#its so stupid to cry over something so minor im aware

[dave-the-timelord]

Christmas is falling apart so quickly

[sly-merlin]

KILLING ME- 14

pairing : law student!reader + yuta

genre : (fluff)  angst , mafia au/ arranged marriage au.

warnings of this chapter : cursing, mention of drugs, character death.

words : ~4k

summary :

“life’s never fair y/n. realise it as soon as you can . it is the only secret for living a regretless life.”                                  

or            

“ curiousity got the cat hitched”

K.M masterlist

K.M 13

TAGLIST : @kpop-choco @moon-yuta @kawaiiayasan @btm-taeyong @exfolitae @lanadreamie @cheersskznct ​​ @hyuckiesgf ​​ @theworld-accordingtocasey ​​@simplybree

@yiyi4657 @sorrywonwoo @sillywinnergladiator   @minejungwoo @leesalts @mal-nakamoto23 @ro2424 @itlittlefangirl @nctzens-world @bl–ankhaeji @jeaneteflo @nuoyii @bralessmermaid @minhoseyeliner @tyongpoetry @swimmingkpopblog @jkjkseo @orphicmoon @floralescapes

A/N : this chapter marks the celebration of this blog surpassing 600 followers! thank you so much for all the support! also for minor readers, the sfw versions of nsfw chapters are given at the end of the masterlist so check those properly before reading.

•••••••••••••

y/n! Are you sleeping?”

Registering his words, you replied in a groggy voice,“What the fuck do you want?”

“Your phone. I left mine in the medical room. I need to call Mark right now.” with some authority, he spoke.

Whining loudly, you fell back on the bed. It was only due but flailing your arms and legs like a kid in a toy store, you let out a screech full of annoyance, cursing your fate.

Were you really going to babysit him now?

"Have you suddenly lost your hearing? Stop with this sick attitude and open the door."

A puff of air left your nose, your chest moved rhythmically with your stomach and you relaxed your arms beneath your head, eyes fixed at the fan above and ears ringing with his voice. He kept calling you and after a number of shouts, you started humming to distract yourself, afraid that you'd end up helping him otherwise. That was something, naturally, you were not interested in. Last time he had ignored your voice and now nature had presented you with an opportunity to return the favour. Just with a bit less flavour.

"Are you dead?"

"Hmmm. To you, yes I am." Mumbling, you yawned and pushed yourself up to reach your side table and fishing out your earphones from the bottom drawer, you untangled them and fixed them comfortably in your ear, hiding yourself underneath the sheets.

Sonata no.14 instantly transported you away from the noise and the stress that was your unwanted husband, yuta. The smile playing on your lips widened as you realised that you were his only mode of communication at the moment.

But You were going for a nap. Until then, he could wait. And thrash. And cry. Or die.

Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you rotated the handle of the door to walk outside but your little trip was interrupted when your body collided straight into a wall. No. The obstruction was too soft for a wall.

Opening your eyes properly, you saw yuta standing stiff. Surprised at the sudden appearance, you immediately stumbled back and in hurry, hit your spine on the wooden door. The glare of his eyes, that always spoke more than you could comprehend, coupled with a clenched jaw, was not a very pleasant sight for sure yet you found it harder to dart your own eyes away from him.

"Your phone" he seethed, breathing deeply.

"Huh?" You croaked out.

He raised his brow and in an instant, the previous scenario played like a short movie in your head. Snapping your head down, you regarded his leg with pity. He obviously noticed it immediately but seemed to ignore it and refrained from saying anything. Good for you, you thought.

"Are you deaf?"

Your furrowed brows met his eyes and with a roll of his own, he picked up his finger to force his demand but you managed to walk back inside your room before he could've done that.

Your back faced him as you contemplated your options while slowly stretching your arm to reach for your phone on the other side of the bed.

should you even be giving him your phone?

You had more trust in Taeyong than the man you shared a roof with so there was no way you were doing that.

Unbeknownst to you, yuta was watching your movements intently and the way you bobbed your head, he knew you were scheming something so he decided to be polite for a moment. Only until you were needed. Or your phone was needed.

Once the phone was in your hand, another thought crossed your mind.

"Wait. Where is the house phone?" Crossing your arms, you asked him slyly, already knowing the answer

"You fucking never got it installed. It's still in its stupid package" he seemed rather impatient.

"And you could've called reception through the door telecom. He would have phoned Mark for you. These rich apartments certainly have more hospitality tha-

"I CAN'T GO AROUND DISTRIBUTING AN UNDERGROUND CRIMINAL'S CONTACT NUMBER TO EVERYONE"

He inhaled and exhaled and you just watched until he opened his eyes again, hand reaching out to you.

"Chill. I've every right to be sceptic especially when you are the one asking for it."

Finding Mark's number on your phone, you called him.

Yuta's hand threaded through his rough hair as he noticed what you were trying to do.

"Hey mark!" Your chirpy voice resounded in the room and yuta was sure this was some different spirit speaking. You sounded too bubbly for the way you were investigating him just a second ago.

"Yes yes. His phone exactly.i don't trust him enough to hand over my phone so that's why I'm calling you myself. Just hurry up if you can or you might have to clean up a dead body in the next few hours."

With that you cut the phone. Without meeting yuta's gaze and resting your hand on the handle, you mumbled,

"He'll be here in an hour."

You were about to close the door when he stopped it with the palm of his hand, alerting you with the force.

"Tell him to get some food too."

And limping, he retired back, to the couches.

Sighing, you messaged mark. Had it been for something else, you'd have ignored but your own stomach had signalled you that it needed some good food so you chose not to fight against your own body.

Now, only the taste of the food could decide how many days you were going to tolerate that barbaric human.

"Are you still going to that stupid internship?" Johnny hesitantly murmured from your desk chair while taking big bites from the plate.

"It's not stupid please! I’m just waiting for them to actually pay attention to my awesome capabilities so they can transfer me to the main branch. This is not bad either but”, you stopped to lick your forefinger and tasting the sauce, continued, “but I really wanna go into the criminal unit. That’s where the actual fun is. As long as i’m being paid decently, i’ll suffer with the stupid research work here.”

“With the tongue as sharp as yours, I think you should be getting ready for a demotion instead” he laughed, showing you his fake bunny teeth in the most annoying and childish way.

“Ha ha ha ha. Some well wisher you are! Thank you so much for looking out for me but I'll be fine. Who knows the gatekeeper’s pay package is more than me. So it’d be a win-win in that case too I guess?” when you did a drum roll with your chopsticks to stress upon your point, he laughed harder.

"So being broke is the new black?" Rolling his eyes, he dragged out, "I swear you kids don't know how this world works."

"And you, grandpa of the century, knows?"

"I'm aware of what I need for my survival and from what I've learnt, you can either take risks or look for job security. In your case, " he fake coughed, "where the proportions of risk taking have already exceeded the acceptable limit, a job security is the best and safest option to choose."

"And that would justify my greed and desire to work for the biggest company of this city."

"Kun. The security you need and the independence you seek would be given by kun. Chois are hmm how to say? Cheap? Yeh cheap. They have no work ethics. "

"Have you worked with them, johnny?"

"No. I'm ju-

"Then was your ex a choi?" You saw his eyes comically and cutely widening at your remark.

"No. My ex wasn't a choi and that's not what I'm saying and you know that."

"Oh. So your ex wasn't a choi. Then a lee? Kim? Im? Oh my god! Look at your cheeks seo!" You dragged out. He shook his head as you kept wiggling your brows at him.

"She was a kim but that doesn't mean I would hate all kims dude. That's baseless and stop ignoring the topic. I want you to apply in Kuns. It's the best option. Do it as soon as you-

"Yeah yeah we'll see about that. First take that bitch back. I can't even nap in his presence. "

"Umm. Yeah. You gotta tolerate him. And besides he's injured. Injured yuta is like a gun without a bullet. He's gonna shout for a day or two and then peace out. He'll be sleeping and reading in his room and you won't even know if he's alive or not."

"Now that's bullshit. What is he going to do here anyway? I hope he can hop himself on one leg because even if the sun rises from the north, I am not going to do a single task for him. He can die hungry , for all I care.”

“Do you think you can endure him for some tasty dinners?”

Clicking your tongue, you quipped, “Do you really think you can buy me with a few homemade meals?”

Day 1

Yes. you were sold. The moment the tasty noodles had melted in your mouth, you knew you had no dignity. And you were indeed ashamed of yourself.

Earlier, Renjun had called you to inform you that he had delivered the food and medicines for yuta and had left your dinner box but he had failed to mention the special and endearing note that was pasted on the glass box. In the curvy letters, it read bitchy piglet and you swore the only person you’d be killing before yuta would be jaehyun. But you were going to use jaehyun to build up your tolerance instead.

When you went out to clean your dishes, he was playing some game on his phone, excitement evident from the way he was laughing every other second. Maybe if he remained occupied, he would not be so insufferable.

Day 3

"Oyii! Oyii!"

No. You were wrong. He was very very much insufferable.

At midnight, his voice echoed, disturbing your sleep. You cursed at the cool atmosphere that had prevented you from using the air con which otherwise would have blocked his annoying screeches. But it seemed like bad luck wanted to change its name to y/n instead. With your name being called like a broken record, it was a fight between you and him that you were not going to lose. Shuffling to your side, you covered your ears with the other pillow and tried to drown out the annoyingly demanding and hoarse voice. There was no way you were giving him the satisfaction of having any power over you. He could cry for all he liked!

“What the fuck do you want at this hour?”

Attempting a glare at him through sleepy lids, you spewed with irritation. Unlike you, he was very much awake, breathing with the sole purpose of making you question your whole existence.

“Pillow” scratching his non-existent beard, he mumbled.

Your nostrils flared and jaw clenched at such inconvenient command.

“You summoned me for a pillow? A pillow that can normally be found on a person’s bed? Can you please rectify your demand or did I just simply hear something wrong?”

The opened curtains and the moonlight that drenched the room was the only source that illuminated his face for you and even with drooping eyes, you could see how serious he was and yet you couldn't hold your tongue back because he simply deserved every shit you bestowed him with.

“Turn the lights on and count the pillows on my bed! And when you are done, get me some pillows from your room.” he simply stated.

“Why should i give you my pillow? I need them!”

“Because I don't use a pillow and I need it asap!”

“Then why do you suddenly need one? To disturb my sleep? Oh that makes sense.” and suddenly, your eyes had synced with your body to side with your fight mode.

“I need them for elevating my leg. The bandage is too tight and it’s not comfortable.”

“Then why don't you walk out of the room and get some cushions for yourself!” you raised your volume.

