#i can only talk about myself because im afraid of prying... and i can never express any opinions bcs what if theyre Wrong... and im just

[lucyhasnoidea]

tbh i just feel like nothing in my life sparks joy right now

[im-invisible-erased]

I just had to back off from someone who was going through that like.... BPD Mania phase when you get like a new FP/relationship and its all consuming and they start acting like really hot and cold towards someone else...(me) I can only handle so much of being talked down to like im a fucking child and that they're a genius talk before it starts effecting my own mental health... I'm really bad at just removing people because im always afraid they're going to track me down and try to get back at me for it

also there is a lot of like reasons to why I removed them they have caused me to split before and was constantly causing me to split the last couple of days and it wasn't entirely because of him showing symptoms of things. The main issue was that he said I never bothered to get to know anything about him. And unless I feel close to someone I don't really try to pry into peoples past or traumabond or anything. If someone wants to share that because they want to or trust me enough then they will... But he rarely did and him throwing that in my face I think made me snap. Like I didn't try to get to know him and I don't know anything about him... Then if he is causing my mental to go wack and split and me trying to constantly have to apologize and deescalate while he's being an asshole then fuck him if I don't know anything about him then I guess it's not a friend worth keeping around if that's how he feels. Self preservation? Idk ... I hate cutting people out like that but also he was mean and then love bombing after I apologized and just... No no.... There is a limit to how someone can treat me and he crossed the line too many times especially for someone I didn't consider that close)

Sigh why is protecting myself from severe splitting cause so much stress because I feel bad removing him from discord friends and since he randomly deleted his discord server we had In common next time he tries to contact he will just get the message I guess.

Like yes abandonment hurts and I just abandoned someone else but also I am not going to deal with someone splitting on me that is causing me to split on them and be the person that has to act like the bigger person and then they still try to do the stupid my life is worse than yours or I've overcome harder things. Or whatever you call the who is suffering more game that people like to do....and you know nothing about this.

Ugh whatever not my problem anymore.

Leave me alone forever.

Can't even sleep because I'm so stressed out over this.

[ihopesocomic]

Do you (Cat and RJ) have a coming out story you can talk about? Of course if you're not ok with it you can ignore this ask. I was just curious because I'm a closeted lesbian and it's kinda scary when you think you're alone in this (obv it's not true but that's how I feel sometimes)

Im afraid mine isn't much of a story. As a butch lesbian, I come out to people every moment of my life. It's a constant. With varying degrees of reactions. My friends knew I was a lesbian when I did, so they weren't exactly out of the loop because they're my family and I wanted them to know. It wasn't always queer-specific conversations, it was just talking about life. I also had developed confidence in myself at that time because I wasn't around my bio family. So I knew anyone who had a problem with it would remove themselves from my life. And I wasn't going to feel bad about it.

But I remained in the closet with my bio family up to like a couple years ago against my consent. Which I will never forgive them for. Because they've always been people who pry and then judge what they see when they do.

People think that coming out is this "coming of age rite of passage" and I think that's bullshit. I'm sorry if people see it that way, but it has consequences that people just. Don't consider. It's scary. I knew how my friends would react so it wasn't scary. But my bio family? While they don't sling slurs at me (to my face), I've grown up with them. I've seen how they react to people. I've heard their politics. And if they feel that way about strangers, why would I have reason to believe they'd take it well? And this didn't improve after they found out by the way. But I imagine if I didn't have my own power over the situation they would be a great deal worse about it and yes, even tho I'm older.

Every person is different of course. Some people unfortunately what it takes is for them to know someone personally for them to understand. But that's not the worst outcome I've ever seen from coming out.

I just do not see coming out as this big event that ends with rainbow confetti and a dance number. I wouldn't care if it didn't lead younger people feeling obligated to come out. It can feel really isolating whether you do or don't. This isn't so much advice as, I wish people would feel obligation to just do their thing. And that includes staying closeted around people you don't feel comfortable around. Its not about being ashamed. It's just no one's business. I have people who love me so they're the only ones that matter to me. - Cat

-

What Cat said about it not being this big event, but in reverse. My parents believed I was a lesbian for the longest time because of my complete disinterest in men and kept insisting they would accept me if that’s how I felt and I was afraid to come out. I knew they were both accepting of the LGBT+ community so the hardest part wasn’t coming out.

It was figuring just what the hell I was, because I wasn’t straight but I wasn’t gay either. I felt no sexual or romantic attraction to anyone.

It wasn’t until 2015 that I was told what asexuality was and that’s when I became openly aromantic. As a psychology major, my mother was fascinated by the idea that there’s people out there who don’t feel sexual or romantic attraction because it never occurred to her that there’s different types of attraction. Which I had to explain to her because she proposed ‘asexual dating sites’ lmao

I think the only major concern where my parents are concerned is that I’ll be lonely and isolated without a partner but loneliness is never a good reason to jump into a relationship you don’t want. Or have kids. I’ve always enjoyed my own company. I have a very cynical view on love and relationships that I won’t go into because I don’t want to invalidate anyone (I also live for healthy, supportive relationships in others), so it just isn’t for me. I’ll probably be the bitchiest and most unaffectionate partner on the planet. lol

I just live for platonic relationships. That’s about it. I’m alone and proud. - RJ

[obeiii-mee]

Heyo, this is my first time asking (im kinda new to tumblr, so please dont judge) if you would'nt mind, could you do some headcannons (or oneshots, it dosen't matter) with all the demon bros and a MC who is crippled/paralized in their legs, and has to use a wheelchair to get around? Thank you!!

——————————-

This is the first time I’ve written about a crippled MC, so I hope I didn’t fuck this up or anything. I found out that being paralysed in both legs is a disability called Paraplegia so that’s how I titled this post. And y’all are too sweet, you are more than welcome anon! I hope I can portray this properly because I am not crippled myself so I’ve opted to do some research before writing this! I hope you like it! Also, I feel inclined to add that none of the brothers would treat you too differently if you happen to have a disability because you’re their human nonetheless :)

——————————-

The Brothers with an MC that has Paraplegia and needs a wheelchair to get around:

Lucifer:

-Lucifer was in charge of choosing the final human, exchange student for the program so it’s guaranteed he already knew about your predicament before you even arrived

-Him and Diavolo probably had many meetings concerning your disability before the program could commence, considering that being unable to walk would double the chances of you getting killed since you are obviously more vulnerable

-Not to mention all the treatment you would require

-Lucifer is not well versed in human illnesses and disorders, but he makes sure that he is educated enough on the matter before you get brought down there

-It would not be easy, but he is determined to help you survive your year in DevilDom for the prince’s sake

-First problem of the day was, of course, your wheelchair

-Due to lack of time, Lucifer was unable to instal ramps around the House of Lamentation which meant that for the first couple of weeks, someone would’ve had to help you move around certain parts of the house

-He gave that highly prestigious job to himself because he didn’t trust his brothers and thought they would accidentally drop you and your wheelchair down the stairs

-He talks a lot to you, even at the beginning, because he needs to establish your needs and what he should do to make sure you don’t die for the following year

-You would have to tell him about physical therapy and how most commonly it uses heat, massage and exercise to stimulate your nerves and muscles, making it a great treatment for people with leg paralysis

-Once you two enter a more intimate and personal relationship, it’s more than likely he’ll help you perform those things himself (instead of kidnapping a human doctor from somewhere)

-Lucifer knows you have no problem getting around with your wheelchair by yourself but there are times where he’ll insist to push you along in order to give you a quick break

-I can totally imagine you two strolling around DevilDom and having cosy chats about RAD and your adjustments to DevilDom

-He has a softer side to him that he’s afraid to show most of the time, but he feels so at ease when you’re around, it’s hard for him to hold that part of him hidden from you

-Of course, your safety still remains his primary concern and he acts more like your guardian than Mammon does, even if he was originally supposed to look out for you

-He will accompany you almost anywhere. And if he can’t, he’ll have one or more of his brothers do it. And even then he’s probably lurking nearby, just in case

-He would always be willing to listen about your condition, if you wished to tell him whether you were born with the defect or why you ended up crippled later in life. Either way, he’s all ears

-If you would rather not speak about it, he wouldn’t pry and respect your decision because he knows it’s not his place to pressure you

-Because of your paralysis, it’s quite obvious to demons that you are even weaker (physically speaking) than most humans and that usually puts a target on your back

-Howver, never fear, because Lucifer is pretty quick to put lower rank demons in their place with just a mere stare

-Oop one of them passed out from the fear, haha

-In conclusion, he’s the most responsible when it comes your comfort and safety during your stay

-He makes sure you are always left in good hands and and provides most of the requirements you need

-Y’all should see how his wings puff up when he senses a threat approaching you, he looks like a peacock ready to go on attack lol

Mammon:

-The second born is unsurprisingly a bit of a jerk at first

-He stays really grumpy the whole day of your arrival because he’s stuck babysitting you stupid human

-“Lucifer c’mon, what’s all this workload for? The human can’t even walk by themselves, why do I have to help them out?”

-Wtf Mammon you can’t say shit like that

-Anyways, the following very few days, the only thing he’s thinking about is how much money he could sell your wheelchair for

-He’s the literal incarnation of greed, what else did you expect from him?

-After a while, he starts feeling a bit guilty every time he thinks about it though

-Mammon is gonna take this secret to the grave (laughs in immortal) but he actually really likes pushing you around

-Maybe it’s because it’s a clear indication to everyone around him that you are HIS human, under HIS protection and therefore you trust HIM the most since he was your FIRST MAN

-He will insist on helping you get out of that thing when you need to go to bed and stuff every night and he will get pouty real fast if you let any of his other brothers do it

-You wake up to him trying to roll around in your wheelchair one night at like 3am

-At some point, he stole a wheelchair from the human realm to match with his human. You can guess the consequences of his actions

-I can imagine you having to face a staircase or something at school and Mammon being like:

-“Fuck it, imma carry this fragile human instead; wheelchair and all!”

-Like you were a sack of potatoes or something smh

-Cue his brothers watching him from a distance as he heaves you and basically weight-lifts you up the stairs

-Ok but every now and again, he gets so sad thinking about you not being able to walk, like he starts crying kinda sad

-While you stand there like 😐 “Why are you crying?”

-He’s so quick to help if he senses you’re in danger too

-It’s canon that Mammon is crazy fast if he wants to be so if he has even the slightest impression that your life is threatened, his feet are already moving

-He will charge at your immediate threat at around 120 miles per hour-do not try him when he’s mad

-“The Great Mammon saved the day! C’mon MC, let’s go buy some ice cream. My treat! Ya better be grateful!”

-He says while the demon that tried to eat you lies on the floor with about a dozen broken bones

-Mammon is the second most powerful demon out of all of his brothers, even if he doesn’t resort to violence often

Levi:

-He didn’t really know how to react when you first teleported to DevilDom

-I mean, from the very beginning he considered you to be a human normie but at the same time, he felt bad you were stuck with his brothers for the rest of the year

-I think he would understand you would have an even harder time integrating yourself in their house because of your disability and he knows his siblings are really fucking annoying, always pushing you around and whatnot

-So, he kinda lets you hide in his room quite often

-You guys chill out in there all the time, much to the dismay of the other brothers who also want to spend time with you

-At some point, Levi definitely begged asked Lucifer to let you start online classes with him

-“But wouldn’t it be easier for MC to do online school from home rather than go to R.A.D since there aren’t any ramps or anything around there???”

-“The answer is no Leviathan.”

-“Ugh fine! What a fucking boomer-“

-For some reason, he gets so flustered whenever you ask him to push you around

-He blushes right to the tips of his ears and then he starts sputtering some nonsense that you can’t make out at all

-But he’s more than happy to do it, especially if you guys are going to a convention or if he’s dragging you out to buy new merch

-You two would get along in the sense that Levi realises the struggles you faced all your life were tough to overcome and he believes you are just like him

-Usually left out by other people, ignored even

-He knows you always listen to him ramble on about whatever he is currently obsessed with and how much you check up on him to make sure he never isolated himself

-He wants to do that for you too! Talk to him about your hobbies, please I’m begging you-he feels so bad whenever he’s doing all the talking

-If you ask him to help you with anything (getting something, helping you into bed—that sort of thing), he legally and physically can’t say ‘no’

-And he would get envious enough to stop talking to you for a day or two if you let his brothers do it instead (the second and third born are indeed similar lmao)

-S T A Y I N H I S R O O M, W H E R E Y O U C A N B E P R O T E C T E D !

-He will feel so much more at ease if you’re in his room because to him, that’s his haven

-If you’re in there with him, that means you’re not getting involved in his siblings’ endless and dangerous shenanigans

-Whenever you’re at school, he can’t help but worry about your well-being

-Because you’re human! You’re gonna get killed!! Do you know how much your organs sell on the black market in DevilDom??? 100x more than in the human realm, that’s for sure

-Would they have a black market or would it be a regular market lol

-For some reason, he also likes staying in your wheelchair when you’re not using it

-I think he just takes comfort in knowing it’s something that belongs to you and smells like you and-

-OK Levi, sit back down

-He wouldn’t treat you any differently if you had a disability tbh, but he’d be more concerned because you can’t even run away or anything

-So he’s so fuckin’ relieved when you guys are just vibing in his room

-He could die happy knowing he kept his best friend/ partner safe

Satan:

-Satan would be even more prepared for your arrival than Lucifer would, in a sense

-Out of all of his brothers, he’s most likely to understand and recognise paraplegia (either from studying human illnesses/birth defects/disabilities or from encountering humans with said disability)

-He’s a smart boy, alright?

-Always seems to be the first to notice if you need help or if someone’s bothering you

-Though in the very beginning, he was pretty tempted to just let you get killed to see how angry Lucifer could get

-Seeing dear Luci’s misery brings him great joy 🥰🥰🥰

-Once you two manage to build a very honest and strong relationship, he feels more and more inclined to keep you out of harm’s way

-Pls, he would feel so honoured if you let him push you around (it’s like you asked him to h*ld h*nds or something)

-If you require treatment of any kind, he would be so happy to help

-But in a subtle way...?

-Satan makes it seem so smooth too like he doesn’t mind lending a helping hand when in reality he’s all giddy inside

-*Kinda wants to rub it in his brothers’ faces but at the same no, because he’s definitely the bigger person here

-He wants to know how your wheelchair works

-It’s got all of these neat mechanisms and he wants to learn how they’re constructed because he never had the chance to inspect one before

-He’s such a sweetheart about asking you as well and never pries about your disability unless you start elaborating yourself

-Most of the time, he acts all charming and very gentleman-like

-So people have a hard time spotting and acknowledging the building rage inside of him every time he sees you are threatened by some moronic low rank demon

-Satan’s usually chill when it comes to injuries, unless he can see you’re in horrible pain

-There’s nothing a few spells can’t accomplish

-But when others purposefully try harming you?

-It’s like he loses all the self control he’s been trying to perfect over the centuries and he can’t help himself from at least breaking someone’s rib cage

-Satan’s a weird one because he’s protective of you even though he’s more on the relaxed side when compared to his siblings

-He very much acknowledges that you made it this far in life with your predicament so he doesn’t feel the need to baby you or anything

-You’re strong and he knows this

-It’s one of the many things he clearly loves about you

-That one time you rolled over Mammon’s foot with your wheelchair on purpose, he was wheezing

Asmo:

-Even now, he can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be stuck inside a wheelchair for the rest of his eternal life

-I mean, he’d obviously still be absolutely fabulous, have you seen him? He’s gonna be gorgeous either way

-But after the two of you meet, he definitely starts thinking about how he takes his feet for granted all the time

-It would be so difficult to complete his daily tasks without the ability to walk or run around

-That’s why he gets sad every time he remembers that’s your reality and on days like that, you’ve noticed he gives you a helluva lot more attention than usual

-He knows you don’t need pity or anything so he’s just making sure his human has all the support they can get

-Paraplegia or not, shopping trips are still a go-go

-He loves buying you clothes! And he loves helping you try them on! Asmo takes it very seriously

-Might have a go at the employees if they’re being rude to you

-You don’t even ask him to, but he subconsciously starts pushing you around himself whenever the two of you are out together

-“MC! Look at that new shop that’s just opened! Isn’t it adorable? We have to check it out!”

-He can’t help it! There’s so many places he wants to visit, he sort of just drags you with him wherever he goes

-Even at home, he always pops out of nowhere to coax you into coming to his room

-Y’all have so many skin routines to do each day

-Like he’s in your room most nights to greet you goodnight and tuck you in, with the rest of his brothers it gets so awkward at times

-Asmo just wants to see you smile, ok? He thinks you have a beautiful smile and laugh and he wants to remind you that you’re marvellous, disability or not

-And if anyone does anything to put an end to your self confidence, he will swiftly put an end to their life

-Please, he’s a pro at ruining lives, he’s been doing it for centuries

-Asmo has such a huge influence over the people in DevilDom, he just needs to make this one post on Devilgram to end said demon’s whole career

-I mean, who is he compared to him, Hmm? So don’t worry MC, scum like that don’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you :)

-That one time Mammon tried lifting you up the stairs and Asmo started shrieking, like put them down! Don’t manhandle them like that, poor human :(

Beel:

-I know I sound repetitive, but he would be an overall sweetheart to you no matter the circumstances

-If Mammon is not by your side, then Beel definitely is

-His big, scary aura and figure usually scares off any threat in a 10 mile radius

-Most demons don’t fancy being eaten by the Avatar of Gluttony, ya know?

-Idk why but I feel like he’d be the type to ask for oral consent every time he wanted to push you around

-He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable :(

-Surprisingly also the type to lift you and your wheelchair whenever an obstacle gets in your way

-You basically weigh the same amount as a paper plate compared to him, so he has no problem doing so

-He doesn’t really understand your condition as well as Satan may do, but he’s trying his best

-You mean so much to him and he feels it’s only fair he learns more about your disability as a thank you for what you’ve done for him

-He has a rough time keeping up with you when it comes to stuff like physical therapy because he’s very unfamiliar with it but that doesn’t mean he’s not gonna help

-Of course, Beel believes that this is the second best way to show you how much he cares for you besides the obvious ‘I love you’

-Giving you a hand whenever you need his support the most

-That’s his way of saying “I’m not going to let you down. I want you to trust me, the same way I trust you.”

-And knowing him, he will try to do everything in his power to keep you safe and sound

-After a while, you’re bound to notice he’s the first one to pull you out of his brothers’ pranks before you have a chance to get hurt

-Beel is always the one handing you stuff from high places you can’t reach, without teasing you for it like Mammon might do

-Always the first one to remind you to get plenty of rest and to eat enough

-He wants to protect you and his brothers because he knows he failed to do so with Lilith so yeah, he’s a bit overprotective at times

-He doesn’t mean to be overbearing, but he gets so anxious knowing you’re by yourself

-After a few months of getting accommodated with him, your disability is no longer brought up in the conversation

-Because he doesn’t care that you are crippled and forced to use a wheelchair

-You are part of his family and he loves you no matter what

Belphie:

-He didn’t really care, even when you first met and his hatred for humans was at its very peak

-It didn’t matter that you had a disability

-All that mattered to him at the time was killing you to satisfy that deeply rooted need of vengeance inside of him

-Though he was sort of surprised his brothers didn’t get to you first

-In general, he’s pretty chill about you being crippled in both legs

-It takes too much effort to worry about your well-being 24/7 after all

-Surprisingly, he does keep an eye out for you if his siblings aren’t nearby

-It’s his redemption arc people, he’s trying to be nicer

-But he has such an irritating way of showing his affection for you

-Do not let him push you around

-He’s either going to a) fall asleep after 30 seconds and slump over you in the middle of RAD’s halls

-Or b) be annoying and fling your wheelchair in every direction possible just to piss you off

-He likes messing with you because you give him the best reactions and he thrives on that

-You’ve almost fallen off your wheelchair multiple times because of this asshole

-Not that he’d actually let you fall, he just wants to see how easily he can get you to yell at him

-Speaking of said wheelchair, like Mammon and Levi, he also loves using it when you’re not

-You’ve woken up to him curled up and asleep in that thing quiet often and he’s gotten in trouble over it every time with Lucifer

-But he doesn’t care

-And at this point, I don’t think even he knows whether he’s doing it to get a reaction out of you or because he somehow found a way to make himself comfortable there

-He would low key use you as a mode of transportation every time you go to RAD

-Just clings the damn wheelchair and almost topples both of you over

-“Belphie, there’s nothing stopping you from walking 😐”

-“Shh, just bring me to class and let me nap until then.”

-He doesn’t mention your legs but he still lays his head on your lap often

-Might make you hold him like a bride every time you stroll around the house

-It’s done out of love, I promise 😌😌

———————————

Al~

[wingsofkpop]

Hiraeth - I.X: Was it Worth it in the End? Part Two

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

genre: Supernatual!AU, Dark Magic!AU, very heavy Angst, eventual Smut

warnings: Mature language, violence, explicit descriptions of fighting and injury, weapons, blood and gore, brief mention of a mutilated animal corpse, minor character death, description of trauma and mental illness, brief mention of suicide, mentions of murder, satanic themes and ritual, etc. 

Trigger Warning: This chapter does contain graphic and explicit themes regarding violence, trauma, and death. Please do not read if this will harm you. This is your final warning.

word count: 10,6k

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

chapter directory

The nighttime is hushed, almost anxious as Minho maneuvers his way past gravestones and overgrown shrubbery. It’s almost like nature itself is too afraid of accidentally provoking the witch, sensing the torpedo of dark magic and violent sorrow stirring through his veins. He peers up at the crimson moon, grateful for the illumination it provides, and continues down his path—ignorant of the cold air bleeding into his flesh. 

Minho knows this is probably not the best time for a visit, aware that his ex-covenmates are likely plotting some sort of mission to overthrow him, but he doesn’t care—he can’t care anymore. A part of him, the shameful, guilty part of his mind. actually hopes they will succeed, at least then, he would no longer have to endure the pain that comes with bearing this black magic. He can feel its poison rushing through his veins, seering his body from the inside out, killing his soul over and over and over again… 

But isn’t this what he wanted? Revenge? Retribution? Minho performed that spell to hurt the very friends that hurt him—to hurt Mark, and he got his wish… so why does it feel like the world is caving in around him, swallowing him whole? 

Once he reaches his destination, Minho collapses to his knees, unable to bear the weight of his burdens. His eyes burn with tears, but he doesn’t allow himself to cry. A silent gust of wind strokes his cheeks, painting his skin red with bitterness and anger. He welcomes the cold air, accepting the punishment, before lifting his hand to splay his fingers against the even colder surface of the headstone. 

“I’m sorry…” Minho whimpers, “It didn’t have to be like this…” 

The silence heightens his anguish—deepens the wounds in his heart. 

If he could take it all back, he would… but he can’t. 

“I wish you were here, noona…” 

His murmur is lost to the wind, but it doesn’t matter. He climbs back to his feet before sparing one final glance at the burial place of his lost friend. After a deep inhale and a wordless goodbye, Minho turns and hastily begins back toward the mausoleum. 

He was allowed this one moment of weakness—now he must get back to the horrible reality he manifested for himself. 

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“Can you be any more obvious…?” 

Mark quickly awakens from his mindless trance, discovering, to his dismay, Dahyun looking down at him with a single raised, all-knowing eyebrow. He fakes a cough into his elbow before shrugging his shoulders, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“You’re kidding me, right?... You literally haven’t taken your eyes off of her since we met up in the forest.” 

Heat immediately rises to Mark’s cheeks. As if on instinct, his eyes trail back to his subject of interest, watching as you wipe the sweat from Jaebeom’s girlfriend’s forehead and neck before shifting to do the same to Felix. It’s such a simple action, but you somehow look so ethereal—almost like an angel sent from heaven. 

