#chapter two is a fair chunk of smut but also a fair chunk of feels | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

andypantsx3 · 4 years ago

Text

statistically significant | 2 | bakugou/reader

length: 23,490 words | 7 chapters

summary: You’re the scientist who developed a neural net to model the value of assists. Now that your work is feeding into the hero rankings, pro hero Ground Zero has a bone to pick with your results.

tags: romance, enemies to lovers, sexual tension, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, m/f threats of violence, problematic behavior

note: I cannot overemphasize that this interpretation of Bakugou is based on season 1 Bakugou, which means he behaves very questionably at the beginning. Please heed the warnings!

Present day

Miruko’s agency was large, much larger than you had expected.

From the street, it had looked unobtrusive enough, a moderately-sized office building with a modern-looking glass front. You could see into a large reception area on the ground floor, and open workspaces on the next few floors, conjoined desks piled high with paperwork and slightly wilted-looking office plants. If not for Miruko’s name emblazoned over the entry in bold, metallic letters, you could have taken it for just another office building.

Once inside, however, the building became much more than that. After checking in at reception, you were led deep into the building, and gestured into an elevator that took you tens of floors down. When the doors opened, they let out into a cavernous space, stretching under what must have been the entire block. The floor was equipped with a gym, several reinforced training spaces the size of office buildings themselves, and what appeared to be a surveillance room where footage from the training spaces could be replayed.

Your mouth dropped open. Did all hero agencies hide deep underground like this? How many other underground floors were there? How big was Miruko Agency, really?

Your guide had enough tact to ignore your inelegant expression, instead leading you towards a training room. A huge, clear window tens of meters across looked into the space, but you would bet anything that it was made of some material much stronger than glass, which was especially evidenced by what you could see going on beyond the window.

Rubble littered the room, scattered in towering piles that gave the appearance of a post-doomsday cityscape. You didn’t know if the room had been set up this way, or if the rubble was the result of the battle going on within; there were two heroes that you could see darting around the space, both appearing to be causing maximum chaos.

Closest to you, a woman with wild pink curls was emitting a powerful stream of some cement-colored substance that ate away at anything it touched, causing it to smoke and hiss and crumble. She melted a huge hole in a pile of rubble, and a man with a shock of golden-yellow hair leapt away from what had probably been his hiding place, backpedaling wildly.

You perked up when you realized who they were--Ashido Mina, the number twenty-nine hero Pinky, and Kaminari Denki, the number thirty-three hero Chargebolt.

Kaminari threw out a hand, and a crackling wave of lightning struck out at Ashido. The lights flickered out briefly, and even behind the window, you could feel your hair stand on end. You blinked past the powerful flash that had temporarily blinded you, casting about for Ashido who had surely been struck down, only to choke on a laugh when you caught sight of her flashing Kaminari the middle finger, sliding away from a huge chunk of rubble she’d dislodged with her acid to use as a shield.

“They’re idiots,” a voice intoned from your side.

You nearly jumped out of your skin, turning to find Miruko herself standing next to you, powerful arms crossed over her chest. Despite her words, a little fond-looking smile flickered at the edges of her mouth.

You schooled your slack jawed expression into a smile. “I don’t know--their personalities are mostly why they’re so popular, so they must be doing something right. I did a little digging into everyone’s results before I got here, and they stood out among a lot of the rest.”

Miruko’s gaze flicked over you. She was short, maybe even shorter than you, but her keen red eyes and very lethal-looking biceps more than made up for her stature. She was intimidating in person, an air about her that told you she could snap and turn on you at any second. Despite the fact that she had asked you here herself, you felt like she might seize you and bodily throw you out of her agency.

“And that’s why they’re idiots. Their results are buoyed by their personalities,” Miruko sniffed. “They need work.”

You prickled a little, feeling like you should say something in their defense, but the truth of it was, you were here to help them work on things.

Some weeks ago, Miruko had contacted the Public Safety Hero Commission with interest in the ranking model. Your version had been in production for close to a year, and you had recently been making scholarly noises about feedback loops, asking for permission to provide pro heroes with individual results breakdowns. Miruko had caught wind of this and demanded on site assessments for her “team of frigging clowns” as she had so eloquently put it. And so you had been loaned out, with the idea of helping to direct the training for the heroes at Miruko Agency, providing them a real time comparison of their training footage to the generic hero ranking model results.

If this trial run was successful, if you could help any of the heroes measurably jump ranks, then the Commission had committed to providing individualized results for the thousands of heroes employed today. The Commission had also expressed interest in your idea of creating and packaging smaller models that took less technical skill to operate, for heroes to use to direct their own training. They had even seemed receptive to giving you a small team of research scientists and software engineers to build such a product, so you would be looking at a pretty sick promotion, not to mention.

Miruko made her way over to the surveillance room, beckoning you after her, and you watched as she leaned over a desk, pressing down a button with one gloved finger.

A crackling sound echoed overhead and her voice followed. “Alright, brats, recess is over. Anyone not heading out on patrol, meet in the surveillance room now.”

The flickering light from Kaminari’s lightning fizzled out, and the door to the training room opened not long after, Kaminari and Ashido spilling out in a chaotic whirlwind of limbs and petty squabbling. They were the first to arrive at the surveillance room, and Kaminari visibility perked up when he saw you.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, interrupting himself on a gasp when Ashido’s elbow caught him in the ribs. “What the fuck, Mina--! Why are your elbows so sharp? Can you just not--?” He grabbed her elbow. “Stop, look, it’s stats girl! From the Awards!”

You startled a little, shocked that he had remembered you. That had been almost a year ago, and you’d only exchanged a couple quick comments in the stairwell.

Ashido looked up from where she appeared to be attempting to crack one of his ribs, her expression shifting into something altogether too interested. You flushed when a sharp grin broke out over her pretty features.

“Oh my god, you’re stats girl? I have been waiting forever. It’s an absolute honor to meet you.” She held out a palm, waggling her rosy fingers expectantly.

A rising sense of horror grew within you. Did...did Kaminari remember you so clearly because he’d told people about the incident? What exactly had he mentioned to her? Who else had he spread the tale to?

“Um, yeah that’s me,” you managed, trying to tamp down your embarrassment.

Ashido grinned wider, leaning forward. “I was totally convinced Denki and Eijirou made you up, except that Katsuki wouldn’t stop plotting revenge out loud for months. You’re, like, a legend. Do you do autographs?”

You gaped at her, your mind sticking on the phrase Katsuki wouldn’t stop plotting revenge out loud for months. A nervous, hunted energy crept over you. Revenge...for months.

Miruko’s rabbit ears twitched and she turned to you, frowning. “I wasn’t aware you’d already met some of my circus monkeys. Is this going to be a problem?”

You dithered nervously, not actually sure if it would be. You’d known Bakugou worked at her agency, considering you had done a fair amount of pre-work collecting everyone's results. But you’d honestly put off thinking about this. Bakugou had been in quite the rage at the Hero Awards, but that had been almost a year ago. And Ashido had phrased his revenge plans in the past tense… Surely he didn’t still hold as much of a grudge now?

Miruko eyed you suspiciously for a moment, but she was distracted when the scuffle of boots indicated the approach of other heroes, and a pair of burly men with curling satyr horns rounded the corner, one of them leaning forward to speak to her. Ashido sent you a wink when Miruko turned her back, mouthing something that looked suspiciously like later.

In the next few minutes, a small group of heroes assembled, ranging from relatively well-known heroes like Ashido and Kaminari, to a couple of heroes who ranked deep in the hundreds--you only knew some of their faces because Miruko had provided you with a list of her employees for preparatory research purposes. They formed a small crescent around the surveillance area, chattering lowly to themselves and eyeing you with speculative curiosity.

To your eternal relief, her most famously explosive employee was conspicuously absent, and you felt yourself relax when it seemed like everyone had turned up who was going to.

When it seemed like the crowd size was finally large enough to please her, Miruko barked a loud “SHUT UP” at them. The din of low voices instantly died down.

“Alright brats. Over the next few months, Y/N will be working here at the agency with us. She has been invited on behalf of the commission, and will be analyzing your quirks, your methods, and your recent work,” Miruko said. “She has individualized results pulled from the current hero rankings that can inform you how to improve. I expect you to take full advantage of this opportunity.”

She gestured to you, giving you a meaningful look as if she expected you to introduce yourself. You gave a little wave, glancing at the heroes around you.

“Um, hi,” you said. “As Miruko-san said, I can give you a little advice based on your current results breakdown. I also plan to analyze video of your training in the coming weeks, and build parallel models to simulate future results given your performance. We can compare those to the current rankings for an idea of how much work you will have to put into particular skills for you to move up in the ranks.”

A small murmur went through the crowd at the prospect of moving up in the ranks. Some gazes sharpened in interest.

You continued, “This is also a good chance to work on specific growth areas -- I can train smaller models on subsets of videos so you can compare your skills more directly with each other or with other heroes from other agencies. Please let me know if there is anything special any of you would like to focus on.”

Miruko stepped back in front of you. “Y/N is going to set up in the surveillance room for the next few weeks. I’ve already established checkpoints for all of you to meet with her, but I encourage you to meet with her more often if you can.”

There were a couple of nods, and a few interested whispers from somewhere at the back of the crowd. Miruko took a breath like she was going to say more, but then--

“Hard pass,” a voice growled from your left. Your hackles instantly raised, and it took your brain a couple seconds to catch up with your instincts. You whipped around wildly when you realized you knew that voice, and you almost jumped a full foot in the air when you caught sight of those familiar blonde spikes over another hero’s shoulder.

You hadn’t noticed his approach, but Bakugou had clearly returned from a fight only minutes ago. His hair drooped a little with sweat, there was dirt streaking the points of his high cheekbones, and his costume was shredded by a thousand tiny tears, like he’d been thrown through a glass window. And...was that blood on his gauntlets? Was it his?

You were torn between immediate annoyance and something like concern at the sight of him so obviously roughed up.

“The meetings are not optional,” Miruko’s voice took on a hard edge.

“I already know what this fucking nerd has to say,” Bakugou drawled dismissively. “And I don’t give a shit. I don’t need assists if I’m the one busy saving the fucking day.”

Your mood edged cleanly into annoyance. It seemed he hadn’t changed any, then.