“Because my leg is in pain and i’m unable to get up? What makes you think I'm dying to see your ugly face at this time of the night. I dont wanna have nightmares of you as well but i can't help it ok!”

“you should have kept them near you. And who are you calling ugly hmm? You poop fac-

“Okay scream for all you want! But get me a pillow when your battery dies down!”

“What the fuck d- are you covering your ears? Wow ways to be generous!”

Stomping your foot, you left the room to get the hardest cushion on the couch.

“Here! Next time call Mark if you want anything. Don’t raise your voice ever again to call me because unlike you, i have work in the morning and hence I need some sleep..”

Just when you were about to leave after shoving the cushion in his hand, he spoke up again,

“This is damn hard! I asked for your pillow specifically and not th- AHH!”

A scream left him as you harshly removed the support , leaving his leg to painfully meet the mattress.

“How about you fix your attitude before fixing your leg?” suggesting, you dropped the cushion on the floor and left.

He didn't call you after that. Nor that you cared. However, the sleep in your eyes somehow vanished. Dancing on your sides didn’t help. Neither did drinking a glass of water. So, with a groan, you listened to your conscience and picked up your extra pillow that was sadly too perfect for your enemy.

Padding to his room, you tried your best to scrutinise and hearing his heavy snores, you placed the pillow right under his thigh and the cushion under his calf. Scoffing at his sleeping figure, you internally groaned to remind yourself that you hadn't done it for him. It was just a debt. For the blanket he had once covered you with. Nothing more and nothing less.

Day 5

You just wanted him out of your hair. He was just being a load on your head. At first, only the work was kicking your ass, then jungwoo was kicking you like a punching bag for an hour straight and adding to your distress was yuta.

"I'm not your maid! Stop piling up the dishes for me. I've had enough mercy on you. From today onwards, get a cleaner for yourself or buy disposable cutlery. I'm not going to clean after you!"

With a roll of his eyes, he had ignored you.

And so did you. Pasting a warning note on the sink tap, you had left for the library with a dying hope that maybe the kitchen would be spotless on your arrival or you'd be dialing some numbers in the evening.

For someone who despised the solemn atmosphere of libraries, you had successfully spent 11 hours in the said hellish room. It was 11 p.m and you wanted to sleep, more than anything but here you were, waiting for yugyeom so he'd just pick you up for a good drinking session that you were dying to have.

Fortunately, you weren't the only one who had missed living these past days. Everyone, for different reasons, was suffering so you felt a little less bad for yourself even though you knew your troubles were far more grave than their academic burdens.

"Wake up shorts" someone whispered in your ear. Squirming on your seat, you whipped your head in your sleepy state and found jungkook caressing your head, goofily smiling at you.

"I thought you wanted to hang out till the next morning" air quoting the last words, he picked up your bag.

"Yeah. Let's go. I'm all ready for a night full of vodkas." You yawned out.

"Definitely. No. You are going home. We can have a small get together me and yuggy are done with our final project." He dragged you out into the parking lot.

" I feel like it's been years since we got drunk together. You are never here anymore!" You whined at him, complaining your heart out.

"I will be. Soon. Then we can celebrate your little choi job as well."

"Oh please. Don't even mention it. If I had penny for every time they rolled their eyes at me, I'd be richer than your parents kook." You huffed out and as his gentle laugh surrounded you, you closed your eyes resting your back against the seat, expecting to be up by the time he'd park.

But the next day, you woke up tangled in the sheets of your bed, unaware of the events of the previous night.

When you had warned yuta about the dirty dishes, you hadn't expected him to fill the corners of the kitchen with disposable containers. It looked like you had missed a whole drama while sleeping in the library. The kitchen was shining except for the new utensils. But as long as you were not babysitting him, you were fine with anything. You didn't want to jinx your relief, however, you were glad you would be able to get some work done. finally.

You had spoken too early for your own good. Just when you sat down to write your paper, passionate and enthusiastic howls of that man pierced through your earphones and once again, you opened the window and hopped outside, in the balcony, ready to drown him out. Sipping on your lemonade, you gaped at the scenery the not so distant traffic provided you with and somehow, your thoughts wandered to the only person these horns reminded you of. Johnny.

What are you doing? Your fingers hovered over the text but once again, you deleted the message, declaring it to be too childish for someone as mature as him. Maybe you were just being silly. Maybe you were not. But who was going to put a stamp on your maybe?

Tears pricked your eyes as the harsh words of your senior thundered in the room. He kept shouting and you had no option than to consume each and every word he directed at you. Even if you were being insulted in front of your twenty other co-workers, staying quiet was the best option, you ascertained. so along with your saliva, you gulped your explanations down your throat.

Howsoever unconscious, you were still in the wrong. There was no excuse as to why you had mailed the wrong bills, apart from the headache that was caused by the person possibly lying on the sofa and watching t.v back home. No matter how much you tried to run away from his existence, he had somehow managed to let himself inside your head.

Glaring at the kid who asked for his turn on the park swing, you pushed yourself a little higher, letting the wind greet your stinging eyes as it hit your face in waves. Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you chose to ignore jungwoo for a day as it was the time, you decided, to let all the lessons that the past few months had taught you sink into your mind, to bleed into your soul so you won’t ever be able to deviate from them. Ever.

Only if that was so easy. You knew blaming others for your problems was no solution but trivialising them by not paying heed wasn't a smart move either.

When you reached home, your frustrations had died down. So when yuta simpered and pointed towards your empty container, telling you how he had already finished your supposed dinner, you simply rolled your eyes at him, robbing him of whatever he wanted to achieve by riling you up. Heating up the water, you were about to open the noodles packet when yeong called you.

You stared at the shattered phone screen in disbelief as the endless tears ran down your cheeks. As you verbalised the words to yourself again, your body met the floor with a thud.

Jungkook. Drugs. No more.

Three words had silenced the screeches in your head and your mind busied itself in rejecting what you had heard for it had to be a lie. But what how were you going to ignore the heart wrenching screams that yeong had let out. How were you going to dismiss the truth.

How were you all going to accept it?

••••••••••••••••

next update: Some day between 5-7 June.

[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.

[pridewhatpride]

ok so I read your view on GX rivalshipping and how things would get messy when johan shows up because I was curious about another GX rivalshippers opinion, and holy you and I have the EXACT same thoughts.

Ive went on and on about how manjoume as a rival (and as someone who could have had the ability to support judai) was tossed aside as soon as johan shows up + turned into the comedic relief chara and nobody ever really knows what the hell im talking about LOL. a big thing for me is just how DIFFERENT that would be for manjoume as well? in the seasons before johan shows up judai is so clingy towards him, always busting into his room and being in his personal space...

then mr. buff arms big smile shows up with his frilly lilac blouse and homo dragon and suddenly judai is like. smitten. which like youve pointed- out who could blame judai? johan is hard to hate and hes kind of perfect in every way. I always imagine what that would do to manjoumes self esteem in particular, because as we all know it IS a bit fragile at times, especially when it comes to being the best he can be.

I think having johan around would make him feel absolutely insignificant not only as someone who LIKES judai, but even just as judais friend. is he really so horrible at being a support that judai needs a stranger to lean on? even though he never asked for judais help much, is he really such a burden when he needs to be saved? why is judai acting like hes never been able to connect with manjoume, who can also see duel spirits, before? whoever said opposites attract obviously havent seen judai and johan! thoughts like that.

I could go on and on but I dont want you to have to read my 2746373 word long ask about them. id love to hear any thought or analysis you have on GX rivalshipping because its my favourite and the shippers are so rare, so I encourage you to post them whenever you feel like it!

Dear anon.

You can't ever know just how happy receiving this in my inbox made me. I can't fully express how grateful I am at the simple fact that you read my long rambles and reached out to me. I respect your anonimity if you want to keep it, but honestly, DM me whenever, if you want to. I think I'd like to talk to you if you're comfortable with it? I really do want to read your "2746373 word" essay on them. For the rest of my life.

I might get a little personal in terms of my view on this, so just... be aware.

The thing is that the way Manjoume is cast aside is just... a big fear of mine. "Sure, we might be friends now, but I'm not all that good and you know it. You won't mean any harm by it, but you'll find someone you like better and I'll be alone again." That kind of line of thought is probably something that goes through Manjoume's mind? He doesn't really... have friends outside of Judai. Maybe Fubuki. And Daichi? Except he disappears into nothingness very quickly. But that's it. And he certainly had none before that: just lackeys who pretended to like him because he was rich and perceived as promising. He lost that and suddenly found himself isolated.

It's nice to think that he bonded with the other members of the gang, but... he didn't. Shou certainly never really stops disliking/making fun of him. You could say it's meant as like... friendly teasing. But it doesn't read that way because there is nothing to indicate actual affection. Kenzan, Aster and the transfer students just... barely interact with him? Like have they actually ever spoken to eachother? I doubt it. Ryo is just the admirable upperclassman. Again, barely any interaction. Asuka is... a mess I don't want to get into, but again, she would probably file a restraining order if she could.

So yeah. Manjoume has one friend and the taller and cooler guy just kind of takes that away. Of course Johan is not aware of this! He wouldn't have been able to do much to change it, either way. It was Judai's own choice and that's what hurts the most, to me.

If shifting the focus and making minor changes to canon is something you like to do, here's a thing I think about a lot. "Teardrop", the Season 3 opening, except it's what Manjoume feels when seeing Judai's suffering and desperation. You know.

As you hang your head and smile, a single tear lands on your cheeks

You pretend to be strong, but underneath You’re hiding sighs; your smile is cloudy It sticks into me Like shattered glass

It’s OK to talk about the pain in your heart

Your smile Has always saved me You can cry now I’ll stay here with you

I can't bring myself to blame Judai or Johan for it, but I think Manjoume- if he'd been written like an actual character past a certain point- would have been quite devastated by this.

As you said, it's not just being abandoned, it's also being indirectly told that he was never truly someone worthwhile, that he is little more than extra weight. What of his supposed status of equal rival and all that? Nothing. Judai is just... on a different level than him. So Manjoume is simply left to stagger behind in a desperate attempt to chase after greatness. He wasn't good enough for his brothers and Judai stood up for him. But in the end he wasn't good enough for Judai either.

I like to think that Manjoume made an effort to get along with the others. He just didn't quite know how and couldn't just... switch off his more prideful persona. And he ended up paying quite the steep price.

