blow that crushes him, that snaps Jim in two. 

‘You’re leaving me?’ Jim’s sobbing before he can stop himself, ‘You’re choosing Michael Langdon? The fucking Antichrist?’ 

‘Stop it.’ Y/N hisses, ‘As if you care who he is.’ 

Jim hasn’t stopped holding her hand, ‘We have the chance to get out of this and live a life together.’ He urges, ‘You and me. I meant what I said, Y/N. About a family and everything.’

‘And where does that leave Michael?’

‘Why does he matter?’

‘Because you’re meant to love him too, Jim.’ Y/N voice rises, ‘Or was it all an act? Did you fake it just to get me because I can’t deal with you telling me that.’

Jim’s speechless. At first, maybe. But yes, feelings were caught and then the resentment started.

Y/N takes his silence as confirmation, ‘I need you to leave.’ She orders, ‘I need time to think.’ Jim shakes his head, but Y/N tugs her hand out of his grip, ‘If you love me, you’ll give me this.’

Y/N found him later in the bedroom. Michael’s curled up in the fetal position, his hair half coming out of his bun. He doesn’t care about it anymore. He feels numb, as if he can’t breathe properly. It’s the worst feeling he can ever imagine, worse than when his Grandma threw him out, worse than Ben Harmon’s rejection, perhaps even worse than when his Mrs Mead was murdered. ‘Oh my darling,’ He knows Y/N is there and chokes back the most pathetic sob when she wraps him up, spooning herself against him. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Why are you so good?’ Michael mumbles, ‘You should go, be with Jim.’

‘I don’t want to.’ She kisses him behind the ear, right on his devil’s mark. It tingles, just as it does every time Y/N kisses him there. ‘I’m staying right here.’

‘You’d risk a chance for happiness for me?’ Michael asks.

She doesn’t answer at first, ‘I love you all.’ She states, ’But clearly this foursome hasn’t worked out. Feelings have caught, all round.’

‘Not me.’ Michael’s adamant in that, ‘I still fucking love Jim despite everything. I love Duncan, how could I not?’ He rolls over onto his back so he can look at Y/N, ‘I love you so much.’

Y/N catches Michael’s hand, kissing his palm. ‘We need to take a break.’ She says, ‘All of us.’

‘No, Y/N please.’

‘I’m not leaving you.’ Her voice is firm, ‘I would never. Not after this, but a relationship just isn’t healthy right now darling.’

Michael swallows down his pain because she’s right. It doesn’t stop the tears from coming again, ‘So what does it make us?’

Y/N rests her head on his chest, ‘I don’t know.’ She says, ‘Something more than friends but not quite lovers.’

‘That doesn’t sound good.’

She laughs, ‘I told Jim to give me space.’

‘Good.’

‘I think I’m going to tell him the same thing.’ Y/N decides, ‘I don’t think we should see anyone for a while.’

He thinks it over long and hard, Michael’s fingers weaving their way into Y/N’s hair. She’s all he has left, so loyal. The only one to truly love him.

‘I think’s wise.’ He lets a tear drop down his face and watches it land in Y/N’s hair, ‘Jesus Christ my whole world is falling apart.’

Y/N nudges her head up, meeting Michael in a kiss. ‘Well let’s hope there’s still a chance to put it back together. For all of us.’ 

TAGGING: @langdonsrapture @langdonsoceaneyes @duncvn @ritualmichael @cryptid-coalition @sodanova @langdvn@lovelykhaleesiii @sammythankyou @kylosbabe @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @langdonsdemon @americanhorrorstudies @petersfern-fics @sojournmichael @starwlkers @ccodyfern @yourkingcodyfern @jimmlangdon @hanhanxx @cocosfern@thelangdoncooperative @queencocoakimmie @wroteclassicaly​ @moontheweirdpan @megacombusken @divinelangdon@starspangledfuck @cherryberryann @lambofcairo @ccodyfern@flowersiren @oldschoolhoe @chocolateandhorror @infernal-langdon @jim-mason22 @duncandimension @luxuryglitterhoe @langdonsinferno @astir-bread @amytakesmanhattan @i-will-die-for-jim-mason @mega-combusken @kahhlo @gremlinkween @satcnas @russianspacegeckosexparty @rosy-pugs @starwlkers @alexcornerblog @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 ​@michael-langdon-owns-my-soul and anyone I missed out I’m sorry the list is BIG! ❤️

[thepetulantpen]

Insecurity/Intimacy

(I’m so late it’s inexcusable but here’s day 2 of @widofjordweek ! I skipped day 1, but this pretty much fills those prompts anyway tbh.)

“Fjord, you’re an idiot. Just talk to him,” Beau rolls her eyes at Fjord’s terrified expression, “It’s not like you’re strangers. I’ve seen you seduce shopkeepers and pirates, this is not new territory for you.”

“But he’s,” Fjord cuts himself off, staring distractedly at Caleb, who’s dutifully studying at the bar even as Jester pesters him, “he’s so smart. And talented. I can’t measure up to that, I have no idea what I’m doing half the time.”

Looking at Caleb almost makes the whole situation worse, his careful poise and resolute concentration are something Fjord deeply respects, and fears he’ll never achieve himself. Memories of Caleb bending fire into precise and strategic configurations, and Caleb channeling the group’s energy into something productive, or at least not destructive, come to mind. To Fjord, it’s as if Caleb can control chaos itself, so unlike how Fjord lets it rule him and inform his stupidest decisions.

Beau watches as Caleb attempts to drink from his glass without taking his eyes off his book. Half the water misses his mouth and goes down his shirt, but instead of saving his clothes, Caleb starts fussing with his book, worrying over a few drops that may have gotten on the pages.

Fjord sighs next to her, looking at Caleb with dreamy eyes. He is in pretty deep.

“Yeah, real capable. But, hey,” she jostles Fjord to pull his attention away from Caleb, “you’re capable too. You’re cool, people like you. You’re cool, you’re handsome, and you can do this.”

Fjord looks at her, finally, and his eyes shine with insecurity. It’s weird to see that look on Fjord’s face, typically so composed and confident.

“You think so?”

“I know so, man. Now get over there before I have to kick your ass for being all mopey.”

...

“Caleb, you can’t run from your gay thoughts much longer,” Jester smirks and waggles her fingers in Caleb’s face, trying to get him to pay attention, “They’ll catch up to you eventually.”

“He’s out of my league, Jester, give it a rest already.” Caleb flips a page of his book, having given up reading an hour ago and now focusing on looking disaffected.

“He is not.”

“He is. Besides,” Caleb bites his lip, forcing his tone to be factual and dispelling any invading sadness, “I wouldn’t want to bring him down with all my worries and thoughts.”

Caleb doesn’t even want to look at Fjord, just the thought of him is intimidating enough. He imagines Fjord is sitting at the bar, suave as always with that easy, confident smile and decisive, unburdened charm, and talking up some stranger, winning them over with a few words and a wink. Sure, Caleb could do his fair share of convincing, but not easily, not confidently. Not like Fjord, who seems so free and unrestrained by his own demons, even numerous as they are.

Jester glances over at Fjord, who is openly staring at Caleb, longing weighing down his eyes and slight frown. If she could just get him to look up from his damn book, maybe Caleb could see it to.

“Caleb, just go talk to him. Have one fun night, it won’t kill you.”

Caleb levels her a Look and she giggles, then pats her bag.

“Even if it does, I’ve got my Revivify diamond ready to go.”

They have a short staring contest as Jester watches the thoughts turn over and over in Caleb’s head, deliberating until he finally gives up, giving into Jester’s pressure. Caleb sighs and very slowly closes his book. Infuriatingly, at least for Jester, he turns his back on Fjord to face her.

“You really think I should?”

“Yes, Caleb.” For everyone’s sake, please end the pining.

Caleb stands from his seat and walks down the bar, meeting Fjord halfway.

...

It’s a good night. It’s a simple, uncomplicated night.

It’s barely different from other nights- they talk and drink and tell jokes just the same as they have been in the months they’ve known each other. The only discernible difference is that they sit closer and don’t take their eyes off each other for hours. Everyone else fades from view until it’s just Fjord and Caleb.

They retire to Fjord’s room and it’s a weird feeling to know everyone is watching them, expecting them to, well, you know.

They don’t, for the record, but it doesn’t really matter because they’re in a room alone for the first time and there’s an even playing field in here, where they’re not a powerful wizard and a charming face-man. Just two people, struggling with an equal sense of not being enough.

They put aside all those insecurities- not handsome enough, not powerful enough, not smart enough- and just hold hands, pressed close against each other.

Fjord takes off his armor and Caleb takes off his coat. It feels nice to remove those layers and bear their real, vulnerable selves to each other, not because they need to but because they want to.

It’s intimate, but not intimacy like Fjord is used to. It’s not fast, it’s not hot, it’s not demanding.

It’s slow, warm, easy.

They bask in each other’s company, not needing to do anything but exist here. Warm body against warm body, pulse against pulse.

When their voices fade into the silence of the night and their joints start to ache from staying in the same spot for too long, they lay down together. Simply comfortable on the bed, under the covers. It’s warm, it’s nice, there’s no pressure.

“Caleb?” Fjord is loathe to break the silence, and this comfortable balance they’ve built in the dark, in their bed, but he does anyway because he wants to know.

“Mm?”

“What took us so long?”

Caleb laughs at that and turns over, tucking his head against Fjord’s chest. “I don’t know, but it was a rather big waste of time.”

“Heh, can’t argue with you there.”

Caleb clutches Fjord tighter and they both know the answer to Fjord’s question, but the moment is comforting anyway, a reaffirmation of these feelings they have and how good it feels to finally be able to indulge them.

Slowly, they fall asleep in each other’s arms and no dreams plague them that night.

They sleep and feel protected, safe, loved. They are enough. For each other, for themselves, for the world.

[artificialqueens]

Smoke & Mirrors (Scyvie/Branjie) - Part 2 - Saiphl

So… this took longer than I expected, but I’m back with the second part of this thing, I think it’ll last two or three more parts, but until I find out, I hope you enjoy the ride.

Again, I wanna thank Mistress for being the absolute angel she always is and betaing this second part.

Finally, this came more angsty than comforting, but, it’s Branjie, so you know it couldn’t be other way.

===============================================

Part 2. Taming all the noise inside my mind, aiming for perfection all the time

Vanessa was nervous, the moment he had feared for almost a year had finally come. She wasn’t ready for that. He wasn’t ready to actually face how the show, the timing and their own immaturity tore them apart. The night he’s got Brooke’s call, he was tempted to not pick it up, he wanted to ignore it and let his phone vibrate. He didn’t.

When Brooke knocked on her door coming from the airport he felt his heart skipping a beat. The same effect he once got as something good, now coming to be incredibly painful. It was something between them, one of them knocking the door, the other opening it with a cool face and a heavy weight on their bellies. The newcomer getting inside, and then everything going wild after the door clicked shut.

Brooke was kissing Vanessa greedily, with an urgency that tasted like longing and desperation. Then, the void on their chests growing heavy once they got apart, but this time was different, Brooke held him close, a possessive grip around the shorter man’s waist. Vanessa sighed, the familiar dizziness that followed one of his kisses clouding his mind. Brooke leaned to softly kiss Vanessa’s forehead, no words needed to explain what had just happened, a thousand more left untold, attempting to crush the fragile balance they’ve built after the break up.

“I’m sorry”, Brooke whispered.

“No… please don’t, we needed that”, Vanessa answered, closing his eyes and leaning his head on Brooke’s shoulder. “C’mon, let’s sit down,” he suggested, pulling Brooke to the closest couch, where they silently fell clinging on each other.

Brooke distractedly draw erratic patterns on Vanessa’s back, more to soothe himself than to comfort the other. Feeling that soothing proximity was something they craved more than they were really open to accept they needed. “I… just couldn’t wait.” Brooke’s voice just a doubtful whisper, his body vibrating in response to have Vanessa cuddled on his lap. “We have so much to talk about, so much to discuss… all of this is-”

“Too much, I know, the questions, the intrusion. I can’t, I just can’t keep pretending.” Vanessa said, snuggling closer, starting to feel inebriated with the scent of his skin. “I’ve missed you so much, hurts so bad, Brock… so painful, and we know there can’t be something else.”

Brooke gasped, then took a deep breath. He pulled Vanessa closer to him, still trying to find his voice. “Jose… I’ve got you back in that hotel, you’ve got me when everything was falling apart.” He cleared his throat, and kissed Vanessa’s temple. “I’ve missed you too… I’m done missing you all the time.” He pushed him a little, just to be able to look him in the eye. “I love you too, and I came here to get you back… we can try to make it work but we need to get rid of all that people nosing around.”

“What in your mind?” Vanessa asked, rearranging his position to look at Brooke.

“We tell them the truth… that we’re not together.” The words falling from his lips in a waterfall, while he listened to the idea. He was not convinced at all, but nothing made sense since the last time they’ve spent a night together. “Then we play the card of leaving an open door, but just for what concerns the show.”