He curses himself for his own cheesiness, then releases a defeated sigh. 

“We got into a pretty big fight earlier.” 

“Then don’t you think you should—I don’t know—talk to her instead of staring her down like a creep?” 

“I think the last thing she wants to do is talk to me.” Mark drags a hand through his hair. “I… said some really stupid shit in the heat of the moment. She probably hates me.” 

Dahyun scoffs, “God, you are such a fucking idiot.” 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“It means you need to get your ass over there and apologize to that girl.” 

Her harsh tone doesn’t falter beneath his glare, nor does her tenacious expression as the two proceed with their silent staring contest. After a minute or two, Dahyun breaks off the competition with a long, heavy sigh. Her eyes are soft when she looks back at him, and suddenly Mark finds the dried mud on his shoes a lot more interesting. 

“Mark, anyone can see how much you care about her—how much she cares about you.” Even when a gentle hand caresses his shoulder, the witch keeps his attention to the floor. “(Y/N) could never hate you—no matter how much stupid shit you pull.” She snickers, “And you pull a lot of stupid shit, so that has to account for something.”

He can’t help the amused chuckle that falls from his own lips. 

“Thanks, Dubu.” Mark says, tilting his head to finally meet the warmth of her gaze. 

“She’s a good one—a really good one, Mark.” The wolf hums, “Don’t let it be your fear that pushes her away.” She doesn’t give him a chance to reply further, pacing to a nearby corner to join a conversing Bang Chan and Yugyeom. 

Sparing the wolf trio one final glance, Mark musters up the remaining courage he has left and pushes from his perch against the kitchen countertop. He forces himself to walk in your direction—each step releasing more butterflies into the confines of his stomach. Once he reaches you, close enough to touch your turned back, he almost chickens out, content with spending the rest of the night watching you like hawk, but the sound of Felix’s breathy voice locks him in place: 

“—Channie-hyung and I have always wanted to go to Chicago… Is-Is it as windy as they say?” 

“Even windier.” You say with a laugh. “I can’t tell you how many scarves I lost, and don’t get me started on how freaking cold the winters are.”

Felix laughs too, although it resonates as more of a wheeze than anything. 

You shrug, “It’s a gorgeous city though—probably my most favorite place I’ve ever lived.” 

“Then why did you leave? If you loved it so much?” 

Mark’s interest piques when he notices how your figure grows tense at the young boy’s croak. He’s heard his fair share of stories of your heartfelt time in the Windy City, but he never quite figured out why you ultimately decided to move to Moon Dye Bay. You’ve always been reluctant to reveal certain details from your past, especially regarding your time in the foster system, but even then Mark has been able to pry the worst memories from your brain. 

This subject, however, has been a brick wall. 

“Because I couldn’t stay.” You finally answer, “It’s complicated, but something happened and basically I—” 

“(Y/N)?” 

He silently cusses as Felix interrupts your explanation, but his annoyance dissipates at the panicked expression etched along the teenager’s sweaty face. 

“What is it, Felix?” You shift your position on his bedside to better face the boy, leaning forward to place a gentle hand on his forehead. Mark can only imagine how hot the skin is to the touch. 

Felix’s words crack as they leave his lips, slicing at the witch’s heart like a dagger: 

“Am… Am I gonna die?”

“Of course not.” You immediately say, but Mark can sense the uneasiness in your tone. “Everyone is doing everything they can to help you, okay?... You’re gonna get through this, and one day you and your brother are gonna go see Chicago yourselves and try not to get blown away into the next century.” 

Felix sleepily chuckles, “Thanks, (Y/N).” 

“You should get some sleep.” The moment the command leaves your lips, Felix is already closing his eyes and diving headfirst into dreamland. Not wanting to startle you, Mark waits a couple seconds—partly to give you time to regain your composure, and partly to give himself time to think of what to say. However, he doesn’t have much of a choice when you suddenly turn, growing aware of his presence. A frown overtakes your face, and he instantly regrets ever leaving his countertop. 

“Did you need something?” 

“No—yes, I mean—shit.” Mark buries a hand in his tresses to tug at his roots, attempting to juggle between putting together the right spoken words and reminding his body to breathe. “(Y/N), I—” 

“If you came to apologize, I don’t want to hear it.” He helplessly watches as you rise from the bed before tossing your used rag on a nearby table. “I think you made yourself pretty clear back at my apartment.” 

“I shouldn’t have said what I said—” Before you can storm away, Mark latches his fingers around your wrist. “—please. Just give me a chance to explain.” 

Your shoulders rise and fall in a heavy sigh, but you make no move to tear away from his grip and he takes it as a chance to continue: 

“After my mom died, I was so fucking angry…” Mark notices your surprised gaze when you lift your head, but he doesn’t meet your eyes. “I was angry at the world, at her, at myself… and when my magic began to show up, things got a whole lot worse.” He shakes his head, “I thought about just ending it—jump into the bay or maybe drink myself to death—but then I met…” 

“Then you met Jackson.” 

“He taught me how to deal with the anger—to use it as a tool, not a weapon.” His eyes begin to burn at the countless memories that reel through his mind. “It was because of him I learned how to control my powers, and I was able to bring the coven together—hell, he was the one who told them to nominate me as Regent, which right now, seemed like the worst fucking decision on the planet.” 

Mark takes a moment to blink away his tears before taking a seat on an empty cot. He still can’t find it in himself to glance at your face, keeping his eyes trained to the wooden flooring. 

“But when Jackson had an idea, there was no stopping him.” He chuckles sarcastically, “The bastard was as stubborn as a goddamn mule.” 

“What happened to Jackson, Mark?” Your voice is both a sweet lullaby and a screeching siren against his ears. “How did he die? Really?” 

“The initial plan was to infuse enough magic into Jackson’s werewolf form so his venom would be lethal to the Primes, or at the very least, to Jinyoung. It all went smoothly in the beginning, I was able to channel enough power to complete the transformation… but something went wrong—

“—Jackson was different when he shifted. He was ruthless… He didn’t want to just kill the Primes—he wanted to slaughter every vampire along with those who protect the secrets of their existence… no matter if they were witch, werewolf, human—they all deserved to die…

“The combination of his determination and the bloodlust drove him fucking mad… If Jaebeom hadn’t ripped out his heart, there’s telling what he would have done—who he would have killed…” 

Mark leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, attempting to hide his shame beneath the curl of his bangs. “—Jaebeom may have dealt the final blow, but Jackson died because the dark magic I used turned him into a monster—he’s dead because of me…” 

Silence encompasses the room like a vice grip to the throat. For a moment, Mark believes you left him, too disgusted and ashamed to even breathe the same air as him, but the entrance of your worn boots into his vision proves otherwise. The image is replaced by your face when you kneel in front of his broken figure, laying your hands over each bicep. He notices your touch is gentle, but not hesitant, and warm—always so warm. 

“You can’t blame yourself for his death, Mark.” Mark doesn’t realize he’s crying until you wipe a tear from his cheek. “How could you have known what that spell would do? You couldn’t have—”

“Magic always comes with price—especially dark magic.” He whispers, unable to hold back more liquid sadness as it trails down his skin. “(Y/N), if I ever lost you the same way I lost Jackson, my mom, I—” 

Mark’s voice cuts out into a sob, and once your arms wind around his form, he completely breaks, releasing every ounce of repressed sadness and despair and pain into the crook of your neck. He knows he’s selfish for melting into your embrace—for consuming your comfort like a demon expelled from the heavens—but he doesn’t care. 

When you guide his eyes to meet your own, Mark can spot the glassiness of your own orbs in the artificial light—along with enough compassion and ardor to send another flood of tears down his face. 

“I’m not going anywhere, okay?” You affirm, your tone unwavering and stern. “I’m here—and no matter how many times you fall, I’m gonna be here to pick you up…

“I’m here, Mark… Do you understand me?” 

He nods with a sniffle, tightly squeezing your hands between his own. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You smile at his apology. 

“I’m sorry too… for everything.” 

“Just… No more secrets. For real, this time.” 

“For real, this time.” Mark’s heart rate picks up when he suddenly notices how close his face is to yours. From this angle, he can count the constellations glistening within your eyes and map the delicate curves of your facial features. If he were to lean just an inch closer, just one tiny inch, his lips would be on your own—

“Sorry to interrupt, but we have an issue.” At Yugyeom’s statement, you and Mark immediately wrench away from one another, almost as if having been caught engaging in forbidden territory. Mark pretends he doesn’t miss the weight of your hands inside his own as he rises from the cot, making sure to put an appropriate amount of distance between his and your shoulders. 

He clears his throat before humming, “What’s going on?” 

“Chan wants to go and find Chaeyoung’s body.” Although Yugyeom’s face remains neutral, Mark can see the sadness lingering within his eyes at the mention of his fallen packmate. “He doesn’t remember exactly where she was, so him, Dahyun, and I are going to search the forest.” 

You immediately shake your head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Sunrise isn’t for at least another hour, and we have no way of knowing Youngjae broke the curse yet.” 

“I’m with (Y/N) on this one, Gyeom.” Mark agrees, “We’re safest here in the bunker.” 

“We can’t just leave her out there. I mean, she—” Yugyeom cuts himself off with a heavy sigh, before continuing in a softer tone, “You know how it feels to lose someone, hyung… Chaeyoung is—was… our family.” 

Mark takes a moment of silence to ponder, conflicted between his common sense and Yugyeom’s pleading gaze. As you said, sunrise is an hour away—but Youngjae, the coven and the Primes should have overthrown Minho by now, right? Plus, he literally blew Changbin’s head off with that shotgun. There’s no way his body could regenerate that quickly… 

“We’re all staying together.” He finally says, moving toward the kitchenette to grab his weapon from its perch on the counter. “And if anything seems shady, it’s an immediate retreat.” 

Yugyeom delivers a nod before heading off to gather the other wolves. Mark moves toward the bunker exit, but is stopped by your form. A heavy sigh cascades from his lips—just from your expression, he knows this conversation isn’t going to go his way. 

“(Y/N)—” 

“If you’re gonna tell me I can’t go with you, don’t even bother.” 

He shakes his head, “It’s too dangerous…” 

“If someone tells me that one more goddamn time—” He can’t help the tiny smile that spreads across his face at the sassy way you roll your eyes. And he doesn’t protest when you move to follow Dahyun up the ladder. 

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Youngjae inhales a deep breath, taking the moment to feel his lungs expand, before releasing the air in an even deeper exhale. Even with the relaxation attempt, his body remains tense and his thoughts disorderly. He can’t help but feel as if Minho is waiting somewhere in the darkness of the crypt, ready to pounce on him like a predator to its prey. 

Would he toy with his catch first? Or would he skip the pleasantries and go right in for the kill? 

A hand appears on his shoulder, wrenching Youngjae from his morbid daydream. He angles his head to meet Lia’s concerned gaze and immediately tries to mask his fear beneath an expression of indifference. Unsurprisingly, the female witch sees right through his facade:

“I’ve known you practically my whole life, Youngjae. Whatever it is, you can’t hide it from me.” 

His shoulders sag in defeat as a sigh blows past his lips. 

“I’m just… worried about Mark-hyung. He’s powerless out there.”

“Mark is smart—he’ll know what to do if he finds himself in trouble.” 

“And if he doesn’t?... I-I mean, what if Minho or Changbin found him before he could warn the pack? He could be dead for all we know—” 

Lia silences his desperate quip with a shake of her head, “You shouldn’t think like that right now—” 

“What else am I supposed to do?” Youngjae runs a frustrated hand through his hair before gesturing toward the main exit of their underground penitentiary. “Even with yours and Jisung’s energy, I don’t have enough power to take down the barrier spell.” 

“Help is on the way—” 

“How do you know that for sure?” 

Lia remains silent, simply continuing to stare at Youngjae. He feels almost uncomfortable beneath her gaze, resisting the urge to shrink back and become one with the shadows. 

“I don’t know… but I have faith.” She murmurs after a brief moment. “We’ve lost a lot, but I still believe that we’ll all somehow manage to come out of this alive. You should try doing the same.” 

With that, Lia leaves to speak with a dangerously quiet Jisung. Youngjae spares the pair a single glance before heading toward the crypt entryway. A single beam of moonlight illuminates the exit stairway, almost as if mocking him about his inability to escape the dingy prison. 

Youngjae knows Lia is right—of course she’s right. Worrying about the possible pitfalls of this plan won’t help him, or Mark, or anyone. He can only pray that his mentor safely found his way out of the cemetery and is sending backup right this very moment. 

He needs to have hope, if nothing else. 

“What if we somehow lure Minho down here?” Youngjae’s thoughts quiet at Lia’s suggestion, angling his head to meet her gaze. “Technically Youngjae just needs to touch him to siphon his magic… so why don’t we bring him to us?” 

“Minho-hyung won’t step past the barrier.” Jisung dissents, dragging his fingers through his already tousled hair. “He probably knows we’re planning something against him, so there’s no way he’ll believe whatever ruse we try to pull.” 

“Then we have no choice. Youngjae, are you sure you can’t take down the spell?” 

Youngjae sullenly shakes his head. 

“Is there something else you can siphon? Maybe the crypt itself?” 

“The crypt was built by humans.” He answers, “I can only draw power from the supernatural—”

“Then it’s a good thing my dear brother and I weren’t turned into superwolf bait.” 

Youngjae, along with the other witches, nearly leaps a foot in the air at the sudden voice. He whirls around to face the stairwell, which to his surprise, is now occupied by the last person he ever expected to see: 

Im Jaebeom. 

Jisung chokes, scurrying backward into the shadows as the hybrid approaches the trio. After taking purchase against the doorway, he offers his signature sly smirk. 

“Evening, Harry Potter and friends… Funny meeting you down here.” 

“Now is not the time for games, hyung.” Youngjae breathes a sigh of relief as Jinyoung’s voice echoes throughout the stone walls. Seconds later, he comes hustling down the staircase before shoving Jaebeom out of the way. The vampire then peers into the crypt, his gaze burning with the determination of a man at war. “Is anyone hurt?” 

“No. We’re okay.” Lia steps forward. “If you’re here, I’m guessing Mark reached the wolf pack?” 

“Your guess is correct.” Jinyoung nods, placing a hand against the invisible doorway. “My brother and I will do everything we can to help disarm the rogue, but I think it’d be best to free you all first.” 

Youngjae joins the conversation. “I can take down the barrier spell, but I’ll need to draw energy from one of you to do so.” 

“Let’s do this quickly then.” Jinyoung goes to roll up the sleeve of his white shirt, but is halted by his immortal companion. Surprise filters through Youngjae’s veins as Jaebeom shrugs the leather jacket from his shoulders with a huff: 

“With my luck, he’ll drain you dry and I’ll have to deal with this voodoo fucker myself. I think it’s best we use my energy—sorry not sorry.” 

“Alright, then.” Youngjae hums, “I’ll need you to push through the barrier just enough that I can touch you… It’s gonna hurt. A lot.” 

“Good thing I’m a sadomasochist.” Jaebeom snickers at his brother’s unamused expression, “Too much?” 

“Move your hand through that goddamn barrier before I throw you to the superwolf myself.” 

The hybrid rolls his eyes, but follows Jinyoung’s instructions and proceeds to force his limb past the invisible blockade. He remains silent, but Youngjae can spy the uncomfortable twitch of his eyebrow and the tension along his stone-cold features. Blood begins to bud along his knuckles like a patch of blooming roses before flowing down his pale skin the more he presses against the barrier.

The siphoner raises his hand in preparation. “Just a bit more.” 

A mere couple seconds later, Youngjae feels Jaebeom’s bloody flesh brush against his own. The skin-to-skin contact is slight, but enough, allowing the hybrid’s energy to spread through his veins like wildfire. Youngjae almost cries in relief as the magic conquers his entire body—a new kind of hope sparking somewhere within his chest. 

“Phasmatos Siprum… Emnis Abortum…” Youngjae murmurs, positioning both hands against the invisible wall. He feels it crumbling beneath his fingertips, unable to withstand the power flowing through his figure. “Fasila Quisa Exilum San… Fasila Quisa Exilum San…”

A proud grin stretches along his features as the barrier buckles, then completely shatters. With Lia and Jisung in tow, Youngjae beelines out of the crypt and into the stairwell where Jaebeom, who’s cleaning the crimson from his knuckles, and Jinyoung reside. The latter nods, which Youngjae is quick to return. 

“‘Kay, they’re free… Now what?” 

“Now we find Minho and end this once and for all.” Lia answers, not sparing the hybrid a glance as she dashes up the stairs. Youngjae and the rest of the group try to keep up with the female witch as best as they can, not faltering until they reach the surface. The cemetery is quiet when they emerge from the crypt, Youngjae notices—almost too quiet. 

He takes a short moment to breathe in the fresh night air before turning to a tense Jinyoung, “I need to get close enough to siphon Minho’s magic to perform the counterspell. You think you and your brother can find me a way in?” 

Jinyoung nods. “You can count on us.” 

“Stay close…” Lia warns with a sigh, “I wouldn’t be surprised if the bastard already knows we’re free—” 

Lightning suddenly strikes a mere few feet from where Lia is standing, earning a chorus of screams and surprised gasps from the witch trio. Youngjae watches as Jinyoung speeds forward, grabbing Lia just in time to avoid being burnt to a crisp by a second bolt. With Jisung at his side, Youngjae quickly takes shelter underneath the overhang of a nearby tomb as even more lightning bombards the earth. He surveys the area, searching for the perpetrator responsible for the weather abnormalities. 

“Minho!...” Lia screeches from behind a large tree, her tone far less than friendly. “Quit being a fucking coward! Come out here and face us goddamnit!...” 

Youngjae huddles closer to Jisung as the wind suddenly picks up, ripping at his hair and clothing like a vengeful spirit. He moves to speak to his younger companion, but his words die on his tongue as the subject of the hour waltzes into view. The heavy gusts don’t seem to affect him, though that’s no surprise since the wretched weather is his doing. 

Minho smirks, “They say lightning never strikes one place twice… You must be really special then, Lia.” 

“Oh fuck off! We’re tired of playing your stupid games!” 

“This only ends one way, Minho—” Jinyoung says, cautiously moving from Lia’s side to approach the powerful witch. His steps, however, are halted by another vicious bolt of electricity. Youngjae attempts to make out Jaebeom’s form through the blurriness of his wind-induced tears, but the hybrid is nowhere to be found. “—so we can do it the easy way, or the hard way! The choice is yours!” 

“Last I checked, this isn’t your fight, Prime.”

“It became my fight the moment you threatened my family and my friends!” 

Minho snickers, “Trust me, I had every intention of ridding this town of you and your brother’s filth.” 

“Was it also your intention to kill an innocent werewolf girl!?” Youngjae’s heart drops at the vampire’s following statement. “Son Chaeyoung is dead because of Changbin—because of you!” 

“Every war has its casualties.” 

“And what of Felix!? Will his death just be another trivial loss in your obsession for revenge!?” 

This time, Youngjae notices the cockiness melt from Minho’s features into something akin to trepidation. The wailing of the wind picks up to a screech, nearly drowning out the dark-haired witch’s weak inquiry, “What are you talking about?”

“Felix was bitten… and is dying as we speak!” Jinyoung shakes his head frantically. “Do you believe he deserves this, Minho!? Do you believe Chaeyoung deserved to die!?... You can fix this—make this right!” 

Minho remains silent, and for a moment, Youngjae wonders if the witch will actually come to his senses and call off this whole ordeal. But just as soon as it appeared, the pained look along his features transitions into something more sinister.   

“We’re all gonna die someday, so what does it even fucking matter!?” 

“Are you hearing yourself!?” Lia screams from behind a nearby tree, “Look what you’ve become, Minho! How would Nayeon see you right now!” 

“Don’t bring her into this!” Minho’s hiss blends with the moans of the wind. Massive raindrops begin to pelt down against the earth, immediately soaking Youngjae to the bone. For the first time, he notices the dark witch’s position in relation to his own. Realistically, Youngjae can be at Minho’s side in mere milliseconds, before he has a chance to blink. If only he can get him to move a bit closer… 

As if reading his thoughts, Jinyoung attempts to coax the witch another step forward. 

“Please, Minho… I don’t wish to hurt you.”

The latter shakes his head with a chuckle. “It’s too fucking bad that you think you can.” 

Minho raises his hand, harshly forcing the vampire down against the muddy earth. Youngjae watches in horror as Jinyoung’s limbs begin to contort and rearrange against his own will—the sound of cracking bones and the vampire’s pained groans filling his ears like a haunting melody. He forces his gaze away from the gruesome sight and prepares to advance on the dark witch, but Jisung stops him with a hand to his shoulder: 

“Not yet, hyung.” 

“But Jinyoung—” 

“Trust me.” His eyes are wide with determination—Youngjae can’t remember a time he’s ever seen Jisung so fierce. “I have a plan. Wait here until my signal.” 

Though filled with confusion, Youngjae does as the young witch requests and stays in place while Jisung himself carefully maneuvers his way through gravestones and buildings, attempting to remain out of sight. A sudden burst of lightning cracks through the atmosphere, and at first, Youngjae fears Jisung has been caught, but quickly realizes Minho has his sights set on another party: 

“I was wondering when you’d join the fun—I looked forward to tearing your bitch-ass apart.” 

“I would say I’m flattered, but I rather like my ass.” Jaebeom saunters across a nearby rooftop. In the midst of the storm, he almost reminds Youngjae of a superhero—or more likely in his case, the psychotic supervillain. “Look, you’ve had your fun, kid. Now I suggest you release my brother and cut out all this petty-teenage bullshit before I break your body in places you never thought possible.” 

“That’s it?... And here I thought you’d want the antidote?” 

Jaebeom’s face darkens. 

“...So there is a cure?” 

“Of course. Every spell has its loophole.” Minho finally lowers his hand, ceasing the painful reconstruction of Jinyoung’s skeleton. Youngjae watches in confusion as the former retracts something from his pocket—some sort of vial, it seems—and offers it toward the hybrid. “The blood which Changbin drank to turn—it’ll heal anyone fallen victim to his bite.” 

“You better hand that over before I rip your teeth from your skull.” Jaebeom growls darkly, hopping down from his overhead perch.

The witch shakes his head, “Not so fast, Mr. Wolf… See, there was only so much left—enough to heal one lucky soul.” 

“You’re a sick fucking bastard,” Jaebeom spits. “You wanted this to happen—”

“Your little bloodsucking girlfriend is dying, isn’t she?” Minho tosses the vial toward the hybrid, who effortlessly catches it between two trembling fingers. “If you want to save her life, then I suggest you go before the venom does its job.” 

“Jaebeom-hyung, don’t—!” Jinyoung gasps, slithering across the muddy earth like an earthworm lost to the world. 

“You know she doesn’t have much time—” 

“We can’t do this without you—we need you!... I need you, hyung!”  

Jaebeom, staring at the tiny container in his grasp, doesn’t reply to his incapacitated companion. Youngjae curses the smirk that spreads across Minho’s face—a sign of victory—and attempts to spot Jisung and Lia somewhere between the ferocious raindrops. He has no such luck, and instead decides to pray for a miracle instead. 

“If you hadn’t fucked around with the few people I care about, I might have actually liked you.” Jaebeom murmurs with a sigh before tucking the vial into his pocket and sending the dark witch a malicious sneer. “Well isn’t that too fucking bad.” 

Youngjae leaps almost ten feet in the air as lightning strikes for what seems like the millionth time, although this time, it’s inches from where Minho is standing. After searching the area, Youngjae discovers Lia and Jisung across the way, hands clasped, eyes bright with passion, uttering some sort of offensive charm. Minho attempts to sprint in the opposite direction, but Jaebeom easily tackles the witch before he can get far. 