I know I'm extra melodramatic when it comes to my favourites, but it's something that bugs me. I understand why the manga decided to approach Manjoume's character in a completely different way and it's the reason why I like to read Manjoume's personality as a mix of manga and anime canon. I really have to mention this- how can one even pretend that the writers gave a shit about Manjoume when they joked about how stinky he was in a scene that could have been... emotional in some way. Judai frees Manjoume from the influence of the Society of Light by reminding him who he really is (I don't want to talk about Kenzan being too strong to be manipulated because that is fucking stupid and besically the equivalent of saying "ahah, the light got you because you're not strong willed enough @ Asuka @ Manjoume. Get rekt"). And like... great! They are actually showing off how much they care for eachother as friends despite the rivalry! But no. Judai ends up basically saying: "You smell and your coat has stains on it!" and Manjoume's just: "Oh yeah, I'm goth I hate wearing white, nvm."

... I swear someone on the writing team looked at Manjoume and went: "Let's bully him!" Ugh ;; Can you tell I'm hyper biased towards Manjoume yet?

This was hilarious to read, by the way: "mr. buff arms big smile shows up with his frilly lilac blouse and homo dragon"

But yes, this mess is now officially over. I will be spouting gx rivalshipping nonsense left and right because we were robbed of their dynamic and I'll never get over that. Also I really want to draw them, so that helps.

Ending this post by saying that this ask made me feel like I didn't waste time writing all that, that someone can get something out of it. I'm really glad.

[star-mum]

LIVE REACTION TO NIGHTMARE TIME EP 1

Idk if anyone would even be interested in reading this but as I was watching the show last night I kept writing down my reactions on my notes so here we are

*this is all in caps idk why just roll with it*

THE OPENING SONG IS SUCH A BOP OMG NICK LANG HIMSELF ?????? MONSTER FUCKER RIGHTS ???? HIDGENS ENTRANCE HOW ICONIC "LUCY IS HAVING NONE OF IT" I LOVE THAT OMG JOEY PLAYING KONK (?) IS SUCH A POWER MOVE I LOVE THAT THE BEGGINING IS JUST TARZAN FANFIC SKSKSKSKS MARIAH IS TEXTING JOHN (?) AND HES LAUGHING SM WE LOVE A COMEDY QUEEN I LOVE THEM USING THE ZOOM BACKGROUNDS SKSKSKS KONK IS AWFULLY CLOSE TO COCK AND I THINK ITS ON PURPOSE ?? SPECIALLY WITH THE LAG I HAD TO DO A DOUBLE TAKE SOMETIMES SKSKSKS SOMEONE JUST SAID "TED'S ORIGIN STORY" ON CHAT AND I LOST IT !!!!! COULD YOU IMAGINE ???? HANDSOME LADY ? I MEAN SURE TIGHT JOHN IS LOSING IT FUCK MAN, SAME CURT OMG THAT ACCENT OOOOOOOOHHHH BOY I KNEW IT WAS HER FIANCEE SHIIIIT WE CANNOT TRUST HIM I KNOW THIS !!! "ENTAGLED" SKSKS WHAT SIR HES GAY CHILL OUT WHATS THE YEAR, IT FEELS SO OLD TIMEY "I'D SAY YOU HAD FEELINGS FOR THIS APEMAN" OOOOOOOHHHH DONT U SAY JONATHAN IS A PUSSY BITCH I CAN TELL LUCY JUST DROP IT OH SHE ACTUALLY DID ????? FUCK IT UP BABE

(I JUST ACIDENTALY DELETE HALF OF WHAT I WROTE SHIT, ILL HAVE TO REWRITE IT FROM MEMORY) WHAT THE FUCK THEY WERE TRICKING US??? THEY CALLED IT, WHAAAAAAAAT WDYM "PLAY THE PROFESSOR" IS HE NOT A PROFESSOR WHAT ALTERNATE REALITY IS THIS I NEED TO KNOW

ARE THEY GONNA FUCKING KILL HIM WHAT??? SINGING LONDON BRIDGE WHILE CHASING SOMEONE IS MY FAV SCARY TROP HAHAHHA YEEEEESSS "TOOK OFF WDYM" GIRL HE IS HOLDING A GUN WHAT DO YOU THINK "WDYM" WHY DID HE KEEP THE KONK ACT AFTER LUCY LEFT SKSKSKSKS TED WTF SKSKSKS "I DO SOME OF MY BEST THINKING WHEN IM ERECT" HAHAHAHA TED LIKES TO BE A HIMBO THATS GREAT IS HE GOING TO KILL TED ?? AAAAAAAHHHHHH TED HE HAS A GUN PLZ DONT TEST HIM HE HAS ALREADY KILLED A MAN OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH FUUUUUUUUCK RECAST???? WHO IS TAKING TED'S ROLE ????? OH SO ITS NOT OLD TIMEY AFTER ALL RED SOMETHING???? OH TED'S GONNA PROPOSE IS SHE GONNA SAY NO? SHES GONNA SAY NO RIGHT ? FUUUUUUUUCK HAHAHHAHA WHY IS HE NAKED ??? JAHAHHAHA WHAT WHAT IS HAPPENING TED WHAT ? "PROFESSOR SHOULD GO FUCK HIMSELF" HAHAHAHA PORNHUB PREMIUM ACCOUNT HAHAHAH "OOOoooOOoOoOoOoOohhHhhHh BUT IT IS" FUCK NO DONT KILL HER OOOOOOOOOHHHH TED'S DEAD SHIT OOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH ROBERT'S ACTING IS *CHEF'S KISS* DAMN OH SHIT TED *NOW* TED IS DEAD FUCK HIDGENS IS HERE NOOOOOOOOOOO IS HE GONNA KILL HER ??? OH SHIT OH FUCK LUCY'S CAUGHT IN  A BEAR TRAP WHY ARE PPL SAYING WORKING BOYS IN THE CHAT ??? OH THATS WHY !!!!!! YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHH MINE IS A LITTLE BEHIND IS SHE BROKE ??????? OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH HAHAHAHAHA I KNEW IT HIDGENS GOT PLAYED THATS ON YOU BUDDY OH FUCK HIM UP LUCY ! BECKY BARNES ????? HATCHFIELD LORE ???? WAS SHE RUNNING AWAY FROM HIS HUSBAND IS THAT WHY SHE CLIMBED A TREE APE MAN SHOW UP PLZ WHO IS IT THO ?????? JEFF HELL YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK JESUS CHRIST APE MAN YEEEEAAAHHH WOOLY FOOT ?????? IS IT CHUMBY???? OOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH HAHAHA YEEEEAAHHH HOW DID HIDGENS KNOW ????? OH IS IT OVER ?????? NOOOOOOOOOOOO I WANTED MORE ;-----; THIS WAS SO GOOD THO OOOHHH FUCK ANOTHER MUSIC NUMBER JAMIE YOU LOOK AMAZING !!!!!!!!!! I CANT WAIT FOR THESE SONGS TO BE AVAILABLR FOR US (IN LIKE 3 YEARS CAUSE IM BROKE SKSKSKSK) HE DANCES THE CAN CAN ?????? OKAY I SKIPPED A BIT TO BE ON TIME WITH EVERYBODY "ARE YOU FUCKKING HIGH????" YEEEEEEEEEAH PART 2 BABEY !!!!! NICK'S HAIR LOOKS AMAZING OMG OH ???????? BILL AND ALICE !!!!!!!!!!!!!! GOD I MISSED THEM !!!!!!!!! OH THE TEEN ANGST I LOVE BILL SM HE'S SUCH A GOOD DAD DEB ????WHY WOULD U HURT BABY ALICE LIKE THIS ???? "I MIGHT NEVER SEE DEB AGAIN" GOD ALICE CHILL OUT LET HER BE A PLAY WRITER BILL CMON "MY BUDDY PAUL" AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH BLINKY ??? I DONT TRUST THAT AT ALL FUCK NO JOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHNNNN I DONT TRUST HES CHARACTER THO OOOOHHH LOVE DISCOUNTS I DIDNT LIKE THE WORKER CALLING HER PRINCESS THO, SHES BILL'S DAUGHTER NOT YOURS OOOOOOHHHHHH NO OH NONONONOONO BILL IS GOING TO DIE I JUST KNOW IT BLINKY IS EVIL I CAN FEEL IT ALICE NO NO LITTERING WHORE JAMES !!!!!!!!!! ALICE IS ALSO GOING TO DIE MAYBE RIGHT NOW WHO KNOWS BLNKY WTF SHE IS A MINOR WTF AAAAAH I DONT LIKE IT HERE JAMES ILY BUT THIS CHARACTER IS CREEPY AS SHIT I DONT LIKE IT HAHAHAH TIGHT LOVE THEME PARK STUPID SHIRTS "I DIDNT KNOW YOU WERE FUNNY" HAHAHAHAH DROWSY TOWN ? THE CHAT PULLED MY ATTENTION TO THAT BUT I DONT GET WHY ? IS THIS BAD "I'D FOLLOW YOU ANYWHERE" THIS IS SUCH A DAD THING TO SAY OH ALICE CMON DONT SAY THAT BILL CUT IT OUT WITH DECIDING YOUR KIDS FUTURE THATS NOT FUN OH GOD I DONT TRUST THAT NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO NO NO NO NO "AHOY BOYS AND GIRLS" NO NONONONONO UNCLE WILEY FUCK OFF THE SNIGGLES NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO FUUUUUUUUUCK NOOOOO AHHHHHHHHHHHHH "WE'RE THE SNIGGLES DONT BE SCARED" YOU KNOW WHAT SNIGGLES I AM SCARED BUT HELL YEAH SONG TIME OOOOOOOHHH FUCK IT UP JAMES OH ARE THEY GONNA LIKE GIVE THE AUDIENCE A SLEEP INDUCING DRUG OR SOMETHING ??????? "DONT BLINK" AHAHAHA I DONT TRUST THAT AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH "GREAT WE'RE DEAD" HAHAHAH THE SONG WAS A BOP THO "WHAT ARE THE SNIGGLES?" GREAT QUESTION ALICE "NOW U KNOW HOW I FELT WHEN I HAD TO SEAT THROUGH DEH" HAHHAHAHA "SEE U IN A SNIG" HAHAHA SNIGGLETTE ???U OKAY BBY??? OOOOOOOOHHH MORE SONGS HELL YEAH I LOVE ANGELA'S VOICE SM THE SNIGGLE PUNS ARE KINDA CONFUSING ME NGL WHY WAS THAT SO SAD OMG OOOOOOOH SHIT OH FUCK THEYRE GONNA KILL HER I JUST KNOW IT OMG "PRAISE THE WATCHER" OH MY GOD PLZ DONT KILL HER "UNTIL HE'S SEEN EVERYTHING" W H A T LAUREN'S VOICE SKSKSK SO CUTE PAPA SNIGGLE I DO NOT TRUST YOU THOSE ARE ALIVE ARENT THEY ????? OH FUCK SNIGGLETTE IS SHE OKAY ????????? "ANGELA R U ALRIGYT" WHAT "SHUT UP JEFF" OH MY GOD I DONT LIKE WHEN THEYRE SELF AWARE SKSKSKSK " U CAN SHUT THE HELL UP LAUREN" HAHAHAHA BILL OMG HE'S SUCH A DAD HAHAHAHAH ALICE IS SO NICE DO THEY NOT KNOW "ARON AROOON" HAHHAHA OH CHURROS I LOVE THOSE THE GIRL SHE DOESNT LIKE ?????? OH NON BINARY RIGHTS LOVE IT "IS THIS A FRIEND OF ZIGS" OH LOVE RESPECTFUL DAD DEB NOT COOL OH ALICE SHIT ALICE BBY IF SHES CHEATING ON YOU THATS NOT ON UR DAD STOP SHITTING ON HIM LIKE THIS "ITS UR MOTHERS FAULT" OH MY GOD HAHAHHAHA GREG AND ALISON ? AND BETH ?? DOES BETH LIKE HER ????OH NOOOOOO GREG NO U SHITTY SON OF A BITCH GOD FUCKING PUNCH HIM OH  NO HAHAHA FUCK NO THEYRE ALL POSESSED ARENT THEY THATS THE TEEN FROM THE MOVIE THEATER HAHAHHA "it lagged ;-; now we wait" A MAN IN A HURRY HAHAHAHHA OH SHIT BILL IS MAD IS HE POSESSED TOO ??????? OH SHIT WHATS HAPPENING BLINKY ????????? OH NO OH NO SHES GONNA HAVE A PANIC ATTACK THEYRE GONNA BE FINE RIGTH ??????? RIGHT ???? BREATHING EXERCISES BABY CMON OH NO PLZ DONT DO ANYTHING STUPID BILL NOOOOOOOOOOO BILL PLZ DONT DIE AGAIN I LOVE YOU SM PUT UR SEATBELT BACK ON PLZ NOOOOOOOOO OH THEYRE BOTH GOING TO FALL ARENT THEY OH NO OH MY GOD OH SHIT PHONE IS BROKEN OOPS AWN IM GONNA CRY PLZ LET THEM SURVIVE I BEG YOU NICK LANG OOOOOOOOH TWILIGHT BUT GAY I AM *HERE* FOR IT OOOOOH THANK GOD THEYRE SAFE THANK YOU NICK LANG BILL YOURE SUCH A GOOD DAD OH GOD SHIT ALICE CHILL OUT ITS JUST A PHONE BABE "SHE KNOWS IM WATCHING HER" I DONT TRUST THAT IS *SHE* POSESSED OR IS THIS JUST TEEN ANGST ALICE UR DAD IS TRYING HIS BEST PLZ CUT HIM SOME SLACK OH MARIAH TURNED HER CAMERA OFF OH DEAR GOD WHAT DOES THAT MEAN HAHAH I LOVE LIVE BLOOPS OH MY GOD BLINKY IS TERRIFYING FUCK NO DO NOT GET THAT WIGGLY JUNIOR BILL DONT HOW ??????? OH MARIAH IS BACK WHAT DOES THIS MEAN ??????? WHY CANT BILL GET THE MALLET THING DONT TAKE IT YES SMART LAUREN ? SKSKKSS WHAT MADAM IRIS I DO NOT TRUST YOU WHAT ?????? IS THAT ALICE'S PHONE ???? BILL DONT GET SCAMMED OH ITS AN ALL SEEING IPHONE ALICE CHILL PLZ IS HE GONNA DIE ????? PLZ NICK DONT DO THAT ALICE DONT DONT KILL UR DAD 49.95 AGAIN BILL PLZ TRY ANOTHER GAME JAMES DAMN THATS RUTHLESS BILL WHAT AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH IS THAT REAL ???????? IT CANT BE ??????? OH ITS NOT REAL ARE THEY MAKING THEM HATE THEIR FAMILIES AND KILL EACH OTHER ?? A TENDER KISS ON THE CHEEK FROM A DEMON HOW NICE GUYS PLZ JUST GO TO THERAPY I BEG U WHAT ARE U GONNA DO BILL? KICK HER HEAD ??????? (SORRY I HAD TO) BLINKY'S FUNHOUSE THAT SOUNDS WARM AND COMFORTING THIS IS LIKE THE OPPOSITE OF NOT UR SEED FIGHTING IN THE MIRROR PART OF A FUN HOUSE IS ALWAYS A GOOD HORROR MOVIE TROPE OH FUCK ARE THEY GONNA WAKE UP OH FUCK PLZ WAKE UP ESCAPE THIS ALIVE YEEEEAAAAAAHHHHH OH SHES GONNA SHOOT HIM ISNT SHE ????? SHES GONNA SHOOT HIM I JUST KNOW IT HES AWAKE SHES NOT IS BLINKY GONNA KILL THEM ?? OOOOOOOOHHHHHH FUCK I KNEW IT OH HELL YEAH ALICE FUCK IT UP ARE THEY GONNA DROW ?? OH NO OKAY DID THEY SURVIVE ???? IS SHARED TRAUMA GONNA SAVE THEIR RELATIONSHIP SKSKSKKS THEY SURVIVED !!!!!!!!! THANK YOU NICK LANG (AGAIN) WAIT HOW DID SHE GET HER PHONE BACK ? OH MADAM IRIS DID GIVE HER PHONE BACK AWWNNNNNNNN ALICE THIS ONE HAD A HAPPY ENDING YAY WELL IG THE OTHER DID TOO BUT NOT FOR THE CHARACTERS WE KNEW