Miruko’s face darkened. “It wasn’t a suggestion.”

Bakugou bared his teeth. They gleamed almost blindingly white against the dark dirt on his face. “No.”

A wild look entered Miruko’s eye at the challenge. “Everyone is dismissed. Except Katsuki,” she uttered in a low, dangerous tone.

There was a small pause. The heroes around you looked at her askance, and her features darkened even further. “I said scram. NOW!”

The effect was immediate. It felt like no sooner had you blinked than the hall was suddenly clear. The sight of Kaminari and Ashido wheeling around the corner was all the proof you had that the team hadn’t suddenly vanished from existence.

Bakugou snorted and propped himself lazily against a column, affecting a slouch, one pale eyebrow raised over his insouciant expression. It looked almost too perfectly arrogant, and you wondered if he practiced it in the mirror sometimes.

“I said the meetings are not optional, Katsuki,” Miruko hissed, taking a step closer to him. “You can ignore her suggestions all you want, but you will attend them.”

Close as they were, you could see she was almost a full head shorter than him, but the force of her anger seemed to make her larger somehow--she wasn’t towering over him, but she was certainly terrifying. Towering under, your mind supplied unhelpfully.

Bakugou, for his part, held his ground. His mouth curled disdainfully. “What’s the fucking point? The nerd’s just gonna tell me stupid shit. And I’m not going to listen.”

Your fingers twitched in irritation. Data wasn’t stupid shit -- it was mathmatical fact, almost as divorced from human bias as it was possible to be. How was it humanly possible that he hadn’t learned anything or grown even the littlest bit? How was it possible that he was just as infuriating as he was a year ago?

But fine. He could have things his way if that’s what he wanted.

Miruko’s face twisted in a scowl, and she took a deep breath like she was ready to start yelling. But you got there first.

“He has a point,” you said, giving him a hard look over the top of Miruko’s head. “I would hate to waste my time on someone who’s been stalled in the rankings for a year now. He wouldn’t know how to implement my advice even if I were to give it.”

You paused, letting an uncharacteristic smirk curl your mouth, trying your best to channel his disdainful energy. “Isn’t that right, Number Eight?”

Bakugou’s gaze sharpened over Miruko’s silver hair, twin pinpricks of red narrowing in on you. He abandoned his slouch, his body tensing like a hound that smelled blood. “What did you just say?”

You pushed down the petty satisfaction that rose within you at his reaction. He was so fucking prideful, so easy to bait.

“Hmm, cognitive delays,” you said, pretending to tap your chin thoughtfully. “Very worrying. Further evidence he wouldn’t be able to process the information, though. No, I think it’s best if we don’t meet.”

Bakugou pushed himself off the column, edging around Miruko as his mouth drew into a snarl. You were immediately reminded of the Hero Awards, that same overwhelming prickle of power edging over you as he stalked closer, the same scent like caramel and gunpowder.

Miruko’s eyes flicked between the two of you curiously, an eyebrow raised in interest. You hoped it meant she was interested enough in your data analysis to intervene if Bakugou tried to sauté you like an onion.

“If you melt through this blazer I really will sabotage the hero rankings and dip you all the way to number five hundred,” you threatened, edging away from Bakugou as he drew closer. “And also you owe me money for that dress.”

“I’m not gonna fucking give you shit,” he announced, looming over you when he’d decided he was close enough to intimidate. He was near enough that you could feel the heat of him, but he hadn’t put his hands to you yet. It seemed Miruko was enough of a deterrent to curb his bad behavior. “And I’m not gonna meet with you.”

“Good, then we agree,” you said, tipping your head back to look him in the eye. “You’re not good enough to do better anyways.”

Bakugou growled, the phrase clearly still enough to tick him off a year later. “Fuck you, I’m the best.”

“That’s not what your ranking tells me,” you clicked your tongue, feigning disinterest. With the dirt and scratches all over him he looked wilder than ever and you would be a fool to ignore it, but Miruko’s presence made you bold. And something else, some latent streak of frustration and pettiness told you to keep going, to keep pressing the buttons that were getting this reaction from him.

“Your ranking tells me you haven’t even improved the tiniest bit in an entire year. At this rate, you’ll never even hit the top three, never mind be the best. I don’t think you could improve even if you wanted to,” you said.

Bakugou looked like he wanted nothing more than to tear your head off with his teeth. “I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

You opened your mouth to reply but there was a sudden motion at the edge of your vision, something pink and blurry and wild. You glanced past Bakugou’s shoulder to find Ashido leaning around the wall, waving a hand frantically and mouthing something at you. You squinted, watching her lips shape themselves carefully: make a bet.

What? Make a bet?

She wanted you to make a bet?

You looked back up at Bakugou, taking in the oppositional expression, the angry curl of his mouth, the straight slope of his nose, and those keen, blood red eyes glaring down at you. This was certainly the face of a man who wouldn’t be told what to do, who couldn’t be told what to do.

But despite your words and your inherent distaste, there was no denying he was actually your best shot, the cleanest pathway to your promotion. Bakugou was smart, driven, and absolutely lethal. If anyone could turn around a rank at top speed it was him.

But he couldn’t be made to do it. He had to want to do it.

Ashido waved in the corner of your vision again, enunciating with exaggerated facial expressions. Make a bet.

Things clicked into place.

“Hmm, I wouldn’t be so sure,” you looked away from Ashido, inspecting your nails casually, like your focus would rather be anywhere than on this conversation. “In fact, I would bet almost anything that you wouldn’t know how to implement my suggestions, even if you tried.”

Bakugou froze, red eyes passing over you curiously. For one heart stopping moment, you thought he was on to you, but he just leaned down instead, putting his face close to yours.

“I’ll fucking take that bet.”

You tried to push down your sudden swell of excitement, fighting to keep your expression neutral. You knew he wouldn’t cooperate if he thought you were happy about this.

“Fine. You have two months to jump a rank,” you said. “Or I win. And you’ll pay me what you owe me for the dress.”

Bakugou smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. This had the effect of emphasizing both the tears in his shirt and the swell of his biceps.You quickly attached your eyes firmly to his face--that was so not what you needed to be focused on right now.

“I’ll do it in one,” he said. “And then I win, you smug fucking nerd.”

You gazed at him steadily. “Agreed. Miruko’s number seven--you think you can beat your own boss with just a month of work? You’ll never.”

“You haven’t heard what I win yet,” he said.

You stared at him, eyebrows drawing together in confusion. “You go up in rank. That’s what you win.”

Bakugou’s handsome face shifted into an uneven smirk. “Oh no. This is twice now you’ve opened your little know-it-all mouth and acted like you know what the fuck you’re talking about. When I win, you’ll tell me I’m the best and I was right all along.”

You suppressed an eye roll. If he moved up a rank, the point would very obviously be that you were right all along. Was he really so unreasonably competitive and spiteful that he needed to be told he was right?

Then you remembered he’d quite literally dragged you into a stairwell and implied he'd fry you to a crisp when he found out he was number eight. Of course he was.

Well, a few throwaway words were worth nothing compared to the promotion you’d be getting. He could have his sense of self satisfaction when you were knee deep in software engineers and fat stacks of money.

You took a deep breath, holding out a hand. “Okay. If you win, which is a very big if, then I’ll admit it. Deal?”

Bakugou considered you for a long moment, red eyes watching you closely, before a calloused hand engulfed yours. “Deal," he growled, a crooked grin flickering at the edge of his mouth. "Get ready to eat shit, nerd.”

You suppressed another eye roll, hoping to god this was going to be worth it.

This was going to be the longest month of your life.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia #bnha #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #tw threats #tw gendered violence

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wingsofkpop · 4 years ago

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Hiraeth - I.VI: The Forgotten One

pairing(s): Hybrid!Im Jaebeom x Reader, Witch!Mark Tuan x Reader, Werewolf!Jackson Wang x Reader, Vampire!Park Jinyoung x Reader, Supernatural!Got7 x Reader

genre: Supernatural!AU, Dark Magic!AU, HEAVY Angst, some Fluff, eventual Smut

warnings: Mature language, mentions of death and murder, brief violence, blood and gore, character death by suicide, mentions of depression and mental illness, hallucinations and trauma, brief mentions of child abuse and slavery, etc.

Trigger Warning: This chapter does contain graphic and explicit depictions of suicide. Please do not read if this will harm you. This is your final warning.

word count: 7,6k

synopsis: How far are you willing to go to find out the truth about Moon Dye Bay?…

chapter directory

A/N: This is a dark and heavy chapter.Please make sure to look carefully and closely at the warnings. Your safety and wellbeing should be your first priority. Do not read if you know it will cause you harm. Be safe and enjoy.

“I can’t believe he just left like that, that asshole!” Jinyoung holds back a chuckle at your bitter retort, unable to focus on anything aside from the furious expression along your features. He knows he shouldn’t find your anger cute, but there’s something about the way your nose scrunches inward and how your lips purse that has him melting. More so than the fever.

“I mean, what kind of self-absorbed, arrogant, heartless prick leaves his best friend to suffer…?”

“Jaebeom has never been the most compassionate person on the planet.” Jinyoung hums in response, tilting his head as to better give you access to towel away the sweat gathering across his forehead. “Even when we were children, it was hard for him to see through someone else’s eyes. But that is likely the cause of his upbringings.”

You shake your head indignantly. “We’ve all had sucky childhoods. That doesn’t excuse this petty, cruel bullshit.”

For a short moment, Jinyoung studies the forefronts of your face. This is the first time you have ever brought up mention of your childhood, and he couldn’t help but notice the rather sour tone of your voice. And while he can easily pass that off as anger toward his hybrid brother, Jinyoung wonders whether there’s more beneath the surface…

Who really are you…?

“Did Jaebeom tell you anything about his past during your time together?”

You shrug. “Yeah, I guess? He told me about your family, and your father—”

“What about his family?” Jinyoung notices how your body pauses, the cold cloth on his forehead freezing in place. He gives you a second to fix your composure, before leaning back into the comfort of his mattress and continuing, “Jaebeom’s parents were both killed by pillagers when he was very young, leaving him orphaned and one of the only remaining survivors in his village.