Vanessa nodded lightly, still pondering what he said. “Let’s just… tell the truth, we can… we’ll figure everything else out after the damned finale and the fuckin’ reunion.” Brooke tightened the hold on the other man, his only relief, the scent of his dark skin.

‘Are you two still a couple?’ Vanessa twisted his lips, refusing himself to answer the question.

Disappointed, RuPaul then directed the same question to Brooke. ‘No, we’re not…’

The general gasp of their sisters wouldn’t make it to the final cut, that was sure. What was going to be there, was the uncomfortable expression from Nina and the dirty looks from A’keria and Silky. Also all the theories about them faking their relationship for the cameras, and how Brooke will take every single drop of guilt on his insecurities and fears.

‘Do you want to get back together?’ RuPaul asked, and both Vanessa and Brooke were caught out off guard. They knew they had to answer and they also knew that, the wrong words would, in fact, be used against them.

‘I’m not gonna say never… Like I still have feelings for you and you, I know you still have feelings for me.’ Vanessa nodded to Brooke’s words, the longing in the way they were looking at each other crystal clear. ‘And as long as we always have love for each other, anything is possible in future.’  The hug and the peck following all that circus was the reaffirmation Vanessa was looking for, and she was actually impressed of going back to her place with her legs wobbling on those six inch heels.

What followed the reunion, was something neither Brooke or Vanessa would really remember. Both of them still trying to regain composure and control over their shaking bodies. The same electric stream running through their bodies, threatening to expose what they half spoke the night Brooke arrived to LA. The second that production cut for a break, Vanessa stepped out his chair not even knowing where he was going, Brooke following his tracks.

Barely keeping the pace of the puerto rican, Brooke finally stretched to reach him by the arm. “Vanessa wait”, his voice breaking a little. “C’mon, talk to me, you know you can tell me anything.” Vanessa finally looked into his eyes, the pain reflected on them broke Brooke’s heart. He held his hands on his own, tightening the hold and channeling on it the hug he wanted to wrap him with.

A stream of tears fell freely down Vanessa’s cheek, drawing a clear line on the makeup. “I can’t… I just can’t…” Brooke kissed his forehead, then his nose, and finally landed a short peck on his lips. “This will break us Brock, the second they know, we’re fucked!” Desperation flooded his cracked voice. “I can handle your issues, your fears… even my insecurities and the distance, but not them tryin’ to catch a glimpse of this… of us.”

“It’s done, they won’t have a clue… they won’t figure it out if we’re careful.” Brooke whispered, leaning closer to Vanessa and tucking a strand of her wig behind her ear. “I can handle this Jose, I can handle you and me, and all of this… but that can only happen if you’re willing to really try.” The sound of a hurried pair of heels running down the hallway of the backstage made Brooke to shield Vanessa from any other sight. Scarlet passed by their side barely looking at them and going straight to the back door of the theater.

Vanessa looked again to Brooke’s eyes, the sadness in the background making him look even smaller. “Need to go, gotta leave this place.” The desperate whisper making Brooke wrap the other with his arms, the cape of his attire almost covering from one side.

“We’ll go soon, this is about to be over baby” Brooke said to his ear, and the other man sighed deeply. “We just need to keep going and we’ll be released, then we’ll go back to my hotel, and finish our talk.” Brooke’s voice got even lower, they couldn’t risk to be heard. “C’mon baby, just one more and we’re done.” Brooke kissed Vanessa one more time, and then parted ways, Brooke back to the stage, Vanessa going to the restrooms to fix his face.

Vanessa was the first to leave the theater, just taking off the wig and the outfit and putting on a hoodie to run out just in time to catch his Uber. Not even Silky and A’keria said a word, they knew how hard it had been for Vanessa. They knew how heartbroken and empty she’d been feeling since she and Brooke decided to break up. They even shielded him while he left.

Nina on the other hand, silently stood by Brooke, watching him closely while he meticulously got out of drag and packed what turned him into the gorgeous blonde bombshell that danced on the stage. When they finally ended de-dragging, Nina looked at Brooke, concern and sorrow reflected on his gaze. “Are you ok? What a stupid question, I know neither of you are.” Nina said, landing a hand on Brooke’s shoulder.

Brooke shrugged just to look back at his friend. “The best part of all this, is that it’s over, I don’t think I could handle another question… all of this is just breaking what’s left of us.” Nina wrapped his arms around Brooke, who finally let himself to cry a bit. “I can’t handle how hurt he is, it’s even more painful than that night…”

Nina nodded once, of course he remembered that night. The night when they fell down the infinite spiral of sorrow they were trying to climb out of. “Go to him, you have a lot to talk about.” He said into Brooke’s ear, the canadian immediately nodding to those words. He broke the embrace and wiped the tears away with the back of his hand. A tiny somber smile that didn’t reach his eyes parted his lips. Brooke left.

Jose entered to Brooke’s room with the key card he slid into his pocket back in the theater. He couldn’t help but smile slightly. They’ve learned to exchange the keycards of their hotel rooms back in the filming time, when everything was new and had the taste of adventure. He remembered those as the good times of their relationship, when everything was sweet and bright, and they were so infatuated that keeping hands to themselves was a true achievement.

The room smelled like him, like his vanilla shampoo and his aftershave lotion. He never thought that he would miss the cigarette smell, but that note being lost left him feeling a little odd. The scolding spring sunlight languidly caressed the cheap carpet on the floor and he went straight to the window to let the air in. He closed his eyes and the weight of his 301’s reminded him that Vanessa was still there. Reluctantly he walked back to the bathroom, the makeup on his face suddenly too heavy to wear.

A soft knock sounded on the door and Jose ran to open it, his hair damp and now the mixture of their aftershaves filled the air. Brooke stared at Vanessa just to exhale the breath he didn’t knew was holding. He rushed inside, and the door locked behind them. This time, it was Vanessa who took the other by assault, kissing and touching him like he was trying to convince himself Brooke was real. The taller man held him closer, and buried his nose on the mess of his hair. He missed that so much, he missed the soothing and safe sensation that having his scent close gave him.

Before they could even think about it, they fell on the bed. A living mess made of limbs and sloppy kisses, the contrast of Brooke’s fair skin with the beautiful golden tone of Vanessa’s creating the most beautiful collage ever seen. Their hardness grinded on each other’s begging to find release. A loud groan surged from Brooke’s throat, the one that brought Vanessa back to the moment. Back to all the things he thought and promised to tell once he was ready.  “I love you,” the only one slipping from his lips, making Brooke to look him in the eye.

“I love you more…” Brooke answered in a chuckled whisper, the friction in the right part of his body threatening to make him forget what he wanted to say. “And I’m gonna regret this in a couple of hours, but that is why we need to talk.” He forced himself to separate from Vanessa and refocus on the conversation. A whine escaped Vanessa’s lips and then, stealing one more kiss, he untangled himself from the other man’s body.

Vanessa looked at Brooke, who was actually taking deep breaths to soothe. “So, for them we’re not a couple, we haven’t been for at least eight months.” The weight of the words fell over their shoulders simultaneously. Both of them averted their eyes, neither one ready to face how deeply hurt inside the other was.  “What I mean, they’ll think we are trying to move on. But, that’s not what I want…” Brooke cupped Vanessa’s face with a hand, lifting it up to be able to look into his eyes.

“And what do you want?” Vanessa asked, his voice starting to crack. “Because I’m far from moving on… I don’t think I’ll ever be… I… at least, not anytime soon.”

Brooke nodded, more to reassure the other man than as an affirmation. “I want us back together.” Brooke said, the words falling from his lips with the softness of the summer wind. “I want you… if you’ll take me back…”  Vanessa looked at him, reaching shyly to hold one of his hands.

“Not that easy… sure we can try but, there’s some shit we have to figure out.” His voice was husky and low, a dark gloom reflecting on his eyes. “I can work with the distance, the schedules and my feelings, but I can’t take you not being faithful.”

Brooke groaned, the memory of the fights over Vanessa’s jealousy and his inability to keep it in his pants the actual thing that broke them up. “I’m up to try, I… I just can’t keep doing this, I can’t be missing you in the middle of whatever city I am and do lousy attempts to fill the void. I can’t keep lying to myself, when the only moment that everything felt right, was when I was sleeping with you in my arms.” His voice sounded frustrated, desperate, pleading. “Nothing compares to the peace I feel when you’re with me.”

A pregnant silence fell over the hotel room. “What if you can’t help it? What if your drunk ass make you fall? Tequila and longing are the worst combo in human history!” Vanessa spit, her own fears coming out and he didn’t have the strength to hold them back. “You can bet I’m only yours, how do I know you’ll do that for me, Brock?”

He looked down, not knowing how to answer that question. It wasn’t that he was a manwhore, but the mere idea of being in an exclusive relationship where they were gonna spend lots of times apart felt wrong. He was a man, a very sexual one, whose relationship with the man in front of him started with a shy lust that became something more. “You know I love you Jose,” he said, feeling trapped. “In my defense, I’ve been sober for almost a month, both cigarette and tequila.” He smiled, his defense somehow sounding kinda childish. “I’ve changed, and I’m still changing. I can’t promise that the need will go, but I can promise to fight it.”

Vanessa jumped out of bed, the movement so sudden that scared Brooke. “Dunno, I need to think, need to go.” He said, turning as fast as he left the bed and took his gym bag from the floor. Brooke left the bed behind him, reaching the door before it could actually get shut, he grabbed the keycard from the light switch and went right behind Vanessa. His long legs easily coping with the fast pace he took.

Reaching to catch his arm, he pulled him closer. “Please don’t go, we can figure this out, just don’t run.” He pleaded, his voice even lower. The hallway between the lines of room doors was empty, soft background noise coming from some of them. Vanessa looked at him, helpless, the sheer confusion irradiating from her eyes. “Stay and let me prove I mean it,” said Brooke, just before leaning to kiss him again.

The soft moan that escaped Vanessa’s lips sounded like a promise; the one that came from Brooke’s throat, like a plea. Both of them so invested on each other that they didn’t hear the sound of someone’s ouch and almost fall, until the doorknob clicked opening the door. Instinctively, Brooke turned to face the door shielding Vanessa with his body, an apology ready to leave his lips any second, until he saw the face sneaking behind the door.

“I wanted some ice and…” said the embarrassed voice coming from the room door.

“What the…” Brooke whispered, both amused and relieved of seeing a familiar face, but also starting to feel panicked of being caught by one of their sisters. The other girl quickly glanced around before she opened the door, letting them in. “You scared the shit out of us, Scarlet!” Brooke hissed, feeling Vanessa tiptoeing behind him to see Scarlet.

What they weren’t expecting, was the second voice that came from the back of the hotel room, followed by no other than a barefoot and topless Yvie. He rubbed his sleepy eyes. “Babe? Jake where are you?”

Both Brooke and Vanessa gasped in surprise. Of all the things that they could’ve found out, and all the secrets kept behind doors, this was the one they would have never expected.

“I’m right here hun, just chewing out Branjie for disturbing your beauty sleep.” Said Scarlet, gravitating towards Yvie, who wrapped him with his long arms and kissed his temple.

[the-girl-who-sang]

October 26, 27 & 29th  of 2019: The Day that the Show was on Earth and the Spectators were the Stars in the Sky

October 26, 27 & 29th of 2019: The Day that the Show was on Earth and the Spectators were the Stars in the Sky

Start this message may be complicated, cause I feel my heart already hurting in yearning, but the memories that we created were so bigger and brighter than my small sadness, that I couldn't let this pass...

So here I'm writing you this words, that try to contemplate all the immensity of my truly love and appreciation for you, in the purest and uninterested way... 

Leaving from beginning, I feel like I have a beautiful story to tell. 

When the Love Yourself Tour where announced, I felt an indescribable euphoria. I thought that finally, I would be able to accomplish my biggest dream: go to your show and, make of this show, the first show of my life! But, unfortunately, there were no dates for Brazil.

But life is a surprise-box and, when you least expect it, something wonderful happens, something unexpected and so amazing, that you feel your breath fade and your smile taste like salt. And that was what happened for me. 

Few time later, new dates where announced and, what was my surprise, when I saw that my country, that Brazil were in middle of them! The joy and the emotion ran through my veins! Everything was perfect! That was a sign... A sign that I would have my chance.

But things wouldn't be that easy...

Between all that happiness and excitement, a harsh reality hit me hard: don't matter how much I wanted go to that show, I wouldn't be able. I don't had the money to do this! 

My dream, that for some moments were the sweetest and were so close of the touch of my fingers, like in a blink of an eye, disappeared, right in front of me, leaving behind, a bitter and suffocating taste.

So I cried... I cried because it hurted. So much. So much, that it doesn't fit into words. Was my dream, the thing I most wanted, the gift I wanted for my birthday right there, so close, but so far away...

I talked with my family and, even with all the problems, even with all the difficulties, frustrations and conflicts, they told me to try. And I tried... Putted on all my faith and wish, but wasn't enough. No, I couldn't. The defeat came mercilessly, got down like acid, and again I found myself alone, without friends, without joy, without hope...

This year, like the last two years, have been very difficult, I suffered pitiful losses, and my heart couldn't stand no more patches. I was broken and my only hope of joy had been torn from me.

