Bitterfairy98 - Bitterfairy98 - Tumblr Blog

You’re leaving school when you finally get it out of him. You’ve been nagging him about that bruise all day and you finally break through. “I’m not going to leave you alone! I’m worried! Are your parents abusing you? Did someone attack you?” “No! It’s a hickey ok?!” You stop, “What…” He stops too, “What? Because I’m shy and antisocial I can’t get it on?” You stare in disbelief, then snap, “No! Because your BROTHER just came back from Werewolf HELL where he probably almost DIED and you’re missing school, not to see your brother, but to go get chicks?!” He snorts, “What? No! I’ve been hanging out with Jr, but do you expect me to follow him around and mope and cry over him twenty four/seven? He didn’t even have a hospital bed for me to cry at. He literally just used his condition as an excuse to eat a TON of food and then went around and flirted with literally anyone within arms length. Should I have followed him around and watched him make out with people? No thanks.” You open your mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. If you’re being honest, that sounds exactly like Jr… You close your mouth, then say, “What about missing school?” He shrugs and kind of grins a little shyly, “I’m pretty sure ANYONE would use any excuse to get out of school for a while…” Once again, you can’t argue. This is true. You had tried to use stubbing your toe as an excuse to miss school, so you aren’t exactly in any position to judge. You sigh, “Why couldn’t you have just TOLD me it was a hickey? Most guys would be bragging about it. I was really worried. And what if you’re lying? Now I don’t know WHAT to think…” He sighs, “I’m not lying. I’m shy and antisocial remember? I’m not just gonna brag about getting laid. That’s not cool. That’s private. It’s none of YOUR business. I shouldn't have to tell you when I’m in a relationship…” You feel shame rise in you, he’s right, and probably one of the only decent guys you know. But you didn’t know it was a hickey. And you were worried. You look down, then back at him, “You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. But I WAS worried. I didn’t even consider that it could be a hickey.” He chuckles a little, “You know what that tells me? You need a boyfriend.” You take it back. He’s not a decent guy. He’s a prick. You glare at him, “I do NOT. I’m not interested in dating. Guys are nothing but trouble." He leans back, looking offended, “I’m not trouble…” You can’t help but laugh, “YES. YOU ARE.” He grins, “But you’re not supposed to know that remember? I’m shy and antisocial.” You laugh again and head towards your house, “Oh yeah… I’ll keep that in mind…”

A week. You don’t see Jr or his brother for a week. You’re feeling like you’re about to lose your mind when you finally see him. Sam is walking to school, practically glowing. You run up to him, “Hey! You’re finally back! I thought I was gonna die of boredom!” He laughs and shrugs, grinning shyly. You can’t help but laugh at that, he’s so shy. It’s sweet. Then you notice a bruise on his neck. It disappears under his shirt collar. You frown, “What’s that?” He reaches up self consciously and rubs it, then, realizing what it is, covers it, “Nothing. Don’t worry about it…” You frown, “Don’t worry about it? You’re bruised… Did…” You lower your voice, “Did your mom hit you?” You know his mom is fiery, and very possibly capable of hitting her sons…. The bruise looked pretty bad, from what you saw. It was very dark. Sam shakes his head quickly, “N-no! It’s…. Nothing…. I said don’t worry about it….” You frown deeper, “I can’t just not worry about it. I’m your friend. Is someone hurting you?” He snorts. It almost seems like…. A laugh? But he composes himself quickly, “I said I’m fine. Stop worrying.” You glare, “I just said I won’t! And why are you laughing at me?!” He shrugs, “You’re just cute when you’re mad…” You groan, “You’re just like Jr! How did I ever think you were nice?! Why do I even hang out with you?! You’re such a brat!” This manages to break a grin from him. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him grin. He’s always so shy. But he seems to be in a very good mood today… Duh. He just got his brother back from Werewolf Hell…. You glare, “You have nothing to say to that? No defence? No snarky comment?” He shrugs, “I’ve never once claimed not to be a brat. Come on. We’re late for school.” You glare, “Oh really? So that matters now? You’re dodging the conversation.” He nods, “I am,” and walks past, heading for school. You hurry after him, cursing quietly under your breath. Why do your friends have to be the full of themselves, snobby, brats? Why can’t you just have NORMAL friends? You sigh. You’ve pretty much resigned yourself to your fate… There’s no escaping it, so you might as well get used to it…

Sam isn’t at school the next day. You figure he’s probably with the family, celebrating Jr’s return. You resist the urge to snort. You’re not even sure they would celebrate that. They aren’t exactly the nicest people…. But, you’re sure, at least Sam would want to celebrate it… You sigh. You’re really glad they get to reunite with each other and be happy and all that good stuff. But you’re also really bored… You didn’t realise how close you and Sam had gotten nor how much he entertained you, until he didn’t show up today. You sigh again and rest your chin in your hand. You will be happy for them and let them have their family time, but you’ll also be relieved when they’re back to entertain you….