THIS WAS SO GOOD I LOVER STAKID !!!!!!!!!!! I JUST WISHED I WASNT BROKE SO I COULD PAY FOR THE NEXT ONES KSKSKSKSK WILL BE WAITING FOR YOU GUYS TO DO YOUR REACTIONS FOR THE NEXT ONES !!!

I HEARD GREG AND IT WAS CRAIG SKSKKSSK OOPS

*from this part on is reactions from after the show when starkid was answering questions from the chat*

YEEAAH VOTE FOR BIDEN HELL YEAH STARKID

"THE WITCH IN THE WEB" WEBBY ???????? DO WE GET TO SEE HANNAH AGAIN ?????

A THEORY ON TUMBLR FROM REDDIT ON A INSTAGRAM ACC ON YT OH MY GOD SKSKSKSKKS

THE STORIES ARE CANON !!!!!!!!! THEORIES LETS GO GANG

STARKID FANS WHO CAN DONATE TO STARKID PLZ DO I WISH I COULD DONATE TO THESE TALENTED PPL G O D

I WAS CORRECT IT WAS KONK WITH A K

NERDY PRUDES MUST DIE YES!!!!!! WORKING BOYS !!!!

"NICK LANG IS A BOSS"

MARIAH: SAYS FUCK AS ALICE ALSO MARIAH: GEEKED THE *FREAKED* OUT

TIP JAR HAS BEEN OUT FOR 11 YEARS HELL YEAH

HOW TF DO YOU SPELL ZIGGS BTW

OOOHHH THEYRE FAKE THAT MAKES SENSE OK NOT FAKE COMFIRMED BUT PROBABLY FAKE LETS HOPE DEB DIDNT ACTUALLY CHEAT

"WELL I WAS BORN IN 1989" HAHAHAHA

BECKY CLIMBED WHILE RUNNING FROM HER HUSBAND I FEEL LIKE THATS WHAT THATS ABOUT

OH GOODIE I GET TO WATCH THEM LATER IDK WHEN BUT AT LEAST IK SOMEDAY

BLINKY VS WIGGLY

OH CMON NICK I WANTED TO KNOW ;-;

THIS WAS SO NICE I MISSED THEM ;-;

[luminescentauthor]

Sora/Nao Getting Together and Relationship Headcanons!

Wow lookit me posting twice in one day!

Please read this post of HCs about their third year or this will make absolutely no sense to you! You can also read part two but it’s long and you don’t need to for this to make sense.

However, if you don’t want to read either of those, the run down is: Sora is cap, Mokichi vice; their year are all on first-name basis since around the end of second year; when people ask if any of the three boys are dating, all four of them just shrug and smile cryptically, because they got really sick of people asking; Nao briefly had a boyfriend named Nakamura but turned out he was just trying to get info on her team for his school so he cheated on her and the team rioted. Tobi and Madoka beat him up.)

This is four and a half pages of a Google Doc, so please see below the cut for the HCs!

Oh also btw this has minor Tobi/Mokichi because, hello, Tobi is living in my mind rent free and he’s not letting me evict him. (Even though I would really, really like to.)

In the middle of Sora and Nao's second year, the entire rest of the boys' team plus the girls' team made a pact not to interfere with Sora and Nao's relationship, and let them sort things out on their own, because some people were getting antsy and tempted to get involved. And they are... starting to regret that.

Tobi, especially, is starting to regret that, and he kind of wants to strangle them both because they're both so dense jfc-

Chiaki is the only one who doesn't know about the pact, since the fact that Nao likes Sora has been very carefully kept from him, and basically so is anything about Nao in general. There’s a pact on the team to make sure to keep such things from him. (Momoharu is the one responsible for this and he's not the least bit sorry. It’s saved him so much pain.)

Nao has been crushing on Sora since first year, and Sora not denying it when people ask if they're dating is NOT helping her feelings, good God.

She spends like a solid twenty minutes every day panicking and/or crying in the arms of one of her friends on the girls' team and/or Tobi.

He is arguably her closest friend on the team beyond Sora (read here for my post about why I think they’re friends), and has long since passed the point of sympathetic into "Oh my God just ask ‘im out, Jesus-" and honestly, so has pretty much everyone except Mokichi, but Mokichi has the patience of a saint.

Sora probably got over Madoka in his second year if he confessed to her (again) and she gently rejected him or if she found a boyfriend (read: Momoharu, probably. I dunno if they worked out, but if they didn’t they remained very good friends. Yes, that’s actually a thing people can do!) 

Some time passed, he was over it, and then he developed a more serious crush on Nao after a while.

And it just keeps getting worse and Sora is not thrilled with that. In fact, he's panicking, because feelings.

He's spent a grand total of at least nine hours on the phone ranting to Momoharu (because again, Nao does not get mentioned to Chiaki, so Momoharu it is!)

The entire rest of the team is suffering. First years, second years, Tobi and Mokichi, and those who have graduated. No one is spared. The girls' team has been roped in as well. More than a few people bond over sheer doneness with these two idiots.