Back to the beginning, I was... Destroyed, destroyed, exhausted. I could only accept the fact that, once again, I could not realize my dream. And that was, in fact, my last chance and so I had lost everything.

But... Do you know the expression that says 'miracles are real'? So, let me tell you a secret: this is true. And I can confirm, cause I received a miracle. 

Missing only 4 days, for the 1º show of the Love Yourself - Speak Yourself Tour in Brazil, just like a miracle, I finally received the bless of can get my tickets. It were necessary some minutes for I can realize that it were really happening. Then I cried and laughed, jumped, screamed, and thanked... I thanked that because it was undoubtedly the best birthday present I could ever want! 

I would really go to the BTS show with my mom! My dream was real! And in that moment of excitement and euphoria, I could only remember the words that a kind and sweet friend said, in a very hard moment...

The impossible is possible. And he was right.

May 25th of 2019 were the best day of my life. 

I never imagined my heart could overflow that way. It was so much love, so much emotion, so much affection, care and feeling. I never imagined that my soul could transcend my body, surpass all the limits of the possible and the impossible, only to unite with infinity in the fullness of that moment.

What I felt that night will never leave me. It's carved in my bones, drawn in my memories, painted in my eyes, overflowed through my blood, sweat and tears. I will never forget that day, and that day will never fade from me.

Never, in all my life, to feel so full and complete. As if I be in that place, beside my mother and so many unknown souls, before you, was my destine, my true place in this world.

After that day, a lot changed... Inside me. Chaos went on outside, but every time he tried to destabilize or hurt me, the memories of those moments of pure joy, the voices, the smiles, the kind words came just like spotlights, driving the darkness away, rescuing me from evil. And once again, I felt safe.

You became my home, my safe place, my point of peace. And no word  in the world can express the meaning of this. 

Time passed...

And here we are. Many things happened, problems, difficult situations, uncertainties and insecurities; it's being one year & two months since the beginning of this journey... And what a journey! So full of teachings and learning.

In all this time, we have being strong... We fight daily with our demons, fears, insecurities. And we won. Every single day. Together, as always.

I think that, you feel the same that me, but I need to express it out loud.

This era, the Map of the Soul - Persona - and equally your forerunner, Love Yourself, have a very deep and important meaning to me. Since you started this campaign of self love, I felt like it was a call to my awareness, a stimulus to make me see things I didn't want. Know, I've always had self-esteem issues, I could never find myself beautiful or interesting, and I got used to people reaffirming my insecurities. It turns out that after so long, the marks surfaced and scars began to appear, many of them. Emotional and psychological.

I tried to avoid them, forget them for too long, until I reached a point where there was no escape. I had nowhere to run and was already tired of feeling so small, inferior, unworthy of all that is good or beautiful.

Thanks to you guys, I decided to change... Or at least give it a try. I decided try to look at myself with other eyes, try to appreciate my qualities and give more value to my skills and talents. And I have been following this journey. It is not always easy. There are days when I look in the mirror and feel so ashamed of the reflection that looks at me, I just want to cry and hide, but I remain strong. I don't hurt the body in which habit anymore - or at least I try - with bad words or thoughts.

I'm getting a little better every day. And all this, thanks to you. Whenever I think of something bad about myself, I try to imagine their faces, their soft voices saying sweet words to me, reminding me that my life matters and that I have value.

And so I have been following, one day at a time. And if one day is too much, one hour, or one minute, or one second at a time... Taking a deep breath and doing my best to make my dreams come true. And I will make it! I know I will... And you will still be very proud of me!

But how we know, nothing last forever...

October 26th arrived, I felt something different. I shivered and was afraid, because I knew what it was, but I tried to send to the ends of reason, the real motive for that little pain in my chest. Sometimes, the truth is painful.

October 27th also arrived and one more time, I felt the sensation of lost embracing me, like a cold hug of goodbye. Then, I felt sad, but tried to keep my mind positive.

But when irrevocably, the October 29th came, something stranger happened. My mind understood it before my heart do. The second, bubbling in an explosive mixture of longing, sadness and gratitude, finally fell silent at the insistent whisper of truth: the end has come... And this is a true I don't wanted to face. But we need...

Thinking now, after cry a lot, seeing fancams, photos, videos and messages, I understand the meaning of all of this. It's all about love. Your love, our love. It's all about give love, live love, share love. In the end, it's not about awards, charts or profits. This is nice, but isn't everything. What really matters, is what we give and gain free, from the bottom of our souls.

All the things we lived together, through all those months, teached me that life is prettier then we think, and all we need is honesty, humility and love. A truly & honest love.

And all this story brings me till here, till the last page of this journey that, in fact, is so far away of the end. Yes, this isn't the end. It's just the beginning! An incredible new beginning, full of new emotions & magical memories!

Today, October 29th of 2019, marks the day we surpassed the limits of what is impossible and what isn't. Today, we made the stars as the the spectators of our show of love, respect and support. In this night, the lights were on earth and the audience, in the universe, appreciating the masterpiece of our love.

Now, we will begin a new journey together. New plans will come, new dreams, new songs, memories, colours and learnings. We will grow up even more. Together, as always.

Cause we're made of love... And love last forever!

I wanted to thank you all for everything. Thank you for all your hard works, passion, dedication and devotion. Thank you for be so strong. Thank you for never give up. Thank you for keep your mind and feelings safe. Thank you for be my peace. Thank you for give me hope.

I'll love you forever... And beyond the forever!

Tomorrow, will be a new day. When you open your eyes, remember what I’ll say: you’ll never be alone, we will always love & support who you are inside, don’t matter what happen. And most important of all: remember that I love you, and I'll always be here, for you and with you!

Can't wait to see you all again, shining brighter then the stars, in the sky, cause you're my galaxy and together, we make the universe, a sigh of eternity!

Forever by your side...

Yasmin de Carvalho - Brazil. 29/10/2019, 23:59hs. 

[jiayuki]

Yoonkook daemon!au

Show you Me, Give You Me

13k of fluff and feels, and only warning is of a very brief gory scene. 

Somewhere between the cracks of gummy smiles and quiet nights in a dimly lit studio, Jungkook falls in love with Yoongi and his gentle soul.

But somewhere between the twisting cracks of his mind and the memories of harsh, whispered words slicing through his defenses, Jungkook also learns to hide and conceal, to bury his love deep. So deep that it can't seep out, even when he cracks.

(daemon!au where Jungkook grows up and learns that to love is to trust.)

Read on AO3 or below!

i.

When Yoongi meets Jungkook, the first thing he notices is his daemon.

It’s flickering between forms so rapidly that Yoongi can barely keep up—rabbit, moth, frog, owl, a large dog, ermine, a finch, and on and on. The boy himself stands in the entrance of the Bangtan dorm, half hidden behind the door, wetting his lips nervously when he notices Yoongi staring. He’s so young.

“Hi, I-I’m, um, Jungkook?” He says uncertainly, dark eyes wide as he shifts from foot to foot. “And, I think I’m supposed to, um, move in today? O-or, I mean, I’m supposed to move in today.” He flushes at his own stuttering, looking like he wants to drown himself in his oversized hoodie, and his daemon shifts into a mouse, chittering in agitation and tugging on Jungkook’s loosened shoelace.

The boy’s so painfully shy that Yoongi almost feels bad for him.

“Yeah, kiddo. I’m Yoongi. We heard that another member was joining today.” Yoongi waits for him to respond, but Jungkook only shifts nervously.

For once, Yoongi wishes Taehyung and Jimin were here, or maybe Hoseok. Any one of them could do a better job at melting through Jungkook’s skittishness than he could. But Yoongi’s the only one home right now, so he takes a deep breath and tries again. Hopes he doesn’t accidentally screw this up.

“How old are you? And what’s your daemon’s name? They didn’t tell us anything other than you were coming.” Yoongi strokes the ears of his own daemon, who had settled in the form of a silverish cat when Yoongi turned seventeen. “This is Moonyeon, by the way, but we just call her Moon.”

“Moon,” Jungkook repeats, smiling bashfully when she flicks her tail lazily in acknowledgement. “I’m fifteen,” he adds, “and my daemon’s name is Haru. He’s—he’s not usually this…um, this volatile.” Jungkook seems a little distressed as Haru changes into a chameleon, clinging to Jungkook’s pant leg, and then drops down between his feet and lands as a palm-sized turtle. “Haru, please. You’re making us look spastic,” he whispers, and the turtle morphs into a hedgehog, slumped sulkily over Jungkook’s shoe.

So young, Yoongi thinks again. No wonder his daemon hadn’t settled yet. Most daemons settled around eighteen, some of the earlier ones around seventeen. By the time children began to enter adolescence though, the majority of daemons slow down their shifting, picking several preferred forms to transform between. Yoongi’s never seen a daemon shift so much.

Moon had been one of the lazier ones—she’d found a preference for staying in feline form in Yoongi’s early childhood, and he could only ever remember her shifting between two or three breeds based on her mood or Yoongi’s needs.

“You don’t…you don’t mind that Haru’s a male?” Jungkook whispers, breaking Yoongi out of his thoughts. And now that the older boy observes more closely, he can see that Jungkook holds himself tensely, an edge of fear and apprehensiveness in the set of his mouth. He scoops up Haru protectively, and the hedgehog transforms into a python, wrapping defensively around Jungkook’s small form.

Moon lifts her head at that, blinking open narrow golden eyes. She sniffs and leaps to the floor lightly, nonchalant as she ambles up to Jungkook, tail flicking back and forth. She gives Haru a cursory sniff and sits back on her haunches.

“We could give less of a crap about gender,” she rasps, voice sandy and deep. Yoongi snorts in exasperation. Tactful as usual. Moon hold’s Haru’s gaze unflinchingly, completely unfazed by the other daemon’s threatening form.

Yoongi smiles wryly. It is uncommon for one’s daemon to be the same gender, something that’s stigmatized and treated like a disease in their culture.

He’s witnessed parents, whispering and glaring, pulling children away from same sex human-daemon pairs; he’s seen news sources and even his own traditional-minded family discussing how these people must have some sort of spiritual or personal defect since daemons were manifestations of the soul.

The way that Jungkook holds himself tells Yoongi everything he needs to know.

“I don’t care either,” Yoongi reaffirms, finally standing to approach the younger boy. Yoongi watches as Jungkook’s expression relaxes a fraction, and Haru slowly uncurls from Jungkook’s shoulder, dropping down to the ground as tabby housecat to match Moon.

Purring softly, Moon rubs her face against Haru, who bumps under her chin with his nose. “It’s nice to meet you,” Haru says, and his voice is just as soft as Jungkook’s. His tail twitches in embarrassment now that he’s finally calmed down. “It’s just that—that no one ever accepts us right from the start, other than our family.” He touches his flank to Moon’s.

“You don’t have to worry about that with us,” Yoongi replies, ruffling Jungkook’s hair. The younger boy startles, cheeks blushing pink. “Namjoon and Hoseok might be surprised, but they’re both open-minded, ok? I can’t speak for the other boys that are joining soon, but I trust that Bang PD-nim chose good people. And here, I’ll help you with your bags.” Yoongi brushes past Jungkook to pick up the bags that were abandoned at the doorstep.

“You can call me Yoongi-hyung. And Moon-noona for Haru,” he adds, and Jungkook hurries behind him with another backpack and suitcase as he leads them toward Namjoon’s room. “Get settled, alright? You’re rooming with Joonie and Iseul.”

“Joonie? Iseul?” Jungkook asks, brow crinkling. He looks worried again, the same insecure anxiety that he had arrived with bleeding back into his face.

Moon barks out a husky laugh. “It’s Namjoon-hyung to you, and his daemon’s name is Iseul. Yoongi and I are nineteen, and Joon and Iseul are a year younger. Those two are the least of your worries; we can all guarantee that they’ll welcome you openly.”

“Iseul’s a late settler though,” Yoongi adds. “She likes staying as an owl, but don’t be surprised if you catch her trying something else.” Like a baby elephant. Iseul is one of the gentlest daemons Yoongi has ever met, but she has a thirst for curiosity to match Namjoon’s ever expanding intellect. They had all found Iseul testing strange forms at the most inconvenient of times, never able to pick one shape to settle in.

“Call if you need any help, ok?” Yoongi turns to leave, thinking that Jungkook might need some space, and Moon gives Haru an affectionate lick before leaping onto Yoongi’s shoulder.

“I—okay,” Jungkook says hesitantly.

Yoongi raises a brow but doesn’t push, already a step out the door.

“Wait!” Jungkook calls, and Yoongi pivots back around, expectant. Haru is tucked in the cradle of Jungkook’s arms now, and the boy ducks his face into the fluffy ears of—what is it, a rabbit now?

“I just…um, wanted to say thank you, Yoongi-hyung.” He mumbles into Haru’s thick pelt. “And Moon. Thank you.”

Yoongi doesn’t need to ask what for, warmth blooming in his chest.

“Mhmm, anytime, kiddo.”

ii.