You sit on his bed and stare around his room. It’s so simple it’s almost sad. The only thing that decorates it is a picture on his dresser. It’s a picture of him and his brother. He has an arm slung over his shoulder and is laughing. His brother is smiling, cheeks red. He looks like he wants to hide, though he also looks happy. You smile. They both look happy. The door opening makes you jump. You look at the door and are surprised to find Jr there, fully dressed… You smirk, “Wow, you actually came dressed!” He smirks back, “I mean, I could go do it again and come back naked. I wouldn’t mind…” You throw a pillow at him, “I will LEAVE.” He grins and comes over, climbing on the bed. You scoot back to give him room. He sits cross legged, “Ok. Ask.” You nod, “How long have you been a werewolf?” “I was born one.” You frown, “But your brother said you were bit…” Jr snorted, “Well he’s a little liar.” You frown, “Oh. Well then, why isn’t HE a werewolf? Ya’ll are related…” Jr shrugs, “The werewolf bloodline isn’t indefinite. Not everyone is born a werewolf just cuz their parents are. Besides, my mom’s not a werewolf, so our blood's not even pure…” You nod, “So your dad’s the werewolf? Was he born one?” Jr shakes his head, “No. He was bit.” You nod, “Do you turn by the full moon?” Once again, he shakes his head, “No. Well yes, but we can learn not to. I don’t. Neither does my father.” You nod again, “Ok. Have you ever bit anyone?” Jr rolls his eyes, “NO. I’m not a monster…” You lift your hands, “Ok, I was just wondering. Has your dad?” “No!” Jr glares. You scoot a little further back. Jr presses his lips together and glares at you. You say, “Have you always had such a bad temper?” You know you’re just feeding the fire, but you can’t stop it from coming out. Much to your surprise, Jr laughs, “Yes. Since I was a baby.” You say, “Why do you always act like such a jerk?” Jr shrugs, “Because I can? Nothing’s gonna happen to me. Besides, the world's fucked with me enough. I think I have a bit of a right…” You glare, “No one has a right. You get what you get. Being mean isn’t going to change that.” He flashes a grin, “Keep telling yourself that baby girl.” You glare, “Don’t call me that.” Jr smirks, “Or what?” “Or I’ll slap you,” you bite out. Jr shrugs, “Whatever. Do you have any more questions?” You glare. And here you were, thinking he was starting to be nice… You should have known better. He’ll always be the same jerk you found on the streets. You say, “Yeah. How do you stand your mom?” Jr laughs again, “Barely. She’s where I get it from, haven’t you noticed?” You snap, “You say that like it’s not a bad thing! You shouldn’t be MEAN to people! Why is it SO HARD to be nice to people?” Jr crosses his arms, “PEOPLE AREN’T NICE. Why am I required to be nice to people who are just going to turn around and call me a monster?!” He bites his cheek, looking away. Ha. Got him. You watch him, “That touched a nerve a little bit.” Jr glares at you, “Are you done?” You nod, “Yeah. I am.” “Then get out.” You get up and walk out. He stays seated, not even watching you leave the room. Your heart is hammering wildly for some reason. You don’t know whether you’re terrified or excited… His parents watch you as you exit the house. As soon as you’re out you run for town. You have the urge to laugh, but you also kind of want to cry. You’re not sure whether to be excited that you finally got SOMETHING real from him, or sad that he has to have such a difficult life…

His mother interrupts, “Speaking of which, Jr, go take a shower and change. You’re disgusting and you’re getting filth all over my couch…” Jr gets up immediately, “Sorry… Come on…” You blink, “You’re going to take a SHOWER. I’m NOT coming with you.” Jr rolls his eyes, “You can hang in my room 'til I get out, just come on…” You glare. He frowns, “Please…” You sigh and get up, “Fine. But if you walk out naked, or with a towel on, or without a shirt-” He laughs, “I get it! I’m not…” He heads down the hall. You follow, “Where is your room?” He slips in a door, “Right here.” You stop, blinking. You’re not sure WHAT you had been expecting, but it’s definitely not this… His room is…. Not much bigger than yours…. There’s a bed, a dresser, and a closet. There’s not even a bedside table or a lamp. Admittedly, the bed itself is nice. It’s a good size, with thick covers and soft pillows, but even that isn’t as expensive as you would have thought it would be. Nothing in here is even name brand. You always figured all rich people had name brand EVERYTHING… You frown, “Where’s the built in bathroom? Aren’t you supposed to, like, have one connected to every room or something?” Jr laughs, “What? No. Why would I need my own bathroom?” You look at him, “I… Don’t know… Because your…. Rich?...” Jr laughs again, “Just because my parents are rich doesn’t mean they’ve doused me with lavish everything…” He goes to the dresser and starts pulling out clothes. You watch, “They could at least give you something better than an old, wore out jacket…” He turns and glares, “If I WANTED something different I could have asked for it. I liked that jacket.” You lift your hands in surrender, “Sorry for mentioning it… Grab your clothes so you don’t have an excuse to come back in here naked…” Jr smirks at that and finishes pulling out his pants and underwear. You find yourself looking away. You hear him open his closet door and some ruckus as he jerks a shirt off a hanger, then he walks over to you. You look at him. He pauses, “You can go in you know… Make yourself comfy. I don’t mind if you sit on my bed. There’s really no where else to sit anyway…” And with that, he’s gone. You stare after him. Why is he suddenly being so nice? Is it because he’s in familiar territory, or did that enclosure change him? You shrug to yourself and go to his bed. Guess now all there is to do is wait…

Jr’s home is very large and very nice, as expected from someone as powerful as his dad. Everything is in pristine condition. It’s almost uncomfortable how perfect everything is. In each room you pass, there’s at least one bell, sitting on a small table. Jr and his family go to the living room and you follow. His mother sits on the edge of the couch. His father stays standing. Jr sits comfortably on a different couch and pats the seat beside him. You go and sit by him. He leans back, pulling his feet under him. It’s such a comfortable and vulnerable position, you almost feel like you should look away. Surely you shouldn’t be seeing Jr like this, who always acted strong and cold? Surely he’d be embarrassed? But he doesn’t seem embarrassed at all. He watches you, unblinking. You sit awkwardly until he breaks the silence, “I guess you decided I wasn’t HORRIBLE… For a monster?” Immediately you want to slap him. Arrogant little prick! You JUST got out and you’re ALREADY trying to provoke me? But you smile a little anyway, “I…  Haven’t decided yet…” You shrug and look at the floor nervously. Really, if you’re honest with yourself, you have. But you’re not confident enough to admit it yet... He watches you. You don’t look up to see him, but you can feel his eyes burning into you. “Then why’d you wait for me? Why’d you send me messages? Why’d you bring Sam to me?” You look up, “His name’s Sam?” He blinks, then shrugs, “Yeah…” You frown, “Oh… I’ve known him for so long and never even thought of asking his name…” Jr smirks, “Well you ARE a little scatterbrained…” You glare, “You literally JUST got out and you’re already being a jerk…”