“He was taken into slavery, and traded off from one person to the next.” He explains, taking a second to cough and clear the thick bile building in his throat. “For the majority of his childhood, Jaebeom was beaten, abused, starved, maltreated and left to die more times than anyone could count. If I hadn’t found him, incapacitated and nearly dead in the forest, he would never have survived past fourteen.”

Guilt washes along your face, transmitting into your body language through the shakiness of your hands and tension in your shoulders. Jinyoung keeps his eyes trained as you dab his cheek, ignoring how the cloth does little to relieve yet another increase in his body temperature.

You murmur with a deep frown, “I… didn’t know.”

“Few do. Jaebeom doesn’t like to look back on his past.”

“But that still doesn’t make sense to me.” The hand with the cloth falls to your lap as you take the time to think. Jinyoung waits patiently, resting comfortably against his pillows. “If you two are so close… why let you go on sick rather than heal you?”

“Jaebeom and I have spent many lifetimes together, (Y/N).” He says, “Like most companions, we’ve had our fair share of falling-outs and feuds… This time was no different.”

“So he’s essentially punishing you? For not listening to him?”

Jinyoung sighs. “I know it’s difficult to believe, but Jaebeom does have a good heart.”

You scoff. “Yeah. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“He spared you, didn’t he?”

“He told you…?” Your eyes widen in surprise, and Jinyoung can’t help but smile at how much you resemble a gentle doe.

“Not exactly…” With some needed effort, he moves his arm to your lap where your free hand rests on your thigh. He mindlessly runs the tip of his finger over the bump of your knuckles, marveling at how cool your skin feels against his own. “My brother and I got into an argument the day before you came to the cemetery, so I had a suspicion he would try and retaliate against me… When I saw you were here, with him, I knew my suspicions were somewhat correct.”

Jinyoung raises his gaze to meet your eyes. “Time is not a friend when it involves creatures like me and Jaebeom, (Y/N). We may live forever, but we also suffer and endure the same pain forever.”

“There’s really no way for you to die?”

“No. If there was, then I would have ended my life a long, long time ago.”

Jinyoung notices how your eyes seem to sadden at his answer. But he doesn’t inquire any further, enduring another coughing fit that rattles his bones from the inside out. A small barrage of blood leaves his lips to splatter across the white sheets, which you’re quick to wipe away before offering if you can do anything else.

He shakes his head. “The symptoms will pass eventually, but you need to leave. I will start to hallucinate soon and I don’t want to put you in danger.”

“I’m not just gonna leave you here by yourself.” You argue, adamantly shaking your own head back and forth. “You’re stuck with me until your ass gets better.”

For the first time, Jinyoung actually curses your stubborn nature. He releases a groan, partly out of pain and partly out of frustration, before forcing himself to sit up against all your warning protests. Once he’s in a less than comfortable position, Jinyoung reaches for your shoulder and pulls you even closer toward his bedside.

“Mark is missing, and Youngjae needs a friend right now.” Your steadfast expression falters at Jinyoung’s words.

You sigh heavily. “I just… don’t want you to be alone.”

Jinyoung’s heart seizes at your confession, but he forces his expression to remain neutral. For your favor, and for his.

“I’ve endured this fever dozens of times on my own. This time will be no different.” He reaches up to brush a fallen eyelash from your cheek, relishing the starry night that shimmers in your eyes. “Go, please. Unlike me, your friends are not immortal.”

You remain troubled for a moment, weighing the options over while nervously gnawing at your bottom lip. Before he can think about his actions, Jinyoung hooks his thumb over your lip and frees the flesh from the wrath of your teeth. Surprise flashes in your eyes, but it is quickly replaced with defeat.

You surrender with a nod, “Fine. But I’m only going because I’m worried about Mark… not because you told me to.”

“Of course.” Jinyoung smiles as you retract from his touch, captivated by the way you flail about the room, preparing him a sick care package and gathering your own belongings. After you’re satisfied, you return to his bedside, and to Jinyoung’s surprise, lean down to splay your lips across his burning cheek. When you pull back, you refuse to meet his gaze.

“That’s for saving my life… And everything else.”

Long after you’ve exited the room, Jinyoung can still feel the lingering ghost of your lips against his skin.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Raindrops cascade gracefully from the silver storm clouds above, creating a soft curtain of mist everywhere you look. The chill of the rain shower actually motivates your pace to pick up. That, and the apprehension of leaving Jinyoung alone in such a weak, vulnerable state. Though your inclination to find Mark keeps you from turning on your heel and hailing a cab all the way back to the Project Estate… yet another good chunk of money out of your wallet.

At this point, you might as well as invest in a car.

The sigh that falls from your lips disappears into the falling rain as you slip past the entrance gate of Eclipse Cemetery. Before you found out about Mark’s witch nature, you never understood why he and his friends ever chose to hang out in a graveyard—a place where you can’t walk without stepping over the resting place of a corpse. You always figured Mark was edgy like that… and just strange, in general.

Your boots sink into the earth with each step, thick mud staining the leather soles. You can’t bring yourself to really care though, too focused on reaching the mausoleum before the storm soaks you to the bone. However, just when the familiar building is mere feet away, a rather small gathering of people come into view. You recognize Youngjae’s dark head amongst the crowd and beeline straight for the group.

Youngjae notices your approaching figure and turns to greet you. Even through the fog, you can tell the younger male has been crying from his swollen cheeks and crimson-tinted eyes. As soon as you’re in reach, you wrap your arms around his waist and pull him into a tight hug.

He reciprocates with a murmur. “I didn’t think you’d come… not after what happened—”

“None of that matters right now.” You assure, running a hand through Youngjae’s rain-soaked locks. “We’re gonna find him, okay? He’ll be home before you know it.”

“I hope so.”

After another moment or so, Youngjae pulls back from your hold. His hand remains on your bicep as he invites you into the sea of faces, where the surrounding strangers had watched your display with the young siphoner. You clear your throat, willing away the slight embarrassment brewing inside your gut.

“(Y/N)-noona, these are members of Moon Dye Bay’s resident werewolf pack.” Youngjae points to a shorter, but rather broad and muscular male with bleached, blonde hair, “This is Bang Chan, the Alpha and leader of the wolves.”

Chan’s smile is kind. “Hi. I wish we could have met during better circumstances.”

“Same here.” You reply, offering a small smile of your own.

“Kim Yugyeom is Chan’s second-in-command. You might have heard his name from—”

“Bambam.” You finish Youngjae’s sentence with a nod, noting Yugyeom’s extremely tall stature. And to think you thought that Bambam had long-ass legs… “It’s nice to finally know the face of the best friend he mentions all the time.”

Unlike Chan, Yugyeom doesn’t smile. But you can tell it’s not out of impoliteness or prejudice. The dark bags underneath his eyes and the tense lines of his cheeks disclose the severity of his exhaustion.

“The feeling is mutual.” Yugyeom hums, “Bam talks about you a lot too.”

“All good things, I hope.”

“More or less.” You make a note to smack the cashier the next time you see him as Yugyeom gestures to a young woman at his side with navy blue hair and a pretty smile, “This is my sister, Dahyun.”

“It’s so good to finally meet you.” Dahyun steps forward to take your hands between her own, “A couple of my friends are in Professor Park’s literature and history classes. They rant and rave about the aide that might as well be their professor.”

You chuckle shyly, “I’m getting there. Working on my doctorate right now.”

“Good for you.” Dahyun squeezes your hands before letting go and returning next to her brother. Through the corner of your eye, you notice another figure lingering beside a grand oak tree—obviously steering clear of the circle. His expression is cold, almost as if he had never smiled in his entire life.

“Don’t mind Changbin.” Chan blocks your view of the lone male with a sigh, “He’s in a mood, and has never been the greatest at greeting new people.”

You wave off his concern, instead focusing your gaze on an oddly silent Youngjae. Your heart practically breaks at the pure sadness and helplessness that contorts his features, but before you can open your mouth to console the siphoner, Yugyeom beats you to it:

“Is there any way we can find Mark without ripping apart the entire goddamn town? Some spell or enchantment or…?”

Youngjae shakes his head. “I already tried a tracking spell. He’s cloaked, meaning we won’t be able to detect him with magic.”

“What about the witch?” Dahyun says, “I mean—she had to have taken him while we were dealing with the huntress, right? There’s no other explanation why he would just up and disappear—”

“Wait—” You stare incredulously at the conversing wolves and witch, “Mina took Mark? Why would she do that?”

Yugyeom shrugs. “We killed her partner. Seems like a pretty decent way to get revenge.”

“She won’t… hurt him? Will she?”

Silence is your only answer, and it unleashes an electric wave of panic through your veins. You swallow down the gathering bile in the back of your throat before getting a grip on your sanity and turning back to the group:

“My friend is close with her.” You gulp, already pulling your phone from your pocket. “I’ll call and see if she knows any place she might have gone.”

“Good idea.” Chan nods and turns to the other wolves, “While (Y/N) does that, we should start forming search parties to check the town. Dahyun, you call Chaeyoung and Ryujin and have them start at the square—”

“Why do we even fucking bother?” Everyone startles at the sudden, gruff question. It takes you a second to realize the voice belonged to the lone wolf, Changbin, who is now rounding in on the small circle with a violent sneer. You can’t help but shiver beneath the intensity of his expression.

Dahyun rolls her eyes. “Who invited this asshole to come, again?”

“Dubu, please.” Yugyeom sends his sister a pointed look before meeting Changbin’s gaze. You marvel at how calm the tall wolf seems, as if he’s dealt with this type of thing a good number of times beforehand.

His tone resembles that of a parent speaking a serious subject to their child. “We’ve already talked about this… Mark—”

“—is the fucking reason why Jackon is dead?” Changbin chuckles darkly, the soaking wet hood over his head intensifying his intimidating aura. “No matter how many times I try to tell you that, hyung—you just don’t seem to get it…”

“Mark didn’t kill Jackson!” Dahyun argues, shoving past Yugyeom to approach the furious wolf. Although she’s significantly shorter than him, Dahyun doesn’t hesitate to lean in close to Changbin’s face until they’re nose-to-nose and send him a harsh glare of her own. “When will you get that through that moronic brain of yours!?”