Tobi, calling Momoharu: I wanna Die.

Momoharu: Mood, why?

Tobi: Nao ‘as the biggest crush on Sora and won’t do anythin’ about it and I'm sufferin’.

Momoharu: CHRIST, NO -- HE'S DOING THE SAME THING I’M -- WHY IS THIS MY LIFE???

Tobi: Oh my God.

Tobi: I hate them both so, so much.

Momoharu, vehemently: Mood.

Tobi and Mokichi are bearing the brunt of it, and Momoharu is also dealing with quite a lot of the bullsh*t.

Tobi, bitterly, lying on his bed while on the phone with Mokichi and Momoharu: How immoral is it to lock two of yer best friends in a broom closet or locker an’ not let ‘em out ‘til they deal with their feelins like adults?

Mokichi, tiredly: Kenji-kun, no.

Momoharu: I hate to say this because I would like to see that, and it would be very cathartic, but no because they would die in that closet before fessing up.

Tobi:

Tobi: I hate that yer prolly right.

Shigeyoshi "literal actual angel" Kaname has been dealing with ranting from both parties since second year, and he and Tobi have taken to meeting up weekly for lunch or coffee for the sole purpose of complaining about their dumbass friends, and honestly? They get a lot closer because of it.

Tobi, throwing open the door to Mokichi’s house with a bang: KANAME YA ARE NOT GOIN’ TO BELIEVE THIS SH*T-

Mokichi, exasperated, staring down at his phone with its messages from Sora: Oh, I’m pretty sure I will.

Mokichi’s sister: How do you keep getting in-

Tobi: Oh I nabbed Kaname’s key like three months back.

Mokichi: wAIT is that where that go to I thought I lost it?!

Tobi: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Tobi gets roped into Sora's group of "people to rant to" with Mokichi and Momoharu and, at this point, Chiaki as well (Sora eventually told Chiaki, and Chiaki acted all comically betrayed but things were fine) (Momoharu mostly told people not to tell Chiaki in order to annoy Chiaki in all honesty.)

Tobi: Why the f*ck did I agree ta stay at this school

Mokichi: Why did I come to this school at all

Tobi: Why did I join tha basketball team

Tobi: Why did I let Sora become my friend

Tobi: How did I let Sora become my friend?????? Like how did tha’ even happen Jesus I'm still not sure

Mokichi: Poor decisions were made?

Tobi, vehemently: Poor decisions were made.

Then Nao gets a boyfriend and literally everything goes to sh*t (please read THIS POST for the context. It’s the same one I linked at the top. Again, this will make no sense without it. Go read.)

Nao is trying to get over her feelings for Sora because despite having no reason to believe so (having not... asked him about it), she firmly believes that he doesn't return them.

Mokichi has to actually physically restrain Tobi to prevent him from strangling them both on at least two occasions. Like seriously. Tobi might have really punched Sora if he hadn't been held back by local noodle-armed beanpole.

To this day absolutely none of the underclassmen (or Nao and Sora) are sure how Mokichi did that, because third-year Tobi is 180-something centimeters of pure wiry muscle and Mokichi, despite being a two-meter tall noodle, is still a noodle, and his arms are very very noodley.

Where he found the physical strength to restrain an angry Tobi is literally a complete mystery, because Tobi is strong to begin with but when you're trying to restrain his entire person from walking where he wants to? Good luck.

(The answer is he just wraps his longass noodle arms around Tobi and clings to him and is like "kay have fun dragging me around" and Tobi is like "ಠ_ಠ Kaname ya are heavy" "yes that is the point" "f*ck ya.")

Mokichi, whispering frantically on the phone: Momoharu-san please help Kenji-kun is trying to commit murder.

Tobi, yelling in the background: YA KNOW FULL WELL THA’ I CAN HEAR YA, KANAME!

Sora cries about Nao and Tobi is very tempted to just let him sulk, but Mokichi strongarms him into coming over to a sleepover at his house with Sora and basically the three of them just form a giant cuddle pile on the couch and watch stupid movies and eat a lot of ice cream while Tobi ribs Sora over anything and everything, and Sora soon finds himself laughing instead of crying.   

Sora loves his friends so much??? He’s so glad he stuck with the basketball team????  

Momoharu is this close to just blocking Sora's number.

"Sora. Sora you are one of my closest friends, and you know I love you, but I am in class for f*ck's sake-"

Seriously Sora keeps calling him just to b*tch about how horrible Nao's boyfriend is and Momoharu might actually go crazy.

If Sora drags on Nao’s boyfriend on more time Tobi is going to throttle him, he's had enough.

Mokichi is hitting the limits of his patience too, and that's actually an accomplishment.

But Tobi won’t lie, he’s getting a bad vibe off that guy? He does seem kind of sleazy? And when he hesitantly points that out over lunch with Mokichi -- they meet up just to complain about Nao and Sora at least once a week now -- Mokichi agrees, with a pensive frown, that he also has a bad vibe.

He doesn’t know, Mokichi says. Maybe they’re just all protective of Nao. Tobi sighs and agrees. 

Tobi is fully aware of his big brother reflex by this point, but he will never, ever admit that he has such a thing out loud. 

Turns out Sora was completely right about Nao’s boyfriend, though. (Even if it was just Sora being jealous, not actually Sora being intelligent.) The guy cheats on Nao, because he's a terrible person, and Sora is this close to hunting him down and committing murder, but he doesn't know what school he goes to.

Madoka calls Tobi to give him the guy's location, and Tobi goes, "please don' tell Sora tha's a bad idea" and Madoka goes "do you think I'm insane??"

Tobi and Madoka then absolutely thrash the guy and then get coffee afterwards and bond over oh my god, our friends are so dumb, because Madoka has been putting up with Nao's rants since first year.

Eventually Sora and the rest of the team convince (the very easily convinced) Tobi to give up the idiot's location and they all take a trip to beat the crap out of him.

Madoka then joins the I Have Pining Idiot Friends support group, which consists of Tobi, Mokichi, and Momoharu.

It's actually Madoka who finally decides to break the "no interfering" pact, after hearing about the sheer extent of the bullsh*t that's been happening, the parts that Nao didn't mention to her. She calls Sora and very tiredly goes "please just ask Nao-chan out, everyone is suffering."

Sora: wHAT

Tobi, eavesdropping as they're all changing: She told ya to ask Nao out

Tobi: Or I'm goin’ to deck ya I stg -- my patience is a very much finite resource, Sora.

Mokichi, tiredly: Please don't kill our captain

Tobi, ignoring him: Sora I am dead serious. Ask her out, or I will break yer nose, consequences be damned.

Tobi is So Relieved that the pact is over. He knew he'd catch grief for it if he broke it, and the second Madoka does, his reaction is "TIME TO PHYSICALLY THREATEN SORA INTO CONFESSING! YAY!"

Tobi, no.

Madoka is wheezing somewhere in the background but is also in full support of this movement.

After a large number of threats, Sora, bright red, stutters through asking Nao out to the amusement park or something, and Nao, also bright red, screams "WHAT" and Sora goes "Uh -- God, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-" and goes to run.

And smacks directly into Mokichi who's like, "Uh, no, you're going nowhere. I am so done."

Tobi, internally: Oh thank God fer Kaname.

Nao, still a tomato, manages to squeak out "I'd love to!"

After Sora and Nao get through the "Really?!" "Really!" part, Tobi dramatically falls to his knees and yells "THANK F*CKING GOD, FINALLY," which, fair.

(And as Sora and Nao are stuttering through a semi-normal conversation after that, maybe Mokichi is in the background, shyly asking Tobi out for coffee without the excuse of talking about Sora and Nao, because maybe their relationship went from "I don't want people to think we're friends" to "I guess you're decent" to "we're friends" to something unnamed and fragile and delicate and maybe a little bit precious. And maybe when Tobi leans against his shoulder and Mokichi wraps an arm around his waist at practice, no one is surprised.)

It's on their third date, in a park after going to a cafe, when Nao abruptly asks, "Sora-kun, can I kiss you?"

Sora short circuits (again.) And Nao freezes up and goes, "Sorry, sorry, too soon, I'm so sorry-" and Sora freaks out and goes, "NO, NO IT'S FINE, I was just -- just surprised!"

They both calm down and take deep breaths, and then Sora steps closer and gently cups the back of her head as her eyes go wide and he asks, "is this okay?" She nods and nervously places one hand around his neck. They lean into each other and kiss softly, and it feels right.

They’re both bright red but they’re both smiling like idiots, and Sora holds her close and thinks, “Godd*mn I got lucky.” He whispers that to her, and she laughs, flustered, and says “Yeah, I did too.”

After six weeks or so of going out, Nao and Sora make it a "boyfriend/girlfriend" thing and now if Mokichi or Tobi are asked if they're dating Nao, they say that she's dating Sora; Nao blushes and shyly corrects the person if they asked about Mokichi/Tobi, or shyly confirms if it was about Sora; Sora just smiles, and confirms that he's dating Nao, blushing.

Mokichi invites Momoharu, Madoka, and Chiaki to lunch with the third years when they have a day off from practice for the sole purpose of giving Nao and Sora a hard time about their mutual pining

Tobi swears up and down that he's going to read out the most embarrassing speech at their wedding and expose them to everyone there, and Nao and Sora both turn bright red and short circuit for a solid five minutes at the mention of marriage while the others laugh at them.

At the end of the year, Nao and Sora receive a trophy from their kouhai that says "Most Disastrous Couple Ever." Tobi and Mokichi didn't stop laughing for a solid twenty minutes, and Tobi is still giving them sh*t about the trophy five years later.

They both attend university and maintain their relationship throughout. Sora proposes when they’re both 29, at the same park where they had their first kiss, on the anniversary of the day they met, because he’s sappy AF. Tobi is rolling his eyes somewhere in the background. 

It’s a warm summer night. They get dinner at an expensive formal restaurant. He takes her to the park, and reminisces about the first time they went there together. It was the day Nao joined the team, he recalls. She had left after the practice game, and he had followed her. He had been so impressed by her, he tells her, and he still is. He doesn’t know how he came to deserve her, and she blushes and says she feels the same about him, that he’s just as amazing.

Sora covers her eyes and leads her to a ring of trees in the middle of the park, and uncovers them to reveal that they’re standing in a gazebo covered in flowers and fairy lights. And he smiles at her, and gets down on one knee. Nao’s hands fly to her mouth as he says, “I have been in love with you for well over ten years, and I would like to call you my family officially. Nanao Nao, my light, the love of my life, my everything, will you marry me?”