The next few months pass in a blur. You and Jr’s brother go to the wall often, so he can see Jr. Unfortunately, you don’t HAVE any powers, so you can’t go over the wall. You wait outside instead, and he tells you how he’s doing and delivers messages back and forth. School seems almost pointless, but you do it anyway, not paying attention to anything you’re doing. You don’t even know if you’re passing any of your classes. You don’t really pay attention to much of anything, except visiting and frequently questioning Jr’s brother on how things are going with his dad. Sometimes you think you’re annoying him with so many questions, but you can’t exactly do anything else, so you’re left to worry and ask questions… You’re about to go insane with not being able to do anything when you see a car driving slowly down the road. Cars are fairly rare, considering how expensive they are. Most people walk everywhere. Everyone moves out of the way and your heart stops when you glance through the window. Jr… He’s slumped in the passenger seat, head hanging, dirty hair laying limp, covering his face. He’s still in the same clothes he went in, but they’re ripped and filthy. He’s skinny, not healthy looking. You run after the car, following it all the way to his house. You feel tears of relief burning your eyes. He’s ok… Well… Not really, but he WILL be ok… You run up to it when it stops, not even flinching when his dad steps out of the car. You stop at the passenger door, but his dad pushes past you, “Who do you think you are?” You flush, “Oh… Sorry… I’m… A friend of his… I’ve been really worried about him…” His dad snarls, “Well he doesn’t feel well right now. Come back later.” You glare, “I want to make sure he’s ok.” “He’s fine.” “I don’t know that-” “Dad…” Jr’s voice cuts across the argument and you realise he’s opened the door. You and his dad look at him at the same time. He says, “She’s fine. She’s a friend…”, stepping out. He’s a lot stronger than he looks. He’s thin and dirty and his eyes are bloodshot, but he doesn’t seem to have any problem standing. He smiles at you, “I didn’t expect you to be so worried about a monster…”

You glare, “Shut up,” but can’t stop yourself from hugging him. He stiffens, but then wraps his arms around you, “Wow I never thought I’d miss such a little brat so much…” You laugh, but it’s a little strangled as tears pour down your cheeks. Jr holds you for a little while, letting you cry, then pulls you gently off him, laughing, “You’re getting my shirt all wet…” You laugh too, “Sorry…” You sniff, “I’m so glad you’re ok…” Jr laughs, “Me too…” You wipe your eyes and laugh again, relief making you light hearted. Jr’s dad clears his throat. Jr looks at him, “Can she come in?” His dad glares, “You want me to let a STRANGER in MY house?” Jr glares, “Yes. She’s a friend of mine. I trust her.” His dad snaps, “You know what trust does? It gets you killed…” Jr snaps back, “Yeah? And what about YOUR friends? Do they just NOT COUNT?” The door opens and you jump, looking over at it. A woman walks out. She has black hair with purple streaks and a cold expression. You shrink a little. Somehow, she’s scarier than Jr’s dad. She glances at you, then Jr, “Jr, honey, what’s going on?” Honey doesn’t sound very friendly coming off her tongue… Jr shrinks a little, “I… Wanted to let my friend in…” She gives you a once over. Unspoken words sear your tongue. Maybe if you were braver you would say something. But you're not, so you stand muted, just staring at her. She turns back to Jr, “Why? You’ve seen her already. You’re not THAT close are you?” Jr studies the ground, “No… But I haven’t seen her in a long time. She probably has a lot of questions…” Oh yes you do… A LOT. Like how did his dad manage to get him out of there? And how does he stand his mom? Suddenly, him being such a jerk makes a little more sense… His mom laughs, “Questions about what? Son?” But son sounds like an insult, and now you’re getting angry. Jr looks up, glaring at his mom, “Like EVERYTHING. We haven’t seen each other in MONTHS! I haven’t seen YOU in months! Does the first interaction we have HAVE to be a fight?!” His mom softens, “You’re right. I’m sorry. Let her in.” His dad looks at her, “WHAT?” She glares, “I said 'let her in'.” His dad frowns a little, but shrugs, “Alright…” ‘Nice to know who’s in charge here…’ You think to yourself as you walk in.

The next few months pass in a blur. You and Jr’s brother go to the wall often, so he can see Jr. Unfortunately, you don’t HAVE any powers, so you can’t go over the wall. You wait for him outside, he tells you how he’s doing, and delivers messages back and forth. School seems almost pointless, but you do it anyway, not paying attention to anything you’re doing. You don’t even know if you’re passing any of your classes. You don’t really pay attention to much of anything except visiting and frequently questioning Jr’s brother on how things are going with his dad. Sometimes you think you’re annoying him with so many questions, but you can’t exactly do anything else, so you’re left to worry and ask questions… You’re about to go insane with not being able to do anything when you see a car driving slowly down the road. Cars are fairly rare, considering how expensive they are. Most people walk everywhere. Everyone moves out of the way and your heart stops when you glance through the window. Jr… He’s slumped in the passenger seat, head hanging, dirty hair laying limp and covering his face. He’s still in the same clothes he went in, but they’re ripped and filthy. He’s skinny, not healthy looking. You run after the car, following it all the way to his house. You feel tears of relief burning your eyes. He’s ok… Well… Not really, but he WILL be ok… You run up to it when it stops, not even flinching when his dad steps out of the car. You stop at the passenger door, but his dad pushes past you, “Who do you think you are?” You flush, “Oh… Sorry… I’m… A friend of his… I’ve been really worried about him…” His dad snarls, “Well he doesn’t feel well right now. Come back later.” You glare, “I want to make sure he’s ok.” “He’s fine.” “I don’t know that-” “Dad…” Jr’s voice cuts across the argument and you realise he’s opened the door. You and his dad look at him at the same time. He says, “She’s fine. She’s a friend…”, stepping out. He’s a lot stronger than he looks. He’s thin and dirty and his eyes are bloodshot, but he doesn’t seem to have any problem standing. He smiles at you, “I didn’t expect you to be so worried about a monster…”