“And when will you realize that whatever this puppy crush, love sick shit you have on him is never gonna happen—”

“Enough!” Chan’s bellow ricochets through your bones. The Alpha shoves the two wolves away from one another before stepping in between their bodies, making sure there is no possible way for them to reach one another without going through him. He glances between the pair with a stern glare, “You two need to calm down. Changbin, take a hike.”

“But, hyung—!”

“That’s an order. Go.”

You barely manage to duck out of his path before Changbin barrels past, likely heading toward the gates of the cemetery. His silhouette eventually becomes one with the raindrops, almost as if he was never here to begin with…

“(Y/N)-noona…?” Reality hits at Youngjae’s soft call of your name. You turn back to the other figures, finding each set of eyes looking in your direction. With your attention, Youngjae continues, “You want to make that call…?”

“Oh. Yeah.” You nod, remembering the phone between your fingers. “I’ll let you know if Sana tells me anything.”

Without waiting for a hum of agreement, you turn on your heel and make your way deeper into the cemetery. You don’t know why you have this sudden need to get as far away from the group as possible, but something in your gut doesn’t sit well with what Changbin had said.

Who is Jackson…?

The name isn’t familiar, nor do you recall Mark ever mentioning a ‘Jackson’. But judging by the tone of both Changbin and Dahyun’s voices, this Jackson is, or was important to them—important to Mark. So why have you never heard about him…? From anyone…?

And why did Changbin say Mark is the reason why Jackson died…?

You don’t realize how far you have traveled until you reach the tall iron fence highlighting where the burial grounds cease. Youngjae and the werewolf pack are long behind you, and you can’t tell whether the relief that spills through your body is a good thing or a bad thing. After wiping the droplets from the screen of your phone, you prepare to do as tasked and phone Sana for whereabouts on Mina. But just as you are about to hit the call button, something else catches your attention.

A jet black, one-winged butterfly glides through the falling rain like a tiny plane. It flutters only mere inches from your nose, playfully beckoning you with its single, rigged appendage before traversing past the graveyard fence toward the ominous forest. You watch, transfixed, as it pauses just in the mouth of the wood… as if waiting for you to follow.

Against your better judgement, you tuck your phone into your pocket and walk closer to the barrier. You somehow manage to scale the slippery fence without fault before sprinting after the deformed butterfly, which flew into the trees as soon as your feet hit the ground outside the cemetery.

The rain is lighter underneath the cover of thick leaves and branches, but it is also much, much darker. It is especially difficult to spot the black insect amongst the gloom, but as if under a spell, you manage to do so. You’re not exactly sure how long you trailed the butterfly, nor do you have any idea where you are, but you can’t seem to care—not when a large, obscure cave comes into sight.

You pause, watching the butterfly drift toward the mysterious cavern, telling you this is where you’re supposed to be.

Way past the point of no return, you enter the pitch black of the cave. Your own steps and the pitter-patter of the rain echo in your ears as you tread deeper into the obscurity, shuffling your feet as to avoid tripping over any awaiting obstacle. You eventually decide to pull out your phone, cursing yourself for not doing so in the first place, and switch on the flashlight setting.

A loud yelp sounds from your throat when your beam of light reveals something that strikes both fear and relief in your heart. Not something… but someone.

Mark lays in a heap on the dry cavern floor. If it were anywhere else, he would seem as if he were sleeping soundly… but he’s in a dark cave. Unconscious and alone.

“Mark!…” You rush to kneel at his side, checking over his body for any possible injuries. You find none, so you attempt to shake him awake, “Mark! Get up!”

Mark doesn’t even stir at your touch.

“Freaking hell, Mark…” You shake your head with a heavy sigh, preparing to grab your phone and call Youngjae, but when you turn to the spot where you left it on the ground, the device is nowhere to be seen. Chills race through your bloodstream like a wave of ice.

“What… the fuck?…”

“I believe you’re looking for this…?” You immediately whirl around at the sudden voice, protectively standing in front of Mark’s incapacitated figure. More panic and dread fill your gut at the sight of a silhouette standing in the mouth of the cave, with what seems to be your phone within their hand.

Trying to mask your fear, you call to the figure with a growl, “Who the fuck are you!? Don’t come any closer!…”

“It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you.” The more the stranger speaks, the more you swear you can recognize their voice. You keep on your toes as they approach closer and closer, until there’s only a couple feet separating your forms. It’s not until a light appears, right in the palm of the figure’s hand, do you finally match the voice to a face.

Mina smiles softly. “I’ve been waiting for you, (Y/N).”

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

He’s running. With no destination in mind. Lungs screaming for oxygen. But he can’t stop. No matter how the rocks and branches tear at his skin. Have to get away. Warm blood spills down his arms and feet. Have to get away before he finds him. Violet and crimson bruises stain his flesh like acid. Have to get away before he finds him and finishes the job. Running deeper and deeper into the black.

Fat droplets spill down his cheeks in scarlet trails. Of terror. Of pain. More tears blur his vision. Colors of all shades meld into one single glow. Every wildflower is grey. Every leaf is grey. Even his blood is grey. He cannot tell which one of four hands is his own. Fingers outstretched. Searching for answers. Searching for comfort.

What has he done to deserve this misery? What merciless deity has subjected him to such violent torment? What has he done to deserve each slap, each broken bone, each lick against his skin? What kind of unkind universe allows a young boy to suffer at the hands of his own father?

His ankle catches in the dip of a rabbit hole. More agony erupts through his veins. Body meeting the hard earth with a pound. It hurts. It HURTS. Sobs are long past uncontrolled now. Maybe he can cry himself an ocean. And drown in the currents of his own tears. His ankle throbs. There would be no more pain. No more suffering then.

A sharp rock would do the job. One stab to the throat and he’s out like a light. It would be so easy. So easy. The stone sears his palm like a handful of ice. Its surface even colder against his neck. His father can’t punish him in death. Can’t find him when he’s gone. He would be safe. Dead. And safe. He presses the point deeper into his skin.

Who would miss him? His mother? His sisters? The villagers of his town? Do they know he’s gone past the territory border? Do they know he’s suffered the wrath of a thousand suns? Do they even care? Will they mourn him? Acknowledge him?… Celebrate his absence?

Echoes of a shrill groan bounce through the trees. His grasp loosens. Blood pools into his collarbones as the rock tumbles back to the earth. Trembling legs bear his weight. Ankle still throbbing. He takes a step forward. Then another. Then another. His hands shake like a helpless rose in a violent windstorm.

There’s someone else in the woods. It’s another boy. Strewn among a bed of dead leaves. Laid within a puddle of his own blood and sweat. Mud clings to every available patch of skin. Like a shadow of nature. Thick pus oozes from his thorn-bounded wrists. He can’t see his face. But he knows the scent of pain.

“Help me, please.” He can’t tell if the voice is the boy’s or his own. Or maybe he’s finally lost his mind. Overthrown by the claws of insanity. Maybe death will come for him now. Bruised. Cracked. Broken. Like a piece of useless trash no one desires. Take him. End his pain now.

“Jinyoung…” The voice is clearer now. Adamant. Death has come. Sweet and merciful. Arms up toward the heavens. Fingers outstretched. Searching for comfort. Searching for relief. Something warm cradles his hand. Tears and blood mix along the canvas of his body. Another call of his name. Distorted. But real. Loving.

“You need to drink this…” Something cold presses against his lips. A sigh escapes. Death really has been his true friend all along. Sweet liquid invades his taste buds. Swallows the thickness like a greedy child. Thank you. Thank you so much.

When Jinyoung opens his eyes, the blurred forest is gone, as is the pain. He searches the dark room for the bearer of his fate, wanting to verbally express his appreciation and pledge his loyalty. However, the face that appears in his vision is neither spiritual nor resemblance of the grim reaper—it is the wounded boy from the forest. Now a man.

“I’m here, brother…” His murmur is faint against Jinyoung’s ears. Soft. His eyelids begin to droop, the same darkness, yet more tame and kind, overtaking the forefront of his mind. He can’t fight it off. Not this time.

The voice continues to lull him, calm him, as Jinyoung slips back into a dreamless sleep.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“If you’re gonna kill me, then just get it over with.” You hiss, keeping alert as Mina proceeds to pace around the wide, dim cavern. Never before have you felt such anger, such hatred toward another human being, except at this very moment. “Stop playing around like this is some fucking game. I want nothing to do with it.”

“I’m not going to kill you, (Y/N). That’s the last thing I want to do.”

“Yeah? Is that the same thing you told Nayeon before you murdered her?”

Mina’s sigh is neither one of frustration or annoyance. In fact, if you knew any better, you would have thought the sound to be something close to exhaustion.

Your shoulder tense as the witch approaches, maneuvering yourself to shield Mark who lays behind you. Still asleep. Noticing your protective stance, Mina backs off with another sigh and runs a trembling hand across her sweaty forehead.

She murmurs softly, “We weren’t always killers, you know? Momo and I—we used to be innocent… and good.”

For a moment, you merely gape at the witch, unable to conjure up a proper response. Mina ignores your silence, either uncaring or unknowing, and takes a seat across from your frozen form. Still a good amount of distance away. Her eyes glance toward Mark’s unconscious body before turning back to you with a blank expression.

“He’s alright. I put him under a sleeping spell.”

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this?” Your strict, yet inquisitive tone pulls a grimace across her face.

“I knew if I took Mark, I would be able to get you alone… to talk.”

“Why?”

Mina doesn’t answer your question and proceeds to stare off into space. “You know, I was in the foster system for years, always dreaming about the day I would finally quit bouncing from one home to the next.

“I was fourteen when I was adopted, and also when I met Momo.” The weak smile that forms across her lips stirs something inside your gut. “I had always wanted a sister, loving parents, and a home to call my own, which I finally had… It was the best feeling in the world.” She pauses to release a breathy chuckle, “It’s funny—what I would give to go back in time and feel like that again…”

You bite your lip. “What… What happened to them?”

“Our parents were killed by our town’s witch coven in a ritual gone wrong.” Mina whispers, tilting her head and fluttering her eyes closed. A single teardrop escapes her lid, dripping sadness down her flushed cheek. “It was an accident, but the damage had already been done…

“Once Momo found out about her hunter-roots, she became different—vengeful. She slaughtered those witches without so much as batting an eyelash, but it wasn’t enough. She needed to kill again and again and again. ”

“Why didn’t you stop her?”