“Now Youngjae-hyung! Do it now!” 

At Jisung’s cue, Youngjae takes off into the rain. The bitter feel of Mother Nature’s tears against his skin quickens his movements, wanting nothing more then to end this hurricane, both literally and figuratively, once and for all. He reaches Minho in what seems like hours and hurries to grab his wrist—but just like the tides during a storm, the tables quickly turn. 

At the wave of Minho’s hand, Jaebeom goes flying across the cemetery, crashing into a stone statue and collapsing into the resulting rumble. White-hot pain spreads through Youngjae’s veins like a poison, freezing his muscles and immobilizing his limbs from any further movement. He collapses to the ground, where mud immediately clings to his clothing.

Minho rises to his feet before stepping on Youngjae’s hand with a cackle, “Don’t you fuckers get it!? I’m untouchable! You can’t fucking win!” 

“That’s where you’re wrong, Minho…” Youngjae chuckles, curling his fingers around the tread of the dark witch’s boot. Minho realizes his mistake as soon as the former’s hand begins to glow, foolishly attempting to squirm from his touch. 

Thunder roars in the distance as Youngjae grins in triumph: 

“Because unlike you… we’re not alone.” 

The last thing Youngjae sees before he loses consciousness is a flash of white and the bewildered face of the dark witch as he collapses beside him.   

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“I take it Mark apologized?...” You nearly leap out of your own skin at the sudden inquiry. With a less than agitated frown, you turn to acknowledge the culprit for your almost heart attack. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear some of these supernaturals have powers of teleportation or something… 

“Goddamnit, Dahyun. Not all of us have superwolf hearing.” 

“Sorry, dearie. Force of habit.” The she-wolf offers an apologetic smile, moving forward to hook her arm with your own. She allows Yugyeom, Chan and Mark to gain a bit of distance ahead before repeating again, “So Mark…?” 

“We both talked it out and apologized… so everything’s okay now.” You hum—the tiny fib leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. 

Truthfully, your encounter with Mark left you conflicted. Of course, you’re more than glad he finally opened up about his past, and even more glad that he trusts you enough to reveal his lingering feelings of trauma, but there’s still a pretty big fucking elephant in the room—one involving his dead best friend and the fact you can talk to him beyond the grave. 

You should have told him then and there—right after you promised to abolish all secrets—but something inside you couldn’t do it… and you don’t know why. 

“Why are you so interested in Mark and I’s relationship anyway?” You utilize your curiosity as a distraction from the guilt breathing down your neck, angling your neck to peer at Dahyun’s side profile. “Is there… history between you two?” 

“No, no—nothing like that. Mark and I have just known each other since we were kids. Our moms were close friends, so Mark, Yugyeom and I pretty much grew up together.” 

“He never told me that.” 

“Don’t take it personal, sweetheart. Mark doesn’t like to talk about his past—” Dahyun sighs, “—too many bad memories between his dad and the bullshit that happened with his mom. He’ll come around eventually… he just needs more time.” 

“I know his mom passed when he was a teenager, but Mark never actually mentioned how she died…” You bite your lip, sending a curious glance to your wolf companion. “It’s really not fair to ask you, but—” 

“Mark found her in their own kitchen with her entire throat ripped open.” Dahyun’s blunt answer leaves your throat dry, unable to speak another word if you wanted to. “The sheriff ruled it as an animal attack, but I’m sure you’re smart enough to figure out what really happened.” 

Your heart sinks, and you choose not to say anything further. 

“Dahyun! (Y/N)! Don’t get too far behind!” Chan’s voice echoes from somewhere up ahead. With the black of night beginning to fade, you can just make out his, Yugyeom, and Mark’s silhouettes a couple dozen feet away. Dahyun gives your forearm a gentle squeeze before releasing your conjoined limbs to catch up with her packmates. You do the same, meeting an armed Mark about halfway. 

His eyes glitter with concern underneath the fading starlight. 

“Everything okay…?” 

“Yeah, Dahyun and I were just catching up.” You inhale a deep breath before releasing it in an even heavier exhale. “But there is something I need to talk to you about—about Jackson and the whole resurrection thing.” 

Mark shakes his head, “You have every right to make your own decisions, (Y/N), but I wish you and Youngjae would have come to me.” 

“I know that, but it was more complicated than that—” You try to gather your thoughts while also attempting to make sense of your words. “I couldn’t tell you because, well—because Jackson told—” 

“Mark-hyung! We’ve got an issue!” Yugyeom’s warning immediately cuts off your explanation. Mark shoots you an apologetic glance before hurrying the two of you forward to join the wolf trio. It only takes seconds for you to distinguish the cause of the beta’s distress. 

A deer carcass lays precariously on the forest floor, and albeit it’s practically torn to shreds, you can just make out a single word carved into its bloody flesh: 

Die. 

“Shit—we need to go. Now.” 

“We’ve already come this far. Chae should be around here somewhere.” Chan ignores Mark’s directive, stepping over the animal corpse to traverse further through the forest. He barely takes a step before the witch is grabbing his wrist. “Let me go, hyung.” 

“Don’t be an idiot.” 

“Don’t tell me what to—”

“Shut the fuck up. Both of you.” Dahyun quietly hisses, “Listen.” 

You try to do as the she-wolf says, but all that meets your ears is the combination of your own labored breathing and uneven pulse. Judging by the confused expression along Mark’s face, he’s probably dealing with the same situation. 

“What is it?” 

“We’re being watched.” Yugyeom answers Mark’s inquiry in a whisper. “Mark, you and (Y/N) need to find somewhere to hide right now—Chan, Dubu, get ready to fight—”

As soon as the command leaves Yugyeom’s lips, Mark takes you by the arm and drags you behind a broad tree trunk. You fish Jinyoung’s pocket knife from your pocket while Mark cocks his shotgun in preparation. Who knew the day would come that you’d actually be grateful for the presence of two dangerous weapons…  

“If anything goes wrong—you run like hell, got it?” 

You shake your head at Mark’s demand. “I’m not just going to leave you—”  

“Yugyeom! Above you!” At Chan’s warning, you’re suddenly shoved to the ground by the witch, watching in horror as a deranged Changbin descends from the treetops onto the beta himself. His skin is a sickly ashen shade, and his black veins so prominent it would make a nurse weep. There’s no human emotion left inside his dark eyes as he strikes Yugyeom over and over again with his lengthy sharp talons, tearing open his skin like a birthday present—he’s a complete animal. 

“Bin, stop!” Chan throws his arms around Changbin’s shoulders in an attempt to pull him from Yugyeom, winding a tight arm around his throat before thrusting a knee against his spine. “Think about what you’re doing!” 

With Dahyun’s assistance, the two wolves manage to separate the dark wolf from that of Yugyeom’s wounded self. Even so, Changbin clearly does not appreciate being stolen away from his prey. He easily escapes from Chan’s hold, landing a couple heavy hits against the latter’s nose before shoving him to the ground. Dahyun takes the moment to strike, bringing the dark wolf to kneel with a harsh kick to his knee, but the action does minimal damage. Changbin punts the she-wolf a dozen feet away as if she weighs nothing. You wince as Dahyun connects with a nearby tree trunk with a vocal thud before dropping to the ground with no movements of rejoining the fight. 

“Shit…” You curse to yourself, “They won’t be able to take him down by themselves—he’s too fucking strong.” 

“Watch your ears.”  You notice Mark aiming his gun toward the dark wolf, waiting for an opportunity with his finger on the trigger. At his discretion, you cover your ears just in time for him to fire a first and second shot. A ferocious growl echoes through the trees, spreading goosebumps across your flesh like wildfire. 

You watch both Chan and Yugyeom take advantage of Changbin’s distraction. The alpha delivers a swift, yet heavy hit against his wounded shoulder while the beta goes for his legs. Similar to Dahyun, they manage to pin Changbin to the forest floor. For a moment, you almost believe the fight has concluded in your team’s favor—but the tides shift. In the blink of an eye, Chan is impaled with a large jagged branch and sent tumbling into some foliage whereas Yugyeom is dealt punch after strike after kick, unable to escape the barrage of Changbin’s wrath. He eventually, like the former two, collapses to the earth and makes no move to rise. 

Changbin cracks his neck before stalking toward where you and your companion stand. 

“Mark—” 

“I got it!” Mark quickly feeds another couple shells into the shotgun barrel, cocks the weapon, then aims down sight. He manages to sink a bullet into your target’s abdomen, followed by another in his bicep, but Changbin merely releases an annoyed snarl and continues charging forward. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—(Y/N), move!” You leap out of the way just in time to avoid a powerful strike. Changbin’s hand splinters the trunk of the tree, sending pieces of bark in every direction. A particular shard catches the bridge of your nose, causing blood to warmly cascade down your skin. You quickly wipe the liquid from your right eye, ignoring the nausea fluttering inside your gut, before focusing back on the situation at hand. 

You look up in time to watch Mark swing his shotgun harshly against Changbin’s skull. Taking advantage of his disorientation, you rush forward to stab your pocket knife into the wolf’s back. Changbin practically roars in fury, angling backward to land a hit to your face before you have time to react. The force of his strike throws you to the ground, a sharp pain lingering in your left cheek. 

“Don’t fucking touch her!” Mark throws himself against Changbin, delivering hit after hit to anything and anywhere. Still, Mark’s human strength does little to outbeat the dark wolf, and you watch in horror as Changbin effortlessly pins the witch against his chest with a bloody hand around his throat.  You desperately search for something, anything, in hopes of saving Mark from whatever deadly fate awaits Changbin’s bloodlust, but fate doesn’t seem to be on your side.

“Changbin—please don’t do this!” You cry, praying to some type of deity that the wolf is sane enough to understand your words. Even so, your confidence is low, seeing as talking clearly had no effect during your last encounter, but you’re fresh out of options at this point. “You know this isn’t who you are!” 

To your surprise, Changbin actually answers, “You don’t know anything about me.” 

“Maybe not, but I know you don’t actually want to hurt anyone…” You cautiously rise to your feet with a shake of your head, wary of the tight hold Changbin currently has on Mark’s jugular. “Your thoughts are all sorts of fucked up right now because of the dark magic, so why don’t you just let Mark go and we can—” 

“Don’t you fucking get it! This fucker—” He yanks at Mark with more force than necessary, “—took everything from me! He took my pack, my alpha—the only people I ever felt safe with!” 

“I understand you—” 

“No, you don’t!” Changbin wails, “You can’t even imagine how I feel! How fucking hard it is to wake up in a world you know you’ll never belong! How much it fucking hurts just to go on and pretend like everything’s normal when it’s fucking not!” 

“Tell him it’s okay to feel angry—” You whirl your head around to find a seemingly exhausted, yet wild-eyed Jackson Wang at your side. “—but none of this was Mark’s fault.” 

You’re mortified at first, having never encountered the ghost anywhere outside your bedroom—but whether it’s the desperation etched along his features, or the flush of purple that overtakes Mark’s complexion—you quickly transfer back to reality: 

“Changbin, it’s perfectly normal to feel angry and cheated, but this wasn’t Mark’s fault—deep down, I think you know that.”

“What does it fucking matter anymore? I’m all alone anyways.” The pure agony etched along his face has your heart splitting in two. 

You’ve never seen a creature so strong and so powerful look so… vulnerable. 

“You said the exact same thing to me when we first met…” Jackson murmurs softly.

“You told Jackson you were alone at one point too…” 

An obvious wave of tense silence washes through the forest, making the beat of your heart that much more prominent in your ears. 

Changbin’s whisper is dark—dangerous. “How the fuck do you know that?” 

“Because… Because he’s here, Changbin.” You say, your eyes meeting Mark’s as the words leave your tongue. “You’re not alone because Jackson is still here.” 

You don’t know what kind of reaction you expected from your revelation, but it certainly is not the heinous laughter that spills from the dark wolf’s lips. 

“You must have lost your goddamn mind… Jackson-hyung is dead!” 

“Maybe physically, but his spirit still remains.” 

“You mean—” You turn to discover a bewildered Yugyeom unsteadily leaning against a tree, “—his… ghost? You—You can see his ghost?” 

You nod.   

Changbin sneers with a low growl. “I don’t fucking believe you.” 

“There’s a cliffside back along the bay about twenty miles from the lodge,” Jackson begins, his tone a blend of nostalgic and sorrowful. “Changbin and I used to go there to watch the full moon rise before we turned into our wolf forms… I-I’ve missed that so much…” 

“You and Jackson would always watch the full moon rise on a cliff overlooking the bay before you transitioned,” You repeat. “He says he misses those moments with you…”

“Stop it!” Changbin frantically shakes his head, “You’re lying!” 

“He’s here, Changbin… He’s really here.” You move forward again, more confidently this time, and raise your hands in a sympathetic gesture. “And the last thing he wants is for you to make the same mistakes he did, so please—let Mark go and let us help you…” 

It’s as if time freezes for a moment. Changbin seems to fight a battle with himself—countless emotions rushing through his teary eyes. You watch the dark wolf glance toward an unconscious Dahyun and Chan, then to a silent Yugyeom, before finally setting his focus back to you. You can only pray your face reflects the hope swirling throughout your veins—pray that Changbin will do the right thing. 

To your delight, the blackness of his veins gradually begin to fade and the sharp claws protruding from his fingertips recede. You don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until Changbin finally retracts his hold from Mark’s neck. You’re quick to take the unsteady witch in your own arms before sending the now normal wolf a thankful smile. 

“Thank you, Changbin…” 

He nods shyly before wiping a couple tears from his cheeks. You watch as Yugyeom cautiously makes his way toward the younger boy, murmurs something, then tugs the latter into a tight embrace that pulls even more liquid sadness from his eyes. The sight has your heart melting into a puddle of warmth—the emotion doesn’t last though, not when Mark’s dark croak enters your ears:

“You… can see Jackson…” 

You shrug sheepishly, “I wanted to tell you, but he said not to… He didn’t want to hurt you anymore than he already had.” 

Mark remains silent. You try to search for his features for some kind of anger or disappointment, but are only awarded with his surface level blank stare. Worry flooding through your veins, you look to Jackson for any possible guidance, but the ghost merely shakes his head. 

After a couple tense seconds or so, Mark finally murmurs, “Jack… I—I’m so sorry. For everything.” 

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Jackson says immediately, “If only I had listened to you, then maybe things would have played out different.” 

“He says it wasn’t your fault—he should have listened to you.”

“We both made some pretty shitty mistakes.” Mark hums, “I miss you, man. So fucking much.” 

You don’t wait for Jackson to reply, already knowing his answer. 

“He misses you too, Mark. Just as much.”

“How is this even possible…?” You and Mark turn to find the shocked gaze of Yugyeom, who is closely followed by the despair of that belonging to Changbin. “Supernaturals can’t even see spirits, much less mortals…” 

“We never exactly figured that out. Jackson said he felt drawn to me from the Other Side—he kind of just showed up in my bedroom the night after Mina and Momo died.” 

“Any contact with the dead usually requires some sort of spell or medium.” Mark bites his lip in confusion. “I’ve never seen anything like this before, not even in any of my mother’s grimoires—”

“Jackson!” Your body grows rigid as Jackson suddenly collapses to the ground with a pained groan. You hurry forward, kneeling next to the man, and reach for his shoulder. The realization of his phantom existence hits you like a bag of bricks when your fingers phase through his form. You settle for calling his name again instead, “Jackson—what’s wrong?” 

“What the hell is going on?” You hear Changbin stress from somewhere behind you, but your focus is completely on the ghost in question. 

Jackson lifts his head with a gasp, revealing a line of blood dripping from his nose. “I-It’s the witches!... They know about our plans—they’re trying to force me back to the Other Side—”

“(Y/N)?” 

You shake your head feverishly, “It’s, uh, it’s the witches on the Other Side—they don’t like Jackson crossing over, so they’re trying to bring him back…” 

Mark nods. “Witches, dead or alive, will do anything to maintain the balance of nature.” 

“(Y/N)—shit—I don’t have a lot of time—” Your chest tightens at the urgency behind Jackson’s words. “I know so much just went down, but—” 

“Don’t worry, Jack. I won’t let you disappear again.” You affirm before climbing to your feet to face your new subject of interest. “Mark—I need you to perform the resurrection spell.” 

“Woah, wait—” Mark shakes his head, “(Y/N), I can’ t—” 

“If we don’t resurrect him now, then Jackson is gone forever!” Your warning spreads a new tension across the atmosphere, manifesting in the form of sullen and panicked expressions. “Please, Mark—we have a chance to bring him back!” 

“I can’t do the spell because I don’t have any magic…” Your heart sinks at Mark’s revelation. “Minho absorbed all my magical energy back at the graveyard… I’m so sorry, Jackson…” 

“Hold on, you told me that there’s different types of magic…” You push, “Can’t you draw energy from something? Like the forest, or the moon, or, or—”

“Or me.” You turn, discovering the speaker of the response to be none other than a determined Changbin. “Minho-hyung’s spell may be gone, but I can still feel the magical energy lingering through my body.” 

Mark hesitates, “I-I don’t know if it will work… and if something goes wrong—” 

“Do you want Jackson-hyung back or not?...” 

A moment of silence passes after Changbin’s question. You keep an eye on a repeatedly wincing Jackson, and the other on the witch’s face, attempting to decipher his thoughts inside the glow of his gaze. For a moment, you wonder if Mark will even provide an answer, until the words finally leave his lips: 

“Fuck the balance of nature. I’ll bring you back, Jackson—I promise.” 

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Jinyoung stares at the sun as it gradually rises past the horizon, bathing his skin in a warm, celebratory light. His gaze wavers across the cemetery to the notorious mausoleum, where he watches Lia and Jisung carefully assist a barely conscious Youngjae past the doorway. After this crazy night, the siphoner definitely deserves a good, long rest. Then again, so does everyone else. 

He releases a heavy sigh before shifting away from the witch trio. After sparing one final glance to the sunrise, Jinyoung allows his feet to carry him through the early morning glow, past countless tombstones and other structures, and settles beside a second figure in front of a particular burial site. He silently reads the engravings along the headstone before addressing his companion without so much as a glimpse: 

“I assumed you would be halfway back to the bunker by now.” 

Jaebeom doesn’t respond, not that Jinyoung really expects him to. He peers at the hybrid through the corner of his eye, attempting to seek meaning beyond his blank features. Centuries later, Jinyoung still can’t predict the workings of Jaebeom’s inner thoughts. Especially when it comes to the situation at hand. 

“Mark called. Changbin is no longer affected by Minho’s spell.” He explains, “They’re also preparing a ritual to resurrect Jackson Wang—” 

“Tzuyu…?” 

Jinyoung’s chest tightens as the name falls from Jaebeom’s lips. 

“Their youngest, Ryujin, is looking after both her and Felix.”

“So she’s still alive…?” 

“It seems so.” 

A brief moment of silence passes between the pair. The earth grows brighter and brighter as the seconds roll by, reminding Jinyoung that time is a friend to no one. 

“Hyung, did you… truly switch off your humanity?” 

“I did, at first.” Jaebeom’s answer is quiet, and Jinyoung can detect the subtle hint of vulnerability hidden beneath his gruff tone. “But I guess I can never completely turn it off.” 

“It’s alright to feel, hyung—be it anger… or passion… or fear…” 

Jinyoung notices Jaebeom shift uncomfortably before glancing down at the glass vial in the palm of his hand. For once, he can actually distinguish the emotions present within the hybrid’s dark eyes. The knowledge only jabs at his heart. 

“Everything is taken care of, right?” 

“The night has ended, and Minho is safely sealed away in the crypt.” Jinyoung nods, “We live to see another day.”

He watches his companion tuck the precious vial into the pocket of his jeans before turning away from the headstone. Jinyoung is not sure where the urge comes from, but he abandons his perch, grabbing Jaebeom’s shoulder before he can leave the cemetery. He ignores the hybrid’s confused expression and pulls him into a tight embrace. 

“Thank you for staying, hyung…” Jinyoung’s murmur is slightly muffled against the fabric of his jacket, but he knows his companion heard them loud and clear. 

Jaebeom hesitates for a moment, clearly taken aback by the sudden act, but eventually winds his arms loosely around Jinyoung’s back with a gentle murmur of his own:

“You will always be my family, Jinyoung… Always and forever…”  

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“I’ve never used magic like this before, so I can’t promise this will work.” Mark glances to where he assumes Jackson’s spirit is located inside the white circle makeshifted out of a bag of flour Dahyun managed to find in a bunker cabinet, before glancing to the companion at his side. “You sure you’re up for this? It’ll feel like I’m literally sucking the life force out of your body…” 

Changbin nods, “If it means bringing Jackson-hyung back.” 

“Okay, then.” Mark turns to the surrounding crowd next, “In order to do this, I’ll need to lower the veil to the Other Side. This will create a temporary door that Jackson can pass through to physically enter our realm. Once he crosses over, he should become mortal again.” 

“Seems easy enough.” Dahyun snickers, although the sound is dry and forced. “Anything else we need to know?” 

“Whatever happens, do not enter the circle.” His eyes drift from the she-wolf to your silent form. As if sensing the scrutiny, your gaze connects with his own, and knowing he has your attention, Mark continues in a darker tone, “Just as spirits can pass into our realm, we can cross to the Other Side… so for the love of god, don’t do anything stupid.”

Your and Mark’s staring contest ceases when your head snapes toward the circle. Seconds later, you break the tense silence with a soft murmur, “Jackson says it’s getting worse. He can feel the witches trying to drag him back.” 

“Then I guess that’s our cue.” He sighs before nodding toward the circle one last time, “I’m gonna do my best, Jack. Just hold on.” 

With one final glance to the grimoire you gave him earlier, Mark inhales a deep breath and takes Changbin’s outstretched hand into his own. He closes his eyes, focusing every part of his brain on the electrifying sensation of the magical energy coursing through the wolf’s body. Bit by bit, he feels Changbin’s power bleeding into his own veins, awakening the slumbering supernatural nature of his soul. Once he’s sure enough he’s acquired enough magic, Mark opens his eyes and begins the incantation: 

“Vita mortem, mortem vita est… Partis inferioris velum, partis inferioris ante illum vetum…” Almost instantly, the wind picks up while the air grows uncomfortably cold. He ignores the violent shivers wracking through his limbs and proceeds to repeat the words as the temperature continues to drop. With each spoken syllable, Mark’s head becomes dizzy and his flesh feels as if it’s being scorched off, but he continues. 

No amount of pain could ever dull the hope of seeing his best friend alive once more.

“Holy shit—it’s actually working!” 

Mark doesn’t realize he had shut his eyes until he opens them, nearly yelping in delight when he discovers the image of said friend standing in the center of the white circle. Jackson looks no different than the day he last saw him, and he can’t decide if he wants to laugh out of irony or burst into tears. 

“The veil is down! I’m gonna start the spell to cross you over!” Mark yells over the howling of the wind, clutching Changbin’s hand tighter as he transitions to the next phase of the spell. “Ohto eestanay as vazat esvet ohnaz eespalit… Ohto eestanay as vazat esvet—fuck!” 

A brutal force comes down against his head, almost resembling that of a punch, before spreading hot fire down his neck and to the rest of his body. Mark doubles over with a wheeze, attempting to fight against the painful sensations by grounding himself in Changbin’s touch. However, as soon as the first wave concludes, a second, even more excruciating one follows. He feels as if someone is trying to crush his brain—to kill him from the inside out. 

“Mark-hyung! What’s wrong!?” 