He shakes his head, “I COULD bust him out and he could hide for the rest of his life… He told me no. I’m going to tell father. He’s… Powerful… He’ll work some of his political magic and Jr will walk free…” Oh… You forgot that his dad is the leader of the most powerful mafia in the city… “Can he do that?” “Yes.” Your first reaction is relief. Then annoyance. Why the Hell does he get to have a rich and powerful dad? What a prick! He’s really gonna go his entire life not having to worry about anything because if anyone does anything he doesn’t like his dad’ll just fucking KILL THEM ALL. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. ‘Calm down. Be happy for him. Be happy. It’s not his fault he was born into a powerful family, though he obviously takes advantage of it, but still. At least he’ll get out. Be happy for him…’ Out loud you say, “When will he get out?” Jr's brother shrugs, “It may take time…” “He may not HAVE time…” He glares, “Listen, I’m doing the best I can for him. This is what he wants. To be able to go back to the city and LIVE A LIFE. Would you like me to drag him out, kicking and screaming, and force him into hiding for the rest of his life?” You fluff, “No! I… I’m sorry. I’m just worried. I want him to be ok…” “I do too… I’ll keep visiting him. If things get bad, he can choose to leave at any time and I’ll get him out…” You nod, “Ok…” “Let’s get home… Before they notice us…” You nod and you both head home. You don’t know wether to be relieved… Or apprehensive. Are you really just going to let a monster back into the city? Especially with the government trying SO HARD to wipe it clean? But there’s no going back now. It’s not like you could stop it if you wanted to. Jr’s dad is way too powerful for you to do anything. Honestly, no matter how much you debate about it in your head, you know you want him back. No matter how much of a threat he might be, he’s still becoming your friend and you think he’s a good person. You would never leave him in there… You look at his brother, “Is Jr… Also a changeling?” He shakes his head, “No. He’s a werewolf. He’s a little different than most werewolves. The type he is can learn to not change on the full moon. They can control themselves. And when they DO turn, they can fight for control…” You look away, “But they have to fight for it…” “Yes. But Jr has been a werewolf for his whole life. He’s very adept at it. I don’t think he even has to concentrate to stay in control anymore…” You nod, “Does he infect others?” “No. Well. If he pierced the skin he would. Like most werewolves. But Jr doesn’t. Like I said. He’s in control…” You nod again and the rest of the walk is in silence…

You stare, speechless. He’s a CHANGELING? So many secrets everywhere. It makes you question everyone you see, everyone you know. He always seemed so… Normal… Anger suddenly ignites in you. ‘Does EVERYONE have powers except me?!' You feel so small and helpless. Why the Hell do THEY get powers? Why do YOU get stuck with this stupid, weak body. You don’t get ANY powers, you get sick, just like any other human, you even had ASTHMA as a child! You can’t even REGENERATE! You have to where a stupid CHARM to keep magical illnesses away because you're SO UNMAGICAL THAT YOUR BODY CAN’T HANDLE THEM! You really want to punch the wall. But because you AREN’T STRONG LIKE EVERY OTHER PERSON IN THE WORLD it would break your hand. And since you CAN’T HEAL QUICKLY LIKE EVERY OTHER PERSON IN THE WORLD it would last for forever. That just frustrates you more and you stomp around for a while, just letting yourself be angry. Why is life so unfair? Why do YOU have to be weak? Why do YOU have to be human? Why can’t YOU turn into a fucking BIRD and just FLY over the stupid wall? Jr’s brother suddenly lands in front of you, “Let’s go.” You blink, “What? Where’s Jr? Why are you back so soon? I thought we were getting him? What’s going on?”

You walk home from school. Your mind is dull, tired. It’s been two weeks. Nothing. No plan, no sudden epiphany, nothing. If only you were stronger. If only some sudden power would show up. And then what? You’d break him out? Run away? You’d be fugitives forever. Both your futures would be ruined. Somehow, you don’t think Jr would thank you… You suppose it doesn’t matter though, since you don’t have any powers to speak of. Jr’s brother comes up, startling you. He had missed a week of school, and then you had avoided him. You were too ashamed to face him. Too afraid. That makes you want to cry all over again. Why are you SO WEAK? You have no powers, no will, you’re even too much of a coward to face Jr’s brother… Frustration builds in you and you want to scream. If only you were a superhero. If only you were braver. If only you were smarter. But you're not. You're just a little girl, too weak and scared and stupid to do anything. “I want to go see him.” Jr’s brother’s words break you out of your thoughts, “What?” You stare in disbelief. “Jr. I want to go see him. I want you to come with me.” You laugh, but break it off quickly, “You CANNOT go out there. You’re a werewolf too. I’m not having you thrown in there-” “I’m not.” “What?" You blink, “What do you mean?” “I’m not a werewolf.” You roll your eyes, “Yes you are. Jr’s a werewolf. You’re his brother. It runs in the- Did he get bit?” He hesitates, then nods, “Yeah. Yeah he did. When he was young, still a kid. It almost killed him… I think dad was hoping he would die…” Your lips twist, “That’s awful…” He shrugged, “Is it? At least he wouldn’t be stuck down there if he had…” You frown, “Do you wish he had died?” His eyes widen, “No! No, of course not. I’m just… I don’t know. Let’s go.” You shake your head, “We can’t get in. They watch the inner walls VERY strictly. The furthest we can go is on the wall…” “Then I want on the wall…” You shake your head, “We can’t…” His glare is so intense it scares you, “YOU were with him! YOU were there! YOU did nothing! You OWE ME!” You flinch, heart sinking because... You do. You do owe him. It is your fault… You sigh, “Ok… But I can only take you TO the wall. We were on the wall and… Fell…” His eyes widen. You continue “So they’ll be watching that part carefully. I don’t know where the blind spots are and I can’t climb that wall…” He nods, “I only need as far as the wall…” You frown, “You really don’t know where it is? Everyone knows where it is…” He blushes, “I’ve… Never left the city… And I’ve never been curious about it…” You shake your head. You would think, with his brother being so into all that, he would at least know where the GIANT CITY FULL OF HOWLING WOLVES IS… Oh well. You take him, just like you said you would. The walk is long and awkward. You don’t know what to say, and he’s quiet anyway. You open your mouth many times to start a conversation. But how can you? After getting his brother put in Hell, you really have no right to speak to him at all. So you walk in silence. When you finally get there, you zigzag through there blind spots, just like Jr. had showed you. His brother follows. He seems to be fairly adept at sneaking… This worries you a little. What does he do to be that good at being sneaky? You reach the wall and look at him. Then your jaw drops. Feathers are springing up on his face and neck. “Wait for me…” And then he’s a blue jay, flying up the wall.