“Because I couldn’t.” She shakes her head, another droplet trailing down her skin. “After our parents died, she was just so—so heartbroken. I could barely get her out of bed in the mornings, much less make her eat or go out or anything…” You watch sullenly as Mina wipes her eyes before shrugging, “It was like her soul died with them, and the sister I knew and loved was a shell of who she once was.”

You release a sigh of your own. “Until she killed those witches.”

“I convinced myself that it was fair—their lives for our parents. And every other life she—we took, I tried to make up some sort of excuse that it was justified…

“But it became too much.” She says, “After Nayeon, I knew I couldn’t handle anymore death. Not even for Momo.”

Your eyes widen when you realize the shadows along her face are not shadows at all, but her veins gradually appearing in the forms of inky, spider-webbed lines. When she lifts her gaze back to your own, her pupils are dilated to slits and rimmed with jet black irises.

“I knew Momo could never stop killing, so I used every bit of my magic to strip her of her strength long enough to allow the wolf pack to do what should have been done a long, long time ago.”

“Your face… It’s—”

“Dark magic is a funny thing, (Y/N).” Mina laughs sarcastically, tracing the black veins along the back of her hand with the tip of her finger. “The power itself feels so good, like a high that never comes down, but like every drug, you don’t realize it’s killing you until it’s too late.”

Holding back tears, you shake your head. “Why are you telling me all of this?”

“Because you deserve to know what this world does to you.” Mina answers, crawling closer to reach for your hands. You don’t flinch at her abnormally cold touch, nor do you make any fight to pull away.

The witch stares directly into your eyes. “Knowing about the supernatural comes with a price. Your values, your morals—everything you know will be tested at every possible moment, and piece by piece, your soul will chip away to nothing.

“I could sense your humanity the very first time we met.” With a black-lined finger, Mina caresses a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen until then. “You’re different from other mortals… If you go down this path of darkness, then it will destroy you, (Y/N).”

“I don’t understand…” You sob, attempting to cling to Mina’s hands as she begins to pull away.

“You will. One day.” With given effort, she eventually peels herself away from your grasp and retires back to her lonely place in the shadows. She retracts something from the pocket of her jeans, but you can’t make out much through the darkness. Only the gleam of something sharp. Mina offers a weak smile— her lips as black as night.

“I hope you live a long, happy life, (Y/N). Without any of this.”

You watch in horror as the witch lifts a small pocket-knife right beneath her jaw and slices across her throat. Dark blood immediately spurts from the wound and paints her skin and the cavern floor red. Mina’s eyes keep to yours as she garbles and chokes, before the irises themselves grow white and her figure collapses to the ground. She squirms and spasms for a moment or two, then falls uncomfortably silent. Completely still.

Nausea bubbles in your stomach like a tidal wave, and you have to force yourself to look away from the vulgar scene before you vomit. Even then, the sight of the knife dragging across her windpipe and her strangled noises remain at the base of your thoughts. You’re sobbing uncontrollably, you quickly realize, gasping for air and shaking like a madwoman.

“(Y/N)?…”

The husky call awakens you from the beginnings of the anxiety attack. When you peer down, Mark’s eyes are hooded and bleary, but open and alert. He forces himself upright with a pained groan, rubbing at his likely sore shoulders before glancing around the cavern with visible confusions strewn along his features. His gaze immediately stops at the sight behind you, the confusion ebbing to terror, then sympathy.

Mark’s expression is absolutely heartbroken as he returns his focus back to you. “Oh my—(Y/N), I’m so, so sorry…” You practically throw yourself into his awaiting arms with a loud wail, curling into his body like a small child. He holds you tightly, his embrace warm and safe, while murmuring soft assurances into your ear.

“She just—just k-killed herself!.. I couldn’t-couldn’t do any-anything—!”

“Shhh…” Mark cradles the back of your head in his palm, caressing light circles into your scalp with his thumb. “Just don’t think about that right now, okay? Focus on something else—keep talking to me.”

You sharply breathe through your nose, inhaling the various elements of Mark’s scent. Rainwater. Earthiness. His sweet cologne. A gentle hint of lingering bourbon. As you count, the panic in your chest begins to die down… but the trepidation remains.

Your tone is soft, calm when you finally speak again. “Who’s Jackson…?”

Mark’s body deeply tenses underneath your own, his hand freezing its movements upon your head. He pushes you backward to peer at your face, wide-eyed and somewhat frenzied, before humming darkly, “Where did you hear that name?”

“I met the wolf pack earlier and Changbin mentioned a Jackson.” You shake your head, “I’m sorry, I just never remembered you mentioning him and you told me to talk, so I just figured—”

“Hey…” Mark silences your rant with a finger to your lips. “Don’t apologize, okay? Jackson was… my best friend.”

“Was?”

Your companion hesitates. You can see the cogs violently turning in his brain, but before you can tell him to just abandon the subject entirely, he answers:

“He died almost four years ago.”

“Oh, Mark…” You don’t waste a second to wind your arms back around his shoulders, pulling his head tight against your chest. His form trembles beneath your touch, but like a starved man, Mark greedily surrenders to your embrace.

As you’re comforting your best friend, another dreadful thought enters your mind—almost as bad as the repetitive memory of the scenes that occurred just moments before: Mina is dead, and so is Momo.

What will you tell Sana…?

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“I don’t know what we could ever do to repay you guys.” Mark shakes his head, glancing between the circle of wolves with an incredulous expression. Behind him, Youngjae and Jisung both nod in agreement while Lia offers a grateful smile. Chan responds with a grin of his own before moving forward to place a careful hand on Mark’s shoulder.

The Alpha hums, “We protect our own. No payback required.”

“Plus the huntress didn’t even put up a fun fight.” Dahyun snickers, joining Chan in wrapping a tight arm around Mark’s waist. He pats her head as she nuzzles into his chest, releasing an amused chuckle into the torn fabric of his shirt. “Good thing we weren’t in our wolf forms, or we would have literally ripped her to shreds!”

“Dahyun, please.” Yugyeom rolls his eyes, earning another laugh from his sister. The she wolf leans upward to press a kiss to Mark’s cheek and whisper a farewell before exiting the mausoleum to join the other waiting members of the pack outside. Chan follows Dahyun soon afterward, leaving only Yugyeom alone with the witch coven.

Mark sends the wolf a soft glance. “I owe you my life, Gyeom. Thank you.”

“Like Chan said, hyung, we protect our own.” Yugyeom waves off his thanks, though Mark can visibly see the younger male attempting to hold back a smile. “Whether you like it or not, you’ll always have a place with us. Jackson-hyung made sure of that.”

At the mention of his passed friend, Mark is reminded of his conversation with you inside the cavern. For some reason, the mere mention of the name does not strike the usual despair it has in the past. It actually feels good to hear it, he realizes. Maybe he should try saying it himself more often.

“Don’t be a stranger, okay? We still play beer pong every Friday at the cabin.”

“I was always pretty good at bp.” Mark chuckles at the memory, “You and Bam are always the first ones to get shit-faced though.”

“It’s not my fault Bam literally has no skill.”

The head witch tilts his head. “Kind of is… You do pick him as your teammate every game.”

“Not the point.” Yugyeom sends Mark a playful glare while shrugging on his brown leather jacket. Mark follows the youngster to the door, pausing when he directs his goodbyes to the other members of the coven. Once he’s finished, Yugyeom meets Mark’s gaze with a silent sigh before pulling the witch into a tight hug.

“I’ve missed you, hyung.”

“Me too, Gyeom.” Mark confesses, breathing in Yugyeom’s familiar woodsy scent. The fragrance brings back even more pleasant memories that act to warm his heart. He gives the wolf one final squeeze before pushing him away with some reluctance and gestures toward the door. “Better go before Dubu lands herself in a fist fight with Changbin.”

“Don’t even get me started on those two.” Laughing at the expression of pure annoyance across his face, Mark watches as Yugyeom bids him one final farewell and takes off into the pouring rain. In the distance, Mark swears he can hear Dahyun’s headstrong voice telling Chan off for something. The knowledge widens his smile.

But his rush of jubilation is only temporary for Lia’s shrill scold yanks him back to reality:

“—almost got us killed, asshole! What don’t you understand about that!?”

“How was I supposed to fucking know that it was a set-up!?” Minho hisses at the female witch, rising from his perch at the small dining table to enter the disorganized circle of conversation. “You guys made it very clear that my input in everything was useless—”

“Now that’s just bullshit.” Mark interrupts the younger witch, “You were the one who stormed off and have been M.I.A. for the past however many days. The fact that you’re trying to assign blame is fucking stupid.”

Minho scoffs., pointing to Lia. “And what the hell is she doing then!? This is what I mean when I say you take sides—when everyone takes sides! None of you ever take me seriously!”

“How can we when you go out and do stupid shit like this?” Lia growls.

“We’re alive, and the people who killed Nayeon are dead.” Youngjae cuts in, stepping in between the seething pair with a shake of his head. “There’s no reason to fight, okay? We should be celebrating and—”

“I have no desire to celebrate a goddamn thing.”

Mark rolls his eyes as Minho begins to gather his belongings, pushing past Lia with a little more force than what is necessary.

Like Mark, Lia also rolls her eyes. “Gonna run away again and live off the radar for another week or so?”

“Fuck you.”

“Enough!” Mark nearly yells, his mood now at rock bottom. He sends Lia a stern expression, as well as one to a silent Jisung, before pointing toward the door. “It’s been a long day, and we all need some time to process. Go home and sleep on it, alright?”

Lia doesn’t say a word. She only grabs her bag, storms past Mark and Youngjae, and disappears into the storm outside. Close behind, Jisung takes the time to pull on his raincoat and murmur a hushed goodbye, before following in the female witch’s footsteps. Minho goes to leave as well, but before he can make it past the doorway, Mark blocks his path.

The former addresses him in a hiss, “What the fuck now?”

“We need to talk—”

“No, we don’t. Cause I’m done.”

Mark raises an eyebrow, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I want nothing to do with you fuckers anymore.” Minho seethes with the most piercing glare Mark has ever seen, “Consider me self-exiled.”

Mark has more to say, but Minho literally shoves his way out the door. For a second, Mark debates on whether or not he should run after the witch, and convince him to reconsider his decision. But he decides against it. Minho needs time. And so does Mark.

