#The other wanted to see his most important person again and ease their loneliness. I couldn't care less about the children dying

[longagoitwastuesday]

One thing about me is that I will stand by basically every bad deed of my favourite characters fully aware of them being bad deeds. I just don't care

[pessimisticoptimistsblog]

A/N – There is Alastor slander in this. He’s an amazing character so far, and I know some people love him, but he’s literally evil. Also, I messed up the timeline again 🤦‍♀️ I completely forgot that there's 5 months between the first extermination and when Lucifer comes to the hotel. But I have a plan to kinda fix it.. Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Chapter 5

Radio Bitch

The next morning found Lucifer and Caelwen in the fallen angel’s workshop. He had decided last night, as they gathered every book and scroll that mentioned bindrunes, that they’d be more comfortable in there and could have lunch brought to them. So they wouldn’t have to stop working through the spell, of course! Definitely not because he wanted to invite her into one of his most personal spaces and show her the ducks he was so passionate about! Absolutely nothing like that. Nope.

Caelwen had been taken aback at the sheer number of rubber ducks that greeted her when Lucifer opened the door. She might not have been tall, but some of the piles had to have been almost twice her height! Unfortunately, Lucifer took her look of shock as a negative and let his anxiety override his mouth. He spent the next 10 minutes darting around the room, grabbing random ducks and shoving them into the Nephilim’s arms while explaining what each one did.

“-and this one has a knife inside, for self-defense. This one can be warm or cold to help if you’re sick! Oh and-“

Caelwen had sat the pile of ducks in her arms down before grabbing Lucifer by the shoulders. She leveled him with a gentle stare then pulled away once she was sure he wouldn’t dart off again. *They’re lovely, Lucifer. Truthfully, I’m amazed by how many there are and all that they can do. And one day maybe we can organize them properly and you can tell me about every last one. For now, though, how about we sit down and see if we can’t finish this spell?*

Her genuine smile and kind words eased Lucifer’s racing mind and brought him mostly back from his spiral into a mental breakdown. He loved this room but, apparently, his depression and loneliness were tied rather closely to it. Lucifer grabbed Caelwen’s hands from his shoulders and returned her smile, leading her to the couch near the workshop door. They sat down next to each other, thighs grazing just slightly, as Lucifer snapped his fingers and made their books appear. Caelwen picked up the notebook she had been writing in last night and flipped to her page where they were putting together runes to make their own bindrune that, with Lucifer’s magic, should cancel out the one Adam used.

The next few hours were spent with the two leaning on each other, Lucifer reading from books or scrolls while Caelwen jotted down anything important to what they needed. Soon the page she was working on was full of various runes and notes about how they worked or what they would mean when placed with another rune. The Nephilim tapped Lucifer’s knee and showed him what she had so far. *I think we might have everything here. It doesn’t seem like it needs to be intricate as long as the right intentions are behind it.*

The fallen angel took in the messy scribbles on the page, making out the different runes that were underlined and what they were for, before his attention drifted to green eyes staring at him. The woman looked so hopeful and eager, excitement pouring off of her as she grinned. For a moment, Lucifer took all of her in; from her bright eyes and messy hair slipping from the bun on top of her head, to the faint dimple on the left side of her face and the way her nose scrunched just slightly. Only a week with this woman and he was falling rapidly.

Caelwen had noticed Lucifer’s lack of response and his staring, taking a moment herself to admire the man in front of her and wonder how she had gotten so lucky to earn his attention. His hair was pushed back like normal with just a few pieces falling across his forehead, his smile was small but oh so welcoming, and his yellow and red eyes were soft and warm. They had both started leaning closer towards the other, like magnets pulling each other in.

Suddenly a song played from Lucifer’s pocket, startling the two and sending Lucifer to the floor in surprise.

He fumbled in his pockets for his phone, mentally cursing the offensive device for ruining whatever was about to happen. Once out of his pocket, Lucifer looked to see who dared call him before freezing when he saw the name – Charlie.

“Daughter? Daughter! Daughter calling?!” He panicked, jumping up and beginning to pace. “Oh! Um-uh ‘Hello Charlie’ ‘Hey Char-Char’ No! No, that’s not good. This has to be perfect.” Lucifer paused before finally clicking to answer the phone. “Hey Bitch!”

Caelwen rolled her eyes and chuckled silently. This all-powerful angel was so awkward it was adorable. The Nephilim sat through the phone call watching Lucifer as he paced around the workshop. His nervousness was cute but also concerning; was his relationship with Charlie always this strained? Poor things. Charlie had seemed like such a sweet girl, she hoped they’d be able to mend their bond, they both deserved to know how wonderful the other was.

~Ding~

A quiet chime pulled Caelwen from her thoughts and to her own phone to see a couple messages from Nia.

Nia: Hey boss, not a huge deal or like an issue, but could you maybe check in at that hotel place? Rocco says the radio demon there is making shit difficult. And apparently, one of the other demons is sort of psycho? Not sure about that part, but probably worth looking into?

Nia: If you’re busy, though, I can totally do it. Just not till tomorrow. Maybe. Depends on this bitch Velvette and how many more times she barges in here looking for you.

“I’ll be there in an hour!” Lucifer hung up the phone, excited and feeling lighter than air. His daughter invited him to see her project! Take that depression! He spun in a circle, excitement pumping through his veins before he spotted Caelwen still sitting on the couch looking at him and giggling silently.

*I take it that was a good phone call?*

“ Oh, uh.. yeah it was. Sorry for sort of-.. it was just, just Charlie and it was the first time she’s called me! Well since she asked me to meet with you. But this time, she invited me over! Although that does mean we’ll have to come back to the spell later… I hope that’s okay?” Lucifer was worried he might have upset Caelwen until he saw her smile at him brightly.

Caelwen waved off Lucifer’s apology before signing, *It’s no problem! I’ve waited this long, what’s one more day? Besides, I have something I need to do as well. Nia just messaged me and needs me to check in on the hounds I have at Charlie’s hotel, make sure everything is going as it should.*

The fallen angel’s shoulders slumped in relief, greatful he hadn’t upset his companion. “Thank you for understanding. I promise, as soon as I get back, we will set your soul free. And then- wait did you say you need to go to the hotel too? Did something happen?!”

Lucifer was bursting with panic again - was that why Charlie had called him? Why hadn’t she sounded more urgent?!

Caelwen jumped up from the couch and walked to Lucifer, cupping his face in her hands and making him look at her. *Everything is fine. I promise. It’s just one of the demons there is making things tricky for my employees. I’m just going to make sure he remembers his place, that’s all. I’m sure Charlie is fine. Please, breathe*

Cealwen began taking deep breaths, holding eye contact with Lucifer until he followed suit. As he calmed down, the fallen angel closed his eyes and relaxed into his companions hands still holding his face.

The woman smiled softly, pulling her hands away slowly. *I need to go now though. For one, it’s probably best demons don’t see us walking around together. And secondly, I have a feeling I’ll need a moment with Charlie before you pull her away. The issue seems to be with a demon staying in the hotel that I refuse to allow around my hounds.* Caelwen’s eyes narrowed when she mentioned the issue, a frown set in, and the woman’s aura darkened briefly before she shook it off noticing Lucifer’s concerned gaze.