You have to go to school with Jr's brother the very next day. It's too soon. You're not ready yet... He’s worried. Of course he is… “Do you know where Jr is?” You want to tell him, you do, but you can’t speak. You just stare at him, mouth glued shut. His eyes widen, face filling with dread, “What happened? Where is he? Is he hurt? Talk to me!” You’ve never seen him raise his voice like this. He’s always been quiet, reserved, and shy. Tears stream down your cheeks, unwanted. His face drains of color, “What happened?” You finally find your voice, and whisper, “Did you- Did you know… Jr’s a werewolf? Of course you did… You’re his brother…” He lets out an audible gasp, then grabs you, “Where is he?! Please don’t tell me he got-” He can’t finish the sentence. You lower your head. It’s your fault he got caught. If you had just refused to go. If you hadn’t felt the need to confront him in the first place… His brother turns, grabbing his hair, “FUCK!” You cover your face, shame filling you. You should have done more. You were so afraid. You just sat, frozen. You didn’t even fight for him… ‘What would be the point?’, a voice whispers in your ear, ‘you’re weak. You have no power. You would have lost, been thrown in jail, and Jr would still be taken. Then you wouldn’t be able to come and warn his brother…’ You look at his brother, pacing, pulling on his own hair, tears welled in his eyes. ‘Why am I warning him? If he’s a werewolf too, then he’s a monster… His disease almost wiped out… Well… The world… They need to be contained…’ But watching him pace, looking so distressed, seeing how worried he is, thinking of everything you’ve done with them, the conversations, hanging out, you can’t believe that. Jr may have been a jerk, and maybe, POSSIBLY had it in him to be a monster. But his brother? He can’t even look a stranger in the eye. You saw him step on a caterpillar and get so sad at school. He's the softest, most innocent person you’ve ever met. He doesn’t have it in him to be a monster… ‘They can’t control themselves. When they turn, they don’t remember that…’ But Jr had seemed SO HUMAN… And some animals are gentle…. You look at the ground, unable to say any words of comfort. There are none. Jr is gone, and it’s your fault. You wipe away your tears furiously and walk to school. You’ll think of something to get him out…

You’re forced, struggling, to your knees. Jr is wrestled out of the net. He bolts for the door, but is grabbed instantly. The guards slam him to the ground and you scream. Two collars are brought out and you shiver. Although you know you aren’t a werewolf, the collar is still scary. You look over at Jr. He’s struggling to get back, away from the collar, but two guards hold him still. The man snaps the collar on you. The cold metal sits heavy on your neck, giving you chills. You watch the man, waiting for something, anything. Finally, he smiles, “See? That wasn’t so bad. You’re good to go.” He takes the collar off and your focus instantly goes to Jr. A guard is wrestling a collar on him. As soon as it snaps closed he wails and thrashes. You scream and fight towards him. He writhes, struggling to wrench it off, but it’s hard when his skin is rippling and twisting. You cover your mouth as he arches his back, blood flecking his mouth. You gasp, “You’re killing him! Stop!” Jr gives a last wail and rips violently into a wolf, shuddering and shaking. You freeze, staring. He’s beautiful. Big and almost golden. His fur is long and thick, rippling with every move he makes. His eyes are still the same though, blue and very, very human. He stares at you, crouched on the floor, shivering, and whimpers. You can only stare. It’s hard to decide whether to be terrified, like you’ve been taught to be all your life, or mesmerized. Because he is very VERY definitely in control. But that doesn’t make sense. Werewolves are monsters. They CAN’T be in control. They become violent, hungry animals when they turn… The guards step forward and Jr snarls, his appearance instantly changing. His fur bristles along his back, making him look much bigger, and his lips jerk back, revealing his teeth and gums, mouth hanging open threateningly. It’s a truly terrifying sight, and you just stare as they struggle to get close to him. He snarls and snaps, not hurting anyone, but scaring them enough to back off. Once it’s decided that it’s too dangerous to come close, they retreat, grabbing guns. You instantly fight, “Wait! Don’t kill him! DON’T KILL HIM!” They raise their weapons and you scream desperately, fighting with everything you have against the guards holding you, but they fire anyway. A dozen darts strike him and he jerks back, snarling and barking wildly. You don’t know whether to scream some more, because they’re HURTING HIM, or be relieved that those weren’t real bullets. Jr stumbles and falls, eyes rolling back. You shiver, whimpering. A man looks at you, “What is she still doing here?” The guards blink, surprised, and he snaps, “Get her out! She’s been traumatized enough!” The guards scramble and grab you. You struggle a little, “Jr….” “That’s not your friend ma’am… That’s a monster…” Tears spill down your cheeks. He’s not a monster. He’s a person… You two weren’t really close, but you were JUST starting to become friends… You don’t want to leave him… But you’re not strong. You’re not fast. You have no special power. Nothing you can pull out of thin air to solve the problem. You’re dragged out of the tower, down to a car. They put you in the back and you curl up, “He’s not a monster! He’s my friend! He wouldn’t-” Your voice breaks. Would he? Honestly… You don’t know. Maybe not while human. But even as a wolf he seemed so…. Human…. But that could just be your judgement too… You don’t know what to think anymore… You rest your forehead on your knees. You need time to think. You need to tell his brother, warn him… ‘But if he’s a wolf… Doesn’t he need to be seperated? He’s dangerous….’ You hug your legs tighter. Why does life have to be so complicated?

You scream and he twists, as if he's trying to run, even though he’s in the air. A net shoots out, catching him perfectly. He wails as it captures him, yanking him back. He slams into the wall and thrashes, struggling desperately to release himself. The guards help you up and, as you watch Jr being dragged onto the wall, tears running down his cheeks, it clicks. ‘He’s a werewolf…’ Terror immediately grips you. They can’t find out. They can’t put him down there. He’s not a monster. He’s not going to hurt anyone. What if they find out who his family is? You pale, your mind immediately going to Jr’s little brother. He wouldn’t last a DAY in there… You whirl on the guards, “We’re so sorry! We just wanted to see the city!”, you break down crying, unable to hold yourself together, “Please don’t punish us! We’ll go back to the city! We won’t come back anymore! We promise! Please-” “Calm down ma’am.” You sniffle and the guard continues, “We’re just gonna take you in, get you tested, to make sure you’re not wolves. But you DID break a major law. This is going to hold a hefty fine.” Your eyes flick to Jr. He’s curled tightly in on himself, trembling violently. Why the Hell did he have to come up here when he KNEW he was in so much danger. What kind of idiot, BEING A WEREWOLF, would go to the one place he SHOULD BE AVOIDING. You start crying all over again, “Please, we’re not werewolves! We’re just dumb kids! We just wanna go ho-ome!” I’m sorry ma’am, if you’ll just come with us, we’ll test you real quick, then set you free…” When it becomes obvious that bawling isn’t getting you out of it, you start fighting desperately. You can’t let Jr be taken. Why had you been so stupid!? Why hadn’t you just MADE him stay in town. Why didn’t you just FOLLOW THE RULES? The guard slams you to the ground and you let out a cry. “Please stop fighting ma’am. This’ll only take a second. If you’re clean, you have nothing to fear…” And like that, you’re dragged inside the tower.