“It’s the witches!...” Mark is thankful that Jackson answers Yugyeom’s panicked inquiry, “They’re trying to break the spell!” 

“Like… hell they will…” Mark hisses, righting himself with a pained groan before grabbing Changbin’s other hand. “I’m not going down without a fight—hold on!...” 

He jumps back into the spell, weakening the manipulated pain through the absorption of more of the wolf’s energy. Borderline high off the power, he pushes everything he has into the ritual, determined to see it through to the end. After a minute that passes like a decade, Mark detects a shift in the atmosphere, indicating the near completion of the spell, and shouts: 

“Jackson—get out of the circle! Get out now!” 

As if in slow motion, Mark watches Jackson quickly move to escape the white border. But just as soon as his toe brushes the edge, he is wrenched away and lifted from the ground. 

Dahyun cries, “What the hell is happening!?”

“They won’t let me cross over!” Jackson squirms and writhes, attempting to escape whatever invisible grip is holding him hostage. His efforts are futile, and he continues to rise higher and higher off of the ground. 

“Hang on, Jack!” Mark releases Changbin’s hands and raises his own palms in Jackson’s direction. However, the same torturous pain from before returns once more, hitting his nerves like a sledgehammer to a brick wall, and throws him to the earth. “Shit—no! H-He has to pass through the circle!” 

“(Y/N)! Don’t!” 

Mark raises his gaze at Dahyun’s shriek, only to watch in horror as you rush past the flour boundary and grab hold of Jackson’s hand. A blinding light immediately erupts from your clasped palms, expanding through the area until all Mark can see is white. 

After a long moment, his vision eventually returns, and he finds the forest completely silent. The temperature is no longer frigid, he notices, and the strain within his brain is gone. For a moment, Mark is filled with prowess, victorious at the fact he successfully carried out an ancient resurrection ritual, however, his triumph is temporary, especially when he notices your form laid motionless in Dahyun’s arms. 

“(Y/N)—fuck!” Mark hurries to where you lay, stealing your figure from the she-wolf to cradle you in his own hold. “Shit, shit, shit—she’s not breathing! Fucking goddamnit!” 

His panic only grows tenfold when he hears the murmur cascade from Dahyun’s lips: 

“Mark… where’s Jackson?”

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Jaebeom scales the final rung of the ladder before making his way toward the corner where the snoozing trio resides. He moves cautiously, mindful not to awaken the young werewolf caretaker, yet eventually finds himself perched on the edge of a familiar cot. His heart thunders inside his chest, and he cannot tell if it’s out of anxiety or hope. Though at this moment, Jaebeom can really care less to find out. 

“It’s about time you showed up…” He winces at the broken husk of his companion’s voice, attempting to keep his expression as neutral as possible. “I thought you were actually going to leave me to die in the hands of a neurotic teenage wolf…” 

Jaebeom doesn’t respond to her quip—he can’t find it in himself to do so. 

Tzuyu raises an eyebrow, “What’s with the face? Did you take down the witch or not?” 

“We did.” He hums, “The spell is broken.”

“Good thing—” The vampire pauses to cough, and the sound is like broken glass against his ears. “—you and your brother are safe for the eternity to come.” 

“Tzuyu… I found the cure.” 

“What are you waiting for then? My consent?” She snickers playfully, “We fuck for over a century and this is the most gentlemanly behavior I’ve ever seen from you, Beomie.”

Again, Jaebeom remains silent. 

Recognizing the obvious tension in the room, Tzuyu’s face falls. “But… I guess it’s more complicated than that, hm?” 

“There’s only enough for…” He’s unable to finish his sentence, not when his companion’s eyes are gazing at him with such sullenness and sympathy. Jaebeom has to look away for a moment, though the action does little to relieve the tightness of his chest. 

“Ah, I see.” Tzuyu hums, glancing across the way to a slumbering Felix. Her pale lips twitch, as if attempting to upturn to a smile, but it instead appears as a weak grimace. “You know, I really never meant to hurt (Y/N)… or you.” 

“Tzuyu—”

“I’ve known you for decades… but I’ve never seen you look at someone the way you look at her.” Another violent cough wracks through her body, expelling a mass of dark blood past her lips. Jaebeom is quick to wipe the splotch from her skin with the blanket, trying not to dwell on the fact that her skin is ice cold. “I’ll admit, I was jealous at first… I’ve always wanted someone to look at me like that… 

“I know you’re afraid to care—to love, Jaebeom.” Tzuyu murmurs sadly, lifting a hand to rest against the hybrid’s cheek. “Especially someone like (Y/N)… and you’re right to. She’s too good… too human. 

“One misstep and you could lose her forever.” 

“I want to be selfish…” Jaebeom whispers, “I want to be selfish so fucking bad—”

“But you can’t be, Beom. Not with her.” 

“Then let me be selfish with you.” 

Tzuyu smiles. 

“I’ve lived over three lifetimes, and he is barely a ways into his one—so you’re going to give the cure to that damn kid, Im Jaebeom.” He leans further into her touch as she caresses the apple of his cheek. “Promise me that you’ll stay away from her—to keep her safe?”

He nods.

“Good… Can you hold me for a moment? I’m cold.” 

“I’ll hold you as long as you want me to.” 

And so Jaebeom takes Tzuyu into his arms. However, it’s not until the vampire grows still does he allow a single tear to cascade from his eye, staining the bloodied bed sheets with the agony of a heart that has been broken too many times to count.

[shadowturtlesstuff]

caged

a nessain fic for @fangirling-again

The world is spinning, spiralling out of my reach. I am locked in a cage that I can never escape from. I stare blankly out of the window, one hand grasping a nearly empty bottle of whiskey and the other on the arm of my chair shaking. I have not moved all day. I haven't been able to. My mind keeps replaying images of every mistake I have ever made; which there are many to choose from so I am never left with a blank mind. My eyes are dry as I have no tears left to spill. Many people hate me but no one can have as much hate for me as I do. It lurks in the pit of my gut and waits to strike as soon as I feel anything but remorse. My days are an endless cycle. Soon when night starts to replace the day I shall pry myself from my chair, change into something else and leave to go to the bar. I will let some man have their way with me as an attempt to feel something. It never works. Then I go home and drink myself to sleep. I am stuck in a hate loop that I have no intention of ever escaping. I deserve it all. 

My eyes sting as I glance at the mirror. I have bruises on my arms and legs from the roughness I allow men to have. My eyes are surrounded by black and purple and many of my bones are on full display. I feel worse than I did when we were all still human. I look worse. At least then feyre was able to look after me. She's tried to help me but I will not let her; I will not be her burdan once more. I want her to live a happy life; it's more than she deserves. And my sweet Elain; I have no idea how she's coping but I'm too afraid to face her. If I go near her I'm sure her recovery will go back to square one. I only make things worse for the people i love. So now I'm letting them live their lives without the burden of my presence. 

I put on a long worn out dress and collect a bag of coins. I take one more resentful look at myself before leaving. Cassain hasn't stopped by my house all week. Normally he tries, and fails, to talk to me. He is what I am most afraid of. He has been affectionate towards me, I saved him during the war. I care for him more than I should, he cares for me more than I deserve. I want him to stop;to find someone better and stop wasting his life on me. I hate the pity he holds for me. I hate that I want him to hold me. I shouldn't; I can't let him love me. I'll ruin him like I ruined my sisters.

I walk slowly to the bar. This is the part of the night I hate the most. The walk towards it; i know what will happen to me tonight, i know what i'll let happen. I blink back a tear. I will not cry over what I choose to do. I round the corner and see that the bar is already nearly full of drunken men. 

‘Nesta!’ I hear someone call. Not someone; cassian. I curse under my breath and brace myself. I turn and see him running towards me, his hair falling out of his bun and a concerned look on his face.I shove my hands deep into my pockets to hide the shaking of them.

‘What do you want?’ I snap as he stops in front of me. I desperately want to hug him, for him to hold me and tell me it will all be okay. I want to see his smile. 

‘Please listen. Go home nesta, don't go into that bar again.’ he pleads with me.

‘Why? So you can have an ego boost for protecting me? I think not.’ 

I swallow the bile rising and pretend that I don't need to throw up.

‘No nes, I just want to help you. Not for me or my ego but because you're hurting and it has been left for too long.’

‘Go home. I don't deserve your help.’ I tell him and go to turn towards the bar. He takes my hand and stops me, making me face him. His hands spread warmth throughout me and I now only realize how cold it is outside. He has the same dark bruises marrying his eyes that i have, as well as actual bruises along his cheekbone. His brown eyes never leave me, trying desperately to find something I can never give him.

‘No one deserves to hurt like this.’ he takes my other hand and im prey to his touch. I beg to all the gods to not let this moment end. It has been too long since someone looked at me so genuinely. It has been so long since someone held me as if I meant something. I let him hold me for one more second before I pushed off him. I can't let him. I cant hurt him any more than i already have. 

‘I can think of plenty of people who do, myself included.’ I tell him and try desperately to break the cage I hold myself hostage in. I understand that if I let one person in it could all be better. Or it could at least hurt less. However I don't want that. I don't deserve it so i cannot let Cassian think he can. I blink back the tears and hold my chin higher trying to prove my comment. I see his eyes falter, his face fall into that look that makes my skin crawl. I hate him. I hate the pity. I am now a powerful fae I should not be looked at as though I'm about to break .

‘Why do you think you deserve all this pain, nes?’

‘Because i am a horrible person. I deserve to be alone. I am alone.’ I gave him a pointed look to tell him to stop. He doesn't listen.

‘No nes. No. please just hear me out before you walk away. You have been through hell and back and you're only 19. You have been dragged into a world you were taught to fear, you watch your sister be happy with her mate, and it hurts, I know you are hurting. I don't blame you for wanting to hurt yourself, but I don't want you either. I, nesta please. Come home with me tonight. Just stay in a warm place and eat something please.’ this time the tears fall and I cannot blink them away fast enough. I desperately want to go with him. To plead for help. How can i? How can I face my sisters and everyone else? How can I be happy when people have been harmed because of me. I'm a monster and monsters never get saved. 

‘I. i can’t. I'm so sorry.’ I whisper and begin walking away.

tags;

@yafa-towers @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @mis-lil-red @sleeping-and-books @just-antisha @ithoughtthiswastwitterbutfr @rowaelinforeverworld @thefandomhighqueen @gloriouspalacebakerylawyer @westofmoon @illyrianwitchling13

let me know if you do or dont want to be tagged in my work

[cirilee]

i just found a text my browser had saved on a word count website, and i apparently typed it last november while being sad - i just wanna have a place to post it, and it explains why i was gone for most of may through november last year.

if you’re interested, u can read, it’s basically just a long long long vent and i wanna save it somewhere :’)

(and if you wanna, you can tell me what u think of the whole thing, maybe share if something like that happened to you too, because man, this whole thing was WEIRD for me)

bottom line is: i’m much better now and have way better friends then back then and in general, i’m a pretty happy person again^^

My parents and me had been fighting a lot the past years. I still love them. For a while though, it was just shouting matches between us. We weren't really speaking to each other throughout january 2019 until april 2019, so i wasn't informed by them that they were planning to mOVE OUT. And the place they wanted to move to only had enough space for 2 people. now my brother and me had 3 months total to find and finance our own flats. i was desperate. 2 months i unsuccessfully searched for a job or a flat or a way to make a deposit for said flat, without any saved up money. an old school friend offered to move out together. i only saw him once every month for group activities. he was nice, but we also had a bit of a history. 3 years ago he had acted kinda scummy and tried to get me to be his girlfriend because "he couldnt find anybody else” - ending in a "movie night with friends" that turned out to be a trap, where the only one spending the night was me because he only invited me. creepy. he apologized and i forgave him and we were chill and it was normal between us. i realize now, that i should have just left him out of my life at that point. but time was running out, so i gave in and asked myself "whats the worst he could do. i’ve known this person for 12 years and the he's part of my friend group" we set up basic rules, how we would pay for stuff, etc. .. we moved in. it seemed fine. then i noticed that he talked A LOT. and he wanted A LOT of attention. after a day of working on my diploma or working at my job, he would assert himself in my room and try to engage in smalltalk. i am not the hermit type. i engaged with him, i joined in on his conversation. but when i was already tired he wouldn't accept "i'm gonna go to sleep". there was always something else he needed to talk about. I was trying to make clear to him that i needed alone time too, but no matter how honest i was, the message either didn't seem to stick, or he'd get upset and start asking me if i hated him. With that, i could have kept up with in the long run. Then he started knocking on my door. even when it was already late and i already told him i was gonna go to sleep. Repeatedly knocking on my door. At some point he just opened the door. It was 1am. I pretended to sleep. I could hear him breathing, it sounded angry. He eventually closed the door. The next morning i confronted him. He argued it away as him trying to warn me that he was going to take a shower, so that i wouldn't use the bathroom. He started commenting on how i wasn't funny enough around him. in that friend group, i'm the funny one :c. but i cant keep up that energy 24/7 (this was supposed to be a home, not a free neverending standup act, for this one guy). that confused him. the next day he asked me if i had depression. My parents had given me a griller/toaster as a parting gift (there’s a backstory for that too but anyways) my flatmate ALSO had that same toaster. He demanded we make up our minds which one to keep. i didn't understand why this was important to him and i hated discussing this useless topic with him so i stored the toaster in my room. He repeatedly suggested i throw mine away (?). One evening i got hungry and decided i'd make myself a toast in my room. So i made some toast. Suddenly he bursts in. And he starts ranting. "why are you doing this are you CRAZY you cant TOAST in your own room thats DANGEROUS you're gonna start a fire, don't ever do that again, we have a KITCHEN for that. why don't you want to use the kitchen you cant just HIDE from me every day, this is OUR flat  and i want us to live TOGETHER!" He didn't stop talking and it overwhelmed me, so (this is embarrassing, but) i actually started crying and i turned away from him so i could try to control myself. and he just started babytalking me "awww its alright i didn't mean to scare you, but you see, you shouldn't have done that". he tried putting his arms around me, i told him to stop. "you need a hug right now" ...... i was so angry i think my brain might have short circuited because the next hour was me just acting the whole way through. i told him everything he wanted to hear. i was so sorry for almost burning the house down and made up some explanation that my parents were still making me sad, so i needed distance. The next big thing involved one of my best friends. she wanted to spontaneously go out for an evening. so i put on some pants and of course: HE appears in my room, asking where i'm going. i was surprised by the question and just answered "going out with Lina" he left it at that. then suddenly: "can i come too?" He threw me off with that question. Lina had said she needed some advice on personal stuff, so I said "no" because i didn't have a better answer. he got ANGRY. i explained. "Lina wants some privacy, i'm sorry" He starts arguing that Lina is just as much his best friend, and that he should be allowed to hear what she wants to say to me. Before i can reply he slams his door shut. "Don't even try to explain yourself", he says. I told my friend while meeting up with her and she began with the sympathetic "you should have said yes" and we argued about it and then she came out with this absolutely horrifying sentence: "you know how he is. you cant be *too* honest with him. he's sensitive. you need to lie to him so he doesn't get mad" it was as if i'd been splashed with cold water. i said i didn't agree with that. that that was actually unfair to HIM. nobody likes being lied to and treated less than. she called him, told him i was gonna apologize and he showed up with the angriest expression i ever saw in his face. he accused me of being depressed and that he now has the burden of my mental issues to bear. This he assumed because one night i told him about me dissassociating sometimes a few years ago. Then he wanted me to promise i would never leave him, because he's afraid i won't be able to pay my part of the rent. the crowning moment was my friend Lina mostly agreeing with him and both of them berating me for not having my life together because i still hadn't managed to find an open-ended contract job, only limited-time jobs. at the end he justified himself by saying he cant stand my parents phoning me. (at that point they had started calling me everyday and showed genuine concern ... i was trying to reform a bond with them) - apparently he resented that. he knew about my parents disciplining me with face slaps as a kid (when i was 9-11 yrs old) (they feel bad about it, and they they stopped doing it fairly early) in that moment my flatmate chose to tell me ..... (hoo boy i need to get ready to type this) .... "i'm concerned about you. if your father would ever beat you, i would beat him  to a bloody pulp" then he repeated "i would beat him/kill him" a few times, VERY agitatedly. it was scary and at that point i was numb. i didn't really respond, i just said "its fine" or something to that extent. the  thing that made me decide to move out (although certainly among many that followed that night) was this: one morning i informed him i was going to visit my parents that weekend. we had started talking again (as i mentioned before and i wanted to meet them without fighting for once). he says "but you're coming back, right". i say "of course don't be so nervous". i go to work. i get a LOT OF texts from him suddenly. i skim through it. he's mad about me calling him "nervous". i don't reply/read bc i am at work. Then he actually CALLS me. i don't pick up.  now i'm thinking: What is so  important, that he has to call me during work.  there's a 4 paragraph essay in my inbox. "watch your mouth", "you have no right to speak that way to me", "you should have more respect". he was mad i called him nervous. i responded that i don't have time to reply. he argued back. at one point i said "if i cant even call you nervous then i'm ACTUALLY gonna stay with my parents" he fiNALLY didn't reply to that. after a 10hour day i come home. i wanna shower. i go to my room, close the door and start undressing myself. of course, there's knocking on my door. i say "No" he flips out. i calmly tell him i'm only half dressed. he flips out even more, says i'm a horrible person who WANTS to fight because my "no" wasn't a good enough answer and i should have explained in full detail why he couldn't get in. he was actually SERIOUS. this was his reasoning for flipping out. he goes away. not even a minute passes by and he hammers his fist against my door again. "OPEN UP THIS TIME I *HAVE* TO COME IN" at this point i'm beginning to get kinda scared  so i say "come in" He comes in and says he needs me to disconnect with the wifi because he needs it for his work. i calmly say "ok" and disconnect my wifi. he goes away, leaves the door open. i stand up to go and close my door. HE ACTUALLY GOES AND PULLS AGAINST ME TO TRY TO PRY IT OPEN AGAIN. eventually he lets go and then he flips out FOR REAL. he starts screaming about how i'm a psycho, and that im crazy and awful and he has been nothing but nice and that he "saved" me and i haven't been thankful enough.

.... ..

yes, i was in a difficult position. but that flatmate arrangement was made on even ground. he had wanted to move out from his parents for years. i fled and left. called my parents, but they were miles away and laughed it off. i would have probably too. i called my friends. Lina offered to come and mediate. He continued screaming even with Lina there. It culminated with him roaring at me, pointing at the door saying "if you don't like how i treat you, there's the door, leave right now" with lina replying "don't say that, you NEED her money to pay rent!" it was awful, and an eye-opener. the next day, on the way to work, i decided i was gonna move out. and before i could tell him, i get a message from him (!). An ultimatum. he tells me i have 3 options. 1) leave immediately and take my stuff away within a week. i wouldn't have "pay any more than i've already payed" (it was the first day of that month and i had already payed my rent. nice) 2) stay for half a year, but immediately pay him something so that he knows i'll stay 3) stay indefinitely, but set up a " bevahiour contract" with him, so this "never happens again" i told him i'd take option 1 and then i stayed over at a friends house. then at a friends shared appartement. then at dormitary and soon i'm gonna move in with my younger brother. we've been estranged a bit but grown closer through this whole thing. now Lina and him are still friends and lina blames me for "everyone in our friend group" being mad at him. one of her first concerns, was that her birthday parties are gonna be weird now. i am completely done with her as well and don't want her in my life anymore. according to her, I left him with a rent he cant pay  and i should feel bad for that. except i dont. should i though?

[haro-whumps]

Box Boy Plurality: 02

Second whumpee won the poll. Be warned, this chapter’s a longer one

CW: Dehumanization, slavery, creepy + intimate whumper, brainwashing, manipulation, illegal business practices

Tag List: @thatsthewhump​ @whump-it​ @ashintheairlikesnow​ @fairybean101​ @finder-of-rings​ @comfortforthepain​ @shameless-whumper​ @that-one-thespian​ @burtlederp​ @castielamigos-whump-side-blog​ @raigash​ @im-not-rare-im-rarr @spiffythespook​ @whumps-the-word​ @frnkieroismydaddy​ @whumpity--whump--whump​ @michelleswhumpyreblogs​ @jo-castle​ @newandfiguringitout​ @lumpofwhump​ @infested-with-blood​

Masterlist

Ren looked up from their work computer, eyebrow arched. It wasn’t time for Yanni to come in and complain about the broken clasp on her phone charm, which Ren would ever-so-generously offer to replace for her. She wasn’t due to notice it until her midafternoon coffee break, since she wasn’t overly invested in checking the thing during work hours. 

It wasn’t Yanni, unsurprisingly, but it also wasn’t anyone Ren could say they recognized. Oh, sure, they’d seen the man’s face around before, but they’d never spoken with him, and they weren’t even sure what department he worked in.

“Mx. Pavlish, is it?” he said with a friendly, though nervous smile. He was an okay actor, though. They could only discern his nerves due to their practice at it.

“Hello,” Ren said, carefully, pleasantly neutral. “I’m afraid I can’t recall us ever meeting.”

“Ah, we haven’t spoken,” he said, taking the somewhat-cramped office chair they kept available for visitors and dragging it over to their desk. “My name is Mike.” 

He offered his hand for shaking, and Ren inwardly cringed at the feeling of his sweaty palm against their own. They took a squirt of hand sanitizer immediately after, and Mike chuckled with a self-conscious little rub to the back of his neck.

“So, Mike, what brings you here?”

“I work in security,” Mike said, and Ren felt every nerve in their body become immediately alert. “I know, uh, about your little ploy.”

Blackmail, then. He was here to blackmail them. They very, very carefully sized him up. 

“And what ploy, exactly, is that?”

“You unplug the ethernet cords to Jasmine’s and Cassandra’s computers just so you can be the one to fix them,” Mike stated, and Ren’s eyebrows shot up.

“You’ve been sitting on this for a while,” Ren mentioned, “I haven’t done that in going on three months now.”

“Wait have you been doing something else?”

“Is that relevant to this conversation?”

Mike chuckled again. “I guess not. But hey, listen, I get it. We all want to impress pretty ladies, right?” He gave Ren one of those nudge-nudge wink-wink kind of smiles, and Ren tilted their head consideringly. Maybe not blackmail? His tone and mood weren’t exactly right for it, but Ren couldn’t rule anything out. “Look, my cousin’s friends with Jasmine, I could have her set you two up on a ‘blind’ date, if you want.” Mike even made the little airquotes around the word. Precious.

“And why would you do that?”

“Because I’ve kinda got a favor I’d like to ask you?”

Hm. Wishy-washy. The threat of tattling on Ren for the sabotage hung, but distantly, left on a backburner that Ren could be aware of but neither would necessarily acknowledge, while Mike offered a perceived reward instead. Ren lifted their finger to their lips, pressing it horizontally along the line.

“I’m listening,” they stated evenly, curious.

“So, I saw you on the news. And your box boy has been, ha, everywhere. And you’re kinda like, the model citizen of whumpee-ownership, yeah?”

Ren blinked slowly, and said, “I might be.”

“God, ha, kinda cagey aren’t you?”

“I prefer to know what I’m dealing with. Continue.”

“Right, so,” Mike shifted in his seat, hands moving from the armrests to scratch at the side of his nose and then back on the armrests, “the law states that pets cannot be held legally accountable for crimes they committed under past owners. The idea is that the new owners will discipline them better, yada yada, behavioral psychology babble, you get the drift. Anyway. I am in possession of a particularly… let’s say, criminal box boy. Defiant and loudmouthed and it turns out he’s been getting into trouble while I wasn’t looking. Ha, pretty embarrassing for a security guard, huh?”