“Should, uh should I be worried about this demon?” Lucifer asked with an eyebrow raised slightly.

*Of course not! I can handle myself and this demon just fine and one of the hounds I have stationed at the hotel will be there.* Caelwen’s grin turned sadistic, *I dare him to try one of his tricks. His sabbatical will be much more permanent this time if he does.*

Lucifer couldn’t decide if he was concerned, intrigued, or turned on by the Nephilim in front of him; one minute she was so sweet and kind, the next she looked ready to brutally murder anyone that got in her way.

The woman checked the time on her phone, *I should get going. I’ll still be there when you arrive, but I want to handle my mess ASAP.* She waved to Lucifer before leaving the workshop and allowing her shadows to surround and transport her to the Hazbin Hotel.

Outside the hotel, Madame C was greeted by Rocco who had just finished a lap of the perimeter. One of her more mild employees, Rocco stood almost 7 feet tall with an average build, but what he lacked in muscles he more than made up for in his agility.

“Hey boss lady, Nia said you’d be by. Glad you could make it so quickly, honestly. Listen, I know we’re supposed to just power through the annoying or rough clients, but the radio demon is… well he’s not-“ Rocco cut off, a shiver running down his and Madaem C’s spines. They both turned to see the radio demon himself walking up to them, his Cheshire grin firmly in place.

“Hellooo good friends! What a lovely day it is. And how wonderful to see you again Madame C, such a shame you left before we could chat the other day. Now, what exactly brings you to our lovely hotel, dear? Looking to join our cause, perhaps?” Alastor had stopped close to Madame C and proceeded to lean in towards her face as he spoke.

Rocco made to step forward before he felt and saw his boss’s aura rise and darken more than he thought possible. Everyone at the company knew she could be scary, it was how she had earned a place as an overlord while owning no souls, but this chilled his blood and made him take a step back. Rocco even noticed Alastor’s eye twitch slightly.

Madame C’s eyes had begun to glow an eerie neon green and she tilted her head to the side, a wide evil grin rivaling Alastor’s splitting the darkness shielding the rest of her face. Alastor’s radio cane crackled to life sounding like someone switching rapidly between stations.

Suddenly, snippets of recordings could be heard with certain words standing out clearly. “You.. need to…back-UP! My… hounds are…not… FOR.. you… Al..-store. Don’t make… me…put you… in… -your place. AGAIN” Rocco was frozen in shock, he didn’t know his boss could do that.

As the two demons stared each other down, footsteps could be heard coming towards the group. Rocco looked out of the corner of his eye, afraid to fully look away from his boss should she need him, to see Princess Charlie grinning and waving at them.

“Ohmygod, hi! It’s so nice to see you again! Rocco said you might be stopping by soon. Is everything …okaayyy?” The princess trailed off, noticing the tension between Alastor and Madame C. “Uhh.. you two.. know each other, I’m guessing? Heheh…” Charlie trailed off, looking between the two demons and hell hound.

The two demons continued to hold each other’s stare until finally Alastor straightened and looked to Charlie, “Of course! Madame C and I have known each other for quite some time. We’re both very powerful Overlords as well and tend to run in similar circles due to that. She’s a lovely woman!”

Madame C schooled her features and tamed her aura, before turning to Charlie, even though only her eyes were fully visible she refused to let the radio bitch see the affect he had. Her soul hurt to put the strain on it she needed when using the amount of power she had. She grasped her hands together tightly to steady the slight shake and gave a small bow to the princess. She turned, looking to see if Rocco could translate for her, and when he nodded, her hands began to move.

“Yes. Alastor and I met when he was a young demon and tried to kill me.” Charlie and Rocco’s eyes widened, the hell hound stuttering a little, while Alastor’s twitched. “Obviously, I survived. But because of that day as well as his… later behavior, I’m afraid he is not included in the protection my hounds offer. I was called here because he has apparently been making Rocco and Echo’s jobs more difficult than need be.”

Madame C’s face stayed neutral the entire time her hell hound spoke for her, she refused to lie or let Alastor get away with anything he was attempting. She noticed Alastor’s hands clench at his cane.

“That’s… um.. I am so sorry to hear about that… I can’t kick Alastor out though, he’s our hotelier! It’s thanks to him that we’ve been able to make this place as nice as it is so quickly!” Receiving no response from the shadowed demon, Charlie clapped her hands together. “Weellll, how about we all head inside! My dad will be here any moment and when he leaves, you can come to my office and maybe we can see what we can work out? Please?”

Madame C couldn’t say no to the face Charlie gave her, the pleading eyes and hopeful smile reminded her so much of the fallen angel she had spent the last week with. She gave a sign signaling her agreement. Then signed to Rocco, *Take me somewhere secluded please, I wish to talk without the radio bitch hanging over my shoulder.*

The hell hound gave his boss a smirk before turning to Charlie, “You mind if boss lady and I head up to the second floor? We’ll keep an eye on stuff, just need to give her my reports. Kinda private business shit, ya know?” Charlie gave the two a thumbs up before jogging back into the hotel. Rocco and Madame C turned to where Alastor had been only to see him dissolve into shadows.

*Fucking creep.*

“You said it boss! Haha! C’mon, I know where we can go and talk while keeping an eye on everything.”

Together, hell hound and shadow-cloaked woman headed into the hotel and up the stairs, moving around the balcony overlooking the hotel entryway until they reached a corner. Madame C looked over the railing to see the demons in the hotel moving about to prepare for Lucifer, hanging banners and straightening furniture. A small demon ran around stabbing bugs while giggling maniacally, a cat demon with wings she recognized as an ex-Overlord was stood behind a bar drinking straight from a bottle, a snake demon slithered towards a table with a tray of cookies, and lastly a spider demon she recognized as one Valentino had contracted her hounds to protect was adjusting it’s makeup in a small mirror.

Rocco stood off to Madame C’s side, arms crossed as he eyed the demons below him. “They’re a pretty decent bunch, not too much trouble. Spider is Angel Dust, I’ve worked with him before - keeps trying to make a pass at me. The little one is Nifty, apparently Alastor owns her soul, she cleans and kinda creeps me out. Snake guy is new, Sir Pentious I think, was a spy for Vox but got found out preeetty quickly. Heh poor guy. He was able to rip a bit of Alastor’s coat at one point though so props there. Girl attached to Charlie is her girlfriend, Vaggie. I like her, she kinda reminds me of Carina, very drill sergeant vibe. And then Husker, probably the easiest one to put up with, doesn’t do much except drink. And then there’s Alastor.”

Madame C nodded as each demon was named, taking in everything Rocco told her. They continued to observe as Madame C let her thoughts travel to how she could still pay Charlie the debt she owed for connecting her and Lucifer without keeping her hounds near that radio asshole.

Charlie opened the door to the hotel and Lucifer grabbed her in a big hug. “CHAAARLIE! Oh its so good to see you!”

“Hey da-“ Charlie choked out. “It’s good to see you too, dad.” The two pulled away and the blonde girl cleared her throat. “Welcome! To the Hazbin Hotel!” she exclaimed.

Lucifer leaned down to pet a small cat before two winged goat-like demons flew to him and he pet them as well. Lucifer proceeded to take in the hotel lobby, while it wasn’t in shambles, it was far from ideal. It definitely needed some work. “Oh! What in the unholy Hell is that?!” he exclaimed when he saw the bar.