“She used what is called the Sleeping Beauty spell to put you in a coma.” Mark tears his gaze away from Minho’s retreating silhouette and faces his remaining company. Somewhere in the midst of his confrontation with the younger witches, Youngjae had retreated to the lectern and flipped through an Encyclopedia of Spells.

Mark approaches the siphoner as he continues, “She bound your consciousness to her life force. So only when she died, you could awaken.”

“Makes sense.” The head witch collapses onto the sofa with a loud sigh, “One minute I was watching Jinyoung take a bullet for me, and the next I was in that cave with (Y/N).”

A small moment of silence passes. Mark relishes the peace, propping his suddenly heavy head on the palm of his hand. The quiet, like his positive mood, doesn’t remain as Youngjae eventually breaks it:

“How was she? (Y/N)?”

Mark shrugs. “She was… traumatized. It was a lot for her.”

“But she’ll be okay? Right?” Youngjae joins Mark on the couch, tracing the patterns of the cushions with a worried expression. “You don’t think she’ll… leave Moon Dye?”

“I honestly don’t know, Youngjae.” The head witch offers the siphoner a lost glance, trying to ignore the obnoxious pounding inside his head. An aspirin and a nice, long fifteen hour sleep sounds like a dream in heaven. “I hope not.”

“Me too.”

The silence returns. Mark takes the time to flutter his eyes closed and lean his head back into the sofa. Exhaustion immediately overtakes his mind like a vice, ensnaring his physical body in the need to rest—which is kind of ironic, since he had been in a deep, deep sleep only hours prior.

“Hey, hyung?”

Mark hums, not bothering to open his eyes.

He hears Youngjae inhale a shaky breath before whispering, “I thought… I thought I lost you…”

At the siphoner’s pained tone, Mark immediately opens his eyes and turns to his companion. Youngjae refuses to meet his gaze, finding interest in the loose threads among the couch cushions. Mark doesn’t push him to do so, nor does he really need to. With a heavy heart and an even heavier headache, he merely murmurs to the siphoner:

“You won’t ever lose me, Youngjae… Not if I can help it.”

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

You’ve never exactly known what it’s like to live a stable life.

As a child, you were stuck in the foster care system since the day you were basically born, never having met the people who brought you into the world. No one ever told you the identity of your parents, not that you ever wanted to find out. Knowing your own mother left you, a newborn barely a day old, on the doorstep of a local church is enough to warrant your fair share of loathing toward the woman. Intense loathing.

You were never adopted, but once you hit sixteen, you filed for emancipation and set out for a life of your own. For the first couple years, you bounced back and forth between cities, taking up job opportunities as they came and working toward good enough grades in order to eventually qualify for an academic scholarship. You achieved just that, attended a university remote, and graduated with both your bachelors and masters. It wasn’t easy, but you did it. All on your own.

Moon Dye Bay was just supposed to be another temporary fix, then you met Mark that day in Poison Square, and for once you actually looked forward to staying in the mysterious, little town for longer than usual…

That was before you witnessed a woman slit her own throat.

So maybe after you and Mark parted ways in the cemetery, the thought of leaving town crossed your mind. In fact, you were more than ready to pack up your bags and make a beeline for the bus transit. However, the moment you entered your apartment to find Sana sobbing on the kitchen floor… your plans changed. Even more so when she told you that Jihyo had left in a panic after ranting and raving about tattoos and magic.

Jihyo is gone. Momo and Mina are dead. Sana is devastated.

Moon Dye Bay continues to see you for another day.

You inhale the final gulp of your tea before depositing the mug back on your nightstand and slipping underneath your bed covers. Today was the shittiest day you’ve ever experienced, which is saying a lot. All you wish to do is sleep everything away and deal with the emotional baggage tomorrow. Hopefully Mina’s foreboding words won’t follow you into your dreams.

With a sigh of relief, you lean back into the pillows and curl tighter underneath the weight of the blankets. You try to clear your thoughts as much as possible while rolling onto your side. Drowsiness immediately clouds your senses the moment you reach a comfortable position. Preparing to surrender to the darkness that calls, you move to close your eyes, but something catches your attention in the corner of your room.

You peer toward the area, unable to make out much through the thick shadows. Unfortunately, you know your brain won’t rest until you discover the source of movement. It’s probably just a trick of the moon, but just in case, you reach over to your nightstand and switch on the small reading light atop its surface.

It’s not a trick of the moon… because there’s a man standing in the corner of your room, staring straight at you.

Paralyzed with a blend of fear and shock, you’re unable to do anything but stare back at the stranger. His dark eyes widen to saucers after a long moment of silence, and even amongst the shadows, you can tell his expression is one of surprise.

“Can you… Can you see me?” His husky voice proves his bewilderment, but does little to settle yours. Instead, his strange question only sends more warning bells raging throughout your head.

You somehow find your words, but they come out in little above a squeak. “Who the hell are you!?…”

“My name is Jackson… and you’re the first person I’ve talked to in a long, long time…”

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ourloveisforthelovely · 4 years ago

Text

In the Light 2

Harry Potter

Characters Sirius Black x Reader

Link to Chapter 1

Rating: Mature for minor smut

______

“You’ll never see him again.”

Your eyes snapped open. The darkness of the room surrounded you leaving you almost gasping for air. For a moment, you couldn’t help wondering if the events of that day had been only a dream? A dark sense of despair filled you leaving you almost panicking.

You weren’t sure why the feeling bothered you so. This was a feeling that you awoke to plenty of times in the past years. It seemed anytime that you dreamed of Sirius in any form of romantic way a nightmare was always to follow. For whatever reason, you weren’t allowed to think of the man you loved in a romantic light anymore.

Maybe it wasn’t being allowed to dream romantically but your brain coming back to say…

“It was only a dream! You’ll never touch him again!”

You swallowed, wanting to fight back the impending panic attack. There had been too many nights spent rocking back and forth in sobs or looking at your wedding album as a sobbing.

A warm body moving beside you quickly pulled you from your thoughts. Instant relief flooded through you as the moment you realized Sirius was lying beside you. He lay with one arm behind his head. He still sleeps the same way , you thought with a smile. You blushed the moment Sirius�� dark eyes fluttered open. A smirk crossed his face as Sirius looked at you.

“Come over here and keep me warm.”

You didn’t need to be told twice before pouncing on top of Sirius. He quickly pulled you down into a soft kiss.

“This is the way that we meant to wake up.”

Sirius muttered before kissing a small path down your neck. Your eyes clenched shut as you enjoyed every small touch Sirius had to give you.

“Is it a dream?”

You whispered as Sirius rocked his hips against your body. Your eyes closed, savoring the feeling of impending intimacy.

“Then it's a good one.”

Sirius replied. He had no plans to let you get within two feet of him anytime soon. There were 15 years worth of lovemaking to catch up on and Sirius didn’t plan to waste a moment of time. He knew that he would have to get a grip on himself when Harry arrived but for now, he had you all to himself.

Has she been with anyone else?

The dark thought crept back into Sirius’s mind. He was internally furious with himself for wondering that thought alone. The snob in him didn’t want to admit that he spent a good chunk of time in prison wondering if you had moved on or not. What if you fell in love with someone else? Someone like...Snape. The mere thought of Snape putting his miserable hands on you made Sirius’ temper rage.

“Have you slept with anyone else while I was away?”

The question came out quicker than Sirius meant for it to. Your shocked face told Sirius all that he needed to know.

“What?”

You snapped before getting off of Sirius. The question shocked you to the core! Why would he even think something like that?

You scooted to the edge of the bed and stared angrily at the floor.

“What kind of question is that?”

You asked coldly. Sirius sighed and sat up. He lit a cigarette and pushed his hair out of his eyes.

“It's a fair one. I was locked away in prison. You were young and beautiful. It was completely possible for you to move on.”

You jumped up and quickly started searching for your missing clothes.

“That is a horrible question! I married you! No one else has touched me.”

Sirius groaned when he realized that you were angry. He quickly put out the cigarette and got out of bed.

“I’m sorry, love. Come here.”

You didn’t speak for a moment as Sirius wrapped his arm around you.

“Y/n, I’m sorry. That was on my mind for years.”

You were quiet for a moment before pulling Sirius back in bed with you. Sirius quickly wrapped the duvet around your bodies.

“Y/n?”

Your eyes rolled up to his. “Again, the answer is no. When you put this ring on my finger it meant that I was for you and you only.”

Sirius was relieved by the comment. The two of you lay in silence looking at the ceiling. Sirius’ long fingers stroked through your hair. After a few moments, Sirius chuckled.

“What?”

You asked. Sirius eased your leg over his hip.

“I never thought that we would be making love in my old bedroom.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought too. If Sirius’ mother was alive and knew what the two of you were in here doing she would have died of a heart attack!

“Right under the pictures of your muggle models in bikinis.”

You said with a smirk. Sirius rolled his eyes.

“Oh please! I put those up long before you agreed to be my girlfriend. You provided a lot better company than they did. You were such a tease in the beginning.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes!

“You are a fine one to talk about being a tease! You flirted with any girl that would look your way!”

Sirius shrugged.

“I couldn’t get the girl that I wanted to flirt with me no matter how shamelessly I tried...until that night on the Astronomy Tower. You had me under your spell and still haven’t let me go.”

“The things you say.”

You said, happily. The two of you lay in silence for a few moments. Sirius’ face went cold before looking down at you sadly.

“Remember the last time we were in this house?”

Your happy smile faded. Of course, you remembered! How could you forget the last time that you were here? You didn’t want to remember it but you couldn’t help thinking back on the memory.

It was two weeks after Sirius had proposed. The two of you sat in the study of Mr. and Mrs. Black’s living room. Had it been your way, the two of you would have never been here in the first place! Sirius was dead set on getting his grandmother’s engagement ring for you. It didn’t matter how many times you had tried to tell him that you didn’t need some grand ring to show his love for you; Sirius wouldn’t listen. You sat quietly at Sirius’ side as the two of you waiting for his mother to come into the room. Looking around the room, you couldn’t help but shiver. The house was so dark and cold! You glanced at your fiance and couldn’t help but wonder how horrible this had to be for Sirius? He hadn’t been home since he moved in with your family at 16.