Introductions go fairly smoothly from there, and for the most part, the boys seem more delighted to meet Jungkook and Haru than anything else. Yoongi watches quietly from the sidelines, both Moon and himself passive but attentive.

Seokjin joins soon after Jungkook, followed by Taehyung and Jimin. Yoongi can tell that it sooths Jungkook to have a couple boys closer to his age in his dorm, and Seokjin and his daemon adopt a strange role between a overprotective parent and a playfully antagonistic older brother. It also doesn’t hurt that all of the members find their maknae unbearably adorable, but Jungkook still remains anxious in the early months of living in their new home.

Yoongi is content to let Jungkook come into his skin at his own pace, but he draws the line when he catches Jungkook showering at three in the morning.

He’s returning from another late night at the studio, when he hears the water running in the single bathroom they all share. Furrowing his brows, he toes off his shoes and hangs up his coat by the doorway, checking his watch quickly.

3:22 am.

That’s pretty late for even Yoongi, and no one had dance lessons today either. Which begets the question, who the hell is showering at this time?

The water shuts off, and less than a minute later, the door cracks open, Jungkook stepping out in a towel. Haru ambles behind him in the form of a palm-sized turtle, looking content to be waterlogged.  

Jungkook yelps when he sees Yoongi. “I—I thought everyone was sleeping already—”

Yoongi crosses his arms, unimpressed. “Is that why you’re showering right now?”

Jungkook shuffles his feet self-consciously, drawing his towel tighter around his hunched shoulders. “I—I…” he drops his eyes sheepishly, “yeah…”

Yoongi is about to scold him about regular sleeping patterns, despite the clear hypocrisy, but he finally notices Jungkook shivering, cold droplets of water running from his hair down his neck. Haru has hunched down into his shell, pressed against Jungkook’s leg for warmth.

“Come on, Kook,” Yoongi sighs. He grabs another towel from the rack in the bathroom and drapes it over Jungkook’s wet hair, gently drying him off. “Let’s go to sleep, okay? It’s late. And no more three am showering. We all know to respect each other’s boundaries by now, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Jungkook nods silently.

“If someone’s giving you a problem, just tell hyung, alright? We’re going to be living together for a long time if things go as planned, so we can’t let problems fester.”

Eyes widening, Jungkook shakes his head. “No! It’s not that, I swear. No one’s giving me trouble. It’s just… sometimes my head gets really loud and I don’t know what to do or where to go. Like, like my head and hands and chest and everything is buzzing, and it—it’s too much. And I just want to hide.”

Oh. Yoongi mulls that over. Thinks of Jungkook’s anxious appearance when they had first met, his nervous stuttering around the managers and stylists, and now, his middle of the night showering habits. Yoongi had thought Jungkook was just shy, but maybe it was a little more than that.

“Well,” Yoongi offers, “hyung’s mind is kind of like that too”—except it doesn’t make him anxious, it just makes his thoughts turn dark and melancholy—“so why don’t you come over to my studio the next time that happens? Or send me a message, and I’ll come home, if it’s in the middle of the night.”

“Really?” Jungkook says doubtfully, but a flicker of hope sparks in his eyes. “But…but I don’t want to bother you if you’re working.”

Snorting, Yoongi rubs Jungkook’s hair with the damp towel one last time. “Trust me, I spend half my time there frustrated or watching cat videos anyway. Company would be nice.”

“I…okay then. If you don’t mind.” Jungkook cracks a small smile, the dredges of anxiety in those chocolate eyes finally melting away.

“I really don’t,” Yoongi assures him. Then he snaps the damp towel at Jungkook’s towel-covered rear lightly, grinning when the younger boy squeaks. “Off you go then, maknae. It’s late enough as it is.”

“Says the hyung who never sleeps,” Jungkook shoots back cheekily, and Yoongi blinks in surprise as the younger boy scampers away, Haru scurrying beside him as a little black bunny.

“He’s not wrong, you know,” Moon says, amused.

“He’s not,” Yoongi agrees, and he laughs quietly to himself, smiling softly as he pads toward his own bedroom. Brat.

iii.

Jungkook and Yoongi begin to grow closer over the months, discovering a shared love for lamb skewers, sharing song lyrics, and bonding over late nights in the studio watching Studio Ghibli films when they should be sleeping or working. Jungkook’s birthday passes, and Yoongi is content to see him settle into both the dorm and his own skin a little more, not nearly as skittish and much more mischievous than he was before.

They’ve become a duo within the group, and it doesn’t escape the other members’ notice that Yoongi welcomes physical affection far more when it’s with Jungkook. It also isn’t difficult to see Jungkook’s face light up when he’s with Yoongi, the way he just laughs more.

Sooner or later, Yoongi knows their relationship is bound to draw some commentary from the members, whether it be teasing or fond. Having that vague inkling doesn’t mean Yoongi expects it any more when it’s sprung on him though.

Hoseok wanders into the kitchen one morning, gaze flickering between Yoongi and the open doorway to the living room where Jungkook and Jimin are. Yoongi’s facing the pair from his position at the table, and despite her closed eyes, Moon also has her ears pricked up in their direction.

“You two are pretty protective of Jungkook and Haru, aren’t you,” Hoseok observes, grabbing orange juice out of the fridge. His daemon, only recently settled as a stoat, unfurls from around his neck and bounds sleepily over to Moon, attempting to curl up again on the older daemon’s back.

“Sunhi, get off. You’re heavy,” Moon mutters, cracking an eye open. She rolls over, shaking off the insistent ball of tawny fur trying to cling to her side.

“Aww, but you’re never like this with Haru,” Sunhi whines as she finally gives up and meanders back to her perch around Hoseok’s shoulders.

“Because Haru never tries to suffocate me like you do,” Moon sniffs back. Her tail flicks in irritation, only calming when Yoongi runs a hand through her pelt soothingly.  

Jungkook’s and Jimin’s uncontrollable laughter, as well as some loud, discordant squawking filters through the doorway, and Yoongi’s face melts into something fond.

Then he turns around and sees Hoseok air-sipping directly from the carton.

“Disgusting. Are you a caveman? Go get a glass.” Yoongi’s nose wrinkles, and Hoseok’s mouth drops at the betrayal.

“Are you kidding me?” Hoseok squawks. “Jungkook literally did this two days ago and you didn’t even bat an eyelash. What is with this selective vision?” Selective treatment, more like, Hoseok thinks sulkily, pulling the cupboard open.

Another shriek of giggles erupts from the living room, and Yoongi attention slides away from Hoseok.

Apparently selective hearing too now. Hoseok sighs and pours himself half a glass of orange juice. This is tyranny.

Moon stands up, stretching lazily. “C’mon,” she rumbles at Yoongi, springing to the ground and stalking toward the doorway. “I want to play too.”

Yoongi rises without complaint, and Hoseok stands by the open fridge, frozen with a half-full cup of juice in one hand and the carton in the other. He blinks in disbelief. Hoseok can’t remember the last time Moon willingly did anything other than eat, sleep, and complain, much less play. And Yoongi…Yoongi willingly following along to ‘play’? Not even Taehyung and his daemon’s puppy pouts had been able to achieve that.

What in the actual hell—

Realization hits him like a truck.

“You LIKE—” Hoseok gasps, and Yoongi shoots him a glare that practically dares him to finish.

“I do not,” he spits, but the pink on his cheeks betrays him. “For heaven’s sake, he’s sixteen. And a literal and figurative child.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes. “Whatever, your soft little heart would never do anything but pine anyway. Still, you think he’s cute—”

“Everyone thinks he’s cute,” Yoongi valiantly tries to defend himself, but Hoseok just snorts.

“Hyung, you’re in denial. Accept the fact that you’re in looo—”

Hoseok shrieks as Yoongi tries his damnest to smother him. Jungkook’s head swivels around at the commotion, and Yoongi immediately drops his grabby hands, shooting daggers at a breathless Hoseok.

Oh man, if looks could kill.

“Whipped. So whipped,” Sunhi whispers, cackling, tail thumping in mirth.

Done. Sealed. Absolutely confirmed, Hoseok thinks gleefully. He gives Sunhi’s tiny paw a hi-five.

iv.

Namjoon shares the few recording studios with all the other Bighit artists, but by one in the morning, it’s usually only Yoongi and himself that are still there.

“How do you think it sounds?” Namjoon asks, turning up the speaker volume for Iseul to hear. She’s decided to use Namjoon’s left arm as a tree trunk, dozing quietly as a koala as he works endlessly into the night.

“Mmm. Good,” she mumbles.

Namjoon sighs. “You say everything sounds good, Iseulie, even when it’s not.”

Yawning widely, Iseul blinks blearily at Namjoon. “You’re too hard on yourself sometimes, Joonie. It really does sound good.” The demo track continues to play, and Iseul shifts into her usual pygmy owl form and flutters onto Namjoon’s head, burrowing herself comfortably into his hair. The clock in the corner of the room chimes once to indicate the hour.

“And I think it sounds like it’s time to go home. Why don’t we go find Yoongi and remind him to get some sleep too? Moon-unnie never drags him home like I keep telling her to.”

“Just half an hour more, Is,” Namjoon tries, but Iseul hoots in disapproval. “Really Namjoon, it’s time to go home. Seokjin and Bomi-unnie always wait up for us, you know that. You have to think of others too.”

“Fine, fine,” Namjoon sighs, shutting down the monitor and rubbing his eyes. Now that he looks away form the glowing screen, he realizes just how tired he is. And Seokjin probably fell asleep on the couch waiting again, Namjoon thinks with a flare of guilt.

He closes up his studio and walks across the hallway to knock softly on Yoongi’s studio door. He’s probably working with headphones on and can’t even hear him though. Might as well just enter. Hopefully Moon can give Yoongi a heads up so Namjoon doesn’t accidentally scare the living daylights out of—

Namjoon stares in confusion at the lump of maknae sleeping on the small couch in the corner. What is Jungkook doing here?

Namjoon takes another step into the room, eyes adjusting to the dim lighting. Haru is scrunched into a ball of bunny in Jungkook’s arms, and the maknae’s face is slack and peaceful in slumber. And…and Yoongi’s favorite jacket is draped over the boy’s stomach and thighs, a small cushion Yoongi always uses as a chair backrest under Jungkook’s head.

“Yoongi, you have a visitor,” Moon murmurs, tapping at his hand with the tip of her tail. Yoongi peels off his headphones, spinning around in his chair, and Namjoon almost winces when he sees the dark circles under his eyes. They look dark enough to be bruises.

“Hyung, why are Jungkook and—” Namjoon starts, but Yoongi shushes him, gesturing at the couch. “They’re sleeping,” he whispers.

“Sorry,” Namjoon mutters, lowering his volume. “Why are Jungkook and Haru here? I’ve never seen them in the studio outside of recording sessions.” He feels like he already has a faint idea why though, recollecting the maknae’s puppy-like trailing after Yoongi.

Yoongi swivels back around to face his computer, nonchalant. “He’s been coming on and off for months, how have you not noticed? Kid gets stressed sometimes, and I said he could drop in and keep me company if he wants.”

Namjoon squints at Jungkook tiredly again, his brain struggling to catch up. Is that why Jungkook sometimes wasn’t in their shared room at night? He had always wondered, but in an off-hand way, exhaustion dragging him into sleep and dismissing his concerns. Namjoon had just assumed after a while that he was staying late in the dance studios or practice rooms to fix up his choreography.

Yoongi starts clicking again, attention diverted, and Iseul clicks her tongue in disapproval. She flies down from Namjoon’s head, landing squarely on the keyboard with a clack. “It’s late,” she says quietly but firmly, and both Yoongi and Moon have enough experience with being kindly but insistently herded back to the dorm to know what that simple statement means.

“Aish, ok, ok,” Yoongi grouses, and Moon yawns and starts padding toward the couch as Iseul perches between Moon’s ears like a little general.

“Here, I’ll wash that for you,” Namjoon offers, picking up two dirtied mugs. “Come on, Iseul, let’s go.” Yoongi dips his head in thanks, and Namjoon makes his way down the hall to the tiny communal kitchen, rinsing the cups in the sink.

It only takes a couple minutes before he’s traveling back down the hallway, but just as he’s a few steps away from the half-opened door, he hears Jungkook’s sleep-groggy voice.

Something makes Namjoon stop and listen.

“Mm…hyung? What time is it?”

“Time to go home, Kook-ah. Iseul and Joonie found us, unfortunately. Haru might want to change into something smaller if he wants to sleep in your pocket or something on the way back.”

“But I want to sleep on the way back,” Jungkook replies, pout practically audible in his voice. “Can you carry me, hyung?”

“Absolutely not, Jeon Jungkook. You’ll crush me. And besides, Moon likes to ride on my shoulder when we walk.”

“Please? Please, hyung.” Jungkook’s voice is impossibly pleading, and Namjoon peers through the crack of the door to see both the maknae and his daemon staring at Yoongi with large eyes, Haru taking the shape of a baby beagle, ears drooping and all.

“Aish, that’s not fair,” Yoongi complains, but Namjoon can already hear his resolve crack. “Fine, but just this time, ok? Why do I even put up with brats like you.” Yoongi sounds so disgustingly fond and affectionate though that Namjoon almost wants to turn away and forget this ever happened. He feels like he’s intruding.