When Madame C saw Alastor appear next to the king of hell and explain that he thought it added color, she rolled her eyes. And when the radio demon put his hand on Charlie’s shoulder a few moments later to say he was happy to fulfill her bizarre requests, the puzzle pieces snapped together in her mind. Alastor was up to something and he needed the support of Charlie. Knowing the radio demon, it’d be best to ensure someone made sure Charlie was never put in a position to need Alastor’s help.

Pulling away from the edge as Lucifer and Alastor began to argue more, Madame C motioned Rocco to follow her away from the crowd and into a nearby hallway. They both looked around to ensure no one was watching them. *I still have some personal business to finish that may take a few more days. If Charlie agrees, I will take your place here when I’m done. Then I can keep a close eye on that radio jerk and keep you all away from him.*

“I appreciate that boss lady. We don’t mind every one else here. Honestly, if it weren’t for Alastor, this would be the best gig I��d ever had – minus when I’m on rotation for the main office!” Rocco chuckled while shoving his hands in his pant’s pockets.

The two spent a few more minutes catching up on everything that had happened with the hotel before a loud bang rattled the hotel. Darting towards the entrance, they saw the hotel in chaos, the front wall was littered with holes, some of the carpet was on fire and most of the demons from the hotel were running for cover.

Madame C allowed her shadows to transport her and Rocco to the main floor, appearing close to Lucifer and Charlie. The demoness turned to her hell hound, *Make sure everyone is safe please. I’ll see what I can do to start patching the wall and holding the sharks off.* Rocco gave a quick nod before darting off to start rounding up the hotel's sinners.

“It doesn’t matter how well intentioned you are, they’re always going to disappoint you!” Lucifer was smug and as much as she agreed with him to an extent, Madame C was still annoyed he’d rather rub in how awful sinners were than help keep the loan sharks from destroying his daughter’s hotel; they’d definitely have to have a chat about that later.

Nifty was trying to clean up some of the debris that kept falling when Sir Pentious grabbed her as a piece of wall came crashing to the ground and Rocco quickly swept both of them up and away to safety.

Vaggie came out and had a spear ready to protect whomever she could, but Alastor pushed her aside, “No, my dear, leave it to me. It’s time I remind everyone why I’m here.”

“Finally! Took ya long enough.” Mimzy stated from the bar.

“A reminder to all not to mess with the Radio Demon.” The radio frequency hurt Madame C’s ears. Watching Alastor make his way outside to kill the loan sharks, she rolled her eyes at his theatrics. At least he was helping in a way. The woman began to create shadow curtains to cover the holes in the walls and smother the fire around her; it wasn’t a perfect solution, but it would help until they could be repaired.

“- How come he can have faith in me but my own father can’t?” Madame C tuned back in to the conversation near her between Charlie and Lucifer. So this was where they stood, Charlie believed sinners were worth saving and helping while Lucifer thought them to be violent psychopaths.

“Dad… just.. help me.” Charlie pleaded.

Madame C looked away from the two, Lucifer had told her a little about being kicked out of Heaven and how he never wanted to lose everything he held dear again. Hearing him sing about it to Charlie nearly brought tears to her eyes. She shook it off, going to stand near everyone else in the lobby as they watched the bonding moment between father and daughter. It was so heart-warming but also broke Madame C’s heart; there was no chance she’d ever have something like this, her mother was long gone and her father was an asshole that only cared about himself.

Soon, Lucifer had left, promising Charlie a meeting with Heaven and wishing her luck. As everyone started to scatter and clean up, Madame C approached Charlie and Vaggie with Rocco at her side. “I know a lot has happened that needs your attention, but could we proceed with our meeting? I have a personal matter to get back to that can’t wait much longer.” The hell hound translated for his boss.

“Oh! Yes, of course, follow us.” Charlie and Vaggie led the two up stairs with Alastor watching from below. Before following the girls around a corner, Madame C turned to look at him and made his radio crackle as a warning, he was not welcome anywhere near this meeting.

Sitting in the office Charlie had brought them to, Madame C and Rocco wasted no time and got right to the point. “I apologize for having to do this, but I must stand by my rules. Unfortunately, the radio demon is not one that is welcome to the services I provide. Not only has he tried to kill me, but he has caused harm and even killed two of my hounds before. I understand he has a place here, though, and would never ask you to do anything you don’t wish to.”

“So then what are we supposed to do? You owe Charlie the protection because she got you that meeting with her dad.” Vaggie was defensive - even though she wasn’t fond of Alastor either, she didn’t want her girlfriend to get screwed out of anything she deserved.

“Yes, I do owe her – quite a lot more than I may ever truly be able to repay – but I do have a solution. My personal matter should be resolved in a couple days, after which I will be available to personally guard this hotel.” Charlie was confused and began to speak before Madame C began signing again. “I know what I told you before. The matter I met with Lucifer about will soon be resolved and will ensure I no longer need constant guards. Should I feel as though I need one whilst here, though, I will cover their pay.”

Charlie was shocked and then giddy, remembering what Madame C had needed to talk to Lucifer about. “You mean my dad was able to help? That’s amaaazing! “ She clapped her hands, bouncing in her seat. Vaggie stood next to her confused, looking back and forth between Charlie and the demon in front of her.

“Yes, it is amazing. I’m forever grateful. But if those conditions are acceptable, then I really must leave.” Madame C stood from her chair, holding a hand out to Charlie the shake. After settling the agreement, the demon turned towards Rocco to give him a nod before she melted into her shadows and left.

A few moments later she appeared at Lucifer’s front door, unable to go further due to protections he had in place to keep out anyone that wasn’t invited in first. After an imp let her in, the shadows around the Nephilim dropped to reveal an exhausted Caelwen. Trying to shake the tiredness clawing at her eyelids, she made her way to Lucifer’s workshop.

Caelwen entered the room and saw Lucifer on the couch with his head in his hands. She walked over to the couch and plopped down before leaning against the fallen angel. She knew he was worried about his daughter, Heaven surely wouldn’t be kind to the daughter of a fallen angel.

Lucifer lifted his head slightly and turned it to look at Caelwen, “I can’t lose her. I already lost everything I had in Heaven, Lilith left me, I can’t lose Charlie before I even get to know who she is.” His distress was evident to the woman next to him as she grabbed his face to bring him from his slouched position.

*You won’t lose her. Charlie is strong and she has an amazing support system that will help her bounce back if need be. You just need to believe in her and support her in whatever way you can.*

“You’re right, I know that, I just need to accept she’s not a little girl that I can hide away.” Lucifer gave a sad chuckle. Before Caelwen could continue to reassure him, the fallen angel straightened himself up more and snapped his fingers to summon her notebook from that morning. “We have more pressing things to tend to than my worrying! Let’s get this show rolling, I’m ready to see if we got this right.”

Caelwen knew they’d talk more about his depression and anxiety later, she wouldn’t let him continue on this self-destructive path. For now, though, they could focus on finishing the bindrune and spell they had been working towards for a week now.