“Of course I will, you big sap!” she cries, tackling him, tears in her eyes, and kisses him. Neither of them care that they’re getting dirt on their suit and dress; the only thing that matters to either of them is each other. 

They get married roughly a year after. Madoka is Nao’s maid of honor. Sora’s best man is probably Momoharu, Tobi, or Mokichi. Maybe Chiaki? I don’t know. 

I almost want to make it Momoharu just because he would first completely drag Sora and Nao for their bullsh*t back in high school, grinning, and then invite Tobi up on stage to polish it off. Tobi, on the other hand, would just roast them on his own, which is probably why Sora decides not to make Tobi his best man. (“I trusted you, Momoharu-kun!” “Well that’s on you, Sora.”)

(And if Tobi catches the bouquet and gives it to Mokichi, no one’s saying anything.)

(They will, however, be saying things when Tobi gets down on one knee in the center of the dance floor an hour into the reception and says, “Given that our relationship was formed by bondin’ over these two idiots takin’ two and a half years ta get together, it only seems right that we tie tha knot because they did too. Kaname, will ya marry me?” Mokichi cries and says yes. Nao and Sora also cry. Yes, Tobi got their permission to steal their thunder beforehand. He was sorely tempted not to, just to get back at them, because yes he’s still salty about high school, but he figured he’d better ask.)

When they’re about 38, they adopt a daughter! And yes the others are her aunts and uncles.

Her name is Akari, which means light, and she is a problem child, but she's definitely not Tobi/Hanazono twins levels of problem child, and they love her anyway.

Her name is Nanao-Kurumatani Akari, because screw gender norms, says Sora. Nao’s reaction is “oh my God I love you so much.”

She was about 5 when they adopted her.

Her favorite uncle/aunt is Mokichi (absolutely no one understands why including Mokichi himself) and yes Tobi is mad.

Also Tobi adores her. Tobi sees a small child? Are you kidding me, have you seen him with his sister? Tobi seems like he'd be with horrible with kids but he loves the little sh*ts.

She plays basketball as a PF and she is so tall and yes, Sora is salty.

Scoring machine and inside player, but also learned strategy from Nao (after a terrible loss, she asked her mother to teacher her) and.... fear.jpg.

Basically, Sora and Nao are the most tooth-rotting-ly sweet, romantic, cliché in the best way, sappy, and adorable couple ever, and it’s bad for everyone’s dentist bills.

Here’s a Sora/Tobi edition (I apologize to SoraNao shippers because it’s twice as long and I didn’t even realize that for ages), because again, I have Tobi brainrot. God help me.

You can also check out my Ahiru no Sora Headcanons tag.

[capmaverick]

Day One: Shaky Hands

[Dark/Mature themes, character death, and self abuse]

His head was spinning.

Not as if it was something he wasn't used to. Whether it was from alcohol or taking a sucker punch, his vision was usually always spinning. But tonight wasn't a too-much-to-drink or a too-heavy-a-hitter kind of spinning.

Tonight was a tear-filled, emotionally messy kind of spinning.

Spot Conlon was a Brooklyn kid, born and raised, and he'd been working since the very beginning. These streets were his; he was known by many as the kid who never went down. Spot Conlon was a name to be afraid of. He took hits and dished them out better than anyone, and he'd take a life just to save his own.

At least, that’s what people said.

Most days, he lived up to the rumors, soaking anyone who wasn't Brooklyn who dared step into his turf. He was the kid who put others in the hospital for looking at him the wrong way. The one who'd put another down for messing with his boys. He was tough as nails; stronger than anyone.

He wasn't a baby. He didn't cry.

But tonight? Tonight everything had been ripped away from him all at once. Tonight he failed in the worst way possible; his heart had been ripped from his chest and his body was caving in on itself.

So his head was spinning and his hands were shaking and his body felt like it was going to collapse. 

And his hands. His goddamn hands.

Spot Conlon's hands didn't shake. He was steady as a rock and could knock out a man twice his size with one blow. His hands didn't shake.

He didn't think as he brought his fist to the brick wall that had been taunting him. Knuckles cracked into hard brick with a satisfying thud. The pain was instant, but it wasn't enough. He let another fist fly. 

Then another. 

And another.

And another until he heard a bone crack and felt the blood soaking between his fingers. Spot Conlon's hands didn't shake. He didn't show weakness.

He didn’t break.

Between punches, he didn't hear the door to the roof open behind him or the sound of footsteps approaching. No one should have been coming up here; he’d demanded to be left alone after all.

His vision was so screwed, when a hand dropped on his shoulder, he didn't bother looking at the owner. He redirected his fists, one landing square in the gut of whoever was stupid enough to come up here.

He didn't care who it was. It didn't matter. Nothing did anymore.

So he let another fist fly.

He wanted the fists to fly back, to hit him where it hurts the most. But they never did. The other took one step back, grabbing at Spot’s wrists to try and get him to stop swinging.

"--quit it, Spot!"

That voice broke through whatever violent spiral he was drowning himself in. Spot blinked twice, hesitation in his next punch.

He knew that voice.

Eyes met that of the poor Manhattan boy he had been beating on. Racetrack Higgins didn't look too taken aback by the hits; but he did look worried as hell.

"What the hells you doin' to yourself?" He asked, Manhattan accent thick.

Spot frowned, staggering away from the one real friend he had, looking down at his hands that were still shaking. Of course Race would be the one to come up here; he was the only one who gave a rat’s ass about Spot’s wellbeing. He should have seen this coming.

"Spotty?"

Race's voice was usually sure and steady, without fault. It was one of Spot’s favorite things about him. But tonight it wasn’t. It was quiet and broken. 

Because of Spot. 

Spot had broken him.

"I--"

But he couldn't bring himself to speak. All he could do was stare at the blood smeared on Race's cheek. Had he hit him in the face? 

"I hurt ya."

Race frowned, looking down at himself. As if he just noticed the pain in his body.

"Ya didn't. What the hells happened?"

That was Race. Always concerned about others first and himself last. He was too good that way.

The question hung in the air like a deadly, black cloud, weighing down on Spot’s shoulders. If anyone deserved to know, it was Racetrack. He had been there, through good and bad, and had seen the best and worst of the King of Brooklyn.

"I-- he--" and it all came back. The reason Spot was up here in the first place. The storm and the fight on the bridge. Twelve kids from Queens and three from Brooklyn.

The roaring water and the screaming.

The look on that poor kid’s face as he went up against those Queens boys. The gut wrenching scream as they threw him over. 

The last look of fear in his eyes before he hit the water.

The pain in his stomach as Spot tried to jump the railing after him, only to be stopped by his own.

The ringing in Spot’s ears as he was dragged off the Bridge, away from those Queen boys. Away from his drowning body in the river.

"He's dead because'a me!" Spot shouted, turning his back to Race. He wouldn't show weakness. Not here. 

Not in front of him.

His hands had never stopped shaking, but it was worse now as he thought about that poor little kid’s face as he went under the drink. It was a violent, unstoppable tremor that carried past his hands up into his arms and shoulders. His whole body was shaking, and it wasn’t from the fever that was sinking its claws into him.

When Race continued, his voice was back to steady, but slow and calculated. As if he wanted Spot to talk, without setting him off further. "Who's dead, Spot?"

"Joey."

Speaking his name took the last ounce of strength he had. Spot balled his shaking hands into fists, kicking angrily at the wall before collapsing to his knees.

Race didn't ask anymore questions.

He moved around to Spot's front, crouching down in front of him. There was no hesitation as he reached out and took both of Spot's shaking, bleeding hands in his own and squeezed them softly.

Almost immediately, the shaking slowed to a minor tremor.

Leave it to Race to know exactly what to do.

“We’s out on the Bridge,” Spot said, voice barely above a whisper. He didn’t know why he started talking but the words just kept flowing. “There was so many of them. Queen’s boys. Angry about… somethin’.” He couldn’t remember why right now. “I only had two fellas wit’ me. Hotshot and…”

Spot shook his head. He couldn’t even think of the poor kid’s face.

“We’s put up a good fight, but he was just a kid. Barely ten. They grabbed ‘im an’ dragged ‘im to the edge. Hotshot and me didn’t notice until it was too late. Last thing I seen was them boys throwin’ that poor kid off the Bridge. I tried to jump in after ‘em, but Hotshot pulled me back. And ‘em boy got away.”

Spot had sworn he’d get revenge for what had happened then and there. And he planned to keep it.

But right now, he hardly had the strength. Race would have to be enough for right now.

The Manhattan boy nodded, but didn’t say a word. He just squeezed Spot’s shaking hands gently, letting him know that he was there for him. And he wasn’t going anywhere.

The sounds of the city around them filled the spacr between them, as the city went to sleep - no one aware of the tragedy that had carved a piece out of the heart of Brooklyn.

They didn't speak for a long time as silent tears fell down Spot's face, the pain of the memory too much for him to bear any longer. Though, it didn't matter. 

Race would never tell.

All that was left to remind them were broken bones and a smear of blood on Race's cheek.

Neither said a word as Race pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and slowly started to clean the blood off Spot’s hands. 

Neither made eye contact as he wrapped the handkerchief around the worse hand, fingers wrapped so delicately around Spot's wrist.

Neither of them noticed when exactly Spot's hands stopped shaking, but by the time they stepped off of the roof, his tears were dry and his hands steady. The fire had returned to Spot's eyes and the mischievous grin had found its way back to Race's face.

As if it had never happened at all.

The only thing they had left to remind them was the broken bones and the smear of blood on Race's cheek.

[disarmingly]

for kofi anon who wanted slice of life yoonkook with a hint of magic except there’s more than a hint im sorry i hope this is okay let me know if it isnt i will try again! please note that the very first section takes place in ‘present day’ for them while everything after that first section is their past leading up to that present. <3

*

jeon jungkook is your average good looking sort of introverted loves music is good at video games and dancing and singing and pretty much anything else he tries...young man. except for one thing.