Yoongi appears in the doorway moments later, one sleepy maknae draped over his back, face in the crook of his neck. Haru has shifted into a Saint Bernard, offering Moon a comfortable position on his back as he trots happily beside Yoongi and Jungkook.

As soon as Namjoon comes into view, Yoongi’s expression shifts from indulgent warmth to threatening pain and eternal hell so fast Namjoon almost gets whiplash.

“Oh, hi, Namjoon-hyung, Iseul,” Jungkook mumbles, propping his chin on Yoongi’s shoulder. Haru’s tail wags in greeting. “Yoongi-hyung is really comfy.” He giggles, sleep-drunk, and Namjoon imagines Yoongi’s stone cold heart melting, melting, melting.

Except he’s still shooting lasers from his eyes.

When they get home, Jungkook is fast asleep, supported only by Yoongi’s grip on his thighs and his awkwardly hunched back to keep the younger boy from falling off.

Yoongi trails Namjoon back to his shared room with Jungkook, where he carefully removes the maknae’s shoes and outerwear, tucking him into bed. Jungkook clings to Yoongi’s warmth when he tries to pull away, and Namjoon doesn’t miss the flash of fondness in his hyung’s gaze.

“Gonna give him a goodnight kiss too?” Namjoon says teasingly, climbing into his own bunk.

There’s no reply, but Namjoon hears the paper-soft brush of lips on skin and sees the light flush on Yoongi’s cheeks as he climbs down the bunk ladder.

He closes his eyes quickly, pretending not to hear Yoongi’s embarrassed huff and threat of decapitation. Seconds later, the door shuts with a click, the lights in the hallway going out.

Namjoon turns over in the dark and smiles into Iseul’s feathers.

v.

Jungkook gets sick during one of their infrequent breaks, and Seokjin doesn’t question it when Yoongi elbows him out of the way to make soup for their maknae.

“He told me his mom makes him chicken broth when he’s sick,” Yoongi says, face turned resolutely away from Seokjin. Moon is up on her hind legs, pulling the refrigerator door open, and Bomi—settled as a sugar glider for a good four years now—peers out of Seokjin’s shirt pocket in curiosity.

“Yoongi, the milk,” Moon gripes, unable to reach.

“What?” Yoongi asks, distracted. He’s typing something on his phone, which keeps buzzing as he recites ingredients under his breath. Moon yowls loudly, and Yoongi finally looks up. “Moon, seriously? Now’s not the time to drink milk. I’m trying to focus on making soup.”

“For Haru, you idiot. Warm milk always makes him feel better.” Moon twitches her ears impatiently, and Yoongi relents, striding over to grab the milk. “Fine, only if it’s for Haru. You better not steal any though.”

Moon scoffs, and Seokjin watches in amazement, Bomi laughing squeakily in his pocket all the while. “Jinnie, Jinnie, you have to get this on film. They’re trying so hard, this is adorable. Who knew Moonie had a side other than grumpy?”

Seokjin ignores Bomi’s antics, trying to look over Yoongi’s shoulder. He’s more concerned about the possibility of the kitchen burning down. “What recipe are you using? And do you even know how to make it?” He tries to steal a glance at the phone, Yoongi keeps blocking his view of the screen with his shoulder.

“Hyung, stop it. I know what I’m doing, alright? This is not the first time I’ve cooked, and I’m not like Joonie who wrecks the kitchen and himself every time he tries to make anything.”

“That is true,” Seokjin concedes, but he’s still somewhat skeptical. “What recipe are you using though? You didn’t answer. If you need one, I can give you the one I use.”

Yoongi mumbles something unintelligible under his breath.

“What was that?” Seokjin cups his ear obnoxiously and leans forward.

“I said, I got the recipe from Jungkook’s mom!” Yoongi’s face flushes as soon as he blurts it out, and the phone buzzes again. Swiping it from Yoongi’s grasp, Seokjin ignores his undignified grabby hands and grumbling, scrolling through the messages. There’s a photo of a hand-written recipe on a page of a book, along with lots of instructions and tips texted directly into the chat.

10:17 am [from: Mrs. Jeon]

Thank you for taking care of our Jungkookie and Haru!

10:18 am [from: Mrs. Jeon]

Kook talks about you so much when he calls back…I trust he’s in good hands! Tell me how the soup turns out, and remind Jungkook to call if he forgets. Also, remember to add more ginger, and go light on the salt!

10:22 am [from: Mrs. Jeon]

Hi Yoongi-ssi, this is Junghyun, Jungkook’s older brother. You better treat him right.

Damn. Seokjin raises a brow at the last message, and Yoongi snatches the phone back, face red. He points at the door mulishly. “Leave. Now.”

“Aww, is that any way to speak to your hyung?” Seokjin grins blithely. “Also, how did you even get her number?”

“Leave now, hyung. And none of your business,” Yoongi grits out, and Seokjin dances away merrily.

“Call if you need help,” he hollers over his shoulder.

“I won’t!” Yoongi returns sourly, and Seokjin rolls his eyes. What a petty dongsaeng.

If only Yoongi treated everyone as well as Jungkook.

---

Seokjin checks back later, partially to make sure that the kitchen hasn’t burned down—and partially to make sure Jungkook is doing alright—but mostly to eavesdrop.

He’s not ashamed (okay, maybe just a little ashamed) that he’s army-crawling on the floor with a blanket over his head, Bomi scouting the way for him to watch discreetly. He feels like the creepy uncle in those movies, but hey, worth it.

Yoongi brings a bowl of soup into the living room, settling on the ground beside the couch where Jungkook and Haru are swaddled in blankets.

“Jungkook-ah, wake up. Hyung made you soup.” Yoongi shakes Jungkook’s shoulder gently, Moon nosing at Haru’s sweat dampened pelt. He’s switching between a black rabbit and a tabby housecat in intervals, two of the forms that he had taken a particular liking to in the past year. None of them have commented on it, but Seokjin thinks it’s obvious why Haru has a preference for these two animals, considering Yoongi’s off-hand comments about Jungkook’s cute bunny smile (which are blatantly adoring and way too obvious in Seokjin’s opinion) and Moon’s affection for her fellow feline daemons.

“Moon brought some milk for Haru too, if he can stay as a cat. I don’t know if it’ll make him even sicker as a bunny.” Yoongi blows on a spoonful of soup as Jungkook rubs at his eyes and props himself up to sit upright. Haru, apparently hearing, squeaks pitifully and shifts into his tabby cat shape, shivering and sneezing.

“Yoongi-hyung?” Jungkook asks, throat raspy and eyes bleary. “Hyung, I don’t feel good.”

“I know,” Yoongi says patiently. “That’s why you’re going to drink some soup and take some medicine. Then you can go back to sleep.” He lifts the spoonful of soup to Jungkook’s lips, and the younger boy opens obediently to accept it.

“Hyung…” There’s a strange note in Jungkook’s voice.

“What?” The edge of worry in Yoongi’s face is unmistakable. “Is it bad? I can ask Jin-hyung to make something else—”

“No, it’s good. Really,” Jungkook adds, seeing the sliver of doubt. “It’s nothing, hyung, don’t worry.”

“Alright, if you say so,” Yoongi says hesitantly, lifting another spoonful for Jungkook. On the ground, Moon nudges forward a small bowl of warmed milk, and Jungkook deposits Haru beside the older daemon, giving his ears a comforting rub. “Go on,” Jungkook whispers, “Moonie doesn’t share her milk with everyone.”

Yoongi doesn’t make soup for everyone either, Seokjin wants to scream.

They finish the rest of the bowl in comfortable silence, Yoongi carefully blowing on each spoonful, Jungkook pliant and uncomplaining as the older boy feeds him bites of chicken and broth. Moon lies, head resting on her paws, watching attentively as Haru slowly laps up the milk.  He curls into her side when he finishes, and Moon licks over his flanks and ears, gently grooming him.

Yoongi’s just about to ask Jungkook if he wants another bowl when the younger boy breaks in, that odd note back in his voice again.

“Hyung?”

“Hmm? What is it?”

“Is this…is this my mom’s recipe?” Jungkook’s eyes are wide and expectant, almost hopeful.

Yoongi rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, and Seokjin can see the tips of his ears flush red. Aigoo, how cute. “I…yeah, it is. You could recognize it, huh?”

Jungkook turns his head down, voice thick. “Yeah…I could recognize my mom’s recipe anywhere. I just—I really—” He breaks off suddenly, angling his face away, and Yoongi reaches out to the younger boy in concern.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Yoongi asks. “Are you—are you crying?”

The question seems to break something in Jungkook, and he bursts into tears, throwing himself into Yoongi’s arms.

“Oof.” Yoongi manages to catch the younger boy, rocking back a bit at the impact. Jungkook buries his face into Yoongi sweatshirt, hiccupping. “Whoa, hey, what is it? C’mon Kook-ah, talk to me.” Panic is the only thing clouding Yoongi’s brain right now. He can’t handle tears, oh God, he can’t, his heart is going to break.

“Was the soup really that bad?” Yoongi asks.

That prompts a wet laugh from the maknae.

“N-no, I—I just…I miss my mom. A-and my, my family,” Jungkook chokes out, and Yoongi’s face softens. He runs a hand over the boy’s back soothingly, hugging him close.

“‘M really glad you’re here, Yoongi-hyung. An-and thank you for the soup.” It means a lot, goes unsaid, but they all hear it anyway. Yoongi hums and lets Jungkook cry himself out, brushing a hand through his hair even after he’s fallen back asleep.

After a while, Yoongi stands up, Jungkook still clinging to him loosely, and deposits the lapful of maknae back onto the couch. He pulls the blankets up, and Moon gently picks up a dozing Haru by the scruff like a mother cat would a kitten, laying him beside Jungkook.

“Mmm…no, don’ go, hyung,” Jungkook protests and clings to Yoongi’s sleeve, eyes cracking half-open. Exhaustion hangs heavily about him, both from sickness and from crying.

Yoongi shushes him softly. “C’mon, let go. I’m just gonna clean up the kitchen, and I’ll be right back, okay? Go back to sleep.” Jungkook makes an unsatisfied noise but acquiesces, loosening his grip, and the older boy picks up the emptied bowls and spoon, padding back toward the kitchen.

And very quietly, from the opposite doorway, Seokjin and Bomi give each other a look and start crawling back to the bedrooms.

This will be a story for the grandchildren one day.

vi.

Of course, not everything goes smoothly. As public figures, they’re exposed to criticism every day, from the way they look and act to the forms their daemons choose to take or end up settling in.

The majority of their fans are supportive of both them and their daemons, going the extra step to reassure Jungkook and Haru especially. There are even fans that send letters or come up to speak to them at fanmeets, earnestly thanking them for how their media coverage—especially Jungkook’s—has begun to change the perception of same-sex daemons.

But hate crimes and slurs still happen, and as they gain popularity as a group, the threats become more and more vicious.

They’re at a fan signing event, just a couple days after their newest comeback, and Jungkook is smiling brilliantly at the cheers and atmosphere, riding off the happiness of the crowd.

“Next!” The manager behind him calls, waving the line along. Jungkook is seated at the edge of the leftmost table, first in order to receive the new fans, Yoongi right beside him.

A girl in a dress, her hair dyed a pretty copper color, slides up to the table. “Hi!” She chirps, smiling brightly.

“Hello!” Jungkook greets the girl, smiling cordially. She looks older than him, but not by much. “What’s your name?” He asks, reaching for the small notebook she pushes forward.

“I’m Jiae,” she replies, folding her hands on the table. The light glints off her silver rings, and Jungkook finds his gaze drawn to her fingers. There are…strange brown stains under her fingernails, but Jungkook looks away quickly, knowing how uncomfortable a prying stare can feel. He uncaps his pen, a shivery feeling running up his spine as he touches the notebook, but he pushes it away, trying to focus on signing.

Her daemon, a large falcon nearly double Haru’s size in rabbit form, hops forward onto the table and cocks his head at Haru.

“Jungkook,” Haru whispers, nose twitching uneasily. He flinches back a little as the falcon takes another step closer, feathers puffing up. “Jungkook, something smells weird.”

“Be nice, Haru,” Jungkook hisses back. It’s not like they haven’t had quirky or strange fans before, but upholding a friendly public image is crucial. Neither Haru nor himself can kick up a fuss without a valid reason, and even then, the media still loves going wild with accusations at hairpin trigger, salivating after tabloid headlines for quick profits.

Turning from the fan he’s talking to, Yoongi shoots him a concerned look, but Jungkook smiles back reassuringly. Nothing to worry about.

“No, Jungkook, seriously.” Haru backs up and bumps into Jungkook’s arm, shifting into the tabby cat—just a little bigger than the form he would normally take. His voice is louder this time, almost distressed, and Moon, curled on the table beside him, looks over. She flicks her tail against his. “Haru?”

“Haru, we can’t—” Jungkook tries again, but the apprehension is unescapable now. Daemons and humans are inexorably linked, and Jungkook can feel the fear pulsing through Haru, bouncing between them and amplifying.