So for the next two hours, Caelwen and Lucifer sketched bindrunes, making combination after combination to see if any had even a slight effect on the Nephilim. Finally, Caelwen was in the midst of making what had to be the thousandth bindrune when she felt a light tug at her chest. She paused, erased a line and the feeling went away. Added the line back and there was that tug again. She added another rune they had on the list and the tug became a pull that made her drop the pencil and rub at her chest.

Lucifer looked over at the sound of the pencil dropping and noticed Caelwen rubbing at her chest with a pained expression. He grabbed the paper she had been looking at and examined it, looking between it and Caelwen a grin growing on his face. “You did it! We’ve got the last bit we need!”

*Yeah, hurts a bit more than I’d hoped honestly. So maybe we move this party along, please?” the grimace on her face was morphing into teeth grinding together as Lucifer held the paper closer to her.

He pulled back quickly to ease her pain. “Right. Right! Of course, sorry! Let’s get everything sorted; you grab a pillow for your head and I’ll get the book with the incantation. And I’ll leave this here so you can breathe a bit.” Lucifer began to rush around the room, locking the door and rummaging until he found the book they had marked with the spell needed.

When he came back towards the couch, he noticed Caelwen had cleared some space on the floor and laid a pillow down. The woman was sitting on the floor ready to lay down but hesitated. Over 500 years had led to this moment, and she was so nervous. What if it didn’t work? What if it did but it killed her in the process? What if she had misread all of the signs from Lucifer and he kicked her out after all of this was over?

As Lucifer kneeled next to Caelwen, she looked up to him, eyes wide and scared. *Before we do this, I need to tell you something. No matter what happens, I have thoroughly enjoyed this last week. You are an amazing, wonderful man and I can never begin to repay you.* Lucifer tried to speak, but the Nephilim in front of him put a finger to his mouth. *I hope I haven’t misread the signs from you, but if I have, I’m terribly sorry for this and will accept whatever consequences come from it.*

Lucifer was confused for a split second before he felt hands pull at the lapels of his coat and soft lips met his roughly. While he was still processing the moment, Caelwen pushed him away and looked to the side unable to face seeing rejection quite yet. When the pieces finally clicked, Lucifer blinked slowly staring at the woman in front of him that still kept him held at arms length. Carefully, he reached a hand up to cup her jaw and turn her face to him looking into her eyes softly.

Lucifer pulled Caelwen in close, lips almost touching, “You didn’t misread the signs, I promise.” Their lips met again, softer and slower this time but with no less emotion. Lucifer cupped Caelwen’s jaw gently, holding her to him while her hands renewed their grip on his suit.

They parted slightly, noses touching and staring into each other’s eyes. “You are one of the most amazing people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. I hope that when you are free of this seal, you’ll stay with me? No matter what happens, I don’t know that I want to spend even a day apart.” Lucifer’s voice was like honey, and Caelwen couldn’t agree fast enough, nodding her head quickly with a brilliant smile taking over her face.

The two kissed, quicker this time, now having a new motive to finish breaking the seal. The sooner they finished this, the sooner they could go back to kissing and exploring this new level of their relationship.

Caelwen laid back on the pillow and ensured Lucifer had access to the center of her chest where the original bindrune sat. The faintest white outline was showing, the seal already reacting to its counterpart being close by. Lucifer pricked one of his fingers before beginning to draw the symbol Caelwen had made on her chest. As he was drawing the last rune, the Nephilim below him was clenching her fists at her sides and gritting her teeth. He hated to see her in pain but knew they couldn’t stop now. Grabbing the book from his kneeling position, Lucifer flipped to the marked page and began reciting the words on the paper.

Just like when Adam and Lute had done this to her all those years ago, a burning sensation enveloped Caelwen, this time it started out centered on her heart before spreading outwards. She let out a silent scream, the fire squeezing at her heart was mind numbing, black spots beginning to creep in at the edges of her vision.

Lucifer’s heart was breaking watching Caelwen struggle, he tried stroking her hair away from her face and rubbing her shoulders to soothe her slightly but it wasn’t working and he couldn’t interfere while the new magic unwound the old.

Caelwen was doing her best to not attempt to claw out her chest, she couldn’t mess up the new bindrune burning its way into her skin. Fuck, she doesn’t remember it being this bad. Slowly, after 10 minutes of agony that had felt like hours, the burning cooled and Caelwen felt like she could finally breathe. Her body ached and her head was spinning. Turning to look at Lucifer, Caelwen managed a weak smile, reaching for him when the dark spots finally claimed her vision and she passed out.

Lucifer stared down at Caelwen, her hair had come loose and was spread around her head, her face relaxed and peaceful. When she still hadn’t opened her eyes after a minute, he began to panic. He leaned down to see if she was still breathing and, after feeling her soft breaths against his face, he pulled back and tried stroking her cheek, shaking her shoulders, pinching her arm, yet nothing worked. Caelwen wouldn’t wake up.

Lucifer gathered the woman in his arms, holding her close as he leaned against the front of the couch. He kept stroking her hair, willing her eyes to open for over an hour before finally falling asleep.

A/N – So, yeah. This feels longer than any chapter so far, but this is a pretty big episode, probably my second favorite of the whole season. Also, to solve the timeline issue, it’s just gonna be Heaven being jerks about meeting with Charlie. Totally NOT a coma… maybe. We’ll see.

I wrote this all in a day, btw so if there’s issues other than the timeline, I’m sorry. I just really wanted to get this out since I won’t be writing much, if at all, until Friday

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[sweetdreamsjeff]

Jeff Buckley: Grace under fire

Dave Simpson, The Guardian, 1 May 1998

Singer Jeff Buckley lived in the shadow of his father Tim's death. Dave Simpson remembers meeting the visionary of pain and loss, and hears the demo recordings of Buckley's planned second album

WHEN JEFF Buckley walked fully clothed and singing into a Memphis marina on the Mississippi river last year he closed one of the briefest, brightest chapters in rock. Bernard Butler, the former Suede guitarist, recently said: "If it wasn't for Jeff Buckley I wouldn't be doing any of this. Seeing him restored my faith in music." High praise, matched only by Led Zeppelin's high priest, Jimmy Page: "Jeff Buckley was one of the greatest losses of all."

Buckley left just one completed album, Grace, rightly hailed as a masterpiece. But the demos for what would have been his second, planned to be called My Sweetheart The Drunk, are released by Columbia this month.

Demos, because apparently Buckley was dissatisfied with the sessions (with former Television mainman Tom Verlaine) and planned to burn the recordings and start again, beginning with a rehearsal planned for the very night he died. Sketches contains some of the most stunning and intriguing rock performances ever committed to tape. It's impossible to decide which are the more affecting: the staggering soulful beauty of a song like 'Everybody Wants You', or the references to funerals, cemeteries and suicide that shadow the album; the fragile magnificence of 'Opened Once', or the album's pervasive sense of loneliness.

That Buckley could have even contemplated trashing this music is the mark either of an acute perfectionist or of an extremely disturbed mind. And is it just hindsight that gives lines like 'Witches Rave''s "I'll never make it out alive" such an eerie psychological pull?

Equally bizarrely, Buckley's mysterious demise aged 30 on May 29 1997 (he told a friend he was "going for a swim", although many have speculated it was suicide) appeared a curious twist of destiny. His natural father, sixties singer Tim Buckley, had died tragically (from a drug overdose on June 29 1975) at 28, and his son was forever stalked by the Buckley legend. "Eternal life is on my trail," Jeff once sang, knowing full well that he was carving his own myth.