Happy Valentine's Day everyone! What are ya'll's special plans? Mine are work and schooling XD Hopefully I can get some writing done today too! Maybe I'll post something later ;)

I just finished my first novel! The feeling is indescribable. Do you have any advice on editing, big or small?

Dear fate-and-chance,

Congratulations on joining THE ENDTIMES CLUB. 

Editing is basically the place the novels become novels — it’s impossible to overstate how the rough draft is only 10% of the process. Here is a pie chart demonstrating the overall gist. It’s messed up because I aggressively and deliberately misunderstand math at all times and also because I traced a ramekin full of discarded date pits on my desk for the outside, but you get the idea.

What I’m trying to say is: be prepared to spend the same amount of time editing as writing. 

GET CRITIQUE PARTNERS

This is the first step to editing. You need outside eyes. You don’t know if you have written the story you intended to tell until readers tell you that you’ve succeeded. A story is not complete until it has an audience. 

You can find some here. 

BIG PICTURE EDITS

It’s important to do your edits in the right order: there’s no point focusing on word choice when you don’t know if you’re going to keep a scene or not. What you’re looking for in big picture edits are

• pacing (is it taking you forever to get to your inciting incident? Are you leaping into breathless action so fast that the reader doesn’t have time to get emotionally invested? Is the general shape correct — do your stakes both emotional and physical slowly ratchet up til the climax?)

• clarity (do we know what the point of the book is? Do we understand who the main character is? Do we understand the stakes of the magic or the mystery or love story, etc?)

• momentum (are your scenes stacked in the correct order, or do you move backwards in stakes or have two scenes that essentially do the same thing?)

• consistency of character (are your characters consistent and inevitable? can we predict their behavior enough to be shocked if they do something out of character for once?)

• correctness of cast (do you have two characters who do the same thing in the plot? do you need to delete or add POVs or characters to your cast?)

• simplicity of execution (does the reader understand where they are in the plot? can they guess they are halfway through when they are halfway through, etc.?)

Title a document “outtakes.doc” and throw stuff that’s not working into it. You can always come back to them if you need them, but it’s often easier to see what you’re doing with the chaff removed.

LINE EDITS

Line edits are when you stop having to move big chunks around and can start fixing things within your newly edited shape. That is when you can start looking at adjusting pacing, tone, and momentum on a line level. Example:

Original sentence: The box rolled out of the truck and hit the ground.

Speed things up: Wham. The box, dropped. Tssss. Glass, exploded.

Slow things down: She snatched at air, and felt the whisper of the box sliding against her fingertips. The sound of the bottles exploding on the pavement echoed down the alley.

Ground us: Everything changed the moment that box hit the asphalt.

Tell us about a character: Ten years before, she’d been watching a box fall from through her mother’s hands in just this way. MORE ANECDOTE HERE 

COPYEDITS

This is the part where you actually fix typos and continuity errors, and it’s the least important part of editing. This is where you can enlist a non-bookish friend to feel useful, because the less invested you are in the book, the easier they are to spot. 

IN CONCLUSION

You could write entire books about revision — someone probably has — but this might be a start.

Happy wording.

urs,

Stiefvater

I have to agree. I write and many of my works are BASED around the complexity of human nature and how indecisive "right" and "wrong" are. I come from a Christian family and had considered writing Christian books, but ran into the same block. With Christian books there was this expectation for it to be perfect and clean and pure. It's simply unrealistic. I don't believe in completely good characters or completely bad characters. All of my characters have some flaw or another. I don't believe in a perfect world and the most gripping and intriguing stories I've read have been about people with demons and internal struggles of their own. Personaly, I think the ideology of a perfect character is, well, childish. The world is so complex. You can't put people in categories of "good" and "bad". Maybe a few, but the majority is in the smudgy grey area in between. And those are the ones I'm most interested in. How they think, how they act, how would they react in this situation? You don't know because they're not automatically going to do what's "right" or what's "wrong". They have their own ideals, instincts, and impulses. That's what makes us human and that's beautiful and interesting and I'll never stop being amazed by how complex people are as a whole.

I’m really nervous to write about this but

When I was younger, I read a lot of Christian books. In high school, I wrote a paper on Christian literature, specifically, what it is about Christian literature that makes it often flatter and less compelling than other genres. I’m not saying it all sucks, but I am saying that somehow, I’ve noticed through my life that Christian books suck more than their secular counterparts on average. I found them to often be juvenile, one-dimensional and derivative, and I didn’t think it had to be that way. I didn’t think that being Christian made a book bad, but I observed that the genre was stuffed with a lot of bad books, and the bad books were far worse than bad books outside the category. 

I’m not intending to start a discussion about Christian literature; I’m not alone in feeling this way or noticing this phenomenon if you believe it’s a thing. Online, you can read a lot of articles discussing the same thing: that Christian lit tends to be lower quality. So I wanted to know why. 

To answer the question, I looked at interviews of Christian authors and submission guidelines for Christian publishers. I wished to understand the intent behind writings in the genre and what might lead to the difference in quality. And what I found was very illuminating. 

Essentially, many Christian authors and publishers feel that: 

1. their books have a responsibility to promote morality in their readers, and authors are somewhat responsible for the moral fiber of their readers  

2. there has to be a strong delineation between “moral” and “immoral” behavior in books 

3. many topics either can’t be addressed at all or must be very clearly pointed out as “bad” if they are 

4. certain topics and ideas ought to be brought up in a book and pointed out as good as part of the purpose or meaning of the book

The conclusion I came to was that these ideas were resulting in flat, one-dimensional characters and dull plots. The responsibility of promoting moral integrity, and having to make absolutely sure that nothing you write could condone or promote immoral behavior, was of paramount importance. 