His parents hadn’t written one letter to check on him! They didn’t care if their oldest son even had the things that he needed to survive! In fact, Regulus had let it slip to you in a conversation that Walburga blasted her son off of the family tapestry. Regulus had tried to reason with his mother briefly, however, once the possibility of losing grace in his mother’s eyes happened Regulus backed off.

You let your eyes glance back to Sirius. He didn’t look like the man that you had fallen in love with. Now he looked like the sullen boy that was in the Black family photos. He wasn’t the boy that always smiled and was full of jokes. His eyes didn’t deviate from the fire that was going in the fireplace. You wanted to tell him how handsome he looked in the dark suit that he was wearing but decided not to. Sirius didn’t seem like he was up for being told how handsome that he was at the moment.

Swallowing, you looked around the room again. The expensive black dress that you were wearing seemed suddenly hot. Sirius had bought it for you a week beforehand saying “it looked nice.” Reading between the lines, you decided it was to make the two of you look good upon visiting his parents. Sirius wanted to show his parents that he was making it just fine and was able to provide for his future wife without his family's money. That was only partially true though. If Sirius’ uncle had left him a very nice inheritance, the two of you would be like most new couples starting out. The two of you owed his uncle Alphard so much! Coincidentally, the two of you were most likely the reason that he was also blasted off of the family tapestry.

“What do you mean he is here?”

You felt Sirius tense when a shrill voice came from the other room. The sound of high heels clicking on the floor made your heart pound!

A moment longer Walburga stomped into the room with her husband at her heels. She was a beautiful woman but her beauty was all that she had! Orion, meanwhile, walked after his wife quickly. He looked as displeased to see his son as his wife did. It took all you had to swallow a fit of rage back You wanted nothing more than to tell Sirius’ family exactly what you thought of them. It wouldn’t matter though. As big headed as they were, it would probably roll right over their heads.

“What do you want?”

Walburga snapped in Sirius’ direction. Sirius gave his mother a brilliant smile and flipped his shoulder-length hair over his shoulder.

“Good to see you lot too. Don’t worry, this will not be a regular thing. I don’t expect invitations to Sunday tea or anything. I want grandmother Irma’s engagement ring. It was promised to me.”

Walburga and Orion looked at each other clearly thinking about their son’s request. Walburga was the first to speak. It wasn’t to Sirius but to you directly.

“I suppose you are the girl? Who are you?”

“She is Y/n Potter.”

Walburga scowled at Sirius.

“Can she talk or do you have to do that for her?”

“I can talk just fine, thank you.”

You replied coldly. Walburga raised one of her perfect eyebrows.

“Potter...hmm...I should have seen this coming. Your family is the reason that my son is no longer in our family.”

Sirius’ hand tightened on yours but you were not about to back down.

“Oh no ma’am, you have alienated your son yourself. My family has just taken him in and showed him the love that he clearly didn’t get from your lot. It must be truly dreadful being such a miserable egotistical old hag and would disown your own child for some pureblood nonsense! Shame on you...all of you!”

Walburga was stunned by your acidic tone. Clearly, no one had ever spoken to her in this tone. Regulus jumped up, hoping to diffuse the situation.

“At least she is a pureblood, eh?”

Walburga shook her head.

“That is why your family is the laughing stock of the pureblood families!”

Sirius jumped up, his handsome face twisted with rage.

“That’s it! Let’s go Y/n! I’ll buy you a much nicer ring that doesn’t have my family’s god awful reputation tied to it.”

You pulled yourself from the memory with a headshake. Sirius was looking up at the ceiling.

“Oh yes, I remember well. We were so young then.”

Sirius sat up as the sunlight began to pour into the room. He chuckled and looked back to you with a smile. “You sure showed that horrible old hag who was boss.”

You smiled, still proud of your comeback to Walburga.

“I would do it again too. I am going to go downstairs and help Molly with breakfast.”

Sirius gave you a pout.

“Harry will be here the day after tomorrow and I’ll have to be good!”

You slowly pulled on your abandoned dress.

“Yes, you will and we have all day today and all night. You’ll be just fine. Besides, you need to eat. You aren’t as young as you used to be.”

Sirius gave you a scowl and started buttoning up his shirt.

“That may be true but I think we can both agree I haven’t changed that much.”

You rolled your eyes before pressing a kiss to his chin.

“You can prove it to me later.”

When you walked into the kitchen, Molly looked up from the frying pan. She gave you a kind smile.

“Feeling well?”

You nodded eagerly and took the cup of tea that she held out to you.

“Much better now.”

Molly giggled and went back to her cooking. You drank your tea quietly for a few moments before turning to find something to do.

“What would you like me to do?”

Molly glanced over her shoulder.

“I seem to remember that you make wonderful eggs. I was telling Arthur not long ago how much I would love some of the strawberry jam that you used to make.”

Smiling, you made a mental note to surprise Molly with a jar later.

“Hint taken.”

You said.

“Are things better between Sirius and yourself now, dear?”

You nodded.

“They are. I mean we have a lot that we are going to have to work through. We’ve been apart for many years. I am sure there are things that have changed about ourselves that we will have to work through. There are things about him that I can tell are different. Azkaban has changed him, as you can imagine. It changed both of us.”

Molly watched with you with that motherly expression of concern that she wore so well.

“I’m sure it has. Everything will work out, dear. The two of you can get your lives back on track to the way they were supposed to. The two of you will make some lovely children.”

You looked down sadly feeling like you had been punched in the stomach.

“That won’t happen.”

Molly turned.

“What do you mean?”

You looked up and rubbed your forearm.

“I can’t get pregnant. Sirius and I found out not long after we were married. That’s why taking care of Harry was so important to us.”

Molly put her hands over her mouth.

“Oh, darling! I am so sorry!”

You shook your head.

“It's fine! You didn’t know and I have come to accept it.”

Molly still looked unconvinced.

“Well, I am going to go round up everyone for breakfast. You know, I have a couple of kids that I can loan you.”

You smiled.

“That’s tempting.”

Molly turned and walked out of the room feeling rather embarrassed and heartbroken.

You, meanwhile, looked down at the cup of tea in your hand. That feeling of soul-sucking sadness rolled in like it usually did when someone mentioned the aspect of children. You hadn’t thought about the time that you were given the awful news in some time. For the first time in a long time, you decided to lose yourself in that memory…

“We can go home.”

You looked up at Sirius as he made the idle comment. The two of you stood on James and Lily’s front doorstep about to go in for dinner. You shook your head.

“No, Sirius. I want to go. Besides, if we go home we will be just miserable. I want to see Harry. Lily has just been home from the hospital for a few days.”

Sirius only nodded. You could tell that he was still upset too. The two of you hadn’t said much since leaving the doctor. Sirius stood a moment before pulling you into his arms.

“Everything will be fine. We don’t have to have children to be happy.”

A moment later, the door opened stopping further conversation. James stood on the other side with his happy smile.

“There you two are! We’ve been wondering where you’ve been!”

You walked inside before Sirius and heard him muttering something about doctors taking forever. James laughed.

“Tell me about it!”

He wrapped his arms around you in a quick hug.

“Are you feeling alright?”

You only nodded. James' gleeful smile faded as he immediately knew something was wrong.

“Y/n?”

You shook your head as Lily walked in holding a small bundle. The last thing that you wanted was to spoil this moment with your nephew. Lily smiled as she placed baby Harry in your arms.

“Oh Lily, he’s adorable!”

You said, happily. Harry didn’t seem to be the least bit bothered by being jostled around for the moment.

“So when can we expect the two of you to have a little one? Harry will need a playmate.”

You slowly looked up to see Sirius shaking his head at James who was questioning his best friend silently.

“I might as well tell you both. We won’t be having children. Apparently, I can’t get pregnant. It's not from lack of trying either. We have been trying since we got married.”

Lily’s hands immediately went to her mouth as James put a hand on Sirius’ back.

“Sweetheart, I am so sorry!”

Lily said, fighting the tears. James quickly came in.

“Maybe you should get a second opinion?”

Sirius shook his head.

“It's alright, mate. We’ll just spoil the hell out of your kids. Like you can lend them to us and we can send them back to you flying on high on sweets. You know, now that I say that out loud...that doesn’t sound very good.”

You were pulled from the memory when a hand closed on your wrist. Jumping back, you froze seeing Severus Snape looking at you coldly.

“Have you lost your hearing in addition to your mind?”

You frowned, knowing this conversation wouldn't go well. The last time that you had seen your ex-friend, he was offering to marry you since “your bastard husband” clearly couldn’t do the job.

“Excuse me but I wasn’t listening to you in the slightest.”

Snape’s frown intensified.

“I see you are back with Sirius. While I am not thrilled about it I am not surprised.”

You rolled your eyes.

“What did you expect, Severus? I am married to Sirius! I love him! I have a chance to make things work with him and get a second chance at life. You can bet all of the dark magic in the world that I am going to take it.”

Snape didn’t say anything for a moment. He was half expecting you to say something colder. “He’s ruined you, you know. You used to be such a kind woman. Now you are snarky and cold as the rest of the Black family.”

You were horrified at that comment! The last thing that you were was anything like Walburga, Bellatrix, or any of those other crazies!

“You don’t know me at all.”

“Clearly.”

Snape replied before continuing.

“The moment you began dating Sirius you changed. You’re big-headed brother and darling husband made my life hell and you did nothing. Just like Lily.”

You threw the teacup that you were holding down and started for your wand.

“And you were a death eater! I didn’t know you either because my friend wouldn't have done any of those horrible things!”

Snape stepped back. The last thing that he was about to do was get into a full-fledged duel with you in the middle of a house. It didn’t matter if he liked you or not now, he still didn’t want to physically harm you.

“You don’t know what I would do because you were too busy playing house with Black! You had a pureblood husband and was busy making a name for yourself. After he was locked up, I wanted to care for you!”

You shook your head.

“I didn’t want you! I was married to whom I wanted!”

Snape laughed bitterly.

“It looks like you have what you wanted again. The two of you make the perfect little overachiever couple! It will be funny when you fall pregnant and have a child with a convict. The child will have a father that can’t leave the house. It will be amusing to watch.”

You had begun to tremble with rage by this point.

“You son of a bitch!”

“That’s enough!”