I first met him in 1994, in the first flush of critical fanfare for Grace. I was sent along to get a handful of quotes for a music paper, and we ended up talking for over an hour. This was typical of Jeff. If he liked you, you were in. It didn't concern him that he had other, more important interviews scheduled and that his press officer was frantically trying to get his attention. Just as in his music, Jeff Buckley knew all the rules but routinely bent them to suit his own purposes. In conversation as on stage, he'd play up to the image he'd created — the moody, magnificent James Dean of rock — and shatter it in an instant. Expecting a tortured artist, I was surprised by his mischievous humour.

He was a bag of contradictions, someone who shaped his surroundings (as we talked, he selected Duke Ellington to play in his portable CD), whilst simultaneously claiming to be ill at ease, both with people and daily situations.

He could be remarkably, even suspiciously eloquent. He said of his voice: "I feel it and I wanna go there. Every feeling has an articulation. It's like when you get drunk or you try Ecstasy for the first time and all your secrets come tumbling out, and you say things you've never said before."

His music, he insisted, was equally natural. "Do you think about what you're doing when you're making love?" he asked, using a favourite metaphor. He was the sort of person who would flirt with a bathchair. His entire arsenal of vocal mannerisms seemed to be filched from Dean's simmering vocabulary. But it became obvious that Jeff Buckley was carrying around a set of troubles for which there were no easy answers.

Buckley's early life around California was fairly blissful, even though he was brought up by his Panamanian mother and two successive stepfathers. He picked up his grandmother's guitar aged six and learned about harmonies by singing along with his mom to the radio as it blared out tunes by Stevie Wonder and Sly Stone. His favourite record was Terry Jacks' premature-death anthem 'Seasons In The Sun'.

When Buckley was 12, his stepfather gave him a copy of Led Zeppelin's Physical Graffiti (later influences included Nina Simone, Sex Pistols and the Cocteau Twins), and Jeff began writing songs. His first, he remembered, was "something stupid about a break-up." In his teens at college in Los Angeles he penned 'Eternal Life', which included the lines: "Got my red glitter coffin, man, just need one more nail", about the rock-death myth.

Buckley moved to New York, building up a fearsome reputation as a live performer in and around East Village. By the time a reworked 'Eternal Life' and other equally harrowing but strangely beautiful songs such as 'Dream Brother' appeared in his set, many in the audiences (which often included the likes of Nick Cave) would scream in rapture. Others would find the outpourings of naked emotion so disquieting they'd leave the room.

"I'm used to being hated," he told me. "It's something I've had ever since I was a kid. It hurts, but there's nothing I can do. I'm not lying." Neither did he pull his punches. At almost the exact time as he secured a record deal, Jeff managed the potentially career-threatening feat of being seen to "diss" labelmate Bob Dylan.

"I was at A Hole In the Wall in New York, and I'd seen Dylan the night before," he revealed. "So I did an impression of him singing 'I Want You'. I did an impression of him singing 'Grace'. I talked about how he sailed through some songs and was really brilliant on others. People were shouting 'But he's still got it, right?' And I'm going: 'No. This is not Blonde On Blonde. This is him now. You guys are living in the past'."

In the audience were Bob Dylan's manager, his assistant manager, and his best friend. "Man, the next day I was in Tompkins Square Park, staring at the ground with the snow falling, wishing I was never born. My A&R man saying, 'Well, Bob feels dissed.' But I really didn't... I just... loved him so much I sent him up." Buckley wrote a personal apology — and then when Grace came out, critics hailed the "new Bob Dylan".

Around this time people began making the inevitable, if misleading musical comparisons between Jeff and Tim Buckley. Both were singer-songwriters with distinctive voices. Jeff never knew his father (he vaguely remembered their one meeting "on a beach somewhere"). He wouldn't accept that even his smouldering looks came from his father.

"I look like my mother," he insisted. "I have my own choices, and I have my own life. All I know is that the guy's dead. I had a very musical environment growing up, that didn't involve him. Maybe I was imbued with the same things, the same parts. But it ain't his voice, and it ain't my voice, and it wasn't his father's voice or his father's father before. It's just the voice that's passed down. My grandfather sang, apparently. And my grandfather on my mother's side sang! I come from a line of singers. But my choices are my choices."

Buckley's resentment was palpable. Was he angry because his father abandoned him? "It's private," he mumbled, "but I went through, and am still going through a period of trying to figure out... why? The main question you wanna answer is did he love you or not, and if so, why didn't he love you enough to..."

Stick around. He didn't need to finish the sentence. The force driving Jeff Buckley was that he never recovered from the rejection.

He clung on to other people. "All I want to do is love everyone," he sang. There was a scarcely publicised affair with Cocteau Twin Elizabeth Fraser (who once recorded his father's 'Song To The Siren'), even curious rumours concerning Marianne Faithfull. His idealism was mirrored by a profound hatred of everything he deemed false, from colonialism to MTV and supermodels. But his chief obsession was that he would somehow "fail the music".

But what if Jeff wasn't involved in music? His answer came in instalments. "I think... that I... would be... a corpse."

We met again, but the last time I saw him he seemed exhausted by the road, itching to get back into the studio. There were narcotic rumours, but his body was found clean. When the news of his death came through it seemed like a dark joke, the kind of macabre prank Buckley would have dreamt up. It wasn't.

During his life, people talked of "Tim Buckley's son", but from now on it could easily be "Jeff Buckley's father". Jeff would have laughed at that. But his powerful musical legacy will be his final vengeance.

[sueske]

I don't understand why some people say that Sasuke didn’t care for Naruto to the extent that Naruto cared for him. Yes the story is from Naruto’s POV and in Shippuden Sasuke’s thoughts about Naruto weren’t really explicitly showcased until the end of VOTE2 (though actions speak louder than words), but to think that Sasuke’s monologue at the end was out of the blue is baffling.

Naruto (the story) started when the boys were around twelve years old. But from the time of the massacre to the point where they were 12 years old so many years passed. If you look at if from Sasuke’s POV, he lost everything in the most cruel way possible. He was absolutely betrayed by the one person he looked up to the most and given an even crueler task of taking him down. He was the last Uchiha with the exception of Itachi, and ultimately because of the goal bestowed upon Sasuke by Itachi, Sasuke knew he’d be the last Uchiha too when the time came. A life destined for complete loneliness, a child starved of love. Can you imagine how lonely he must of felt? The despair? It’s impossible to do so really.

But he wasn’t the only one. 

Naruto, an orphan, shunned by the villagers, was also completely alone. His loneliness was a mirror of Sasuke’s own, which is why Sasuke was able to recognise Naruto’s pranks for what they were - an attempt to create bonds in hope of companionship and understanding. It was in hope to be loved, to experience love. It made Sasuke feel at ease to know there was someone out there who understood what loneliness was like, for years before the actual ‘story’ started. But due to Sasuke’s circumstances, due to his own experiences, he viewed that as a weakness since he knew the pain of what it was like to have precious bonds ripped away from him. He knew the pain of being plunged into absolute despair because of it. So he tried to avoid creating bonds with others as much as possible. But ultimately he couldn’t though, could he? Naruto - brash, lonely Naruto, who tried so desperately to make bonds, who tried to prove himself to whoever would listen wherever he went, just got under Sasuke’s skin - and stayed there.