Yeah, no way in hell this guy hadn’t been using his pet to do the things he was too chicken-shit to do himself. It was a smart move, though, Ren would give him that.

“So basically, I need to do some... let’s call it whumpee-laundering. Change hands before the cops get the dna work back. He’s a good lad, y’know, don’t want anything bad to happen to him, much less for him to get locked up. So, howsabout you, oh model pet owner, take him for, what, a week? Two weeks? Just long enough for things to simmer down. I’ll take him right back off your hands as soon as this whole mess blows over, and I will definitely get you a date with Jasmine. Yeah?”

Ren stared at him contemplatively. Definitely not blackmail, this guy was in a bad way, and didn’t want the cops to have custody of a defiant whumpee that would talk the moment it was taken in. He needed Ren to say yes to this deal. But contemplative silence on a man already squirming in his seat worked wonders to sweeten the deal.

“And hey, I mean, he’ll be legally yours, right? So, like, whatever you wanna do to him while he’s at your place, you can do it. I mean, as long as you don’t kill or sell him, I do want him back. But like, if you wanna, fuck, I dunno, chop off his arm or some shit? Be my guest. As long as I get him back alive I don’t care, no restrictions, right? It’ll be fun, he’s got a pottymouth but if you gag him he’s not a bad looker, all things considered.”

Ren hummed, tapping a finger up and down against the back of their own palm, hands clasped loosely in front of their chin, elbows on their desk.

“Say, Mike?”

“Yeah?” he answered eagerly, body jumping lightly in the chair, sitting up straighter.

“I appreciate the offer to set me up with Jasmine, but I actually have no interest in dating her. You’re right; it is the simple act of showing off that I like the best.” Mike visibly began to panic, and Ren took a small mercy on him. “But there is something you have that I would be deeply appreciative of receiving.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“I want full access to company surveillance cameras and audio recorders, on my devices, and no record of my permissions.”

“Oh.” Mike blinked, and then grinned. “Oh! Oh, yeah, of course, easy as pie, I can so do that for you. So you’ll take him? Tonight, ideally?”

“When I meet him, I will assess him,” Ren stated. “If I perceive that he is any threat to my own box boy, the deal’s off.”

“Oh, oh no, I’m sorry, I gave the wrong impression!” Mike said with a much more relaxed laugh. “He’s got a defiant mouth but he won’t act up. His bark is way worse than his bite, don’t worry, he isn’t a fighter.”

“I’ll see that for myself, but very well. Bring all of his paperwork with you,” Ren said as they wrote down their number on a notepad. “Text me. I’ll send you my address. Meet there at 5:30, and no earlier. Bring any disciplinary tools you own along with him.”

“Not gonna use your own?” Mike asked with a glance at Ren’s hand sanitizer. 

“Don’t own any. I have the blindfold and sensory deprivation hood that came along with my pet’s box, but I haven’t used the blindfold since unboxing him and I’ve only touched the hood to put it away somewhere in the basement.” Actually, where had they put that thing? “My pet is too well behaved for such things.”

Mike whistled. “Nice. You get an expensive model?”

“Well, he wasn’t cheap. But he was exactly what I wanted.”

“Ooo, custom?”

“In training. His appearance was already precisely suited to my desires.”

Mike laughed and extended his hand again, before seeming to think better of it and he shot Ren a two finger salute. “I’ll see you tonight then.”

Ren nodded in return with a pleased little. “See you tonight.” Ren thought of one last thing. “Oh, and Mike?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you told him that you only plan on selling him temporarily?”

“Ah, no, just recently came up.”

“Don’t tell him this isn’t a permanent arrangement. He’ll be easier to mold, that way.”

“You’re the boss,” Mike said with double pistols, and left their office.

The moment the door closed behind him, they pulled out a notebook and began jotting down a list of pros and cons. Their agreement had been deeply tentative, not that they’d let Mike know that. They would thoroughly scrutinize the concept, and then rigorously test the box boy himself once he was brought over.

The idea of having someone to yank around, though. To punish, perhaps with some of the tools Host had listed in their disciplinary video… Ren swallowed, their mouth watering. Skin that they could pinch and cut and bruise, not deeply, nothing permanent, nothing too mean. Someone they could sink their claws into and throw away in a week or two, leaving their home unblemished and perfect, just Soren and them. Just a quick little fix. Just a nice little treat.

The potential cons outnumbered the pros, but the potential pros were of a much higher quality.

They drove home quickly that night, bidding Yanni a very short goodbye, citing business that needed attending, and they weren’t even lying.

“I bet you just wanna get home and cuddle your boy,” she teased them, sticking her tongue out.

“And I bet you’re going to do the same to your babe,” Ren teased in return, wiggling their eyebrows at her. Yanni giggled and admitted to being guilty as charged, and didn’t whine or cling any longer. See? Convincing her to get her own pet had been such a wise decision. So useful. 

“Soren!” they called the moment they walked in the door.

“Exalted!” Soren called back, and they noted the sound of a hair dryer cutting off. “You’re home earlier than usual!” Soren said as he rushed down the stairs. His hair was still a little damp, they noted, as they pulled him into a hug.

“I am. I have a big evening ahead,” Ren stated, handing him their lunch bag and prying off their jacket. 

“What’s on the agenda, Exalted?” Soren asked, hanging up their jacket for them and following them into the kitchen.

“Tonight, depending on how introductions go, we will be adding a new box boy to the house.” Ren snorted, pulling down a glass and opening the fridge, digging around for their ginger ale. “Well, a used box boy. I’m taking him off a coworker’s hands.” They “casually” glanced over their shoulder to see Soren’s reaction, and he was white as a sheet.

“E-Exalted? I, I don’t…”

“Soren, baby?” they asked sweetly, pretending not to understand.

“If-If I haven’t,” Soren stuttered shakily, eyes wide and vacant, staring somewhere far past the kitchen tile, “If I’m not, pl-pleasing you, if this, is,” he raised a shaking hand to his hair, a front lock, one of the beautiful portions he might have turned into bangs, “is about, what I almost did, I’m sorry, I can do better, I can be better, please, I don’t--I can’t--please, Exalted, I just need to know, just tell me and I’ll do it, I want to, I, I need to, please, just tell me, tell me anything I’ll do anything Exalted please, please, I can be good, I want to be good! I want to, I want to be good, I want to, Exalted, I want to be good for you just tell me please I’ll do anything, I’ll do anything!”

Ren sipped idly at their ginger ale, not bothering to mask their face with concern or pity when he clearly couldn’t see them anyway. God, he sounded so pretty like this. Tears budding up in his eyes, his hands shaking so visibly, his body trembling in a more subtle, yet equally delicious way. It was all so perfect to watch, to listen to as he broke down. They knocked back the rest of their drink and set the glass down on the counter.

“Soren, angel,” they crooned, face twisted up artfully and voice sweet as honey. They gently pried Soren’s hand from his hair and placed it on his collar, which made him gasp, eyes blinking rapidly, immediately grounding him. They caressed his face, then tilted it up. Petting at the lock of hair he’d just been tugging at, they smiled pityingly. “My sweet little bird, no no. You haven’t done anything wrong, pet. I’ve forgiven you for hurting me so badly, it’s in the past my darling angel, weeks in the past. My precious, sweet Soren, shush now, shush. Nothing bad is happening to you. This will be a good thing! Just because I’ll have a new plaything doesn’t mean I’ll neglect you, Soren, sweetheart. And you’ll have someone lower than you on the pecking order! Won’t that be nice?”

“I--I--”

“Shhhh, Soren, shhhhh, shush now. It’s okay, it’s alllllll alright. You’re my favorite, darling, you’ll always be my favorite plaything, don’t worry.”

“Th-thank you, thank you Exalted, thank you.”

“There, there’s a good boy. So well mannered, saying exactly what you’re meant to.” Ren hugged him tightly, too tight, but only just a little. “Don’t forget, my pet. You will belong to me forever. You will kneel at my feet only, you will eat only when I am the one to give you food, you will never set foot outside this house without me and you will never belong to anyone else. You’re mine, mine alone, and mine forever, Soren.”

“Yes,” Soren said, sounding grateful and relieved, just like he was meant to. “Yes, Exalted, thank you, thank you so much.”

Ren grabbed a fistful of hair and kissed him, and he kissed back eagerly. 

“Soren, tell me you love me,” they ordered sweetly, and Soren beamed. 

“I love you, Exalted! I love you, Ren!” He leaned against them and they let him. “I won’t ever love anyone as much as I love you, Ren.”

“I know you won’t, my angel, you’re so good.”

And that was when the doorbell rang.

“Right on time,” Ren mentioned with a glance at the kitchen clock. “Come along, pet, let’s go interview our new potential plaything.”

“Yes, Exalted.”

Mike looked no less awkward standing up than he did sitting down, Ren thought, as they opened the door. He held himself like an adolescent trying out for theater who had no idea how to act and was in possession of limbs too long for his body. Behind him and to the side, a box boy carried his box on his back, looking very much like he was about to be crucified or somesuch.

“Come in,” Ren welcomed, “Take off your shoes.” Not that it mattered. The boy was filthy and bloody. Every room he set foot in would need to be thoroughly cleaned. Honestly, Mike couldn’t have even given him a bath before bringing him over? He really was in a rush.

“Set the box down; let me get a look at you,” Ren ordered. They observed the box boy, a young man with short (ugh) brown hair, too short to even grab efficiently. Nothing to yank him around by, and no time to grow it out. Whatever, they'd just have him wear a leash or somesuch. Brown eyes, tan skin, ambiguous ethnicity. Somewhat muscled, but half-starved and visibly exhausted, so he moved with a weakness. He let the box thunk down on the carpet, and when he raised his eye he met Ren's boldly. 

“Position two,” they said with a snap of their fingers, and they heard a pair of knees hit the floor before they saw the new boy kneel. They turned with surprise and saw Soren kneeling, which prompted them to laugh. 

“Oh no, no, Soren, angel, sweetheart, no. Both of you, position one. Soren, now, listen--haha! You just stand there and look pretty okay?” They pet his hair, admiring the way he flushed with embarrassment over his mixup. “You just stay put right here and watch. I'm interviewing the new boy and testing his behavior, alright? You stay put.” They kissed him and turned back to the boy. He was, at the very least, standing in position one, his chin tilted up just a little too high for submission but that was something that could be beaten into him. “Position six,” they ordered, and he held out his wrists with a silent glower. But, ah, to listen to his breathing, was that fear they could detect?

He was bruised and bloody and tired, in all ways just in a horrible state of disrepair. He would require so much fixing, and honestly that thrilled Ren. They took his barcoded wrist and read off the numbers tattooed underneath it. 843-902. 

“02, huh?” Ren mused aloud. “I think that’ll make a fine nickname for you.”

“Oh, his name is--” Mike started, but Ren cut him off. 

“Irrelevant.”

02’s nostrils flared. “If I'm going to buy him, and I think I will, then the creature he was before coming into my service is entirely irrelevant.”

“Oh, good, you'll take him then?” Mike asked, sounding nervous and relieved. Ren delighted in how much control they had over him, at that moment. 

“I'm not done deciding yet.”

Mike’s flash of nervous panic was so delicious, really. As was 02’s confliction. He didn’t know if he wanted to stay with Mike or be taken by Ren, aww, how cute.

“State your type,” Ren ordered, and 02 snarled. Honest to god snarled. Ren had to swallow, salivating at the thought of how much fun it would be to break that.

“Fff-” 02 choked on his own word, conditioning clearly warring with whatever it was that he was trying to do, and Ren arched an eyebrow. “Fuck you.”

They saw Mike twitch agitatedly in their peripheral, but didn’t pay him any mind.

“Position five.”

02 dropped like a rock, his forehead actually hitting the floor, and Ren chuckled. His Processors had done well with him, whoever they’d been, but not quite well enough. The image was all too clear now. Mike had bought himself a box boy, discounted for his bad mouth, and used his excellent behavioral obedience in order to commit whatever crimes he’d forced the boy into, while tolerating his naughty little words as nothing more than a background nuisance. Or, given the bruising, knocking him around for the disobedience, but never bothering with legitimate training.

“State your type,” Ren repeated, their tone taking a special quality that meant firm disappointment. Soren eeped behind them, and they got to watch 02’s chest seize.

“Combination, Ren.”

“Oh no, darling,” Ren said with a laugh, “You don’t get to call me by name.” They nudged his temple with the side of their foot and stated, “Position two.” Once within range, Ren gripped his chin and forced him to look at them. “You will refer to me exclusively as Exalted, or, if you feel I am in a particularly good mood with you, you may call me Honored One. My name is not to come out of that filthy little mouth of yours. Not until we’ve cleaned it thoroughly. Understand?”

They released his chin but he continued to hold their gaze. “Yes,” he stated, “Honored One.”

“Aww, Mike,” Ren cooed, turning to him. “He thinks he’s cute,” they intoned, sounding very much charmed, like a child had just fallen over while dancing. 

“I know he’s got a big mouth but he really does obey,” Mike assured.

“I can see that,” they said airily. “Come join me in my office, we’ll discuss price and the paperwork. 02, take your box down into the basement and stow it in the back corner of the laundry room, on top of the other one there. Take Position two in the center of the room when you are done, and wait. Soren, heel pet.”

They led Mike and Soren away from the foyer, not checking if 02 was obeying and not needing to. He might hesitate or linger, but Ren knew with full confidence that by the time they were done signing the papers and lightly harassing Mike for the evening, 02 would be exactly where they’d told him to be. 

“Actually,” they said at the door of their office, turning with raised index fingers. “Soren, baby, why don’t you go ahead and get started on dinner for us, mm?” Ren kissed him and patted his cheek sharply, twice. He nodded, worrying his lip, but scampered off to do as he’d been told.

“He’s beautiful,” Mike commented, before Soren was entirely out of earshot. “Even prettier in real life than in the ads, and I mean, wow,” he said with a chuckle, “you know?”

“I do know,” Ren said, gesturing for Mike to take a seat as they closed and locked the door. They pulled up their surveillance cameras on their computer, turned away from Mike, and got their scanner ready to make copies and digital files of the documents. “Did you bring the tools I requested?”

“Sure did,” Mike said, patting his backpack. “Retractable cane, whip, two different gags and a muzzle, which, heh, he hates so much, let me tell you. Handcuffs, too, those too.”

“And the documentation,” Ren prompted, watching him pull them out of the bag.

“You are, heh, quite the presence, you know that Ren?” Mike said as he pulled out a manilla envelope, a cheap blue folder, and some--GOD--loose leaf papers. The fucking audacity, really. The messiness, the lack of professionalism. He couldn’t have haphazardly shoved them into the cheap folder? He really had to go around carrying official legal documents loose leaf? Their BLAW405: Filing and Organizational Systems professor would’ve made a five minute ordeal of tearing this poor, poor fool a new one. Ren tried to make themself pity Mike’s incompetence, because it was just about the only thing preventing them from feeling an unseemly amount of rage.

“Like really, I’m a security guy, you know? I’m kind of hired because not a lot of people intimidate me but you’ve just got this, uh, aura, I guess? Just sorta the way you talk and hold yourself and--oh, yeah, you just, yeah go ahead,” he cut himself off as they took the papers from him and skimmed over them, sorting them into some semblance of a reasonable order to be holding these files in, and read over them quickly but carefully one by one. They were familiar with most of this--they did, after all, possess a box boy of their own--but it never hurt to be thorough.

“I have a certain way with people, it’s true,” Ren commented idly as they shifted through the papers. “Sign here. You’re quite fortunate I am in possession of a notary’s stamp and can forge an impressive signature, you know that Mike?” Ren asked, pulling the stolen (well, illegally purchased. Their mama was a persuasive woman in her own right, and there was little on the black market she could not or would not acquire for her child, at their asking) stamp from one of their locked drawers.

“Oh, fuck, we gotta get a notary for this?”

“Some countries do not require it, and I hear the American legislation on transfer of ownership even varies from state to state, but our homeland is a little more meticulous in these matters. But like I said,” they took the signed paper from Mike and aligned the stamp carefully, before bringing it down with a satisfying thunk, “you’re in luck.”

“You are,” Mike said, chuckling nervously, kind of breathy and rather high, “really something, huh Ren?” They loved his discomfort.

“Mm,” they hummed, pleased, preening a bit, but hey, they deserved to. “Sign here.”

Four signatures later, Ren tapped the stack of papers against their desk, bringing them all nice and neatly in line, and then set them into their copier. “Now, the access files I requested?” Ren prompted, extending their hand. He unzipped an interior pocket in his windbreaker and produced a thumbdrive. “Perfect. You’ll have 02 back as soon as you’re ready for him.” Their copier whirred to a halt and they took the stack of copies from the tray, then slid all of them into the manilla folder, rather than breaking them up like a moron. They held it out for Mike and flashed him a darling smile. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”

“Yeah,” he said, sounding a little dazed, taking the folder like it might get up and start moving. “You, you too. Ha, wow, you are efficient.”

“It’s why I have the job I have, and why I lead the life I live.” Ren stood and ushered Mike out of their office, then out of their home. “See you next time.”

“Yeah, thanks again!” he called, and they waved with a bright smile.

“Exalted?” Soren said behind them once they shut the front door, “Dinner will be ready in 40 minutes.”

“Perfect, Soren. I’m going to go greet our new addition, you may come if you want to.”

“Yes, Exalted, I would like that,” he said, wringing his hands anxiously. They placed their palm on top of that worried movement, and Soren stilled instantly.

“Shhh, pet. Remember, you’ll always be my favorite, alright?”

Soren nodded rapidly, but did not appear soothed. Hmm. “A-are you,” Soren hesitated, searching for the words. “Are you going to punish 02 for his defiance, Exalted?”

“I am,” Ren admitted easily. Soren twitched, distress increasing. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re worried for him?”

Soren nodded. “You’ve always been so good to me, Exalted, I don’t want, um, I don’t--I…” Soren pulled on a lock of his own hair, and they shushed him again, caressing his cheek.

“He’ll only get what he deserves, my precious angel. I can treat you well because you’re a very good boy for me, Soren. I’ve rarely had to punish you; you only occasionally fuck up. But my coworker clearly hasn’t given 02 the structure or discipline he needs in order to make him good, so I’m going to have to fix him. And fixing him will require punishing him. Don’t worry, though, pet, I won’t be cruel. The punishment will fit the crime; he won’t get anything done to him that he doesn’t deserve. I promise. He’ll deserve everything that happens to him, baby, sweetheart, I promise, I promise, absolutely all of it.”

Soren nodded again, gripping his collar and relaxing, a little. It was so nice to see him keyed up and anxious. It was so nice to make Mike squirm and sweat. It was so nice, knowing that their own personal chew toy was kneeling painfully on the concrete floor of their laundry room, just waiting for them to go down and bloom a few more bruises across his skin. Perfect, perfect, all of this, perfect. Exactly what Ren deserved.

“Yes, Exalted.”

“Come along, pet,” Ren beckoned, and Soren followed them down the stairs.

02 greeted their arrival by spitting on the floor at Ren’s feet.

“Oh, disgusting little bug, aren’t you?” Ren asked mildly, stepping over the splotch. They gripped his chin again and he glared up at them. “Tell me, 02, which do you consider to be worse? Death, or refurbishment?”

02’s eyes went wide, suddenly struck with fear. Ren of course would do neither, this was a temporary arrangement, after all. But 02 didn’t know that.

“...Exalted?” 02 asked in a voice that was very very very small.

“Answer the question. Which is worse?”

02’s chest began raising visibly, rapidly. Hard to miss, with how thin he was. “D--”

“And don’t even think about lying to me, slave.”

02’s breath caught, a delightful little gagging noise escaping him. “Refurbishment, Exalted.”

“Hm. Then allow me to make something very clear to you, 02. Soren outranks you in every capacity. You will not eat until he has eaten, you will not sleep unless he has first gone to bed, you will not so much as speak if he has something to say. And if you decide that that makes you jealous, or angry, or if you just decide you don’t like my precious boy for some miscellaneous reason, allow me to make it entirely understood that if you harm so much as a single strand of hair on his head, I will personally instruct the Processors to make sure you beg for death before they put you up for resale.” They released his chin with a small flick of their fingers into the soft underside, and were gratified by the little jerk, and the way his eyes stayed on them. “Do you comprehend?”

“You--you’re warning me to keep my hands off your pet?” he asked, fearful and yet still incredulous.

“Of course,” they said, placing a hand on the front of his close-cropped hair and slowly stroking his skull, cradling his head. “Soren is my precious little bird. And you?” Ren moved their thumb sweetly, back and forth, against his prickly hair. “You’re nothing more than some worthless mutt.”

Next

[mnogorgannik]

2 10 n 11 :)

this is basically an essay im so sorry. watch how hard i can infodump (ill put this under a cut hopefully it works bc sometimes tumblr decimates the keep reading things if theyre in asks)

2. Who’s your favorite of the Bound? What do you think of the different ideologies they have? Which of the factions are you most aligned with?