“Oh my,” the girl—Jiae—coos, “Is Haru alright? I have something for him if he’s not feeling well.” Her rings glint again as her hand dips into her bag.

“O-oh,” Jungkook stutters. “No, it’s alright, really—”

The girl pulls a limp mass of fur out of her bag and shoves it straight at Haru. It takes a fraction of a second to register, and then Haru shrieks in terror and leaps away, crashing into Moon.

Jungkook gasps, horrified, shooting to his feet and stumbling back so fast his chair topples backward, and Yoongi inhales sharply. Haru leaps into the security of Jungkook’s arms, and he holds him tightly, heart pounding.  

It’s a dead rabbit, throat slit and body half-mangled, soaked in so much dry blood that its snowy white pelt is almost entirely brown.

“Oh my God,” Jungkook whispers. The brownish stains under her fingernails…

The girl laughs, just as brightly and cheerfully as she had smiled before, but Jungkook recognizes the edge of malice to it now. “You will never be accepted. And you think the fans haven’t noticed? The way you look at Yoongi-oppa is disgusting,” she says softly, low enough that no one other than Jungkook can hear her.

“Security!” Yoongi shouts. “Security, get her out!” Everyone is gaping at them, all heads turned in confusion. The carcass is blocked from the crowd by the girl’s body, only visible to the members, and all of their faces are pale with shock.

“He’ll never love you the way you love him,” she whispers, and there’s a flash of hard conviction in her eyes that shakes Jungkook to the core. “Never.”

The guards start moving in, but the girl is fast, darting off the stage and winding her way through the confused crowd, her daemon soaring over the masses. Some people are shouting directions, but no one moves to grab her, clamoring in bemusement as they try to get a glimpse of what happened at the table. The managers and security move immediately to block the view of the table, trying to do damage control.

The dead rabbit is still sprawled across the notebook, and Jungkook stares, feeling sick to his stomach.

“Kook, don’t look at it.” Yoongi stands as well, tucking the younger boy’s head into his shoulder. There’s a tremor of fury that runs through his movements. “Hey, we’re leaving, okay? They’re going to shut down the event and find her. What she did was repulsive.”

“But…but the rest of the fans,” Jungkook says weakly, trying to latch onto any semblance of normalcy he can. His head is still reeling from what the girl had said. A sluice of hurt washes through him, clouding his brain, cottoning his ears. Yoongi had always been a far-off dream, a doting brother figure that he had realized somewhere along the way was more than just that. Of course, he had never expected anything back, but was it truly so obvious? To be called out on it, to be attacked for it? Doubt floods his mind.

“The staff and managers will figure out a way to compensate them, or we can hold another one for them,” Namjoon replies firmly, and Hoseok nods from beside him, face serious. All of the members crowd defensively around Jungkook, acting like a protective circle. “No one expects you to go on like nothing happened, not after that.” Jimin and Taehyung also gather around Jungkook, their daemons pressing against Haru in comfort, and Seokjin hovers behind them, lips pulled tight.

Jungkook tries to protest again—fans, think of the fans, think of anyone, anything else but him—but Yoongi shushes him sternly. “You come first, Jungkook. Your safety and ours, not what the fans or public might think.”

“A-alright.” Jungkook feels a little numb and slightly nauseous, still stunned. Dizzy with the sudden realization that no one else had heard what she said but him.. The managers are shouting, herding them away from the screams of the crowd, and Jungkook clings to Yoongi’s hand blindly.

Swallowing down the bile, he closes his eyes, hoping no one else can see the wetness on his lashes. He tilts his head down.

They’re going home.

---

“Jungkook? I ran a bath for you.” Yoongi knocks lightly on the maknae’s door before pushing it open and stepping in.

Jungkook remains silent, hiding under the covers with Haru curled on his pillow. Still a cat. An awful feeling beats at Jungkook’s heart, the words looping over and over in his head. You will never be accepted. He can’t bear to replay the part about Yoongi though. Is he really so transparent? It sickens him. Jungkook sickens himself. He feels like he can still see the coppery brown, smell the sickening metallic odor.

You will never be accepted…the way you look at Yoongi…

“Jungkook?” The covers lift, and Yoongi’s dark eyes peer at him, worried. Jungkook shuts his eyes against the bright room lights and hides his face, careless of how his cheek smears against the pillowcase. “Aish, you haven’t even taken off your makeup yet. C’mon, bathtime,” he coaxes gently. Moon detaches from Yoongi shoulder, crawling over to Haru. She mews despondently when Haru ignores her nuzzle and scrunches up tighter.

Yoongi sighs and sits down on the bed. “Kookie, please?”

It’s nearing an hour since they’ve gotten back to the dorms, and Jungkook and Haru had practically fled to their room as soon as they arrived.

Yoongi had moved to follow them, but Namjoon had stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Give him a bit of space, hyung. He probably wants to be alone.”

Yoongi had eyed him incredulously. “Why the hell would he want to be alone after that? If anything, he needs someone now more than ever.” His tone is unintentionally snappish.

Namjoon drops his hand as if he’s been burnt, and Iseul chirrups, a bit hurt. “I don’t…” he blows out a frustrated breath, and suddenly, Yoongi sees the uncertainty in the set of his shoulders, the fatigue and frazzled nerves. “I don’t know what to do, hyung. I don’t know what he really needs either, I’m just…trying my best, alright? If that’s what you think he needs, I’m sure you know him better than me.”

Yoongi immediately feels bad. This must weigh heavily on Namjoon as a leader, for despite his inexperience, he’s still responsible for the group. He’s trying his best, like they all are.

“Yeah,” Yoongi mutters. “Sorry. I’ll—I’ll go run him a bath or something.”

Namjoon nods, taking a deep breath. “We’ll be alright. Jungkook will be alright.” Yoongi can’t tell who he’s reassuring. “I’ll go ask Seokjin to make Jungkook something to eat,” Namjoon adds, brushing past Yoongi into the kitchen.

And now Yoongi is here, sitting beside an unresponsive maknae hiding in his blankets.

“Hyung,” Jungkook says suddenly. His voice is scratchy, as if he’s been crying, and when he finally faces Yoongi, the older boy can see that his eyes are a little red. “Hyung,” he whispers again. “She said…she said we would never be accepted.” By whom, he doesn’t say, but they both know what he’s talking about: society, the public, the world.

“Would you guys…would you guys ever replace me? And Haru? With someone normal, I mean. I know I’m a liability…” he rambles, trailing off. And in that instant, Jungkook sounds so scared and alone.

There’s a beat of silence, and Jungkook’s face begins to close off in bitterness. His eyes shutter, and there’s just hurt, hurt, hurt pulsing—

Yoongi smacks him over the head. “You idiot.”

Jungkook’s face crumples, and he whips his head away, not wanting Yoongi or Moon to see the tears that have gathered in his eyes. “Alright, I get it—"

“No, you absolute moron,” Yoongi snarls, and there are suddenly hands on Jungkook’s cheeks, forcing him to look into the older boy’s eyes. He tries to jerk his face away, vision blurry with tears, but Yoongi won’t let him go.

“Aish, where did your common sense go?” Yoongi sighs, softer and more exasperated now. “Kook-ah, what I meant was that we’ll never replace you. Never. It’s not even an option, and you’re an idiot for thinking that we would even consider it. Bangtan isn’t Bangtan without you. Bangtan wouldn’t be the same if any of our members changed.”

Jungkook sniffs, wiping at his eyes. The hesitation is still there when he says, “Really?”

“Yes, really.” Yoongi taps his knuckles gently against the side of Jungkook’s head. “Whatever she said was just to mess with you, okay? There will always be anti-fans, haters, and bigots in this world, and none of what they believe changes the fact that you are valuable and loved. It doesn’t matter what they say, because we accept you, and you have to learn to accept yourself too.”

Jungkook stares at his hands, fingers curling and uncurling. He turns them over and observes the clean white of his nails, unmarred by blood, and shivers. “I…I don’t know how to accept myself sometimes.” The image of the blood and rabbit loops over and over, and Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut. “Hyung, I can’t get the—the bunny out of my head. And the blood…” he whispers. It was a statement against Haru, loud and clear, and what if, what if that had actually been Haru? It haunts him.

“Oh, Kook-ah.” Yoongi pulls the boy into a loose hug, and Jungkook finally lets himself take the reassurance he needs, hiding his face in Yoongi’s sweater. “Aish, Kook, you know I’m not the best at this. I have issues too, and sometimes there are just those days. I’m not the best at loving myself, nor am I the best one to give advice, but you have us, you know? I think a child’s mentality”—Jungkook huffs at being called a child, but Yoongi bulldozes on—“of how they view themselves is a reflection of how others have treated and viewed them from a young age. It takes time to change that, and sometimes it never really goes away completely. So if you can’t accept yourself, then we’ll just have to do it for you until you can learn to love yourself.”

“Got it?” Yoongi knocks his chin gently on Jungkook’s head, still buried in his sweater. “Hey, c’mon, Kookie. Look at hyung.” Pulling away, Yoongi tips Jungkook’s chin up, meeting his eyes squarely.

Jungkook stares back, something in his expression strained and sad. “Got it,” he murmurs, but it sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself.

Yoongi’s chest squeezes, prickling painfully. “We’ll get there, alright? It’s okay not to be okay.”

Jungkook nods, but his eyes are averted. “I’ll just…I’ll go take that bath now. Before the water goes cold.” He stands up, scooping up Haru. “Thanks for…thanks for taking care of me, hyung.” There’s a note of finality in his voice that Yoongi can’t understand.

And he vanishes out the door.

Yoongi sighs. He’ll try again later.

vii.

Haru doesn’t take the shape of a rabbit again.

They have talks about what happened, of course they do, but their concern seems unwarranted when Jungkook goes right back to acting normal—happy even—just a handful of days after the fansign. They have their suspicions and worries, especially Namjoon, who has seen the darker side of bottled rage and pain and overwhelming media attacks before.

But Jungkook honestly seems…just fine. And after a couple weeks, none of them tiptoe around Jungkook anymore, not after his frustrated outburst about how they all treat him like glass. He carries on like usual, and things stabilize back to routine, but Haru’s refusal to return to his previously favorite form is a constant reminder of what happened.

Months pass, and they mostly forget about the event, too caught up in promotions and practice and recording and go, go, go. Haru stays in his tabby cat form for the most part, and they get used to it, like they do to everything, but the question still lingers in the back of their minds from time to time, especially Yoongi’s.

For the most part, Jungkook acts normal. He smiles and laughs, works hard and talks to all of them, but some of his habits change, and he begins to pull away from Yoongi slowly. It hurts, just a little, when Yoongi looks back at the past months—nearly half a year even—and realizes that he and Jungkook are no longer as close as they used to be. Realizes that Jungkook now chooses bowling with his friends and playing video games with Taehyung over their sleepy late-night chats and lyric writing. Realizes that it used to be just—just Yoongi and Jungkook, YoongiandJungkook, and now, this. He no longer sleeps on Yoongi’s couch or asks for piggyback rides, and it’s like Jungkook is slipping through the cracks his fingers, like water through the gaps, still there but no longer his.

“Where’s Jungkook?” Namjoon asks one day, popping into Yoongi’s studio, Iseul perched in his rumpled hair. It’s late at night again, and Yoongi has a flash of déjà vu, a brief off-kilter moment when he looks toward the couch and feels like Jungkook should be there, but he’s not.

Yoongi rubs his eyes and shrugs. “I dunno. He’s stopped coming for…” It takes him a moment, and then he realizes he can’t quite recollect. How long has it been since Jungkook last visited? What is he doing now?

“For…” Namjoon echoes curiously. Yoongi wonders what kind of expression is on his face.

Yoongi shrugs again, a frown tugging at his lips. “For…a while. But anyway, I’m almost done with this track, okay? I’m just gonna stay for a bit longer. Tell Jin-hyung not to wait up.”

“Alright, I will,” Namjoon replies, and there’s a faint chiding voice Yoongi identifies as Iseul’s. But moments later, the door sweeps shut quietly, and the two of them leave without pushing for Yoongi to return to the dorms.

Yoongi sighs and spins his chair in a circle.

Moon cracks an eye open from her comfortable sprawl on the couch, eyeing Yoongi’s computer-illuminated visage.

“It’s a bit empty, isn’t it?” She murmurs, but Yoongi doesn’t reply, just jams his headphones over his ears again and keeps working.

And if she abandons her spot on the couch and curls up in his lap instead, Yoongi doesn’t say anything either.

Jungkook is growing up though, Yoongi rationalizes to himself. He’s finally branched out, meeting some friends from other groups, expanding from his shy shell. The anxiety that had driven him to shower at three am and to take refuge in Yoongi’s studio is fading over time. He’s lost much of the baby fat that once clung to his cheeks, preferring to skip meals and exercise constantly over everything else. He throws Taehyung around and bullies the hyungs and is generally the most athletic and fearless member in their group, and Yoongi is…proud. He’s proud of Jungkook’s new confidence and of who Jungkook has become as he’s grown into himself…but he’s sad too.