Sasuke empathised with Naruto. He felt his pain. He understood his pain. Sasuke watched Naruto from afar when they were young, but by being on Team 7 together they trained together, protected each other, had fun together. They created precious memories. Naruto created one of his two most important bonds with Sasuke (the other being Iruka), but Sasuke reciprocated those feelings right back. Which is why Sasuke was willing to give up his dream, his goal, so that Naruto could live and achieve his dream. Sasuke knew the pain of having the people he loved die, and he didn’t want to see Naruto die. Couldn’t go through that again. You know there’s the common saying of ‘your life flashes before your eyes before you die’? Yet Sasuke was thinking of all the bright and happy memories he had created with Naruto. Sasuke wasn’t strong enough to protect any of the Uchiha the night of the massacre, but he was at least strong enough to protect Naruto. I like to think that while he ‘died’, though he experienced regret at not being able to kill Itachi, he was at least relieved he was able to protect someone precious to him.

Then the Chuunin exams happened. Sasuke saw how strong people were outside of Konoha. The curse mark happened. Itachi came back to the village, but yet once again Sasuke’s priority wasn’t to kill Itachi, but to protect Naruto. His desire to protect Naruto outweighed the immediate need to get vengeance for his clan. However, Itachi’s presence and what transpired between them opened the wound in Sasuke’s heart that had barely healed over. One that will never truly close. So Sasuke made the decision to leave Konoha. He knew he could become powerful outside of the village. But it was also imperative that he leave Konoha because of Naruto. Orochimaru said it himself: Naruto was changing Sasuke’s heart. It was causing him to not prioritise revenge and that simply would not do.

VOTE1 happens. We learn how much Sasuke means to Naruto - and while Sasuke says Naruto can’t truly understand him because of their differing circumstances, he still hurts. Enough so to develop the Sharingan. How many times have Sasuke’s tomoe awakenings been linked to Naruto? We all know why the Sharingan develops - due to emotional turmoil. The bond he has with Naruto, the feelings he has for Naruto, literally affect Sasuke’s brain. 

Itachi gave Sasuke explicit instructions. Get stronger. Live in despair. Kill his closest friend to unlock the Mangekyō Sharingan. Hadn’t Sasuke pretty much followed Itachi’s instructions to a T? Not when it comes to Naruto, though. Never when it comes to Naruto. Sasuke was willing to give up his dream to protect Naruto before, but when the perfect opportunity presented itself for Sasuke to kill him, he couldn’t bring himself to do so. He just couldn’t. He tries to rationalise it by saying he doesn’t want to follow in Itachi’s footsteps, yet isn’t that what he’d been doing the entire time? Like I said, Sasuke followed the path Itachi laid out for him. It may not have been exactly what Itachi intended, with Sasuke deserting Konoha and going to Orochimaru, but he was doing what needed to be done - to become stronger and ultimately avenge the Uchiha clan. 

Which is why it’s so funny that in Shippuden, during their first reunion, Sasuke says that he sparred Naruto’s life on a ‘whim’. That couldn’t be further from the truth. He tried to rationalise it to himself but it’s such a glaring lie that even Naruto calls him out on it, and asked him why he couldn’t kill him when he had the opportunity to. But by that point Sasuke was set on revenge so he left Naruto behind.

Sasuke kills Itachi. He learns the truth. He’s sent into further despair. His whole life was a lie why did this happen to him why HIM why Itachi why the Uchiha- and then he focuses his new object of revenge onto Konoha. Onto the elders. Onto Danzo. 

Yet when everyone gives up on him, when Sasuke sees the only path left for him to take is the one encased in complete darkness, Naruto tells him he understands him. That he’d bear the burden of his hatred and die with him. Yet, Sasuke can’t understand why Naruto is so fixated on him. What was wrong with him? Why would he go so far for him? (Which is funny because Sasuke was the one who went so far for Naruto in the Land of Waves in the first place). Perhaps Sasuke never allowed himself to think that Naruto felt as strongly for him as he felt for Naruto. “Because you’re my friend.” Sasuke’s shocked. Sasuke tells Naruto that he’ll come at him first before destroying Konoha. He gets Itachi’s eyes transplanted in to him. The war happens. Sasuke also instinctively protects Naruto multiple times throughout the war, even before being bestowed the seal from the Sage of Six Paths. Sasuke can try and hide it all he wants, but he doesn’t want Naruto to die. Actions speak louder than words.

But Sasuke’s witnessed the atrocities of their world like no other. Sasuke is inherently a kind person. He would bear the weight of the world’s hatred on his shoulders to unite everyone by becoming Hokage. But Naruto won’t let him do that. How could he? Sasuke knows this. “As expected, I’ll have to deal with you first, Naruto.” Sasuke explicitly says it’s only Naruto he needs to kill to be truly alone in the world. Do you understand the importance of that statement? The only thing keeping Sasuke from the place that is eternal loneliness, like when he first experienced the night of the massacre, is Naruto. Do you understand the importance he places on the bond he has with Naruto? In this dark and cruel world, when Sasuke lost so much, sacrificed so much, even with all his family dead and all of his ‘friends’ against him, Naruto is still there keeping him from being truly alone.

During VOTE2 they fight with words and with their fists and Sasuke allows himself a moment of weakness. He calls Naruto his one and only... friend. But once again, Sasuke is unable to kill Naruto. He turns his Sharingan off at the last second. Then they blow each other’s arms off. And in the face of everything that happened to them, between them, they finally talk about their feelings.

Naruto calls him his friend. Yet, Sasuke knows friendship. He’s experienced friendship. But this is so unlike the friendship that he knows that he has to ask Naruto to define what friendship means to him. And Naruto - brash, lonely Naruto, who tried so desperately to make bonds, who made a bond with Sasuke, who vied so long and hard for Sasuke’s acknowledgement, who went so far to save Sasuke, simply hurt for him. Naruto didn’t want to see him in pain. Naruto loved him that much. Ah, Sasuke thought. I get it. What Naruto felt for Sasuke was exactly what Sasuke had felt for Naruto all along. When Sasuke said “I lost,” he wasn't referring to their physical battle. He ‘lost’ in the battle of denying how much their bond meant to him. He ‘lost’ in denying Naruto’s love for him - the love between them both. 

Sasuke’s always cared for Naruto as much as Naruto’s cared for him. It’s just that he couldn’t show it at times. Wouldn’t allow himself too, couldn’t allow himself to. But their feelings were definitely reciprocated. At the end of the story Sasuke wonders if he can apply the love and understanding between them to the greater world around them. It’s not easy but Sasuke hopes. Sasuke found the faith to move forwards with the pain in his heart (because there’s no way for the pain to be erased, all he can do is move forwards with that pain) in the hope of a brighter tomorrow. 

They were children starved of love who found love in each other.