WE ALREADY KNOW THE ANSWER I AM A PETER LOVER THROUGH AND THROUGH!!!!!! oh baby i love that morally questionable architect. pretty early on in getting into pathologic (it’s coming up on a year now...) i thought about peter stamatin too hard and now i’m here. but really i find him to be such a fascinating character!

the thing about pathologic that i love is how almost every character can be as complex as you want. pathologic does an excellent job of implying a lot of character traits while only exploring some in further detail, which in some games is frustrating but patho does it so well! it consistently hints at traits and lets you fill in the details yourself. peter’s character is extremely interesting to me... and maybe a little more relatable at times than i want to admit lol.

i think i’ll talk about both stamatins though! their dynamic hurts me a lot. i’ll start with andrey bc i’ve been thinking about him lately. although i’ll bounce back and forth between both stamatins.

i’ve said this before but i’ll say it again.... andrey’s role as a protector who inadvertently hurts the people he cares about really gets to me. he is not a shield but, in his own words, a battering ram. and the problem is that battering ram has a recoil.

i have to wonder how that mentality of his came about, anyways. the implication is that it’s always just been him and peter, so did he take on that role because there wasn’t anyone else to do it?

in his efforts to protect peter from... military, i believe, he kills four people. which leads to daniil getting mistaken for andrey, which leads to daniil getting shot. and almost dying. he protects peter but to a smothering extent, peter even says he’s been suffering for ten years bc of andrey which is a LOADED line. he protects on a physical level but he kinda fucks up on the emotional.

there’s a horrible irony in peter and eva being the people he cares about the most and both attempting suicide. with eva once she’s missing he immediately goes running off trying to look for her, and . ahh i can’t remember right off hand what exactly he thought happened. but ik he was probably expecting a fight. with peter he says that after that he’ll never let peter leave his side, at least “as far as his knife can fly”... it sounds cheesy but the one thing he can’t save anyone from is themself.

and god the way andrey bases his ENTIRE sense of self worth on peter fucking hurts. they’re not peter and andrey, the architects. they’re Peter And Andrey, The Architect. (thinking about “one architect, two brothers” here.) andrey thinks he’s larger than life and all but he’s constantly living in peter’s shadow. their theatre of death positions come to mind here, with peter standing up, looking down at andrey. but andrey is on his knees in front of peter, arms limp to his sides.... separated by a wooden beam...

peter’s side of this dynamic is fascinating too. his dependency on andrey is. ow. leaving all practical matters and decision making to him... there’s this resentment (That’s Fine I’ve Been Suffering For Ten Years Because Of Him) and lack of communication that especially shows through for him.

while in p2 andrey completely crumbles if peter dies, peter doesn’t seem to care...... at all....?? which hopefully is elaborated upon in p2. he’s willing to talk to aspity about worrying if andrey is angry with him but he can’t bring it up with andrey himself. when he asks how andrey is doing he stops and says andrey is a “tough man” and can handle anything. in general, while it’s definitely there for andrey, themes of dependency are really glaringly obvious for peter.

one of my favorite peter things i’ve talked about before is still his ego!!! peter has a gigantic ego!!! he really does think that even though he’s hit the ceiling and can’t go any further he is still “a true architect” and “the rock upon which is built the stairway to tomorrow”. he has a blunt edge to him and he doesn’t ever tell you more than he thinks he needs to which i love. if he doesn’t want to tell you something he isn’t gonna do it. this is a character trait i think ppl miss which is sad because it’s so good and adds another layer of depth to him!

it really does hurt me how he’s valued for his mind alone (AHEM AHEM AHEM. GEORGIY) but it’s the thing nobody understands about him. i’m nowhere near as smart as peter lol but i do know that pain of feeling like none of your ideas can be understood because you just can’t express them the way you’d like, and then feeling like you’ll never be able to make it happen.

also, here’s a little thing  i’ve picked up on. this connection probably doesn’t exist but i’m making it because the stamatins make me lose my mind and start becoming one of those people who looks for connections in everything i guess. peter standing in the theatre of death, andrey below him. peter’s loft being at a high point in the town, the broken heart being underground. peter’s loft is also higher north on the map but the broken heart is lower south. just smth interesting

i have more thoughts on them of course! but this is all getting awfully long. i feel like i’ve only just gotten to the tip of the iceberg  even though i’ve written so much skfjskfjs this just feels quite surface level or. at least what is surface level for me who thinks about the stamatins so hard.

anyways i’ll keep my answers to the other two parts of this question quick! peter and andrey’s more creative vs practical mindsets are rly neat. especially because i would actually argue peter is a little more grounded in reality in certain aspects. not all, but certain ones...... their take on the utopian ideology is interesting. hot take: peter’s version of utopianism leans a tad towards humility. and andrey /does/ feel “straightforward utopian” but i think in certain regards? this man has a bit of a termite streak..... (hi al if you’re reading this). but i won’t get into that right now i’ve already gone on so long. saving that for later.

i think all of the factions kinda suck in their own way sometimes, honestly? although all of them are well written and have their pros and cons. were i in pathologic and i had to choose one i’d probably be a termite but everyone around me seems to think i’m a utopian. is it bc i love peter so much

10. What would you be like as a Pathologic character?

this question is a hard one! i did make a self insert once, mile-a-minute, but they’ve become their own oc by now. i think i’d be very...... very afraid...... probably isolating myself why does every pathologic character break quarantine???? also you could trade beetles with me :) thats about all i’ve got sorry this is real short

11. What is something you would change, writing-wise, about either game?

UGH i’ve been gushing about pathologic because. obviously i love this game so much. but the way it handles racism & such (in both games!) leaves much to be desired :/

i see a lot of the points it’s trying to make but i think the way they’re handled can be very messy. there are moments that work very well but. a lot that don’t. (i am aware that dybowski writes partially from his own experiences)

all too often the game “validates” the kin’s oppression and... at times paints them as oddly antagonistic? i don’t like how often as artemy you’re able to be like “i’m not one of those beasts” and i think there are better ways to touch on his internalized racism. in general the constant comparisons to animals is weird. you get big vlad who is obviously explicitly racist comparing them to animals, but then sometimes it’s like “ACTUALLY calling them animals is fine :)”

i think the herb brides are kind of. Hm. in their portrayal. also using parts of the buryat alphabet to denote an accent is weird. making odongh and herb brides inhuman is weird. connecting the kin to Magic is weird.

and, listen, i’d really like to not be playing Artemy Burakh Experiences a Microaggression Simulator every time i’m playing the haruspex route. hate that you either can’t call ppl out on their shit or if you can it ends the conversation/bars you from getting necessary information. glad you at least get to drag the vlads, i guess?

i also was talking about this but wrt peter specifically, and this issue is present throughout the game but it’s especially visible with peter, i don’t like how often you can mock him for his addiction.

he’s obviously in an extremely rough patch! being able to be just so plain cruel to him about the dependency on alcohol (and iirc in p1 hallucinogens, bc aglaya mentions it) he’s formed to cope with his mental illness & trauma just feels bad. especially because yes it is not a healthy coping mechanism at all but... it still is a coping mechanism, if that makes sense?

the way you’re able to constantly rub it in his face feels awful. peter is fully aware that it isn’t good for him and shows a desire to quit. even if he didn’t it would still be awful to say because. it’s just insensitive. like you don’t just go up to someone and keep being like HEY YOU DRINK A LOT YOU SHOULD STOP DOING THAT DO YOU KNOW WHAT WATER IS? feels really bad to keep harping on something that causes him pain and that he struggles with every single day.

however peter does have moments where he tells you Not to say that, or if you pry into why he drinks he’ll outright say he doesn’t remember you being his friend, which is better than nothing.

in p1 moreso than p2 i hate how you can be like oh he’s craaaazy he’s off his rocker he’s delusional!!!! that “why, i never... an architect of schizophrenia!” comment sticks in my mind because it’s just... so genuinely mean. especially because if i remember correctly that line is from when he’s planning on LITERALLY FUCKING BURNING HIMSELF ALIVE

i think if they were going to have all of this they should have gone more in depth on how it’s really. not good that he’s treated so poorly. and i do believe that’s what they were going for, a la the art book w/ the whole “not to be made into a drunken clown, this is a tragic character”, etc. but it just doesn’t land. i’m holding out for the bachelor and changeling routes in p2 to see if they expand upon any of it but i highly doubt i’ll be satisfied in this regard.

i stand by the One time it was really fucking funny to clown on peter being the time you can tell him little girls eat raspberries and earthworms and he just believes you

[xserpentlife]

Mirror

Requested: Hey so I wanted to ask if like you could do a sweet Pea x reader that can help with the readers hardcore body issues because even though I’m a skinny girl I have the absolute worst body issues to the point of where I claw at myself in the mirror and some feel-good stuff for others who have my problem would be really nice cause there’s not a lot of love for the insecure twigs in the itty bitty titty comity.

A/N: I wouldn't say I am the best person to write this. I myself and plus size and deal with those insecurities. I tried writing it how I would write a plus size insecurity fic but instead switched the insecurities if that makes sense. I hope this is what you wanted and I hope it helps you. Remember anon you are beautiful in your own skin whether you believe it or not. I know it is hard, but you judge yourself so much harsher than others do.

Warnings: self-deprecation, insecurities

Word Count: 2147

You hated it, you had no curves, you had noodle arms, you had no breasts either and your body was always compared to a twig. You could never find clothes that fit, always too big on you in even the smallest section. It is not like it was your fault, it was just the way you were built, it was your genetics and there was nothing you could do, and god you tried. Tried so many times to conform to the standard of beauty, but in society ,you're either too big or too small. You grew up with this idea of needing curves, wanting so hard to fit in and be beautiful with hips and large breasts, but for you, it just wasn’t in the cards.

You wanted to be the first that could wear high waisted jeans with a crop top, but instead, you opted for oversized t-shirts, it made you comfortable to be hidden. But you never really wanted to hide yourself, at least deep down.

Pea was your best friend, for years he had known you, and grown up with you. You went to Riverdale though, and he to Southside, however, this year was the first time you would actually be in school with him because the Southside was transferring to Riverdale High, you were essatic. Finally, someone who knew you for you, not just as the skinny girl. But you always hid from him, hide your body, you never once swam with him during the summer and if you did you always wore those cover ups that hid everything. You could say you were closer friends but you never let it get further than a kiss here and there, always too afraid to let your body show at all.

He was coming to pick you up in the morning taking you to school, because you were now going to the same place, it had become a tradition for him to now pick you up every morning. Usually, you lock your door but you forgot to this morning. You were in a bra and panty set when you heard your door open, you turned expecting your mother but instead saw Sweet Pea’s eyes staring back at you.

“Fuck oh my god Y/N I’m sorry I called up but you didn’t answer I wanted to make sure you weren’t still asleep and your door was open and fuck I’m sorry uhm I’ll be downstairs”

“...”

You didn’t know what to do your body was frozen in the spot it had been since you saw him. He was so quick to leave. Your mind filled with the thoughts you had been plagued with for years. He saw you practically naked. He saw your collarbones, saw how skinny you looked, saw that you had no curves, or boobs. He saw everything and he left. You turned looking at the mirror dropping the dress that was in your hand, a dress you were so confident to wear because Pea had always smiled when he saw you in it now putting fear through you. You body staring back at you, looking so far from the idea that you began clawing at your skin. Scratching your arms crying wishing that you could change it but you couldn’t it was all that you wanted you just wanted to feel pretty, pretty for once in your life. To gain the curves, that you craved.

Pea knew that he never should have walked into your room like that, however, since you were not answering when he was calling your name from downstairs he figured that you were asleep. It wasn’t the first time that happened, he has had to wake you up so many times, so it wasn’t like it was out of normal, however, what he definitely did not expect was that you were one, not asleep and two, only in panties and a bra. He never expected to catch you like that, and it wasn’t like he did it on purpose. He just wasn’t that guy, and god did he like you. He has been in love with you for so , so long, but he always respected you and your boundaries never pushing forward until you did always afraid he would push too much. But seeing you like that shocked him, he on one hand felt bad that he invaded your privacy but on the other hang he thought you were so fucking beautiful.

Pea sat downstairs waiting for you to come down, figuring that you would have slipped your clothes on and came down instantly but you didn’t. He got worried when he heard glass shatter, and he ran upstairs instantly. And since past events, he would have knocked but his heart and mind were telling him you were in danger so he barged in once again.

“Y/N...” he barged in seeing you on the ground mirror shattered, a hairbrush laying on the floor, you clawing at your arms, sobbing. You didn’t even acknowledge him, you couldn’t, so in your head that you didn’t even think about that fact that he was there in front of you. “Y/N look at me!” he said it louder but even then you didn’t move. He didn’t want to hurt you, didn’t want to invade your privacy by touching you but he had seen your anxiety. Dealt with it maybe even more than you did, seeing as he’s the one that kind of helped you realize that you had it. He knew he had to touch you, you needed contact to get out of your head, when you were this deep in, words never worked. But you were lying there curled up, somewhat naked, seeing as you only had a bra and panties on. Would it be bad if he touched you? He wanted to help. He was having an inner turmoil with his mind but he needed you to be okay, and he knew it was the only way. So he did, he reached out his hand to your arm “Y/N hey… I’m right here, c'mon look at me princess”. But it still didn’t work. “I need you to let me in” you were still clawing at your skin, tears pouring down your face, not even paying attention to his presence like you usually do. He began coaxing you out, whispering rubbing your arms, eventually using a little force to pry your arms away from each other, so you could stop scratching. You eventually looked up at him, realizing he was there, kneeling next to you, looking at you like this.

“Pea…? Get out! Stop looking at me! I’m disgusting, get out, get  out, get out!!”

“What are you talking about! You’re beautiful, I’m not leaving you like this” Pea grabbed a blanket off your bed once you stopped a bit, he draped it over your body and leaned you towards him. “What’s going on? You gotta let me in what happened to you and what happened to the mirror”

“I broke it! I couldn’t look anymore! And stop looking at me…I’m not what you want to see, I’m not like other girls, I’m disgusting Pea”

“What are you talking about?”

“You saw my body! For the first time, you saw the way I looked I’m not…”

“Stop it! You are fucking gorgeousY/N you are so fucking beuaiful”

“I’m not Pea, I’m skinny, and, and I have no hips or boobs or anything, I just… I’m not…”

“Y/N you are!” He began to stroke your hair gently, knowing it always calmed you a bit. “You are so much more than enough Y/N. You are beautiful inside and out. You may be skinnier than a lot of girls yeah, but that is who you are, you can’t control that like I can’t control being big foot” You chuckled slightly. “Princess I… shit sorry, I hate, you know me and emotions. I love you Y/N so, so much. I love you for you, I've loved you since we were little, I loved you for your smile, your laugh the way you can always make me calm down by just a touch of your presence. I love how you scrunch your nose when you laugh or how your lips go tight when your mad, and I love your body too. And yeah I know you hide it and that is okay, but I need you to know that your body doesn't define you, you are gorgeous. You are hot and sexy and everything in between don’t youe ver think that a number ona  scale or how your clothes fit defines who you are becuase fuck princess you are so, so, so much more” His thumb made it’s way to your chin as he leaned down pressing his lips to yours.

“I want to believe you, I do Pea, but I can’t it’s so fucking hard. I’ve never felt like a beautiful girl. I don’t have curves…don’t have a womanly body. I know you say I’m pretty I know you smile when I wear certain things, and that makes me so happy but I just don’t feel it. I know it isn’t that important but sometimes… it’s nice to feel beautiful or even…I don’t know…seductive?”

“But baby you are, so many times you’ve made me… Oh god, this is terrible to say, but there have been so many times that you've uh made me… hard and I've had to walk out of the room because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. You are sexy, and seductive and beautiful. Let me make you feel like that”

“I don’t know if I can Pea…”

“Only if you want to try we can, I love you and your body Y/N”

“I wanna try…” He started slowly kissing your lips softly, making your mind melt into him. You then felt his lips disconnect but felt them gently press against your neck,  slowly sucking into your skin. His arm moving up to your breast as he gently squeezed his other hand unclipping a bra. You broke away gasping for a breath before covering your body. “Stop…”

“Like I said we stop whenever you want”

“I don’t know if I can do this”

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to but you gotta let me in that pretty little head of yours princess. I can’t help if I don’t know what you’re thinking”

You looked down playing covering your breasts with your arms. “I just… everyone one else… all these girls at school have these big breasts, and big asses and im here with nothing. My breasts are big enough for an a cup bra if that, I barely even need to wear a bra, it's like nothing's there. I don’t look like a typical girl and it…”

“Stop baby… your boobs so what if they are small, that is how you were made, tehy are fucking beautidul I hink you are so sexy, and yeah other girls may have big moodbs but you having small onces doesn;t make you any les feminine then they are”

“But I don’t get it bigger boobs are so much better, so much prettier”

“Baby I find you pretty cause I like you for you, big boobs or small it wouldn’t matter to me, would it make you mad if I had a big dick or a small dick… wait maybe don’t answer that...”  chuckle came out of you once again.

“No, I wouldn’t care…”

“Well that's good phew that could’ve went soooo wrong” You laughed again your hands coming up to your mouth to stifle the laugh ultimately leading to your breasts being on show. Pea looked down slowly cupping them in his hands as he pressed his lips to the supple skin. He slowly began sucking his tongue taking a moment to lick around your nipple as your head fell back and you moaned into the air.

“Beautiful Princess, my sexy girl”

You both went on like this for awhile, there were many times you had to stop, many times he made you tell him how you were feeling but he made you so comfortable, made you feel wanted and needed. You were still so scared, but with Pea, he made everything ok. Made you forget the thoughts that ran through your head, and no it wasn’t an automatic fix, Pea could not fix all the trauma you felt from years of hating who you were but it made it easier to talk to him about how you were feeling, he made it easier for you to feel pretty when he was showing you how you were, making you feel like the perfect girl even though you knew you were far from it. He made you feel so much better in your own skin, he made you feel like you.

[shea-morgan]

Discord Text & Short Para Thread

WHO: Jace & Shea ( @jace-matthews )​

WHEN: August 30th

WHAT: After Jace breaks the news of his break up and in the midst of party planning for next weekend, they end up having an emotional sleepover in khai’s guest bedroom lol

TRIGGER WARNINGS: -crinnge emoooootions

MENTIONS:

Very briefly: @aaronhart93 @romanbeckett @lorencourtier 

talk about @malakhai-ozera @dammitdorian

Jace are you okay?

Shea. yeah

Jace you promise?

Shea. I will be eventually

Jace Whats wrong

Shea. have fun at your party

Jace shea it’s next weekend

Shea. okay my statement still stands

Jace so fucking talk to me. Please

Shea. I am

Jace Whats wrong

Shea. Nothing

Jace alright whatever

Shea. I’m just saying I can’t go to your party

Jace why the fuck not

Shea. Aaron & Roman

Jace whatever

Shea. you really think it’s a good idea for me to show up?

Jace I really could not give a rats ass if they want you there or not. It’s my house

Shea. will there be alcohol?

Jace some

Shea. yeah

Jace k.

Shea. Jace

Jace what shea?

Shea. all I do is make you mad

Jace I’m not mad. I’m just annoyed You give one worded answers like you have lost the ability of how to speak to me I’m not a stranger

Shea. I’m afraid and I’m confused

Jace what are you so afraid of babe?

Shea. I don’t have words for that right now

Jace okay then I guess I’m goin to bed

Shea. wait

Jace yes?

Shea. do you still love loren?

Jace I’ll always love him but he’s not my person

Shea. can you come here?

Jace yes i can

Shea. can you ... sleep here?

Jace yes I can

Shea. good

Jace give me 5 minutes

.... 5 minutes later.

Jace pulling up to Shea’s place, Jace took a deep breath, getting out in just his joggers and walking towards the entrance of his place, taking the stairs and knocking on the door.

Shea. It was moments after the knock that Shea pulled the door opened to see Jace. He didn’t know what he even planned to do, but found himself closing the space between them and pulling Jace into a hug. A tight hug.

Jace Jace was nearly still, his glasses fogging up the minute his tears started flowing down his face. He had yet to cry. And he was holding it in. It was always “be strong Jace” but he just couldn’t, breaking down in Shea’s arms and hugging him back

Shea. Shea couldn’t see Jace’s face, but he could feel him break down. So he didn’t pull away he just held Jace for as long as he needdd. He let his chin rest over his shoulder and didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything to say, as long as Jace knew it was okay to let it out on Shea.

Jace he finally pulled back, using the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe his face and smiled at Shea. “Thank you.” He said clearing his throat. “I don’t uh...normally do that”

Shea. He let go of Jace, offering a small half smile back to him, meeting his gaze. “Yeah... me either,” he replied, reaching out to pull him inside.

Jace he followed, smiling that he was at Khai’s spot and not just actually chilling on a couch. “We just going to bed?”

Shea. Shea walked over to the bedroom he was staying in, the comforter already pulled back like he already was in it. Which he was  briefly. “Oh... do you not want to go to bed?” He asked, turning to look back at him.

Jace he snickered, pulling off his glasses and plopping right into the bed and sighing happily. “Honestly it’s what I need”

Shea. Shea crawled back into the bed beside Jace after a moment. “Yeah me too,” he said. “I didn’t want to sleep here alone again.”

Jace “you don’t ever have to do that again” he said truthfully, crawling under the covers and bringing the covers up to his neck as he turned on his side

Shea. “what are you saying?” He asked, letting himself to get close to jace, getting comfy under the covers.

Jace he shrugged. “Like if you need me to stay again, I will.” He cleared his throat. “But I think Khai is back tomorrow”

Shea. Moved his head to snuggle in closer, letting his lips and nose rest on Jace’s shoulder and let his heavy eyes flutter shut. “Yeah... remind me never to take a vacation with a girlfriend or boyfriend or whatever,” he muttered. It was stil so strange to be saying words like boyfriend and admitting he liked Jace. Although really only him and khai were aware.

Jace “it’s not terrible.” He said smiling as he felt shea now much closer to him. “Why? Is Khai and Dorian not having a good time either?” He asked, just curious.

Shea. He sighed lightly, and opened his eyes again. “I ... shouldn’t say anything,” he shook his head a little bit. “It’s between him and Dorian.”

Jace “He already told me some things so I’m sure he might say more. But I won’t pry.” He assured him, sighing a little to himself

Shea. Shea picked up his head a little bit to look at Jace and then rest it on a pillow. “Yeah, I’m aware he told you things,” he said. “Snitching on me about not sleeping here.”

Jace “I just wanted you to have a full size bed.” He said truthfully, turning around to face shea. “I didn’t like the idea of you on a couch”

Shea. Shea bit down on his bottom lip for a long moment. Meeting Jace's eyes when he turned over and faced him. "I'm surprised you like the idea of me at all," He muttered. But he was being honest.

Jace "I've liked the idea of you for a really long time." Jace finally muttered, looking up at shea as his lip pressed into a hard line, a little thrown at how deep this conversation was starting to get

Shea. As much as it felt good to hear someone say that to him and mean it, especially Jace, it still hurt. Because Jace didn't know him. Yeah he knew the mistake he made with the knife. But he didn't know nearly enough of his life leading up to that moment. "You like the idea of who I'm trying to be."

Jace "Or maybe I like the person I was getting to know." Jace replied, sighing to himself as he turned back on his side and faced the wall, letting his eyes close as he tried to just collect his own thoughts.

Shea. He sighed to himself. "I'm trying so hard, Jace," He said. He was now looking at his back.

Jace "Yeah because you want to better yourself. But you're not doing it for me. You're doing it for yourself." He admitted, taking a deep breath before turning to look at him again. "Just the time spent with you, I couldn't help how i felt." He shrugged. "But i kept it to myself because i didn't want to make you uncomfy or make you feel like i was constantly trying to come on to you. The times I did, you literally shut it down so I just stopped trying."

Shea. "I don't understand... that's supposed to be a good thing right?" He said. He watched Jace turn back over, and Shea shifted to prop his head up on his elbow. "I never thought you would try to keep coming onto me," he said. "That's not why I shut it down."

Jace "I never said it was a bad thing." He shrugged and then sighed as he looked up at him. "Yeah but if you put yourself in my shoes, you shutting it down as many times as you did, it's only fair that I stop myself before i liked you even more. I was protecting myself."

Shea. He was quiet now, for a long moment. It felt like forever while he tried to think of something to say other than he knew. But that’s what came out anyway, “yeah, I know. I get it.”

Jace Jace just scanned over Shea's face before rolling over on his  and staring up at the ceiling as his arm laid pressed behind his head. "okay." he breathed out, chewing his bottom lip as he just got lost in his own head.

Shea. “what are you thinking about?” He asked Jace. He meant besides the obvious.

Jace "Just everything." He shrugged. "Nothing crazy important." He said, turning to look at shea and giving him a half-hearted smile. "I'm just glad I can be here."

Shea. “Me too,” he replied. He dropped his head and let it rest on his arm now. “I’m sorry about fighting you... in the stairwell. I know I already apologized but I just want to say it again.”

Jace “it’s okay.” He responded, looking over at Shea and giving him a even more gentle smile. “I’m just glad you did. It’s all good.”

Shea. “Can we just ... go slow,” he said. He didn’t even know where that came from. It just came out. But he meant it. They weren’t exactly talking about them and whatever their relationship was at the moment.

Jace “whatever pace you want.” Jace shrugged, knowing they weren’t even officially doing anything but he was content if that’s what shea wanted to be one day. “It’s probably for the best since i just got out of something anyways.” He added.

Shea. “Yeah, it’s better that day,” he said. “I’m sorry about Loren.” He added. “When you wanna talk about it, I’m here.”

Jace “thank you.” He said, taking a deep breath as he felt the build up of tears again. “I’m good for now though”

Shea. “Okay,” Shea nodded a little. He could avoid that subject until it wasn’t sensitive. “Are you tired?”

Jace “of being emotional? Yes.” He snickered. “And yes I’m tired but....not sure if I’m ready to sleep”

Shea. He couldnt help but laugh a little. “Okay, yeah... same.” He replied. He didn’t mean it that way but it was relatable. “I thought I was ready too, but I did sleep through the night and all morning.”

Jace “I’m just good to lay here in silence.” He shrugged. “Or lay like we were...” he said to him truthfully as he turned to look at him. “That was nice.”