Both Snape and yourself turned to see Sirius standing in the doorway. His face was angry. The expression alone let you know that he had heard the whole conversation.

“Well well, Sirius. How kind the two of you are for coming out in public.”

Sirius glared at Snape. He wanted nothing more than to punch the other man in the face! Cursing him sounded like a better idea!

“You’re not to talk to her again. Maybe you forgot the hell that I made your life in school and I will be happy to do it again. Y/n, come on.”

Sirius’ hand locked around your wrist before pulling you from the room leaving Snape to his brooding...

______

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#harry potter #Sirius Black #sirius x reader #reader x sirius #remus lupin #molly weasley #arthur weasley #james potter #lily evans potter #walburga black #orion black #regulus black #ron weasley #hermione granger #harry potter fan fiction #severus snape #Ben Barnes as Sirius Black #in the light #In the Light Chapter 2

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mary-nesbitt-larking · 5 years ago

Text

Why I moved from Choices to Lovestruck (and you should too)

It’s no secret to anyone who knows me well that I was a BIG Choices stan. I ran three Choices blogs (begging-for-kamilah, ask-kamilah sayeed and ask-priya-lacroix) for a long time, fulfilling fanfiction requests and interacting with many wonderful people. During my time in the fandom, I made some beautiful friends and created brilliant memories that I wouldn’t trade for the world. Unfortunately, as time passed, I started to notice a decline in the quality of content that Pixelberry were providing, and after a lot of hesitation, I decided to remove the app and leave the fandom. I was very lucky in that a very good friend introduced me to a different app with a similar style. Lovestruck was something that I’d heard about on the grapevine but had no idea what it was or if it could possibly compare to the fun that Choices had given me over the years. After a lot of resisting and stubborn behaviour on my part, I finally gave it a chance and have never looked back since. Here are just some of the many reasons why you should too:

There are no forced love interests in Lovestruck. That’s right. You read that correctly. You choose your love interest BEFORE you start the story so there will never be any frustrating interactions with characters that you’re not interested in. Remember in Bloodbound Book 2 when you go to Paris with Adrian and Jax (leaving the only two female love interests at home) and you were forced to hold hands with one of them (until Pixelberry later apologised and altered the scene)? There is definitely none of that to worry about in Lovestruck. The person you’re interested in is the only character who will show interest in you, and the entire story will be centred around him/her/them.

Speaking of which, it’s time to talk about the fantastic level of LGBTQ representation in Lovestruck. Non binary characters aren’t just side characters. They actually have their own routes, as well as a huge array of adorable side characters. There are also demisexual characters, asexuals and of course, plenty of lesbians and bisexuals. Voltage (creators of Lovestruck) also very proudly celebrate pride month by releasing incredible LGBTQ content.

On the topic of representation, something that has to be applauded is the racial and religious representation in Lovestruck. You can romance Jewish characters, black characters, south American characters, Asian characters and I’m sure the list goes on. Choices fans might be sad to find that you don’t have the option to customise any love interests or MCs, but I think that this is a blessing.

Something that I find very cool about Lovestruck is that there are different stories for every love interest. For example, if you romance one person from a certain book, romancing another from the same book will get you a completely different story with a totally different route. It’s a stark contrast to Choices, in which Pixelberry- quite literally- copy and paste the same lines for all the available love interests.

And along the same lines of copying and pasting, it’s very refreshing to see that Lovestruck doesn’t reuse faces. I always found it terribly off putting when you’d be playing a Choices book and a love interest from another book would be your waiter or waitress.

One brilliant thing about Lovestruck is the way that they present the MC. Every MC has their own unique personality and backstory. Whilst that does mean “less choice”, it’s really refreshing having an MC with parents. With siblings. With a job. A life. An actual story outside their love interest. There’s one MC who discusses her experiences as a woman of colour, and I think that’s exceptionally important for the player.

On a superficial note, Lovestruck has GORGEOUS art. I did love the art in Choices too, but I don’t think it has anything on Lovestruck. The backgrounds are stunning, but it’s the characters who are gorgeous. Not to mention, we get absolutely beautiful CGs. This is something Choices sorely lacks. In the later books, the LIs and MCs even blink and move which I find gives it a more engaging feel. There are also MANY more facial expressions for every character in Lovestruck. Blushing faces, a neutral face, smiles, angry faces, sad faces, shocked faces, anxious faces... It’s not just the same standard five like in Choices.

Another superficial- but very cool aspect- of Lovestruck is that almost every outfit is 100% free. The MCs and LIs will change their clothes whenever appropriate and you don’t have to pay a penny. The only time when outfits will ever cost any in-game currency is if it will mean you gain a CG out of it, but in my personal experience, I’ve only ever seen this being the case for two books.

This is just a side note but something I love in Lovestruck is that adorable animals aren’t paywalled. They’re just there. Your love interest might have a cat- or a bear in one book- and you don’t have to pay to love up on them. They’re just another part of the story.

Still on the more superficial side of things is the music. I will totally admit, I LOVE the music in Choices and have a fair bit of it downloaded to my iTunes. But for anyone hesitant to move over to Lovestruck for the sake of the music, don’t panic! The music is just as brilliant, just as catchy and just as heartfelt.

One of the things that always stressed me about Choices was the in-game currency. Diamonds were expensive and unfortunately, every single chapter would involve multiple diamond scenes. In many books, the diamond scenes were so important to the story that to go without them would mean that huge chunks of plot were missed. The amazing thing about Lovestruck is that if you choose not to do the premium scenes (the currency is hearts) then it does absolutely nothing to the story whatsoever. The heart scenes are purely there to give you a little bonus but whether you choose to do them or not, nothing about the story or your relationship with your love interest will change.

And whilst we’re on the topic of heart scenes, it’s important to note that whilst Choices usually has 3-4 diamond scenes PER chapter, heart scenes only pop up around 9 out of every 12 chapters, and you will VERY rarely find anything that costs more than 30 hearts.

The system to earn these hearts is totally different to Choices. Whilst you could watch ads to earn diamonds a few times per day, plus playing chapters would gain you two diamonds, Lovestruck gives you “quests”. Every few hours, the quests refresh and all you have to do is read a certain amount of chapters of a specified love interest, and you get the hearts. It’s a win/win situation because the more you play, the more you get.

Not to mention, every day you get to earn a puzzle piece and when you complete a puzzle, you win a certain amount of hearts. It seems tedious at first but they add up fast!

And it’s not just hearts you earn, either! In Choices, you would use “keys” to read a chapter. In Lovestruck, you use “tickets”. Some quests mean that if you read a certain amount of chapters, you get given 2, 3 or even 5 tickets so you can just keep on reading!

Since I’ve addressed some of the Lovestruck mechanics, I just want to talk about how much I love that you can fast forward, rewind, autoplay (it plays hands free and there are three different speeds to choose from) and even choose the chapter you’d like to play. This is amazingly refreshing because when it comes to Choices, you have to start the entire book again if you want to get to a specific chapter, AND you have to click through it fast because you can’t fast forward.

Oh, and when you’ve played a chapter, a little heart symbol will appear next to it if it has a premium scene so you know whether or not you need to save your hearts!

I really want to address the smut scenes. I know that sounds like another more superficial topic but I think it’s pretty important. I think there’s something more “mature” about Lovestruck and smut. The sex scenes are tasteful yet somehow sexier. They’re not rushed at all. And Voltage aren’t afraid to include actual kinky moments.

More importantly, though, is that Lovestruck addresses virginity and handles it incredibly tastefully. It’s done in a realistic fashion, too. Sometimes, characters don’t really feel like having sex with their partner. Sometimes they want to at first but then feel anxiety. Sometimes they’re scared. Sometimes they want to stop half way through. Sometimes they have trouble reaching orgasm. All very real scenarios that are addressed tactfully and beautifully. The virgins (be they the MC or LI) in Lovestruck are realistic. They don’t just dive into bed. It’s a process. There’s fear along with excitement. There are moments of panic. It’s not just smut for the sake of smut. It deals with adult situations, something that I always thought Choices struggled with.

Actually, it’s not just sex. These character get anxiety, depression and genuine mental health problems. And it’s dealt with so perfectly, yet so realistically. They’re anxious when it’s appropriate.

I don’t want to bash Choices too badly, as I don’t think Pixelberry are an evil company, but some of the things they did- particularly towards the end- were unforgivable.

Hana Lee’s infertility and the way that it was merely glossed over was appalling. As someone who is also infertile, I can tell you that you don’t just “get over it”, even if your partner is carrying your child.

I’ll also never quite get over the fact that when you’re almost raped in Red Carpet Diaries 2, you have to pay 30 diamonds if you want someone to stay and comfort you. As a sexual abuse victim, I think that’s grotesque, and a glorification of rape.

I can safely say, there is NOTHING like that in Lovestruck, and just to reiterate, all the important plot points are FREE.

To bring this mood back up a little bit, something I think is really cute is that when you’re choosing the love interest you’d like to romance in Lovestruck, you can see sweet little facts about them, including their birthdays, their height and their personality traits.

Sometimes the stories cross over, too, and love interests will appear in each other’s stories. And the cute thing is, if you’re romancing an LGBTQ character, it will be canonical that whichever love interest crosses over will be in an LGBTQ relationship with MC.

There are also fun little side stories that you can play, and to really make things interesting, you can often play the same book but from the point of view of your love interest! These do usually cost hearts but not many at all. 15 hearts can get you things like 4 chapters, for example!

I just want to talk about how wonderful Voltage are as a company, too. You can tell this isn’t about money for them. They just want the best for their players and it shows. They are often asking the community what they want and bringing out polls, and they will always let us have our say.

There are also no false promises of stories being “in the works”. If a story is abandoned, they won’t lie about it. There are no “politician’s answers” from them. Just pure transparency.

The last thing I want to talk about is the writing style. Lovestruck’s style is worlds apart from Choices. To describe it for you, Choices feels like playing a fun app with cool stories. Lovestruck feels like reading a book, immersing yourself in a novel. And the style is unbeatable.

TLDR; it’s time to cut the apron strings and move on from Choices. Lovestruck awaits! Tagging @lovestruckvoltage because I love you and appreciate you.

#choices stories you play #playchoices #lovestruck #voltage inc #lovestruckvoltage

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