The realization is like pushing at an ache or prodding at a bruise; Jungkook’s growing up, changing, and Yoongi doesn’t want to let go. He’s proud, but he misses the kid that used to cling to him for cuddles and cry into his shoulder and look to him with stars in his eyes, asking wordlessly for approval and affection. He misses that.

viii.

Jungkook drops into his desk chair, hair still damp from a recent shower. It’s been a long day of practice. Endless, endless practice.

They’re gearing up for yet another comeback, and every day is sweat-stained and strained, a quiet sort of tired monotony that permeates through their bones. Practices are serious, Hoseok’s laughter dwindling as the weeks stretch on, replaced by sharp instructions. It’s wearing on everyone, especially on Yoongi, who shows up to early practices with dark undereye circles and stays in his studio into the late hours of the night.

He’ll never love you the way you love him.

Jungkook still replays that in his head, an unwanted but inescapable mantra that claws at him when he lies in bed, thoughts looping and vulnerable.

The shifting lights of his keyboard shine in the dimness of his room, reflecting off the paleness of his face, the painted colors of Haru’s tabby fur. He’s been working on a cover recently, but it feels just a little too difficult to bring it to the studio, to have someone else listen and instruct him as he records.

The open screen of the monitor blinks before him, and he presses play, soft chords filling the silence.  

Impulsively, Jungkook picks up his phone. Hesitates. Presses record.

And he lets himself sing, gentle syllables and heartache filling the spaces between notes. He closes his eyes and sees Yoongi’s warm eyes, his inscrutable looks and hidden little acts of care and kindness. A hint of thickness creeps into his throat as Jungkook thinks about all the ways he’s been trying to pull away from Yoongi, slowly and inconspicuously. Gradual enough to be natural.

He’ll never love you the way you love him.

And isn’t that what hurts the most? For someone else to be your entire world and life but for none of that to be returned. Jungkook had seen his love for what it was: a burden. A burden upon Yoongi, upon the team, upon their future. A burden not only because it could never happen but because he and Haru were at their core, unnatural.

The music reaches a crescendo, and Jungkook opens his eyes, voice wavering and vision blurry. He cuts off the recording, and wetness traces down his cheeks moments later. The darkness of the room envelopes him with melancholy, the rainbow-lit keyboard a hypnotic rhythm to his thoughts.

“Haru…” Jungkook whispers, and for a moment, he feels the warm mass on his lap morph into a familiar, smaller form. Two long, velvety ears tickle his damp chin, and Jungkook allows himself to gather Haru close for just a moment, breathing deep.

“It hurts,” Haru whispers back, and Jungkook almost laughs. Of course it does. They can both feel the bond stretching between them, saturated with sadness and a sort of desperate pain. Fitting, Jungkook thinks ironically, sniffing. Fitting that his soul manifestation is hurting.

“Change back,” Jungkook murmurs softly into the downy fur, and Haru understands.

That night, Jungkook goes to sleep with a warm, tabby tail wrapped around his wrist, and he tells himself, this is enough.

ix.

They’re only a couple days away from Jungkook’s eighteenth birthday when Yoongi decides. On what, he’s not exactly sure, but he has to do something. Time is trickling by so quickly.

“Jungkook-ah, your birthday’s next week, isn’t it?”

Yoongi looks up from Jungkook’s fumbling hands on the piano. Jungkook had been taking piano lessons with him for a while now, but they had been few and far in between considering Bangtan’s crammed schedule. The lessons themselves have been distant and cordial too, with Jungkook distracted and quiet, and Yoongi too tired to lecture Jungkook about practicing. Not like they had the time to be practicing side hobbies anyway.

Jungkook pauses, the melody trailing off unfinished. His fingers are clumsy on the keys, and it sounds a little hollow in the big practice room, only half-lit and empty save for the two of them. His brow wrinkles. “Oh yeah…it is, isn’t it?”

Yoongi flicks his forehead, chuckling when Jungkook whines and cups his head, affronted. “Yah, you nearly forgot your own birthday. Who’s the old man now?”

“Wait, I’m turning eighteen!” Jungkook gasps, as if he’d just remembered. “Haru…Haru’s gonna settle soon, right?” He strokes a hand through his daemon’s tabby coat apprehensively, and Haru yawns, nodding. “I feel like it’s coming soon.”

“Eighteen,” Yoongi muses, and Moon cracks an eye open from atop the piano. Eighteen. So fast. Too fast. Has it been three years already? “We’re too busy to go next week, so why don’t we go out for lamb skewers today? Hyung’s treat.” Yoongi’s heart beats just a little harder in his chest. He can’t remember the last time they went out for lamb skewers, just the two of them together.

Jungkook’s eyes light up, and he shoots up from the piano bench. “Really? Right now?” Laughing at the younger boy’s open enthusiasm, Yoongi checks his watch.

“Yeah, why not? It’ll be dinner time soon anyway.” He watches fondly as Jungkook practically races to get his hoodie over his head, struggling to fit his limbs through the right holes. It’s like he hasn’t grown up at all, but he has, Yoongi thinks, heart aching.

“Hey, hey, slow down. There’s no rush.”

“Lamb skewers wait for no one!” Jungkook declares, hair disheveled as his head pops out of the fabric. He gives Yoongi a bunny-toothed smile, and Yoongi can’t help but remember. Haru. Something in him feels just a little off-kilter, anticipatory, but Yoongi pushes it away. Not now. “C’mon, let’s go!”

Yoongi pretends to huff, but he lets Jungkook pull him along, warmth unfurling in his chest.

Aish, this kid.

___

When they get to the restaurant, Jungkook predictably starts shoveling his face with abandon, and Yoongi feels a bit sick just watching him.

“Slow down,” Yoongi repeats, and if he could have a shot for every time he said that, he’d probably be piss drunk by now.

“This is slow,” Jungkook mumbles around a mouthful of meat, and Yoongi wrinkles his nose in disgust.

They eat in companionable silence for a while, and everything is normal and wonderful and good until Yoongi stupidly opens his fat mouth and ruins it all.

“Jungkookie,” Yoongi says. He puts down his empty skewer, stomach tight. He can’t tell if it’s from the food or something else. “I just wanted to ask, how are you, really? I feel like I haven’t talked to you properly in a long time.” The words come out stumbled and uncertain, a reflection of how he feels.

Jungkook finally slows down, chewing contemplatively before swallowing. His eyes are deep enough for Yoongi to drown in, his face and jawline sharper than Yoongi remembers, and he wonders when Jungkook turned into an adult without him noticing.

“I—I’m okay. Everything’s good,” he says hesitantly, but there’s that tell-tale stutter and averted gaze that Yoongi recognizes. He’s lying.

A flare of hurt slices through Yoongi, but he keeps his face placid and picks up another lamb skewer. Has it really come to this? They’ve grown so far apart that Jungkook no longer trusts him enough to confide in him?

Yoongi doesn’t push and nods woodenly, but the easy atmosphere between them is broken now. Strained. The mouthful of meat in his mouth tastes charred and ashy.

“Good, good,” he replies mechanically, smiling. “Make sure you eat up, ok? I’m going to run to the bathroom for a bit.” He stands quickly, missing the flash of regret and wistfulness in Jungkook’s gaze.

Later, he faces himself in the bathroom mirror, lights ambient and a jazzy song crooning about love in the background.

“You’re a coward, Min Yoongi,” he whispers at his reflection. He wants to scream, to ask Jungkook point blank what happened, why he pulled away, but he’s scared. Scared of jeopardizing their friendship and the fragile web holding them together now.

His reflection stares back at him, and Yoongi wonders if it was something in him that drove Jungkook away.

x.

Haru doesn’t settle by Jungkook’s eighteenth birthday, but none of them think too much of it. Late settlers were nothing rare, and Iseul had settled a good year late too. The day before his birthday, Jungkook asks for a rare day off, which the company grants him without fuss. He goes out bowling with some of his same-aged friends, and Yoongi sits in his studio and listens to sad songs. Watches cat videos.

Pretty much sums up his life, he thinks gloomily.

Hoseok cracks his door open at around midnight.

“Where’s Jungkook?” He asks, just like Namjoon had, and Yoongi feels like life is just playing a joke on him at this point.

“Clearly not here,” he snaps, and Moon flicks her tail at him in reprimand.

Hoseok lifts a brow, letting Sunhi down from her wrap around his neck. She scurries over to Moon and tucks herself into Moon’s underbelly, chittering sadly when the older daemon doesn’t respond or even move to shoo her away.

“Trouble in paradise?” Hoseok asks, and Yoongi snorts, irritated.

“There is no paradise,” he retorts.

Hoseok lets him stew in silence for a couple minutes, and when he next speaks, his tone is softer and more serious.

“Hyung…you still like him, don’t you?”

Yoongi blows out a frustrated breath, horribly guilty but also unable to deny it. He doesn’t just like Jungkook—he’s horrifyingly, disgustingly, gut-wrenchingly in love with him. Yoongi thinks of the way his breath catches when Jungkook sweats through those damn white shirts he loves to wear, thinks of the way his heart pumps a little harder at those eye-crinkling smiles, thinks of how unbearable it is to hear him laugh because he’s just so in love. So in love it hurts.

“Couldn’t it be any more obvious?” Yoongi asks brokenly. “But what does it matter? He doesn’t see me that way, never will. All I am to him is a hyung.”

Hoseok’s mouth opens and closes incredulously. “Did you just say what I thought you—Yoongi! Are you stupid? Do you not see the way he looks at you?”

“You mean the way he doesn’t look at me?”

“He looks at you like you hung the moon and stars in the sky! Jungkookie’s not exactly subtle, you know.”

Hope wavers in Yoongi’s chest fragilely, but he pinches it out savagely. “How do you explain him pulling away then? He never comes around anymore, and he hardly talks to me unless he has to. How do you explain that then?”

For the first time, Hoseok falters.

Yoongi’s lips twist in a bitter mimicry of a smile. “Exactly.”

“Maybe...” Hoseok tries, “maybe he’s scared too. Have you ever considered that? He’s never been in a relationship, and from what we know, he’s probably received more criticism than anything else in his life. He’s not out either. Maybe—maybe he’s scared of his feelings and where he stands with you.”

“Maybe, maybe, maybe,” Yoongi mutters. Too many postulations, too much false hope. It’ll just make the inevitable disappointment harder to bear in the end. “Enough with the theorizing, Hoseok-ah. It doesn’t change anything.”

He turns back to his computer, a clear dismissal. Sunhi uncurls herself and slinks away, head down, and moments later, the door shuts quietly.

Yoongi empties his brain and goes back to his track. It sounds so empty.

---

Jungkook’s birthday itself is a cozy affair within the company—nothing big, just the way he likes it.

“I got you a notebook for lyric writing,” Yoongi says, handing Jungkook a wrapped parcel after dinner. Jungkook has been getting into songwriting more and more recently, taking an interest in collaborations, songcovers, and the production process of their own tracks.

Jungkook stares at Yoongi’s outstretched hand for a minute before he takes it gingerly. He unwraps it right there, sliding a finger beneath the tape and peeling it back carefully. Taped inside the front cover is a picture Namjoon had sent him a couple years ago, of Moon curled up with Haru at the foot of the couch where Jungkook was dozing. Yoongi is watching a cat video on his computer, caught red-handed not working.

“Do you…do you like it?” Yoongi asks, unable to bury the thread of anxiousness in his throat. “I noticed that you’ve been asking Joonie about songwriting and production lately, and I thought that maybe it would help to have your own place to put down ideas. It’s what I do, and Namjoon and Hoseok have their own journals too…” he keeps rambling, and Jungkook waits patiently until he finishes. Moon draped over his shoulder, flicks her tail up and down restlessly.

“I love it.” Jungkook runs a fingertip over the picture and hugs it to his chest. “Thanks, hyung. I really do like it. And I’ll definitely use it.”

“Ah, well, um, good,” he says, awkward. He doesn’t know what to say. Like why did you ask Namjoon about songwriting and not me? Yoongi mentally slaps himself. Jungkook can ask whoever he wants.

“Good,” he repeats dumbly, and Jungkook’s lips quirk.

“Let’s go back, hyung. I think they’re bringing out the cake soon.”

“Right,” Yoongi fumbles. He lets Jungkook lead the way back, steps widening like the growing chasm between them.

After Jungkook’s birthday passes, Yoongi sees the younger boy toting the lyric journal around with him everywhere. It’s open on his lap in between shooting breaks, thrown into his bag whenever they leave the dorm, held in his hands when he vanishes into Namjoon’s studio to do who knows what. It strikes a strange, off-balance feeling into Yoongi’s chest—is he just overthinking things? Perhaps Jungkook had never felt that he had pulled away, and it was simply Yoongi complicating things in the cacophony of his mind.

Nevertheless, he begins to see Jungkook less and less, if such a thing was even possible with how little he already sees him. Their maknae seems to be working harder now than ever, gearing up for the next comeback. He alternates between late nights with Hoseok in the dance studio and Namjoon in the recording studio, and he wakes up early in the morning to fit in gym time with Jimin and Seokjin. Jungkook’s eating less as well, and while the new definition of his waist definitely looks good, it also worries Yoongi to see him so thin.  