Shea. “like we were?” He asked. But that was a dumb question. Shea moved to get comfortable and closer to Jace again. “You’re the one that turned over.”

Jace he laughed “I move a lot. I’m sorry.” He said, facing shea and smiling. “You really are so handsome. I hope you know.”

Shea. Shea reached over and pulled Jace closer. “Well I sleep like a rock,” he said. “Even with a black eye?” He asked, even though it was healing mostly by now.

Jace “I mean once I’m asleep, that’s a different story”. He assured him and then nodded. “Yes, even with a black eye.” He smiled, running his thumb over the area, gently

Shea. It didn’t hurt much anymore to touch his eye, so he let Jace touch him. He slowly offered a small half smile. “I think Im going to keep working for khai for now,” he told him honestly.

Jace “i think that would be a great idea.” He told him, slowly bringing his hand back into his own chest and looking at Shea. “Is he gonna pay you that much every time though?”

Shea. “I told him I want a steady job,” he said. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to be sharing this so it’s between you and me, but I think he’s going to open a restaurant. I told him I want a real job there.”

Jace “he actually did tell me that!” Jace said happily. “I think that would be a great job for you, baby”

Shea. “I’ve been looking so hard for jobs,” he admitted. “No one wants to hire someone fresh out of jail.... and on bail for that matter.”

Jace “well actually working for Khai will be good for you.” He smiled, placing his hand over Shea’s. “It’ll be a good start”

Shea. He slowly took in a breath and let it out slowly, “yeah.” She’s so badly didn’t want to accept Khai’s hand out jobs. But it was all he had right now. It was something. Shea had to accept that.

Jace he could tell this wasn’t something shea wanted to do. But it would be good for him. Squeezing his hand, he gave him a half smile and closed his eyes for a moment

Shea. Eventually Shea tucked his head down again and rested his cheek ontop of their hands. “Is he going to tell you everytime he pays me?”

Jace “Eh I doubt that.” He snickered, using his index finger to stroke Shea’s cheek. “I just needed to make sure you were okay.”

Shea. “I’ll be okay,” he said. “I’m still alive aren’t I?”

Jace “thank god.” He breathed out, bringing their hands to his mouth and kissing the back of Shea’s hand, smiling against it

Shea. He watched Jace kiss his hand. It was a little more soothing than he expected such a small act to be. He smiled a little bit.

Jace he looked up at Shea, smiling right back at him. He didn’t even really know what else to do, scooting in even closer as he pressed his forehead to the others

Shea. He blinked, his heart beat spiking at the same time when Jace got closer to press his forehead to Shea’s. Shea normally felt calm around him but it was a whole different playing field when he did things like this. Not that they’d ever been this close face to face before.

Jace he knew this was new for shea but he didn’t dare move. He kept his head locked in place, kissing the back of Shea’s hand once more as he kept his eyes completely shut

Shea. Shea didn’t move away. There was a whole mixture of emotions swirling through him. Did he wanna throw up? Or was that just that weird adrenaline rush in his stomach? Or maybe he wanted to cry. He really couldn’t get it under control so he just laid there quietly close to jace, because despite the confusion, he knew he didn’t actually want to move. Eventually he let his eyes close and whispered, “this is better than jail.”

Jace “if you feel trapped....just tell me.” He finally said, still lying there as still as he could

Shea. “No I don’t feel trapped,” he assured him.

Jace he nodded, scared to take this any further. He was so afraid to put him in a bad position. Or an awkward one. That wasn’t who he was

Shea. Started to feel relaxed after a few more moments, his eyes still closed. He pulled the covers up over his shoulders, and moved his free hand to drape over Jace’s side. He could definitely fall asleep like this and be content.

Jace he pulled shea over and into his chest, kissing the top of his head as they both lied there for a moment, his eyes still closed, just taking him in.

[1rosex]

Hyung Line reaction to breaking up with s/o and regretting it

Request: Heyo can I get a hyung line reaction to they get so angry or smth and they break up with you? But they didn't mean it and regret it? Thanks for the angst fam keep up the good work

{Maknae Line}

Masterlist

Jin

You were both in a heated argument that had stemmed from Jin's recent behavior. You figured it was stress. You didn't see Jin at all for weeks since he'd been touring, but of course you knew that he couldn't always be around so you weren't blaming him for it. But now you were fighting, you don't even know how it started. One minute you'd been telling Jin you missed him, the next angry he'd snapped at you, and now both of you at each others throats.

"Stop! Just stop!" You yelled out. "I didnt mean to make you angry! I know you cant always be around, I get it!" You were trying to kill the fight, trying to bring Jin back to his senses. But his anger piled on top of each other, letting all of frustration spill into this single argument.

"No! Its not just today, it's every day Y/N!" Jin turned to you, you could nearly see him radiating with anger. "Always complaining about how tired you are, how lonely you are, how much work you have, how sad you are, its always about you! Don't you think I struggle too? I've got a whole band to worry about!" His eyes were two burning coals in which you'd once seen love. You were too afraid to speak at this point, you'd never seen him so angry it was unlike anything he'd done before.

"Well I'm done, done with it, done with you! Get out." The coals were boring into you willing you snap under his gaze, his voice circling the room. You didn't move. "Jin.."

"I SAID GET OUT." The rage exploded back at you, like the flame had subsided only to bite back stronger than the last time. You were moving, running for the door with hot tears running down your face. Jin watched, watched you run from the room with his own tears appearing. All at once, the anger was gone. And so were you. He tried to process what he'd just said to you, his throat dry from the hurtful yells that had just escaped it seconds ago. He couldn't believe he'd actually said that to you. Jin shut down for a while after that, he spent the rest of the day in quiet silence knowing what he'd done was not something to be easily forgiven.

You had left him, staying up at night wondering what you'd done wrong. Was that it? Was he serious? Would he come looking for you? You couldn't tell, you didn't know, told yourself you didn't care. You let it be as you fell asleep.

Two days, two days later you woke up early morning to hear a knock at the door. No news from Jin, he had basically broken up with you so you didn't expect any. Tired, confused, you got to your feet and headed downstairs. You opened the door wondering who could possibly be there so early, only to see Jin standing on the other side.

"Y/N- wait don't close the door!" His hand extended, keeping you from slamming the door in his face. "Please hear me out."

You stood on the other side, your arms crossed. Jin felt like your eyes were prying at at his insides, reading all of his inner thoughts before he even said them. He swallowed, the angry Jin you'd seen days ago was no where to be seen.

"That was dumb. Me, I was dumb. What I said, I thought it was true when I said it. But its not. You dont make it all about yourself, you try to distract me. Try to make me feel better, and up until now I didnt realize you actually were making me feel better." It was quiet after Jin said, you thinking over his words and him waiting for you to say something. Nothing came. "Y/N?"

You opened the door a little wider, how could you ever get rid of him? You couldn't. "Come inside Jin, its cold outside."

"..Thank you. For not hating me."

Namjoon

It had all gone down so fast. One minute you were on the couch curled up on Namjoon's side, and the next you had pulled you like he'd just burnt you. Now you two were staring at each other, tension between your two bodies rising, the universe holding its breath waiting for one of you to make a move.

"What did you say?" You asked him.

"I said.. We should break up." Namjoon looked on edge, like he was saying something he wasn't so sure about.

"Why.." It came out as a breathy whisper, hard to talk when it feels like someone is crushing the air from your lungs.

"I don't have time. You deserve someone who can be there for you for all those special moments. Not someone who's always on tour." You could see the struggle in Namjoon's eyes telling you this. You nodded with understatement, and that was the last time you'd spent with him.

It'd been two weeks, two whole weeks that felt like they were the most difficult and lonely fourteen days you'd had in a long time. You were out at the store with a friend of yours, a guy you'd known for a long time who had come to comfort you. Namjoon saw you shopping with him, and the regret of leaving you built up too much to handle. Before you knew it, you'd been pulled off to the side by someone, and you were about to attack the intruder until you realized who it was.

"Namjoon?" You asked, surprised.

"Y/N." Namjoon fumbled for his words. "I'm sorry.. I don't know why I uh.. Who's that friend?"

You were suddenly angry at him, how could he just show up in your life like that again. How could he be talking to you like he hadn't left you feeling miserable. "Its no one. And last time I checked, neither are you." You made an effort to walk past him, but his hands were suddenly pulling you back. This time they were more desperate, needy and his eyes were brimmed with pain manifesting itself into tears.

"Y/N please. I know what I said and I've laid awake these past few weeks cursing myself for being a fucking idiot because I love you and I can't believe I thought letting you go was ever a good idea because I've been nothing but sad since then." Namjoon's words were a blur, and you didn't know when it happened, but you'd started crying too. "Please don't hate me." He lowered his head, you could see his hair looked ruffled and unwashed like he hadn't been caring for himself much. You wondered if he still used the same coconut shampoo, remembering how it smelled those mornings you woke up besides him.

"You really fucked up." You said.

"I know." He answered.

You were quiet, as much as you wanted to walk away from him you knew you couldn't. He meant the whole universe to you and you'd be damned if you lost your favorite planet. "I forgive you Namjoon."

"You.. You forgive me? Are you serious?"

"What do you want me to take it back?"

"NO! No! ... Thank you Y/N."

Yoongi

Why was Yoongi so angry? You didn't understand. You had noticed that he had been drawing back a lot lately, disappearing into his studio without saying much to you. At first you figured it was stress, but you seen realized it wasn't. It was different, he was emotionally distant. When you'd gone to confront him, Yoongi had started to snap at you.

"Stop!" You yelled. "Please, stop pushing me away. Why do you do that? Why can't you let me help?" You were urging him, hoping he could just lower his defenses and talk to you. But your words had lit another match at the back of his mind, and now he was firing more hurtful words back at you. "Why can't you just leave me alone?" He spat right back at you.

"Because I care about you! But it seems like you don't care about me. If you did you wouldn't do this. You.. You make me want to leave you!" Your voice swelled with pain, but Yoongi didn't even flinch.

"Go ahead then, what's stopping you? Go! I dont want you anymore, I don't want us anymore, I am so sick of you acting like you know everything, like you own me! So just get out already!" Hot tears were running down your face, had he just broken up with you?

"Are you crying? Seriously? Cut it out!" Yoongi didn't realize he wasn't yelling at you, he was yelling at himself. How could be be yelling at you for crying? He wanted to tell himself to shut up, to stop talking and apologize, but he had crossed the line of no return a long time ago.

"Do you think I want to cry?!" You suddenly yelled, knocking over a book when you flung your hands up defensively. Your anger competed with Yoongi's, who was not used to being the one being yelled at. He went quiet, he knew that he had really messed up, but the word 'sorry' had completely left his mind in the heat of the moment.

"I don't.. I don't want to see you. Not tonight, not tomorrow. Just let me be this time, Min Yoongi." And just like that, you were grabbing your coat and leaving. Yoongi could only watch you, wanting to follow but his feet were nailed to the floor. When he heard the door slam and the last trace of you was gone, Yoongi cried and fell back into his chair. Regret gnawed away at him, like a beast that had taken residence in his stomach the moment he'd decided to yell at you.

Yoongi didn't come to you that day. Or the day after that. But the day after that..You were curled up on the couch, staring blankly at the television when the doorbell rung. You brought the controller up to the screen and paused the movie, then got up to answer the door. Yoongi was on the other side.

"I brought you some dumb flowers. I know you like the purple ones, the ones with the white insides. But they were out." Yoongi's eyes were anywhere but your own, knowing he couldn't even look you in the face after what had happened.

"So I got you more flowers than usual, even though I know they can't possibly make up for my stupid words. Nothing really can." Yoongi was standing so truthfully in front of you, you know you should be angry. You should be telling him to leave, asking him if that was the best he had. Telling him to get out just as he'd told you. But you couldn't, not when you saw the tears that were building up behind his hard stare.

"I'm sorry Y/N. Im such an idiot. Please just tell me you dont hate me, tell me that's it's okay." 

J-Hope

You'd come to the building with a gym bag containing some extra clothes, Hoseok had called you over when he forgot it at home. You stopped in front of the practice room door and raised your hand to the doorknob. You froze when you heard your name from the other wide of the door, a small smile appearing on your face when you recognized that the voice belonged to Hoseok. You didn't mean to eavesdrop, you just wanted to hear what he'd said. You wished you hadn't.

"It's annoying. I wish Y/N could back off, I know she means well but sometimes I just want to shove her out of the room and tell her to let me be."

"Well, that's a little harsh hyung." Jungkook's voice, by the sound of it.

"I know, which is why I don't. But its hard, she's just a burden at times like this when I'm so stressed. It's like dating her adds too much unnecessary pressure."

The door made a loud clicking noise as you opened it, and the look on your face told the boys that you'd heard every word they'd said.

"Glad to know you feel that way. You know what might help? Having no girlfriend at all." You dropped the bag onto the floor, gave him a cold stare and left the practice room. You drowned out the sound of his voice, calling your name but this time calling for it to stay. Instead, you ran.

He stopped trying to call you after the third day of no response. No texts from you, no calls from you, Hoseok had began to think you'd disappeared off the face of the earth. You woke up one night to the sound of rasping on the window, crawling out of bed with a flashlight you were ready to swing as a weapon if needed be. You grabbed onto the ridge of your bedroom window, took a deep breath, and threw it open while readying yourself to swing. There was a scream from the intruder, and you almost screamed too until you recognized the voice.

"Hobi?! What the hell?" You sighed, releasing the fear that had just shook your body as you lowered the flashlight. Hoseok used to crawl on the roof when you were together, he used to say it was a romantic cliche thing to do. Till he stopped doing it the day he nearly fell off. Now he was back up on the roof in the middle of the night, giving you a sheepish smile. And a heart attack.

"I know you don't want to see me."

"You're right."

"But you have to hear me out. Please."

"No I don't." You tried to close the window but Hoseok yelped and stopped it.

"Y/N please! I'm sorry!" You paused, listening as he went on. "What I said, I was being dumb. You don't annoy me! You encourage me to be better, you push me forward, you help me relax and be happy, you stop me from doing dumb things!"

You couldn't help but smile, just a little. "I obviously couldn't stop you from getting up onto the roof huh." You didn't know why, but you weren't angry as you thought you'd be. I mean sure, a part of you wanted to shove him off the roof, but you couldn't be angry when you'd loved Hoseok so much. When you loved Hoseok still. And now he was smiling at your joke again, a smile that seemed to return the sun itself back into your solar system.

" I haven't stopped beating myself up about since the day it happened. Please forgive me for any pain I caused Y/N.."

[bannerswife]

Freaks - Bruce Banner x Reader

Title: Freaks

Pairing: Bruce Banner x Reader (female)

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1627

Requested by @headcannonqueen​ 

“Hey plz can you do a bruce banner x reader where the reader is a artist and has the power of shapeshifing and she s talking to natasha and wanda about something and he was listening in idk 😂Am really bad at this but i havent found a good bruce one in ages that i havnt allready read. I have tried to write one myself but didnt work very good . xxxxx thanx Keira”

Authors Note: Alright soo i hope this is what you were looking for! i really hope you like it! <3

You drew your hand aimlessly across a canvas creating yet another beautiful work of art. You always loved to draw and paint, it was a way of expressing how you felt without any need of communication and to let your mind completely loose. Tony appreciated your work that much he had even given you your own work space, where you had everything you had ever wished for when it came to utensils for your work.

You hadn’t been with the avengers for long but with the time you’ve spent with them, it had honestly been the best months of your life. Though you weren't like others, you had a type of power that would make you considered to be a freak. You had possessed the ability to shapeshift into any person you desired.

On a mission, the avengers had found you and gladly took you in under their wing, especially Doctor Banner. You were quiet and very reserved when you had first met them, afraid that you were nothing but of a nuisance to them all. But Bruce helped you and spoke to you in ways that no one has ever treated you like before. It was something that truly did set off a feeling in the pit of your stomach that you had never felt before.

“My god y/n, this is amazing.” You heard Wanda from behind, making you jump in fright causing you to change forms.

At first Wanda was taken aback at your sudden change of appearance, but quickly you changed back into your desired look, your cheeks flushing a bright red.

“I’m- uh sorry about that, you scared me... but thank you,” You said with a slight smile, as you took down your canvas from the easel to replace it with another empty canvas to start yet a new project.

“No don't be sorry, i was the one that came in without knocking, which for that i’m sorry,” Wanda reassured as she walked over to the large table in the middle of your workshop that was covered in all of your paintings.

She impressively looked over them all a smile across her lips. Everything you had painted truly were remarkable, each telling their own story. Expressing different emotions and personas.

“Hey girls,” Natasha greeted as she suddenly walked into your workshop.

“Hi,” Wanda and you both said in unison looking up at her as she strided in.

“I was getting sick of everyone out there so i hope you don't mind if i hang with you guys?” Nat suggested as she took a seat at the large table that Wanda was just previously observing.

“No of course not, i’m actually glad you two came in. I was honestly kinda getting bored on my own to be honest,” You said, as you again absentmindedly began to draw your brush across the board.

It was then Natasha’s turn to admire your amazing work, a bright smile came across her face as she reached a certain piece of work.

“What’s this one of y/n?” Nat asked, as she held up the canvas to show you.

Your eyes grew wide and your cheeks flushed red, quickly you ran over to Nat and snatched the art work off her.

It was a painting of Bruce with the hulk standing tall above him, it truly was beautiful, as it was filled with all types of different greens across the canvas.

“I don't see any other fanart of us, care to explain?” She questioned, while Wanda sat next to her, her too with a growing smile over her face.

You held the piece of work close to your chest, as you rocked back and forth not knowing what to say.

“You like him, dont you?” Wanda inquired.

You didn't have to be a mind reader to know that you liked Bruce. From the moment you had met him you started falling for the scientist. Though you knew you’d never even have a chance to be with him. Sure the two of you were close friends but that was it, nothing more. And that sure did break you.

“Yeah, yeah i do. But i will never even have a chance with him, you know how he is. And besides, im a shape shifting freak.” You sighed, placing the canvas in a draw so no one else would find out, if they didn't already notice.

“And he turns into an enormous green rage monster, so? Have you seen the way he looks at you or anything else he does around you? He is head over heels in love with you!” Natasha addressed, making you softly smile at even imaging a chance with Bruce.

“Still- I don't know, don’t you girls have any love interests at the moment since we’re sharing?” You asked facing the two girls behind you, wanting to change the topic from yourself.

“Uh yeah no,” Natasha laughed as she put her feet up on the table, careful not to knock your work.

“What so not even the super soldier Steve?” Quickly you changed into Cap, in his full uniform, putting your hands on your hips in a proud looking stance.

“Aren’t i just everything you want in a man? Strong, handsome and courageous?” You said, making the girls laugh and soon after you join them, changing back into your normal appearance.

“I’m sorry that was rude,” You apologised after recollecting yourself, instantly feeling bad for mocking the avenger, going back to your work.

“No, no it was great actually. You nailed it.” Wanda commented, still trying to collect herself from her fit of laughter.

You found yourself again painting yet another picture of Bruce, you hadn’t even meant to. You smiled upon it looking at the bright greens that covered the canvas once again.

“What about you Wanda, anyone you’re crushing on like y/n over here?” Natasha asked, looking at the beautiful young woman on her left.

“No, no one here really appeals to me to be quite honest,” She replied as she fiddled with her long brunette locks.

“Hey, i thought you might want something like me? I’m- what was it? Oh yeah that's right- a genius, billionaire, playboy and philanthropist.” You spun back around changed into nonetheless, Tony Stark.

Again the room was filled with laughter, hardly anyone able to hold back their fit.

“Now that im not sorry for,” You cackled, before turning once again back to your art, changing to normal.

“Well I’d love to stay and chat but i’ve got to go, sorry girls” Natasha said, with a huff. Wanda too had to go as well, just as they went to leave they saw Bruce standing in the doorway.

“Bruce? What are you doing here?” Nat commented, her eyebrows furrowing, a slight smile spreading back across her lips.

Bruce looked flustered and completely confused. You quickly looked back upon hearing his name, butterflies now forming in your stomach. He hadn't been standing there that whole time without anyone noticing had he?

“I-uh-um, I’m sorry i- i didn't mean to pry but i came to talk to y/n but i-” Bruce stumbled upon his words, completely at loss because 1. He had just been caught snooping and 2. He found out you had feelings for him.

“You listened to our whole conversation, didn’t you?” Wanda interrupted, as the two girls put there hands upon their hips a playful smirk on their lips.

Bruce looked back and forth between the two girls, shoving his hands into his pockets before responding with only a slight defeated nod.

Your eyes widened and again your cheeks flushed. The room suddenly becoming an extra 10 degrees hotter as you felt your heart leap into your throat.

“Well, we’ll leave you two together to do some explaining,” And with that, you were left alone with the man you had yearned for from day one.

“Like i said, I’m sorry, i didn't mean to eavesdrop its just i heard-”

“It’s fine, Bruce. Listen, i’ve been wanting to tell you for ages how i felt about you but i just hadn’t known how to or if you even felt the same way,” You begun, as you slowly walked over to the scientist.

“And i'm fine if you don't, of course, i understand. These past months have been amazing and having you by my side is everything i've needed, you have no idea. I honestly don't know what i would have done without you.” You rambled, Bruce looking into your beautiful glowing e/c eyes.

“I’m sorry, i probably sound like an idiot.” You laughed covering your face with your hands in embarrassment.

Bruce chuckled, softly taking your hands away from your face and holding them now in his hands.

“You know, i’ve felt things with you that i’ve never felt with anyone else before. I could barely even put my head around it. But i finally began to understand and what i was feeling-” Bruce looked down laughing at himself, he couldn't believe what he was just about to confess. It was as if it was all some dream.

“I- I love you y/n.” He confessed before cupping a hand over your flushed cheek.

You brightly smiled, placing your hand on top of his, over your cheek. Leaning into his large callused hand.

“And i love you, Bruce,”

Suddenly Bruce softly placed his lips onto yours, it wasn't much but it was everything you had dreamed of. The soft touch of his lips on yours made you want to melt right there and then, it felt as though everything in the world didn't matter anymore.

The two of you pulled back, your foreheads resting on each other’s before Bruce spoke up.

“And i guess that means we can both be freaks together,”

[the-whims-of-fate]

A Sunrise After 1001 Nights (Chapter 1)

Under normal circumstances, my confidence in my writing abilities (or lack thereof) would only really allow me to write Headcanon Posts and things like that. However, after reading a certain FilthyFateConfessions Post and some gushing in Discord over Servants who deserve the world and then some, I decided to begin writing this fanfic. As such, I thought it’d be appropriate to at least release one chapter considering what day it is. If you guys like it, hate it, or have any sort of comments to make, please send them in. In the meantime, enjoy :)

Once more, the blinding light of the Servant Summon faded. By now, you were somewhat used to it. You had summoned countless Servants throughout your time spent in Chaldea. However there was always that initial flash that caught you somewhat off guard.

Before the light faded completely, a voice called out to you, one that didn’t belong to any servant that had already occupied Chaldea.

“My name is Scheherazade.” A figure emerged from the blinding light, a rather skimpy white and blue outfit clung to her richly toned skin, while a staff with a lantern at the head was held in one hand and a sealed scroll in the other. Her words were oddly clear through the veil that covered the majority of her face. “If you but listen to my one wish, I shall serve you forever as though you were my king”.

In that moment, you were taken aback by the sight before you many times over. “What’s going on?” “King? Hardly any of the other Servants were so forward initially?” “Why does her outfit cover so little? Should I grab her a blanket or something?” These were only a few of the many questions that had begun bouncing around your head after an alarmingly short amount of time.

“You are my master, correct?”