"one thing," his boyfriend half scoffs half whines, snuggling himself closer to jungkook's side like a petulant cat that despite being smaller in stature manages to take up more space. jungkook says it's the shoulders. namjoon says it's yoongi's ~personality~. they are both probably right. anyway we weren't talking about yoongi. we were talking about jungkook and how he's your average fresh university grad who can walk on his hands and do backflips and draw and paint and make anyone who looks at him too long fall in love with him and-- --yeah. "one thing~," yoongi repeats with a groan and presses his face to jungkook's shoulder. bites him absently for good measure. jungkook yelps. * jungkook's magic manifested when he turned sixteen. "like a fucking disney princess," yoongi scowled the first time It happened. 'It' was a boy who had never met jungkook before, meeting his eyes in the supermarket and going five different shades from red to pink before stumbling over to him and babbling something along the lines of 'you're so beautiful oh my god'. yoongi, there at the time, stood to his full shorter height and stood slightly in front of a baffled jungkook, tilted his head at the blushing boy and said, "you're not wrong, but he's taken." the stranger apologized several times and walked away but both yoongi and jungkook were definitively aware of his eyes on jungkook their whole way through the checkout and out the automatic doors. "what the hell was that?" yoongi's hypothetical question would get its answer in the days and nights to follow as one by one jungkook felled multitudes of strangers and some not-strangers (much more awkward) -- not with a sword but with his....well...whole self. * some people's magic comes out at birth. some require a certain age. some are catalyzed by an event or even a special word. yoongi wishes jungkook could have been one of the minority of people in the world who didn't have magic at all. or that his magic could be something useful, like a magically present umbrella whenever he needed it. but no. jungkook's magic is exactly the kind of magic an average golden boy like jungkook would have: love. * "but it doesn't last," jungkook points out, shelving a book 'about soulmates and inevitable doom' where it actually belongs (certainly not with the gardening books, though jungkook was amused to find it there.) in addition to being temporary, if it's happened once, it doesn't happen again, so at least there's that.  but yoongi, crouched low and properly ordering the books on the bottom shelf makes a clicking noise with his tongue to show exactly what he thinks and feels about that. jungkook sighs. "what do you want me to do? never leave the house again? i have to go to school--" "of course not!" yoongi's voice is louder than either of them expect it to come out. they get appropriately shushed. jungkook's ears turn red and yoongi feels immediate guilt for embarrassing him but he has a point to make. he continues, more quietly, "...that's...that’s not what i want." for a while they just keep silently setting this particular bookshelf's contents to rights. students file out. a few teachers leave. goodbyes and groans of 'see you tomorrow' get passed back and forth. at some point yoongi shuffles his way closer to jungkook, close enough to lean against his leg the way cats press along a person's shins when they want to say 'pet me human'. jungkook does in fact run his fingers through yoongi's dark dark hair, wishes yoongi wasn't quite so low to the ground so he could run them down to brush back and forth against his undercut; but later. there's something almost as therapeutic about petting as being petted. maybe that's just them. that's fine. when yoongi takes jungkook's wrist, it's just to tug his hand forward and kiss the palm, kiss his wrist, nose against his pulse and say, "i don't want you under house arrest. i want to take you to the movies. i want to go to the fair with you so you can win me stuff i don't need. i want to sit on the beach with you and everyone and toast marshmallows and....and all of the stuff we do. i want to walk to school with you. even if i'm not going here soon anymore." the last one hits hard. they haven't really talked about it. how yoongi going to university and jungkook still in high school will put a steep cut into their time...doing anything, house arrest or no. yoongi kisses his hand again. jungkook lowers himself so they can be closer. "that's very romantic," he says and he smiles too wide, so wide it hurts, smiles against the crying feeling. they're not breaking up. he shouldn't feel so sad. that's what he's been telling himself. but maybe yoongi understands. because yoongi says, "hey...hey come on." yoongi's arms fit around jungkook perfect. yoongi's mouth to jungkook's mouth also fits perfect. and yoongi's low toned reassurances of, "it's okay. it's okay," fit perfect enough. because it's more complicated than that, but sometimes perfect enough is about wanting to do the right thing even if one doesn't know precisely what that is. right now yoongi wants to let jungkook know he loves him. so he tells him it's okay. and he means all of it: the change of time and distance, jungkook's sometimes infuriating magic, and so on. it's okay. * what jungkook said is true. the effects of his magic which he can't control unless he never meets anyone's eyes ever again (impossible), vary in time. for some people predisposed to loving him already, the effects last longer. for absolute strangers, it seems the effects last anywhere from 24 hours to a week, the latter end of which is harrowing when it's someone who goes to school with him or lives in his neighborhood. but one of the things yoongi dislikes most about going to university is all the time away from jungkook in which god knows how many people are falling in love with him. the harmless ones are negligible he supposes; but some get pushy. he remembers several instances of people following jungkook home, waiting outside his window, and even ambushing him in empty classrooms. and it's not that jungkook can't take care of himself. jungkook is a soft heart but he knows how to defend himself and yoongi and the others have worked very hard to help him realize he's worth defending. still. yoongi's phone buzzes. he frowns and pulls to the side of the rode. dropping his feet to the ground with some difficulty. stupid namjoon and his stupid long legs; yoongi apparently didn't adjust the seat of the borrowed bicycle enough. whatever. he gets his phone out and his eyes widen. he sends a quick reply then bikes the rest of the way to the local high school so fast and so not within the standard cycling laws that no less than fifteen cars blare their horns at him en route. * he drops the bicycle in a hurry to get to jungkook who's seated on the curb with his head to his knees to avoid further incidents. it speaks volumes how tired he must be because he doesn't move and this scares yoongi more than almost anything, so when he lays a careful hand on jungkook's shoulder and jungkook jerks under his touch, he's honestly relieved, though he doesn't want to upset him. jungkook's eyes have dilated to be lamp-like. yoongi does the first thing that comes to his muscle memory and drops a kiss to jungkook's forehead. then he leans back and studies him. he has a split lip already swollen and starting to bruise at the right corner. right cheek too. there's a shallow bleeding scrape along his jaw too, smudged with gravel and dirt and yoongi's emotions can't settle on furious or devastated so he's both. he wants to frame jungkook's face but doesn't want to aggravate his bruises; and anyway he knows full well they should clean him up first, probably grab some antiseptic, some bandaids, an ice pack. jungkook sighs. "hey," yoongi settles for curling his hand on one of jungkook's knees. jungkook cracks half a smile. it looks like it hurts. "it's a little like a curse isn't it," jungkook says and he means it to come across as a joke but it falls flat because it's sort of true. "kook--" "i've never had it happen like that." jungkook interrupts and it's quiet. still pool quiet. yoongi aches. listens -- not just for jungkook's words but equally to his silence. cars pass. a little girl and her mother and a giant golden retriever start to pass by but not before the golden catches jungkook's tired eyes and pulls them over to him. he licks at jungkook's face and the mother is apologizing profusely but jungkook is giggling and then laughing and so yoongi fills in for him, "it's fine. this happens a lot." "dogs like him huh?" the mother says, clearly relieved and also bemused now. the little girl is curiously watching while petting the dog's fur the wrong way. a closer look has the mother frowning though and it's a fair question when she asks, "...are you both okay?" it's more delicate than yoongi associates with most parental strangers. he hates when people assume they know best or think they have the right to butt in just because they are 'an adult' or a parent or whatever. but she says it cautiously, like she knows it might be none of her business but is unwilling to ignore a boy with a fast blooming black eye; and that, yoongi can respect. so he says, "we will be." pauses. "thanks." the mother nods and they leave soon. jungkook watches them go, tension drawn out of him leaving him purely exhausted. yoongi had thought they would double-up on the bicycle because that's what they usually do, jungkook gleeful with the wind carding through his hair as yoongi pedals and complains that jungkook should be the one doing this; but that was before he got jungkook's text. seeing his line of vision, jungkook says, "can we...can we just walk?" yoongi kisses his temple very carefully, reaches for his hand and says, "whatever you want." * it's this near nightmare that spurs namjoon and taehyung into action. or rather, faster action. because they had been working on various experiments ('wasting' lab equipment but not really in their opinion and taehyung could charm the legs and arms off of a living person so they've gone unpenalized anyway) before. but when they all meet up next on the beach, jungkook's bruises and cuts still in the early stages of healing, it's too much. they go as far as to hide in cupboards ('how did you fit????' hoseok asks at some point, and namjoon just grimaces and says 'i fit okay') so they can stay in the school lab over night. this goes on for months and it's a bitter cold day in january when namjoon and taehyung (both slightly very too caffeinated) slam into jimin's garage (a modified hangout room complete with video game consoles, a bunch of musical instruments, a sofa, and a beanbag chair) and say, "we did it!" and then, "well, we think we did it." * magic is not science. but maybe science can be a little magic. jungkook's magic is the magic of love at first sight.  namjoon's magic is the understanding of how things work. taehyung's magic is tricks of light. the perfectly round glasses they give jungkook that day are a product of both of these things, as well as the disciplined persistence of friendship. when jungkook puts them on, yoongi melts a little and thinks: how is this supposed to help if he's cuter than ever? but it does help. jungkook tests it on the first stranger he sees the next day -- a transfer student whose eyes happen to fall on jungkook first. he blinks. then he looks away. jungkook lets go of a breath so loud the people seated next to him turn and stare. he flushes pink from cheeks to ear tips; slides down in his chair -- embarrassed...and jubilant. * "weirdly it doesn't work on animals?" jungkook half says half asks but it doesn't matter. he loves animals and if that was all his magic had an effect on he wouldn't need these glasses in the first place. "huh," namjoon says which means he's going to pursue the why of it. "which you're very happy about," yoongi says. jungkook hums affirmative. they laugh. * they're walking back from the beach -- having declined seokjin's offer to drive them, wanting to have a little more time alone before parting ways (yoongi to his shared apartment with namjoon, jungkook back to the house with his family) -- and they're holding hands when jungkook pauses so quickly it jars yoongi to a stop. he trips. jungkook keeps him from falling. "sorry." "'s okay. uh...?" yoongi squints. in the sundown light jungkook's pink hair has a lavender cast. and jungkook has his special glasses on but yoongi's as deep in love as ever. that's not magic though. it's just how yoongi feels. it's this and other sappy thoughts he's having when jungkook angles his head down until their foreheads touch, brushes his nose against yoongi's nose and says, "no one's around." oh. yoongi's relaxed look goes narrow again but he's no good at denying jeon jungkook anything. he sighs. "fine." * yoongi's magic, though it rarely comes into play because it's too flashy and yoongi by nature isn't a flashy person, is also special. * an interesting thing about human beings: they rarely look up. but if they did on this particular night, they might see this: two boys holding hands and kissing against the pink lilac blue of twilight, the emerging moon as their backdrop, some 1800 feet up in the air. *