They’re at a dance practice, two weeks before their comeback and grueling through the fourth hour, when Moon points out that something seems strange with Haru and Jungkook.

Hoseok runs through the steps again in slow motion. “Pah, pah, pah! Just like that, leg out a little further, Jungkook.”

The boy obliges, but his face is pale with exhaustion, an inordinate amount of sweat wetting his bangs. Haru is situated in the pocket of his hoodie as a dormouse, front paws hanging limply on the edge of the fabric.

“One more time, okay? Then we’ll try at full tempo.” Hoseok rewinds the music, still at half speed, and waits for the members to get back in position.

Jungkook takes a moment, squeezing his eyes shut. His breathing comes fast and shallow, and Namjoon, ever observant, shoots Hoseok a worried look, jerking his chin at their youngest member.

“Jungkook,” Namjoon asks, “do you need a break?”

Jungkook’s eyes open, and he shakes his head in determination. Shoots them a thumbs up and musters up a smile. “I’m good!” He reassures them, brushing off their concerned glances.

Hoseok scrutinizes the younger boy for another second but accepts his answer. Being tired is nothing new to them, and Jungkook knows how to handle himself. He presses play and takes his position at the front again.

Less than a minute into the run-through, Jungkook stumbles and rights himself immediately.

“Yoongi,” Moon whispers. “Something’s wrong. With Kook and Haru, I mean. They don’t smell right.”

“What do you mean?” He pants, grimacing. God, all he can think about is the burning in his legs right now. He hates dancing.

“I dunno,” Moon growls, frustrated. “It’s just wrong.”

Yoongi opens his mouth, about to ask Hoseok to stop, but Jungkook suddenly crouches down, face twisting. Sweat is pouring off him in earnest now, and he’s gasping for breath, face paler than a sheet of paper.

The music cuts out immediately.

“Jungkook-ah!” Jimin exclaims, panic evident. “Are you ok? What’s wrong?”

“H-haru—” he grits out, and now that Yoongi is watching intently, he finally notices how Jungkook’s daemon seems to be fighting himself, curling and uncurling in pain. Taehyung’s daemon tries to lick Haru in comfort, but he flinches away from the contact.

Namjoon stares at the duo, mind whirling, and everyone else too looks to him for direction. Namjoon, out of all of them, has probably done the most research on soulbonds and daemons, not to mention his clear-headedness during emergencies.

“Jimin, go tell the managers to call the medical team,” he orders, and Jimin races from the room immediately, his daemon—a golden retriever—nipping at his heels.

Namjoon tries to steady a hand on Jungkook’s back, but the younger boy yells, jerking away. Haru still seems to be fighting something, writhing and squeaking in pain. Eighteen, Namjoon thinks cloudily, Jungkook and Haru just turned eighteen and that’s important for some reason…Namjoon’s eyes widen in realization.

Haru’s settling.

“Are you—are you fighting the settling? Jungkook! Listen to me, is Haru settling?” He asks urgently. Iseul hoots in distress.

Yoongi’s brow crinkles in confusion, uncomprehending. What does the settling have to do with anything?

Jungkook sobs, and Namjoon’s normally clear eyes are stormy with fear.

Yoongi shifts his weight uneasily, exchanging equally confused and panicked looks with the circle of boys crowding Jungkook and Haru. He feels utterly helpless, hands clenching and unclenching. Yoongi’s never seen the younger boy in so much agony.

“Shit, shit,” Namjoon curses, and he grabs the maknae’s face between his palms, unrelenting even when he tries to jolt away. “Jungkook, you have to listen to hyung. You cannot fight the settling. Whatever form Haru is settling in is the form he’s meant to be. If he fights it—if you fight it—the soulbond will tear. The damage will be irreversible. Jungkook, do not fight it.”

Jungkook’s eyes slip open, blinded by tears. His eyes connect with Yoongi’s stricken ones for a second, and then he hunches over, hands curling into fists. “I—I can’t…” he chokes out.

Yoongi finally steps forward, crouching down. “Please,” he pleads. “If that’s what it is, don’t fight it. It’s ok, no matter what form he decides to take.”

Wetness carves lines down Jungkook’s face, and he shakes his head rapidly, murmuring to himself. “No, no, I’m disgusting…Yoongi-hyung, I’m so sorry…”

A lump grows uncontrollably in Yoongi’s throat. What is he talking about? He reaches out a hand to touch Jungkook, but in that instant, Jimin bursts back into the room with a team of medical staff, just as Jungkook collapses.

And, and Haru.

Haru writhes with a screech and morphs—

—into a black rabbit.

xi.

The medical team sends them home after doing a couple brief tests.

“He’s fine,” one of the paramedics tells Namjoon. “Really lucky with the timing though. If they had resisted any longer, the soulbond might have been damaged. He might be a little tired after waking up, but it’s probably more from overworking himself than from the settling.”

Namjoon listens attentively, and the paramedic continues. “Make sure to keep a close eye on him, just in case anything changes. We still don’t fully understand this stuff, so you never know what can happen.”

“Got it.” Namjoon thanks the medical team, who had brought Jungkook to the company van before taking their leave. Everyone loads in somberly, quiet on the trip back.

When they get back to the dorms, Seokjin hauls Jungkook onto his back, and Jimin’s daemon gently hoists up Haru by the scruff, leading the way up the stairs.

Seokjin lays Jungkook’s prone body on Namjoon’s bottom bunk instead of his usual top bunk, and Haru is deposited in the crook of his arm. Jimin’s daemon gives him a subdued lick and a quiet whine.

“I’ll stay with him for now,” Yoongi volunteers, and there’s a brief interlude when everyone silently communicates with looks that Yoongi would rather not think too much about. Namjoon nods.

“Call if you need anything,” Seokjin adds as everyone files out. “I’ll be in the kitchen, and everyone else will be right outside.” The door clicks shut, and Yoongi sighs, drained.

He pulls up a chair next to the bed, and Moon springs from the ground into his lap and then onto the bed. She noses at the black lump of fur on the bedcovers.

“Haru…” she whispers, an unspoken question in that one word. Why? Had Jungkook and Haru hidden it this entire time? The incident at the fanmeet had passed a long time ago, and while no one had quite forgotten it, the memory had smoothed over like time weathered river stones over the years. That was when Haru had abandoned his bunny form, Yoongi recalls with a burst of clarity.

“How could he ever think he’s disgusting?” Yoongi asks the silence of the room. He traces over Jungkook’s features with his eyes, the bow of his parted lips, the touch of his eyelashes against his cheek.

He’s so beautiful it hurts.

Glancing at the door, Yoongi checks that it’s closed. Jungkook’s breathing is steady and deep. It can’t hurt right? Yoongi thinks with a tiny thrill of guilt. It can’t hurt anyone to love Jungkook if they can’t see, can’t know.

It can’t hurt anyone but himself.

He reaches out slowly, brushing a hair through the younger boy’s silky hair. Cups his soft swell of his cheek, ghosts his fingers ever-so-softly over the bridge of his nose, the curve of his cupid’s bow, the line of his brow. Brushes against the endearing imperfections—a mole under his lip, a scar on his cheek, a smattering of faded acne marks. His chest aches with the force of the emotion trying to tear through it.

His line of sight follows his fingers, tracing up, up, until—his brain short circuits.

Jungkook’s eyes are open.

“Hyung?” He asks, disoriented. A note of vulnerability threads through his voice.

Yoongi pulls back his hand like it’s been burnt.

Jungkook struggles to his elbows, propping himself halfway up, and Moon retreats into Yoongi’s lap, leaving a gaping divide between them.

“I…Jungkook, what was that? What happened back there?” The unsettled feeling of dread returns, heavy and uncomfortable in the pit of his stomach.

Jungkook’s expression shutters.

“Nothing,” he mutters abrasively.

“That was not nothing, Jungkook,” Yoongi growls, patience worn thin. He’s tired, suddenly. Tired of the endlessness of the comeback preparation, tired of Jungkook’s carefully maintained distance, tired of doubting himself, tired of missing Jungkook and the closeness they used to have. He’s tired to his bones.

“What happened?” Yoongi asks again, defeated, Moon limp and still on his thighs. “Was it—was it me? Did I do something? You never come to my studio anymore—” you hardly ever talk to me, “and now you’re fighting your soulbond and Haru’s settling. I wish,” Yoongi’s voice cracks, and he swallows roughly. “I wish you would just talk to me.”

When he looks up at Jungkook, there’s a glossy sheen in the younger boy’s eyes.

“Hyung, no.” His hands shake where they’re buried in Haru’s black pelt. “How could you possibly think that it was your fault? It was…” it was years of convincing myself that I was unnatural for loving you, years of telling myself and Haru that we weren’t normal. “It was me, okay? Nothing was your fault, so you don’t have to feel bad.”

Yoongi snaps. After everything that had happened, Jungkook still refuses to speak.

“What happened?” Yoongi cries. “Why won’t you trust me? Why won’t you trust anyone on this team? Bangtan is family, Jungkook! Let us in, please. All we want to do is help.” He heaves an enormous breath, throat closing up. “You don’t have to bear it all alone,” Yoongi whispers.

Jungkook’s voice breaks, his shoulders heaving with sobs. “Fine! I’m in love with you! Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Yoongi freezes, and Jungkook takes one look at his face and weeps, tear-stricken.

“Exactly! That’s why I never said anything,” he spits. “I bet you’re disgusted now, aren’t you?” Haru whimpers, Jungkook clutching him too hard. “Because I’m filthy, I’m unnatural, I’m—”

Yoongi slaps a hand over Jungkook’s mouth, clenched lips trembling at the self-directed vitriol in his voice.

“Stop, please.” He climbs onto the bed, gathering the younger boy into his arms, tender even as Jungkook struggles. “Jungkook, stop. Stop. I—don’t you understand? I’m in love with you too.”

Jungkook stills, and the raw desperation in Yoongi’s chest melts into something more hopeful. A wild laugh rips itself free from his throat.

Lifting his head from Yoongi’s chest, Jungkook settles on Yoongi with a guarded, uncertain look. “Are you…are you serious?” He seems almost too afraid to hope.

“I’ve loved you for a long time now, Jungkook. I never said it, but it hurt so much when you started pulling away.” Yoongi settles his chin on Jungkook’s warm shoulder. “How could you possibly think you’re disgusting or unnatural? We told you—I told you—from our very first day that you and Haru are accepted here. Where are these thoughts coming from?”

“I—” Jungkook sniffs. “That girl, remember? The one that, that, with the bunny. She saw through me so easily, and I was scared. I was scared the whole world would see how I felt, that you would see, and you would hate me. For loving you when Haru and I were like this.”

Yoongi pulls back and cups Jungkook’s cheek, chest aching fiercely with protectiveness. Jungkook shivers at the touch, eyelids falling closed.

“Oh, Kook, I don’t know what she said to you that day, but it’s bullshit. Even if I didn’t return your feelings”—Jungkook makes a breathy, wounded noise at that—“I would never hate you for feeling the way you do. It’s just like any other relationship or person in love, regardless of whatever gender your daemon is. I would never fault someone for feeling the way they do, even if it hurts.”

Jungkook nods and takes a deep breath, tension bleeding out of his shoulders. Suddenly, wonder and a shy joy takes over his face as he begins to process beyond the hurt.

“You…you really love me too?” He breathes, eyes shining.

Yoongi laughs, the realization finally settling in for him too. “Yes, I really do.” His fingers tighten on the younger boy’s chin, and Jungkook’s breath hitches.

“Kiss me, hyung?” Yoongi pulls in a sharp breath at that. Even tear-stained and disheveled, Jungkook is beautiful, staring up at him pleadingly. “Please, hyung, I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Wordlessly, Yoongi leans down, tilting Jungkook’s chin up to meet him. Jungkook’s eyes flutter closed, and Yoongi slots their lips together, warm and a little salty from their tears.

Jungkook pulls back first, pink cheeked and beatific.

“Let me in next time, okay?” Yoongi threads his fingers through Jungkook’s. “Promise me you won’t hide everything like this again.”

“I—” Jungkook hesitates, and Yoongi can now see Jungkook’s careful distance for what it was: hidden insecurity and fear. And now, he can see Jungkook struggling to open himself up, to gather enough courage to freefall into trust. Yoongi waits patiently, pride and pain warring as he watches emotions flash over the younger’s face.

“I will, Yoongi-hyung.” Jungkook promises. “I’ll do my best.”

Yoongi hums, finally satisfied with the quiet conviction in Jungkook’s voice. He stretches out beside Jungkook, filling up the cold spaces on the bed. Moon tucks Haru into her belly where they lie between the two larger bodies, and Jungkook feels complete. Complete to bursting.

Jungkook falls asleep like that, head buried in Yoongi’s chest, the lines of his face at peace. Yoongi cards a gentle hand through his hair, listening to the steady rise and fall of his breaths.

“It’s you, Jungkook,” he sighs, closing his eyes. “It’s always been you, and it always will be.”