The soft voice of the newly summoned Servant cut off your already derailed train of thought. After taking a moment to correct yourself, you addressed her, thanking the Throne of Heroes that the veil made it easier to maintain eye contact. “Yeah. Sorry about that. My name is Gudao.” Quickly taking note of the politeness in her speech, you extended your hand in greeting, attempting to follow suit. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

She hesitated initially, but after what you could only guess was her having realized the genuineness of your greeting, she returned the gesture. Immediately you could feel the warm sensation that her touch provided, yet at the same time you could feel an ever so slight trembling. “Is she afraid?” The thought had briefly crossed your mind before you realized that the handshake had begun to last slightly longer than many would probably be comfortable with.

“Anyway,” you began, finally breaking the handshake, “There’s no real need to be very formal here. I’ll explain why during the tour.”

“Tour?” Her voice conveying any confusion that her veil attempted to hide.

You nodded as you opened the door of the Summoning Room. With the mindset that it would be easier to show rather than tell, you led her into the halls of Chaldea.

To say that Scheherazade was caught off guard by all the Servants they passed was an understatement, not that this was very surprising. Chaldea was likely the first instance where more than 7 Servants were summoned at once outside of the fourteen that took part in The Great Holy Grail War, yet she had been greeted by at least that many Servants within the first ten minutes of the tour. Thankfully, she was largely welcomed with open arms by the initial greeting party of Jeanne, Marie, Nitocris, and several others. Blackbeard almost got a word in, but found himself on the receiving end of a boot to the rear from Drake before any sort of comment was made, which you made a mental note to thank her for later.

Eventually, the crowd dissipated. It was nice to see so many people welcome the Caster with such enthusiasm. Yet, despite all of that, you couldn’t help but notice the traces of discomfort that her veil failed to hide. “I take it it’s a lot to process at once, huh?”

“Yes,” Scheherazade admitted. “I’m used to seeing other Servants as enemies, but… Never did I expect them to be so welcoming of me.”

“That makes sense,” you replied. “While I admit that there are a lot of Servants here, I feel like this place has become more of a community than anything else. Granted, we have our occasional disputes from time to time, but largely everyone gets along just fine.”

The storyteller nodded. You weren’t sure how effective your words were at easing her discomfort, but you could see that at least some of the worry had departed from her expression. “Everything at its own pace, I guess.”

By now you had given everyone a rough tour of the facility, so your explanations had become somewhat streamlined over the time spent here, so with the gaps of time between rooms you decided to ask the Caster about something that had begun to nag at you since the summon.

“If you don’t mind my asking, you said you had a wish that you wanted granted. Is there by chance anything I can do to help or is this something for the Holy Grail to fulfill?”

Immediately her expression, or what you could see of it given the veil, changed from that of curiosity for the situation that she was brought into, to what you could only describe as a sense of eagerness. Like she just remembered an extremely vital piece of information. “Indeed. While I’m unsure if the Grail will be necessary for it given the circumstances, my only wish is that I may live.”

“As in reincarnation? Because while you’re certainly able to maintain your physical form for however long you want while you’re here, I’d probably need to use a Grail to fully reincarnate you.”

“Not necessarily,” she replied. “I am the author of what you may know as the One Thousand and One Nights. While the stories themselves have gained enough fame for me to become a Servant, I originally wrote them as a means to save myself and my sister from our king. And so, my only wish is that my life would be spared.”

Immediately you paused. There you stood, in the middle of the hall with the realization of the potential wounds you opened up, and towards a newly summoned Servant no less. Scheherazade had only taken a couple steps before turning around, realizing that you had stopped.

“I’m really sorry,” you blurted out. “I should be used to talking to Servants by now, but here I am asking about things I have no right to pry into.”

Your eyes had closed as though to anticipate anything from hurt or anger in her reply, but a warm hand on your shoulder prompted you to open them. The storyteller was standing before you, the veil on her face faintly outlining a smile. “Do not worry. You’re my master. It is only fair to want to know more about me, even if the details aren’t very cheerful.”

Her words sent waves of reassurance through you, as if to replace any sort of lingering guilt within you. “Alright. Let’s continue then. The only two places that should be left are the newly appointed ‘Media Room’, aka ‘Doctor Romani’s Netflix Hideaway’, and my own room.”

Not even thirty feet away from the Media Room, a booming voice erupted from within. “Come now, Goldy!!! Why must you be such a poor sport?!?”

“As I have told you before, the matter lies in that your controller has a much different arrangement than my own. As such, it can hardly be called a fair competition with you using that hulking thing in your lap to control your character while I am forced to use a common remote.”

Hearing the two Servant’s bicker in the nearby room made it plainly obvious who was present within, but realizing the potential powderkeg that their unattended interactions tended to become, you quickened your pace. “I know I said he could use my console during his times off, but why did he have to play with Gilgamesh of all people?”

Sure enough, when you opened the door, there sat Iskandar and Gilgamesh, mid-argument, their forms silhouetted by the light of the TV Screen. “Geez you two. At the very least you could’ve turned on the lights” you interrupted, desperate to say something, anything, to momentarily distract them from their competitive streaks. As you flipped the switch, both the light in the room and the metaphorical light bulb above their heads lit up.

“Young Gudao!!!” the King of Conquerors exclaimed excitedly. “Join us. We just finished a match in this Street Fighter game that that Romani fellow recommended. Besides, Goldy doesn’t sound like he wants to play much more anyway.”

Gilgamesh scoffed. “This controller of mine has too many small buttons. Not only does this fool have a larger controller, but the buttons are arranged much more conveniently.”

“You don’t say,” you began, the sarcasm in your voice almost tangible. “Even in a closed room, the two of you have an uncanny ability to make your presences known. I’m just glad I got here before weapons were drawn...”

“Come now,” Iskandar reassured. “We would never have gone that far.” You could only shake your head at this, knowing full well that they definitely would have.

Keeping in mind that the two of these heroes could bring down the entirety of Chaldea if they fought, you decided that the best course of action would be to at least try to sort this out. With a somewhat exasperated sigh, you turned to the Archer. “Gilgamesh, you’re right that Iskandar’s controller makes the game easier for him, but look at him.” You gestured to his hulking frame and massive hands. “With his strength, he would crush a regular controller accidentally, and Waiver can vouch for me on that.”

The King of Heroes scoffed. He was pleased to hear that someone else agreed that he was right, but the fact that his master had also justified the actions of the other Servant left him feeling as though the words were empty. Meanwhile Iskandar let out a light chuckle at the last remark, likely thinking back to a situation similar to the one that you had just described.

“Here,” you began, taking the controller that Gilgamesh had set to the side. Immediately, you brought the game to the character select screen and put his cursor onto the Random Character Selection. “Both of you keep your characters set to ‘Random’. That way, no one knows the controls for or gets overly familiar with one character.”

“I suppose that works.”

“Very well. I can agree to those terms. By the way master. That woman by the doorway. How long does she intend to stay there?”

Turning around, you saw that Scheherazade had followed you to the room, but instead of entering, she had partially hidden herself, minus her head peeking out from the doorframe. “Um… Scheherazade? You can come in if you want.”

“Indeed!!! Please, join us!!!”

Hesitantly, Scheherazade moved out of her makeshift hiding spot and entered the room. However, after shuffling about three feet past the doorway, she stopped, her uneasiness clearly portrayed despite the veil.

“Actually, I just summoned her not too long ago and I thought I’d give her a small tour. Do you mind if we...”

“Ah, of course!!! Please, carry on. There will be plenty of time for games like these later. In the meantime, should you run into Waiver, ask if he’d stop by. We didn’t make much progress in our last game of Admirable Conquests and I was thinking it’d be good to make up for lost ground.”

“Hmph. Such is the way of the conqueror, I suppose,” Gilgamesh chuckled, his amusement in Iskandar’s behavior obvious.

“But of course!!!”

You nodded, offering a final wave as you exited the room. As you left, Scheherazade followed, her pace quickening. The last place left on the tour was your room, a fact that seemed to fill her with what you could only guess was relief. “Is everything okay? I understand not being comfortable around Gilgamesh. To be honest, none of us are a hundred percent comfortable around him, with the exception of Enkidu of course, but...”

“I’m sorry,” she began. “I should have told you earlier.” After taking a moment to fully compose herself, she continued. “Remember how I said that my stories were a means to save me and my sister? Well, I believe that has caused a warryness of kingly figures to be imprinted upon me as a Servant.”

Thinking about it now, that was probably the most likely explanation. Many Servants tend to hold closely to the behaviors portrayed in their legend, so something like that wouldn’t be too far fetched. Hoping to put her at ease to an extent, you began to put your thoughts to words. “If that’s the case, then maybe it’s just a matter of getting used to them, and even if it isn’t, there are plenty of non-kingly Servants here at Chaldea.”

Scheherazade nodded. You could tell, while not completely put at ease by your words, she at least saw the intention behind them. The rest of the walk was relatively quiet, with the exception of the occasional Servant stopping to greet them. When the two of you entered the empty dorm, the storyteller breathed what you could only guess was a sigh of relief.

“Note to self,” you began in a somewhat joking manner. “Find a way to make that tour either shorter or more interesting.”

“Oh, no. The tour was fine, Master,” Scheherazade began, her tone becoming increasingly apologetic. “It’s just that...” She paused for a moment, as though trying to find the right words. “Are you familiar with the saying ‘the right person for the right place’?”

You thought for a moment, then nodded, having heard similar phrases in the past and ultimately understanding this one’s meaning by comparison.

“Well… A warrior belongs on the battlefield. However, I believe that the bedside of my king, or in this case, the one to whom I am pledged is...”

In the resulting silence, you took a moment to think over her words, using all your willpower to avoid focusing on any sort of implications that may have arisen from her statement. “If you believe that this is the best place for you to be, then I can work with that. Bedivere was originally using the guest bed, but I don’t think he’d mind staying with the rest of the Knights of The Round Table. I do have a couple requests though.”

“Of course,” the Caster replied, taking a seat on the bed opposite of you. Her voice betrayed a hint of excitement at the news.

“The first request, I’m afraid, is somewhat non-negotiable,” you began. “I intended to bring this up during the tour, but I got understandably distracted. The thing is that all Servants are required to spend at least a bit of time on missions on the field. It’s something of a fairness measure in order to avoid favoritism.”

Scheherazade’s excitement began to shift into a look of worry, but you wouldn’t let it stay that way for long.

“However, given your circumstances, I will do everything in my power to make sure that you don’t have to lift so much as a finger. The “system” requires you to be present at these battles, but if I put together a suitable group to manage the combat, you can stay with me at the rear. We also have a system in place for strengthening Servants, so should that even prove to be not enough, you’ll be able to hold your own more effectively. Then once that’s done, you’ll never have to go on another mission for however long our contract binds us.”

The storyteller, while not completely reassured, visibly displayed an at least partial alleviation of her worry. “I am your Servant. As such, if you believe that this is the best course of action, and as long as you do not seek to kill me, then I will follow you… my king.”

That last part was just barely a whisper, but you could still grasp its meaning. However, you chose to put that thought to the side for the time being, as there was one more thing you wished to ask her.

“My second and final request should be a bit easier. While I have agreed that you can stay with me here, I don’t want you to isolate yourself. It doesn’t have to be much, but please spend some time out and about around Chaldea. Like I said earlier, this place has become more of a community than I think many would’ve thought it could, and I think you might grow to like it if you gave yourself the chance to.”

Scheherazade nodded. It was easy for her to see that this wasn’t a formality or a requirement for her. Rather, her master was looking out for her own well being. “Very well.”

Satisfied with her reply, you laid back in your bed. However, it wasn’t long before you realized that you had made a crucial error. “Oh crap!! I need to find Bedivere. I mean, I feel like he’d understand, but if he had come back before I explained the situation to him, I can only imagine how rude he would’ve thought all of this was.” You leapt from your bed to the door with surprising speed, but stopped just as quickly when you remembered your guest.

Before you could get a word out, Scheherazade spoke, as if anticipating your intentions. “Go ahead. I’d like to take a bit to better acclimate myself to this place, especially if I wish to stay here.” You wanted to argue with her, but you quickly remembered the rush you were in and left the Caster to her own devices.

With a moment of peace now hers, Scheherazade began to look through her scrolls to find a suitable story for her new master. As she did this, she offered a silent prayer in thanks to whatever deity was listening for her newfound circumstances and for her kind new Master.

Meanwhile, Ishtar, who just happened to be a couple rooms away at the time, let out a quiet sneeze.

[i-am-me-deal-with-it]

I am Demi

let me explain.

i am Demi. meaning that I am both Demisexual, and Demiromantic.

I've heard it said many times that it's hard to realize that you are asexual. and I wholeheartedly agree. Demisexuality is a subset of asexuality. those who identify as demisexual experience little to no sexual attraction, or if they do it's only after a strong emotional bond has formed, such as being friends with someone for a long time, or possibly going through a emotionally bonding experience. demiromantic is the same principle except when it says “sexual attraction” change it to “romantic interest”

it took me months and months and years to realize that I was demi. and even now I look at myself and worry at night that im just broken.

i never had many friends growing up, living in the middle of nowhere utah it is several miles to the nearest person my age/grade, and even then, they were in a different ward than me. out here in utah, the LDS religion is very strong, and it unifies people who live nearest each other, forming a strong tight knit community. sadly because of that, it can be isolating as well. and because I didn't have friends in my ward, it translated into having no friends in school either.

because of this I turned to books, I read several books a week, I didn't watch TV or movies because I would rather read. slowly I found that I enjoyed reading books that were filled with action and adventure, rather than romance. I didn't like reading books where  a major subplot was romance. I would rather the characters be friends for a while, and then slowly I would begin shipping them. I figured this was normal, because it didn't seem right to me that two people could look at each other, and immediately have feelings of lust towards the other person. it seemed irrational to me.

when I got to middle school, and was able to go from a tiny elementary school to a much larger one I finally found some friends who didn't mind that I lived 10 minutes away. in fact their first question to me wasn't “where do you live?” and it wasn't until months later that they learned exactly how far away I lived. but that didn't bother them, these people became my friends and stayed my friends for nearly 6 years now. and during that time I watched my friends develop goo goo eyes for each other, pine away at their crush from a distance, work up the nerve to tell them, go on a few dates, then a messy break up, and the cycle would repeat two weeks later. during that time, I never developed a single crush on anyone. and no one had a crush on me. I shrugged it off if it even got brought up and tried to excuse it away with humour or saying that my time would come eventually. then at night I would lay in bed staring at the ceiling and wonder if I was broken, and if anyone would ever love me.

eventually, someone did. a guy L told me that he loved me, we had been friends for a while and I said that I thought I liked him too. to this day I don't know if I lied back then. the first few months were a blur of us mostly getting to know each other better, hanging out, and him becoming my closest friend. he was okay for me to take things at my own pace, and it was nearly 6 months before I told him that I loved him back. during that time I began to fall for him, and I found that the longer we were apart, the harder it would be for me.i just needed to be close to him. we were together for 3 years. we broke up the summer before my senior year of high school. over the course of our relationship I realized that I stopped calling him “boyfriend” in my mind. he just became L. he had a problem with keeping his room clean at home, and when his parents decided to move he had problems trying to clean his room so they could pack up. so his parents grounded him from me. he could do anything he wanted except spend time with me, hoping that I would be able to whip him into cleaning his room faster. the first weeks were the hardest, then as time went by, I realized that I didn't need him as much anymore. I could handle the distance, and I could handle not seeing him.  after 5 months, I realized that I wasn't in love anymore. and I began to see that I wasn't as in love as I had been those first few months. I convinced his parents to let me see him for a few hours, telling them that I would help them pack. and the two of us talked. he had thought that I was insane. I tried to explain to him how I was feeling, and he told me that he felt as though I had lied to him. I left his house that night in good standing with him and his parents. and drove the 15 min back to my house, feeling just as stable as I had beforehand.

when I told my mom what happened that night, she was full of emotions. she was worried and scared and a bit hysterical. she was afraid of how I was going to feel “once it hits me” that my best friend, and my boyfriend of 3 years was gone.

we waited for the tears to come. we waited for the emotions. they never came.

to this day I haven't cried about it, or had one day that I felt sorry that we broke up. I remember a quote from Peter and the Starcatcher. “it's supposed to hurt, that's how you know it meant something.” I guess it didn't really mean anything.

after that I continued life as normal. and everyone was surprised that I was taking it so well, but as college admissions drew closer and classes began to wrap up, everyone forgot about it. but I didn't.

for weeks I would wonder why I didn't feel anything. why the spark that had grown had faded so suddenly and left me feeling fine.

not knowing what to do I turned to the internet, and learned about asexuality. I realized while reading people descriptions of what asexuality is to them, and what is defined as being asexual, that I was reading a close description of how I felt on a daily basis. I was dumbfounded. however there were a few small parts that didn't fit, namely, that I had found someone that I was romantically attracted to, and eventually I was sexually attracted as well, although those feelings were very weak in comparison to other peoples. that's when I found out about demisexuality and demiromantics. again it felt as though I was reading a description of how I felt. but still I was afraid that I was just broken.

it's been over a year since I found out what demisexual/romantic means. and nearly 10 months since I decided to embrace the term as a way to define me. and yet, I have only “come out” to a small handful of people. my mom, my little sister, my best friend, and my soon-to-be-fiance.

that's right, I've found someone who loves me, and who I love. we met through my next door neighbour. I live in my college’s dorms and my neighbour is a friend from high school, the first day we met we were all talking and joking about flirting and relationships and stuff. my boyfriend, I, said that he was Bisexual, and that he though both me and my (male) friend were pretty cute, I then said, offhandedly, that I was Demi. he gave me a small look, but didn't press questions. I learned later that he didn't know what it meant but didn't want to pry, and after he learned what it was he was sad because he was starting to like me and was scared that I'd never like him back. but he decided that even if he couldn't “pursue me romantically” he could at least be my friend. after a while I realized that I began to fall for him. and when I said so, he was ecstatic. we haven't been apart since, and we hope to get married soon.

he knows that I don't feel romantic/sexual emotions as strongly as he does. he knows that when we kiss, I don't feel the same way he does. to me, a kiss is a lot like holding hands. its sweet because of the meaning behind the gesture, but its just two body parts touching. however I know that to him each kiss means alot, and makes him happy. so I do my best to kiss him as often as I can. many nights I still worry if im broken. I'm scared that he will leave me because a nice conversation gives me more joy and pleasure than a kiss. and when I worry he is there to keep me company, and help me feel whole.

if you ever feel like this. that's okay. you are not broken. you are not worthless. you will find the thing in life that will give you happiness too. it could be a job, a pet, a book or fandom. or it could be a partner. even if you have a romantic/sexual partner that doesn't mean that you aren't Demi anymore. and being demi, isn't all that bad after all.

[gettin-bi-bi-bi]

1/6 Hi! Im the questioning bi enby anon that is afraid of having ruined their life by questioning lol What can I do if there are no ways to chat to a professional online without spending money (im not economically independent) in my area? I dont live in the US and everything seems to be there. Aside from the pandemic, im not ready to go to any group in person yet. I’m very distressed about my queerness, to the point where it’s difficult to concentrate on other things like study.

2/6Part of me hopes this is not real and im just imagining things.I do have a therapist, but one time she made a weird comment about tinder including multiple sexualities so I never felt good about telling her about my possible bisexuality, but now things have escalated and im having suicidal thoughts in regards of my gender. I talked to an online friend about this but ofc these are things that exceeds him

3/6 i dont want to act on my thoughts, but im tired of having them so I considered talking to my therapist about this and see if she can relocate me with a gender therapist or something (and telling my parents something else) but im not sure if that’s a good idea

4/6 i do keep a journal and a private blog, but sometimes putting my thoughts there doesn’t make me feel better and I struggle to find the words to what im feeling. It used to help me a lot for other things, but for some reason is not as effective for this

5/6 i have joined a group online for nonbinary people but we cant talk about things regarding suicide and it seems like most ppl are more chill about these things that I am and sometimes it makes me feel worse to be in a group because it reminds me that I probably dont fit in standard society. I hate being sad about this.

6/6 so my questions are basically if there is somewhere i can talk to in chat without being US exclusive or requiring money and if it’s a good idea to tell my therapist about this even if she may have some prejudices. Honestly I dont know what to do, i want my life back lol (Tiger answered my previous ask, if they can answer this too it would be nice. If anyone else has something to say its welcome)

Hi anon. Have you actually told your therapist about your suicidal thoughts, if not about the cause of them? I think you do need to talk to a professional about these thoughts, ideally someone who is at least sympathetic towards queer people (if not queer themself) and qualified to address the suicidal thoughts with you (though obviously someone with experience of dealing with suicidal thoughts stemming from sexuality/gender related issues would be best, but may not be possible to find easily). Since you do already have a therapist I think she should at least be your starting point for this. Even if perhaps she doesn’t really understand queer identities she should at least be able to talk through the suicidal thoughts more with you and if she is not able to address the gender/sexuality issues specifically herself perhaps she can point you in the direction of those who are more understanding about those issues specifically (and if she is outright bigoted and unhelpful about this then she’s not a good therapist and you really need a better one but hopefully that won’t be the case, she may well be just lacking an understanding of other identities currently. Lots of people do make vaguely offensive comments about queer identities but because they’re ignorant not because they’re actually hateful).

Also I don’t want to pry too much but are your suicidal thoughts purely coming from your gender/sexuality issues or are there other things too? Other issues that you’re trying to deal with too, or mental health issues, something like depression or anxiety that may itself be causing or contributing to the suicidal thoughts? Because I’m certainly no expert in dealing with these things despite my own issues but if there are other issues in play here then those may need managing (or managing differently to the way they’re being managed currently) in addition to addressing the issues you’re experiencing specifically in regard to your gender/sexuality issues. Again I think that is something your therapist is going to be best placed to address, whether she can deal with it herself or needs to direct you to someone else.

I’m afraid I don’t really know very much myself about what kind of resources there are for people to access, about either specifically queer issues or suicidal thoughts and especially when I don’t know what country you are in. Where actually are you, anon? Unfortunately a lot of things will be US-centric or US-only, but most countries must have some kind of resources for queer people as well as broader support for suicidal people generally. (If anyone does have suggestions for those kind of things that may help anon then please add to this.) 

If it helps, you definitely aren’t alone and you aren’t the only one to have issues with or related to your orientation or gender or to feel isolated from ‘standard society’. Maybe it feels like you’re the only one like this but I promise you, you’re not, all of us who don’t fit the ‘norms’ and the ‘standards’ of wider society are probably going to feel excluded or isolated or invisible because of this at some point and feel varying levels of anguish over this. And while many people are chill about their gender or sexuality and some people it’s true never really experience any issues with them, many aren’t really that chill about it at all and only appear so on the surface, or many only become happier and accepting and able to embrace their identities after doing a huge amount of questioning and worrying and stressing out and having to seek help and support from others. And many people are going to be happy about it sometimes and then experience issues at other times, they’re not going to be constantly happy. Also many of your issues related to gender are probably very similar to many binary trans people’s issues and experiences. I know that there is still a lot of erasure of and even bigotry towards non-binary people even within parts of the wider trans community but overall I think there is more understanding and acceptance than erasure and bigotry there, so don’t think you automatically have to limit yourself to non-binary specific groups and communities because there is often huge amounts of overlap between non-binary and binary trans people’s experiences and in some ways they can be practically identical.

My main advice really anyway is try to talk to your therapist about this, she is there to help you and even if she may not feel able to deal with your specific issues herself she still has an obligation to help you and she should be able to guide you towards someone who is better placed to deal with them.

- Tiger