And what that caused was preachiness, one-dimensionality, a lack of compelling moral conflict, flat characters, and intellectually numbing stories. 

Why am I talking about this? 

Because a lot of the ideas I’ve been seeing spread around in writeblr and in the online writing and reading communities as a whole are identical. 

A lot of the posts I see online now about writing are almost exact echoes of the ideas I wrote about in my paper. 

Nowadays, I see posts constantly urging people to think about why they want to write their stories, and whether they are good or helpful or edifying. I see authors being slammed for not condemning characters with disgusting beliefs hard enough. I see people being dragged for liking characters that are not morally and ideologically pure. I see posts telling people to approach any difficult topic with extreme caution and crisp, unmistakable condemnation. Media is widely vilified when its fandom becomes toxic or nasty, assumed to be at fault for the moral fiber of its fans.

I see authors and publishers advertising their books as “feminist”, as if that makes any sense at all (is the author feminist? Does it just handle female characters well? Are the characters feminist? Is it focused on women’s issues?). I open a book and see poorly-integrated lines of dialogue dropping ideas about prejudice or gender that seem like a Tumblr post or part from a nonfiction book on racism inserted directly into a character’s mouth. I don’t think feminism is bad. I think feminism is great. And I don’t think talking about prejudice or gender is bad. I think these things need to be talked about. I definitely don’t think these ideas can’t be expressed in fiction. On the contrary; I think fiction is one of the best ways of expressing important ideas. 

But, I see some kind of preoccupation with the ideas your writing promotes, prominently including the idea that you must promote and you must condemn certain ideas, and that everything you write makes a statement about morality, and you’re responsible for edifying your audience and making them better people. And it’s really, really familiar. 

The conclusion that my paper came to is that you can’t clean up the reality of humanity. You can’t make the messiness of existence crisp and clear so you can feed your readers the ideas you want them to absorb bite by bite. You can’t have light without darkness, and you can’t have either without shades of gray. 

In life, racist people will not always be obviously horrible. (Even though sometimes they are…) Sometimes they will be people who love their spouses and kids and are generally “nice” and adopt dogs and love kittens, and they will still be racist. Sometimes even “good” people will say or do racist things and have to realize their mistakes and then make mistakes again and have to realize THOSE mistakes. Sometimes getting out of ideas you grew up hearing is long and difficult and you have to catch your brain repeating them even years after you tried to change. Racism can be passive, subtle, it can exist in people who are “good” in some ways. Sometimes people make progress toward changing but still have problems. How do we show this in books? Is it an author’s responsibility to solve all this and sort out everything? 

Is it racist for a racist character who is seeking redemption  to not have entirely overcome their prejudices by the end of a book? Is it the author’s responsibility to make sure racist behavior in the book is clearly labeled? Is it a reflection of the author’s views if a character says something racist? 

Note that I’m asking these questions. I’m definitely open to and would like perspectives from other people on this, people of color foremost and especially. The idea I am exploring is, does giving an author the responsibility of making sure their book clearly and unequivocally promotes certain ideas and condemns others impair them? Could it make it more difficult to address the ideas they want to? 

When I analyzed Christian literature, the conclusion I had to reach was that it does. I found christian lit as a whole to be excessively black-and-white, simplistic, shy of tackling anything with complexity, and almost dishonest about human nature. Is there an analogy in this situation? 

In life, relationships aren’t always pure and unproblematic. People don’t fall neatly into “people who have never done anything to hurt their partner” and abusers. People can sometimes have problems in their relationships and have to change their behaviors to preserve their relationships. Relationships have difficulties and arguments. Sometimes a person needs to change or become better in order to have a healthy relationship. Sometimes a relationship can be unhealthy without being abusive, and sometimes relationships are abusive. Must the author draw lines about “toxicity” and “problematicness” in super clear neon spray paint so people know the difference? 

These arguments come up about all sorts of morality-related things in books. And on some level I agree, you shouldn’t promote racism, and you should be careful and sensitive about portraying some things, but I am also extremely apprehensive about certain aspects of this culture that has sprung up. 

It’s really almost totally identical to what I noticed about Christian literature, and imo there it has done a lot of damage. I don’t really believe that authors are totally past being responsible for damage their ideas do, quite the opposite. But there is this expectation of dictating what’s bad and what’s good on a very clear level. 

That was part of the problem i noticed in Christian literature, the teaching of ideas rather than forcing readers to consider them. 

I’m not trying to talk over anybody at all, esp with things about racism, I’m white after all. And I really urge and ask my white followers and people-who-see-this-post to listen to the opinions, ideas and feelings of people of color who reply on the topic of racism. What I really want is everybody to consider this: is it an author’s job to make sure all “bad” and “good” things in their book are clearly delineated? If not, what is the best practice for an author? If not, might this cause problems? The culture I am seeing in the writeblr community seems to hold that it is, and rejection of redemption for villains, morally ambiguous situations and characters, addressing of complicated topics, and portraying anything “bad” without making absolutely certain that it’s clearly wrong is growing. 

Personally, I have a bad feeling about it. 

Thoughts? 

A hand clamps around your wrist and a moment of relief washes over you as you jerk to a halt. That moment only lasts a second. There’s a lurch and you see the moment of panic on Jr’s face, then you’re both plummeting down the wall. Jr scrabbles desperately at the wall, nails breaking and hands and knees being ripped to shreds. But he finds purchase. You feel your arm jerked violently and wail at the sudden stop. Jr groans, clinging to a ridiculously small crevice in the wall. How did he even get his fingers IN that?! He grunts, “Get a hold of the wall idiot!” You gasp, realizing you’ve just been hanging there, staring at Jr’s hand. You scrabble for purchase, finding it eventually, and you both begin slowly, agonizingly, climbing back up. Jr is cursing violently under his breath, entire body trembling. He looks close to tears… You gasp, “It’s ok Jr… We’re alive.. We’ll get back up… It’s ok…” He doesn’t respond, seeming more and more upset the closer to the top you get. You’re almost climbing back over, reaching safe ground, when guards come running up. Jr lets go…