[wishesunderthestars]

Eunoia // Ch. 14

eunoia (noun): beautiful thinking, the possession of a well-balanced mind, which exhibits goodwill and kindness

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader

Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognition, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness ins’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

Word Count: 15k+

Warnings: Abuse and violence, past sexual abuse, derogetory language, sexual harassment

Masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13

It has been a long time, I know. Thanks for being patient with me. This was supposed to be the last chapter of Yoongi and Hoseok’s part but I just couldn’t fit everything that needed to happen inside or it would turn into a 30k chapter and be even more late, so I divided it into two.

The taglist is now closed.

Four days felt like a much smaller amount of time than when you had first been informed of your break.  When you heard the alarm the morning you had to go back to work, you were tempted to ignore it and cover your head with the sheets. This was strange for two reasons. You always woke up before your alarm and it was impossible for you to fall asleep again after waking up, even when you were exhausted. But your eyes were heavy and sleep was clinging to your bones.

You reached for your phone and turned off the alarm. The hybrids were waiting for you in the kitchen, breakfast already served. You thanked Seokjin, who looked the most awake. Jimin and Jungkook were leaning against each other with their eyes half closed, small yawns escaping them every few minutes. It was a little earlier than the time you usually left but you had to do some work in the company building before you could go to the studios. Hoseok's injuries were much better, you didn't need to check on them twice a day anymore so you avoided going to their room and waking them up.

The fox hybrid had been opening up more and he looked more at ease with his surroundings. After eating dinner with you on the first night of your break, he had timidly asked if they could join you again. His whole face lit up when you told him they would always be welcome. Dinners had turned into lunches too, claiming that way you didn't have to carry the trays to their room every day.

You weren't surprised at how well he got along with Jimin. His heart-shaped smile had even charmed Namjoon. He was fascinated with every little thing and you made use of your break to show him around the house. It could be a little overwhelming, so you stuck to the basics at first. The kitchen, the upstairs living room, the library (where at least one of you could be found most times) and the cinema room. He looked at everything in wonder, his red tail wagging behind him. Yoongi trailed after you, the bored expression on his face slipping at how happy and excited Hoseok was.

The second day of your break Jimin announced that you would all be watching a movie. He would accept no complaints, not that there were any. You made enough popcorn for a whole movie theater while Seokjin and Jungkook made pizza. You strictly forbade them from putting on one of your movies. You were so deeply involved and connected with them you had trouble watching them without overthinking every scene, line and camera angle. Jimin pouted, joined by Jungkook and a more subtle Hoseok. But you didn’t budge. Jimin huffed and selected a comedy with an actor Seokjin liked.

It was the third day of your break and Jimin had dragged you with him to the guest suite, saying he needed his daily cuddles. You were laying together in his bed as you played with his blond strands. His hair was growing longer and he was complaining that it was falling in his eyes but you loved running your hands through it, your fingers getting lost inside. Jimin snuggled into your side, his tail wrapped around your waist.

“You are very affectionate today,” you said. Jimin let out an unsatisfied noise when you stopped massaging his scalp, so you moved your hand upwards, scratching behind his cat ears, eliciting a small moan from him.

“I am always affectionate,” he said, nuzzling against your collarbones. “You’re just not here and you’re tired when you come back.”

You placed a kiss on the crown of his head. “Sorry.” It was your job. You shouldn’t feel guilty. And yet…

Jimin raised his head, your hand falling from his hair to rest on his cheek. “Don’t be. I just wish you were here more. With us. But your job is important.”

“I guess,” you said caressing his cheek, the cat hybrid leaning into your touch. “I’ll try to get some more time off when I go back to work.” It would be difficult but not impossible. There were often breaks for a couple of days in the filming schedule but you usually spent those revising scripts or reviewing the work of the various departments or attending meetings. Many of those things weren’t actually your responsibilities, they weren’t in your contract, you did them because you wanted everything to be perfect. You could take a step back for once and make up for it later.

Jimin leaned against you, purring happily at the prospect of spending more time with you. He had been clinging to you in the past days after your week-long absence. The first night after making up with Jungkook he had slept with him in their room and you’d thought he would sleep there from now on. But the next night you had come out of the shower to find him laying in your bed.

A talk show was playing on the TV, filling the comfortable silence of the room. Jimin whispering your name had you looking away from the screen. “Hoseok is doing better, right?”

“He is. He’s recovering fast. Why are you asking?” you asked, worried that he had noticed something you hadn’t. Hybrids had much more developed senses than humans that could have detected something you had missed.

“He’s nice,” he said, playing with the fake buttons of your shirt. “He looks so happy all the time and he’s so energetic.”

“He is. See? He’s really getting better.” That didn’t seem to satisfy Jimin.

“What if they want to leave now that he’s better?”

You cooed at him, pulling him closer. “Is that what’s brought this on? If they want to leave we can’t stop them. The door is always open if they don’t want to be here anymore. They only came here because Hoseok was injured and he couldn’t go to the hospital.”

“But can they stay?” His eyes were shining as he looked up at you. “Please.”

“They can stay for as long as they want. But I can’t force them to stay.”

Jimin didn’t say anything more, hiding into your side. Last night at dinner, Jimin had been quiet and withdrawn, glancing at Yoongi every few minutes. There was history between them, one that ran deep and cut just as hard. From little clues and pieces and what Jimin himself had told you, you had pieced together an image of Jimin’s past but you had trouble finding where exactly Yoongi fit.

You hadn’t forgotten Jimin’s words in your office the day you had invited the two hybrids in your house. Yoongi once belonged to the same man Jimin did. They had done something to him and Jimin had been left to the adoption center he had escaped from. Yoongi had been left somewhere else, you guessed a less savory place. But you couldn’t figure out what they could have done to be kicked out. Something Jimin still felt guilty about. Betrayal was a strong and sticky word and it was hard to associate it with sweet Jimin, even when that man deserved that and more.

Yoongi was a mystery surrounded by several brick walls. Only a wrecking ball could break them down. You were the kind of person to knock on a wall and wait for it to crumble by itself when it came to people. At work, if the only way to get through an obstacle was a wrecking ball, you would bring a wrecking ball.

Surprises weren’t uncommon for you (see: Virginia earthquake), you had learnt to face them head on and control the consequences. But that hadn’t prepared you for the string of surprises during your break and the days after that.

The first surprise came with how well Hoseok was getting along with the other hybrids. His endearing excitement about anything and everything didn’t fail to amuse them. He would curl up on the grass, bathing in sunlight, often joined by Jimin who had developed the same habit when spring first arrived. He was curious about everything, asking question after question with his red fluffy tail wagging behind him like an overexcited puppy. All of you couldn’t help but humor him and try to answer his questions to the best of your abilities.

The second surprise shocked you more than the first. It was the third night the two hybrids were eating dinner with you in the backyard. Yoongi usually didn’t talk, opting to focus on his food while observing the progression of the meal. Thus when he spoke, everyone fell silent. He didn’t say much, it only took him a couple of seconds to compliment Jin’s cooking then become quiet again. Jin stuttered through his thanks, flustered at the unexpected compliment. The panther hybrid didn’t talk again for the rest of the meal.

The third surprise was seeing Yoongi and Jimin sitting next to each other, sometimes in silence and sometimes talking. Being pulled to each other like a moth to the flame. It made Hoseok all too happy to spend time with both of them.