[joculatrixster]

not to be that guy but the whole “light skin poc exist” is a tactic often used to demean black ppl who want to be seen as apart of cultures which demean them...like colorism is a whole thing and you’re perpetuating it bro

omg i made a whole reply to this then backspaced like an idot so ill just say this, being dark skinned isnt an insult and i dont think light skinned ppls issues over shadow dark skinend issues to preface, ik u didnt say that anon but my post could have and has bee interpreted that way. my post was a vent, a poorly worded vent i made while crying and shaking iver one stupid post and honestly i regret makign the post thwn replying to ppl so much it jsut made me not think straight and those dms made it alot worst. but to answer the actual ask i do understand that, thats not hat my psot was saying but holy fuck i missed the mark with my post, i wrongly assumed ppl would understand it when i couldn't tupe straight and was wayyy to in my feleings, thats completely my fauly and i get why ppl thought i was being colorist or racist because i wasnt makign my points clear and r wanst till those dms i relized the main issue. im uncomfortable when characters r changed, like in general if a characters skintone, gender, heritage, all that good stuff is changed or tesited i get uncomfortable, its worst for comfort characters or kins and definitely affects me more with mixed, light skinned characters, women, or bi characters because well those r my identities. that being said my post could have been read as "thats equal to whitewashig, its equally as offensive to be made darker" wich holy shit is not what i was trying to say and im so sorry to my followers and mutuals who read it that way, i know white washing is horrendous and im aware of the racist history it has, i was not thinkign clearly and chose an example i could think of wich i diffintly was an asshole for equavalitign them because they r far from equal, i don't want white ppl to see me as a poc and decide i gave them a pass to do whitewashing because "shes black and she said they were also bad too!" uh uh thats not it. i was trying to make the point "seeing characters thaat repent me being treated like they r not good representation because thwy look like me amkes me uncomfortable because it reminds me of how many ppl dont see light skinned ppl as ppl with struggles too or as good enough representation, can we all jsut agree there needs to be more dark skinned characters and not change established ones in fanart?" but i came off as "racebeding is all bad, u dakr skinned artist r offending me because u think u have issues well we all have issues so there!" right anon? thats ok if u read it like that, well not rlly ok but i see how i fucked up. and well yeah i jsut wanted to be out and open about this because its rlly stupid that i didnt take a moment to save psot as drafe and come back later, i let a stupid dm conversation make my mood worst when i should have just blocked the op wayyy back when they kept ignoring what i was saying and tried everything to make me seem worst, i rlly like rllllllly should have dmed my other black friedns about it so they could have helped me calm down instead of venting on discord because ily guys but u kinda made me feel justified more when i made a badly worded post with comparing it to white washing. ig this is jsut an ask im using to own up to my post? ur ask is barelt about this but the other ask i got also gave me a slap in the face because the person was obviously white and used the word "woke" which is antisjw talk meaning "minority who wants to be acknowledged" and like fuckign HELL i wanted my post to be used to devalue other black and poc voices i rlly wasnt trying to do that i was trying to point out a thin that i think is a bit of an issue and wanted to see if other light skinned poc could relate to my specific struggle, i instead gave ppl a post that made them feel like i dont think dark skinned ppl deserve representation wich wasnt what i ment at all and im jsut rlly sorry to anyone who read my post thinking i ment that. also in case anyone wants to say im not taking responsibility for calling it a vent i genuinely wasnt in the right mental state and i get way too defensive when upset, ive done something similar on my side blog and im working on the issue but currently the best thing for me to do is take a break so ive deleted the app for now and will come back after a few days when i stop begin as emotionally affected, see yall later.

[fiendfluid]

i can’t believe im posting this but here we are. i haven’t wrote anything serious in 3 years so its probably not amazing but ya gotta start somewhere, and where better then the destruction of fang and kerry’s friendship?

“We're just friends.”

It shouldn't feel weird to hear that coming from Kerry. Because its true; they are friends. The best of friends hopefully, if you figured out how many years they had maintained this relationship despite their differences. Just.. friends.

It makes Fang's stomach feel queasy, his face heats up at the words even though there's no reason to have a reaction to them. Of course they're friends, what kind of question was that? Kerry stuck around through all of Fang's bullshit and whining, they had to be friends.

But here they are, sitting on the bus in excruciatingly awkward silence.

Its partly Fang's fault, they realize, after having a minor freak out for no reason and then not explaining the freak out, Kerry is giving them the cold shoulder. Which isn't too different from being around Kerry normally, but instead of comfortable silence in which Fang could rattle on about stupid things, they're both  tensed up and avoiding any form of contact as if they aren't just sitting right beside each other.

“We're just friends.”

Some part of Fang rises up, petty and vicious. 'That's not what you said last night, or when you were high in my lap, whispering in my ear.'

He can't say that to Kerry, though. There's a shred of self preservation still intact inside of Fang to keep him from saying something that mean to his best friend. The bucket load of abandonment issues helps keep the words down, too.

Kerry is watching them quietly fight with themself, concerned but prideful.

Fang drags his fingernails down his arm, catching on the plastic band aids by his wrist. They almost laugh out loud at the absurdity of it all; Kerry's the one who's in love with them, not the other way around.

Kerry's staring openly, still silent as fucking ever but the concerned look has morphed into something new and raw, and it hurts to see him looking at them like that and he won't stop-

“Stop looking at me.” Is what Fang snarls, glaring venomously at Kerry. He's screaming in his head to shut up and stop making things worse but auto pilot Fang the Idiot is running the show now and its a sold out crowd to watch him ruin his one and only relationship worth a damn.

To Kerry's credit, he doesn't even stop to look hurt. No, he rises to the jab and fires straight back at Fang, voice slightly hoarse from drowsiness, “Then stop getting angry over nothing!”

It hurts. It hurts a lot and it shouldn't.

And Kerry isn't done talking yet.

“You can't just get pissy at me because something random set you off again.” Kerry snaps, “That's not fair.”

He's right.

Fuck him for being right.

What's not fair is this bullshit Kerry's dragged them into, they didn't ask for whatever this is to go this far. It was clean cut and simple for so long, why did he have to complicate it by making Fang feel things?

Fang's aware that Kerry is getting angrier and angrier the more the silence drags on without a response. A part of Fang wonders if just kissing Kerry would fix things. It worked during a few fights before, yanking him down from his high perch and knocking the wind out of him had stopped arguments in their tracks.

And it felt nice, with an arm slung around Kerry's shoulders to keep him within reach--as if he'd try to move away—the other hand weaving into his hair. Last time Fang kissed him, he was didn't see it coming at all. He had gasped against Fang's lips softly, and a little bit delighted. He was bent basically in half to meet Fang, gangly limbs wrapping quickly around them.

This wasn't helping, some miserable part of Fang pointed out.

But Fang wants to hold Kerry right now, keep him close and never let anything take him away. They want to get high together again, have Kerry sit in their lap all relaxed and laughing softly over some dumb shit. Wants to relive all those times sitting outside the hospital room on the verge of tears, but feeling safe because Kerry was there, and nothing was going to happen if he was there.

The jolt of the bus startles Fang out of his thoughts. Kerry doesn't say a word as he grabs both their bags and stomps toward the bus's exit. He's waiting on the pavement silently when Fang finally stumbles out, and completely ignores Fang's half-assed offer to carry their own bag.

If Fang thought the bus ride had been awful, the walk back home was even worse, and Kerry didn't seem to be in the mood to change it any time soon. Not that Fang was even trying to make things better, currently desperately searching through memories for some warning that this moment was going to happen eventually.

This isn't their worst fight, not even close. They've had bigger arguments over dumber things and gotten over it in a matter of minutes. This doesn't feel like something that's going to fix itself over a half order of french fries from the food vendor they pass every day on the way to Fang's apartment. There's something that's fundamentally important to their relationship just hanging in the air between them right now, and it wants two, emotionally stunted people, to delicately talk this through.

Fang lags behind, listening to Kerry's repetitive, loud foot falls, trying not to stare at his ass too much, afraid that Kerry might have some freaky third eye on his ass waiting to call them a fucking loser. Fang's procrastinating.

The chance to say something-anything is rapidly slipping away. Kerry's buzzing up to Fang's apartment and soon he's gonna leave, and you're gonna be alone again and he's not coming back-

“Why'd you say that.” Fang blurts out, it doesn't even sound like a question.

Kerry swings around slowly, staring down at Fang with a look of annoyance, but he's gone a little red around his ears. “Say what, Fang?” he sounds strained.

“You know what,” Fang says, fiddling over and over with the hem of their shirt, “'We're just friends.'”

He barely reacts to his own words back in his face. Just a raised eyebrow and a sigh that's almost a growl of frustration. He looks really pretty.

“Because, that's what we are.” His voice is clipped, “What do you want from me?”

And that surprises Fang for some stupid reason; what the fuck did he want from Kerry right now? What even was the point of bringing this up and breaking apart something that was working soundly so far.

Kerry's biting his lip, not looking at them save a few nervous glances. He decides to busy himself by buzzing the apartment to let them in again and sighs with what sounds like relief when the door unlocks.

“I'll see you later.” Kerry says, bumping into Fang as he steps away from the door to let them pass.

Say sorry, say you're sorry, say you're sorry you asshole.

“H-hey wait!” Fang cringes, that was so desperate, but it works and Kerry actually stops.

He doesn't say anything, just waves his arms in a vague, tense motion to say whatever Fang wanted to convey. Kerry's eyes are flitting everywhere, clearly uncomfortable.

“I-” I'm sorry. “I-”

“What?”

“I-uhm-” I'm sorry, just say it-

“I'm in love with you?”

Good job.

Kerry goes ridged, a blush instantly breaks out across his face. Fang wants to die and then come back to life just to die again.

“Wha-Y-you? I-I'm??-” Kerry is stuttering, arms flailing alarmingly.

Fang opens their mouth, then closes it again after a second thought. There's a ringing in their ears that's hopefully the sound of their brain self destructing so they don't have to exist in this universe any longer.

“I'm sorry-” So now you can say it?!

That was the wrong thing to say, apparently. Kerry whirls on Fang, shaking furiously, pointing an accusing finger at their face. He looks like he's about to cry and oh god, Fang fucked up.

“Sorry? What even—how do you think any of that was okay?” Kerry shouts, its slightly terrifying. “You can't just say whatever the fuck comes to your head and hope it makes things better! What is wrong with you?”

Fang wants to yell, wants to scream that he's not just saying shit because holy fuck he's in love with Kerry and he doesn't want this to be it. But his voice abandons him when tears spill from Kerry's eyes and he's glaring at Fang like they've killed him.

“Just--don't talk to me.” Kerry chokes, stumbling back, wiping his palms against his face, valiantly trying to remain stoic.

Fang actually manages to step forward as Kerry starts moving away, arms outstretched to do something.

“Welp,” Fang says to no one, when Kerry is out of sight, and everything is awful again. “I fffffucked up.”