Jr glares, “Look down there! Tell me what you see! Where is ALL that food going then?!” “How do you know this? Who told you about this?” Jr swallows and looks away, then looks back, “I had a friend… He was a changeling. He got put in there, but he used to sneak letters out to me...” Your heart speeds up a little, “Used to?” He nods, looking bitter, “They found out. I had got to where I came up here often. I watched it happen…” Your heart jumps to your throat and you barely get out, “Watched what happen?” He points, “They dragged him to the edge of the city. Shot him in the head. They just left him there for the clean up crew to pick up…” You turn your head away. There's so much to process… You look back at him, “I don’t understand. Why would they be MEAN to them? I understand containing them, but it just doesn’t seem realistic that they’d just torture an entire species unnecessarily…” Jr shrugs in defeat, “It’s easier to control a broken people, rather than a thriving nation. If they were strong, they could break out. Better to beat them down and starve them and let them die…” Tears prick at your eyes and you turn away quickly, looking back out, “But there are children out there…” Jr snorts, “Baby monsters you mean? Well, I mean, I’m sure at least half are werewolves. The rest are changelings, mimics, anything that can transform into a wolf. Even if they’re in full control while changed. Even if the moon doesn’t affect them. If any wolf DNA is in you, you’re classified a monster.” You blink away your tears. You will NOT cry in front of Jr. Though this IS horrible. You wish there was some way you could help them. But you know storming around yelling at people isn’t going to change anything. You have no powers to speak of. You’re probably the closest to human that exists. You don’t even have super speed, one of the most basic powers out there, that almost everyone has.You wouldn’t stand a chance against anyone. You’d just end up in jail, stuck, or dead, and then REALLY not stand a chance… Helplessness wells up in you and you lean over the wall, trying to distract yourself. You look for anything interesting. Livestock, trees, anything that's not the people. You can feel Jr's intense stare burning into you. You refuse to look at him. Suddenly a strong gust of wind sweeps by and you scream as it knocks you off balance. You topple over the wall, limbs flailing. “NO!!!” Your desperate wail is snatched away by the wind…

Once you reach the edge he urges you close. You look over and gasp. There’s a huge trench right inside the wall, full of men, women, and children, presumably werewolves. The inside edges of the trench are lined with stairs and thin pathways, houses dug into the side of them. The adults are all at the bottom, digging.The dirt is loaded into carts that are taken in underground tunnels further into the city. The city itself is massive, past the trench are houses upon houses. They’re shabby and broken up, you can tell even from the height you’re at. People, the size of ants, bustle around. Most seem to be working. Some building houses, some draggin carts in and out of tunnels, Some collecting those dead or sick off the streets. Your lips twist at that sight. The middle of the city is full of farmland, better looking, though still small, houses dotted everywhere. They seem to have an abundance of food, they’re not lacking in work, why are they all dying? You decide it’s probably from overcrowding. Though the city is big, the infection is bigger. It has spread all across the world. It’s so thick, even in just the seven cities that send their wolves here, that there’s simply no room. Streets are small, houses crammed everywhere, new ones constantly being built, and children are continuously being born. With a city so big, it simply would be unrealistic to think no one would have kids and, unfortunately, some species of werewolves have litters. Children run everywhere, playing, working, and dying. Even with them being so small, you can see their bad condition. Their clothes are poor too. Almost all of the children are naked, and some of the adults. Those who do have clothes look as though they’ve been wearing the clothes they were brought in since they got there, have hand made clothes, or have rags that barely cover them. You squint and lean further out, struggling to see. Are they all… Starving? You jerk back and look at Jr. He’s watching you. You point out to the farms, “They have an abundance of food! Why are they so thin?” Jr sighs, “The food isn’t for them. They’re given rations according to where they work. All the food they grow is shipped out and sold. They’re given the leftover. The stuff no one wants.” Your lips twist, “I don’t believe you.”

You shiver, chest squeezing in fear, “Jr, we shouldn’t be here. What if we get caught?” Jr rolls his eyes, “I’ve come here often. Don’t worry. I know all the blind spots…” He takes you around the wall, cutting through hedges and zigzagging across the ground. You follow, nervously clutching his arm. You finally reach the wall and he crouches in front of you, “Get on. There’s only one path up, and I’m the only one who knows it…” You hesitate and he grabs you, pulling you forward. You stumble and grudgingly climb on his back. He stands and locks your ankles firmly in front of him, then says, “Lean your head over my shoulder. It’ll balance out your weight better and allow you to hang on without choking me…” You do so, resting your chin on his shoulder, arms locked firmly around his chest. He says, “Hold on tight,” and lets go. Now you’re the only thing keeping you on him. You gulp, looking up. That’s really high. If you lose grip and fall… Your legs tighten around him. You’re sure that he’ll be bruised but, honestly, you’d rather him be bruised than you be dead. He starts his way up the wall, using the tiniest crevices as hand and foot holds. He scales the wall quickly, as though you way nothing, and soon you’re halfway up, too afraid of losing grip to look down. This wall is RIDICULOUSLY tall… You suppose it’s good for preventing wolves from climbing out though… Jr finally reaches the top and gently pries you off him. Your arms and legs are sore from clinging to him so hard. He takes your hand, pulling you into a crouch, and bolts across the wall, to the inner edge. You have no choice but to follow.

Anti-rape wear. Its almost impervious to knife attacks and tearing/stretching.

The waist and thigh extremities of the garment are cut and tear resistant (the guy in the video cant cut them with industrial scissors) and they cannot be moved more than a few centimetres when locked into place, the forward area in front of the genitals is also reinforced.

Please, for the love of god, even if you cant donate, just spread this idea wherever you can, they need $50,000 to be able to manufacture it and they currently have just over $6,000 with 20 days left.

Go to igg.me/at/AR-Wear to donate and/or view their full info.

So I found a site that does a subscription box for your period- it sends you basics like hygiene products, pain medication as well as snacks and pampering stuff to make you feel good, 

but the best thing is they have a specialty boxes, like vegan or kosher only snacks but also 

they specifically offer boxes for menstruating guys and nb folks. 

which is pretty darn cool.

it’s called bonjourjolie and I think it’s 1000% awesome tbh