The fourth surprise came in the form of a text from a contact you hadn’t interacted with since Christmas. You laid back on your bed, staring at the paragraphs-long text and forgetting about anything else. You stared and stared as if the letters would rearrange themselves, or better yet disappear if you stared long enough.

You didn’t notice how much time you had spent there unmoving until there was a knock on the door.

“Open,” you called.

The door was pushed open and Namjoon walked into the room, his gray hair falling in his face. In the mornings he looked younger. “Breakfast is ready.”

“Yeah,” you said, not moving. They never had to call you for breakfast. Your schedules had become so in sync you arrived for breakfast the moment it was ready or a few minutes early.

“What happened?” Namjoon asked. He approached, sitting down next to you on the bed.

“Nothing happened, I guess. It’s an invitation.” The text had been sent late last night but you had missed it, leaving your phone to charge upon coming back home and not looking at it again. “It’s from my parents. For a gala.”

“Your parents?” The surprise was evident in his face. You didn’t talk much about your parents, those were conversations you didn’t tend to enjoy. Your parents were a topic you weren’t well-versed in and your lack of confidence was irritating.

You looked at the text again, black letters surrounded by gray. “They invited me to a fashion gala. They would really appreciate it if I could attend.” Reading the text again, you wondered if your mother had asked someone else to write it before deeming it persuasive enough to send. “It’s held in Beverly Hills.”

“When?” Namjoon asked.

“Saturday. In less than a week.” It was Tuesday.

Namjoon glanced at your phone. “Do you want to go?”

The answer was more complicated than you would have liked. You didn’t feel like buying a new gown (god forbid if you wore a dress you had worn before at such an event), having your makeup and hair done and plastering a smile on your face while exchanging pleasantries with people you didn’t know for the whole night. But it wasn’t that easy. You hadn’t attended the Christmas event your mother had organized, using work as an excuse, not feeling like showing up at an event in the mindset you had fallen into. Although she didn’t show it, your mother had been offended.

You couldn’t skip another event.

You threw an arm over your eyes, groaning. “I can’t not go. My mother organized the gala, it will look bad if I’m not there.”

“I could come with you,” Namjoon offered.

It would be nice having someone there with you. Namjoon had a way of calming you down and settling your worries but actually remembering those galas made you change your mind. The rich and mighty loved showing off their wealth and power and hybrids were part of that allure. You wouldn’t subject Namjoon to that. You weren’t sure how he would react. You didn’t want to subject him to your parents’ scrutiny either.

“It would be better if I went alone,” you said. Namjoon threaded his fingers with yours in understanding. He pulled on your hand until you were sitting up on the bed, facing him.

“If you don’t want to go, you shouldn’t.”

Only that it wasn’t so simple. Or it was just your human nature making this overcomplicated.

“My mother will be really disappointed if I don’t go. I didn’t go to her last event, either. It will look bad if I don’t go to this one too.” Namjoon squeezed your hand, urging you to continue. “I’m just tired of them. Galas, events, they are all the same and not in a good way. Sure, there are some people worth talking too. I’ve had some great conversations there, but those are far and few in between. Most people are just trying to outshine the one next to them. And my mother only wants me there to complete the picture.”

The powerful and influential couple with their successful daughter. It was an image that haunted you. Most times you tried to ignore it because it wasn’t fair of you to judge your parents like that. They never made you attend those events, they didn’t get angry when you couldn’t make it. But it left a sour taste in your mouth when those events were the only times you saw them anymore.

“You don’t have to be alone there.” Namjoon brought your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss in the middle of your palm. “I’m always here if you change your mind. It would feel better if you weren’t alone.”

“It isn’t that I don’t want you there. I do,” you said. “But that isn’t a world you want to be a part of, it isn’t really my world either. There, hybrids are just expensive accessories and I don’t want people to look at you like that. Like you are something to be had.”

Namjoon’s eyes were soft on you as he cupped your cheek with the hand that wasn’t holding yours. “That’s how most people look at us. It isn’t something new. You don’t have to worry about me, I’m used to it.”

“But it isn’t right.” You sounded like a five-year-old complaining that the world wasn’t fair because her parents didn’t buy her ice cream but you couldn’t help it. “And it isn’t just the other people, the guests. I’m not sure about my parents either. They don’t know I’ve adopted you. Actually, they don’t know about anything that has happened in my life this year.”

“I understand if you don’t want them to know about us.”

“It isn’t that,” you said. “Not exactly. I don’t want them involved in my business and judging my choices. They- They are my parents and I guess they care about me in their own way but I won’t be able to stay calm if they look at you like they are estimating your price tag.”

Namjoon leaned closer, bringing your foreheads together. You closed your eyes, surrounded by his warmth. “All I care about is for you to feel comfortable and if my presence there will make things worse then I won’t come with you. But if you change your mind, I’ll be right here. Whatever you want, I’m here.”

You tilted your head, waiting for his lips to touch yours. You shared a sweet kiss before there was another knock at the door.

“Namjoon! Did you wake her up?” Seokjin shouted from the other side of the door. “The breakfast is getting cold! I woke up at the crack of dawn to make it!”

You giggled as you separated.

“Let’s go before he decides we don’t deserve food,” Namjoon said.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

 You had to readjust your schedule for the gala. There were many things you had to do in the five days leading up to it. Your mother was so pleased you accepted the invitation she called you the very next day to tell you how happy she was you would be attending. She hadn’t organized a fashion gala in years and it meant a lot that you would be there to support her. The gala was all about the importance of fashion and the unique interpretations of old and new big names in the industry. It would be one of the grandest events of the year, even if your mother was as clueless about fashion as she was about your life. She enjoyed watching the glorious parts and giving compliments, but rarely got more involved than that.

She had arranged for you to meet with one of the designers featured at the event. You could choose a dress from his collection that would be showcased at the gala. Your mother reassured you that they would do everything so your dress would be fitted to your exact measurements and ready for you to wear on time. You didn’t complain. It would be otherwise impossible to find a dress of the caliber your mother expected in such a short time.

The designer came to your house himself with his assistants. He was a nice young man with a tilted accent revealing that he wasn’t originally from the United States. You made small talk about the different kinds of art characterizing your jobs. They took your measurements and presented you with a few options the designer had selected for you. Some were more eccentric than others but all of them were beautiful.

After discussing with him and listening to his opinions, you selected a piece with gold and red embroidery and a flowy skirt. He was very pleased with your choice, going on and on about how good it would look on you. You felt fluttered at how excited he was for you to wear his design.

You had to meet him again a few days later for the first fitting. He offered to come to your house again but it would be easier for the alterations to be at his studio, where all of his tools were.

Jimin had seen the opportunity to spend more time with you and put on his most convincing puppy eyes asking you to take him with you to the fashion studio. You had no reason to refuse, you wanted to spend more time with him too. Somehow Jimin roped Seokjin into coming with you as well. They waited for you outside until the alterations were done. You couldn’t resist spoiling them while you were out so you took them for waffles. From Seokjin’s stuffed face it was safe to say he enjoyed them.

You had to go back to work after the fitting but Jimin was clinging to you not letting you go, which was how you ended up with the two of them at the final table-reading for the first episode of the Raven Cycle. They both quietly watched the actors delivering their lines. Jimin leaned forward in his seat as he got more and more invested in the scenes, snapping out of it whenever one scene ended and you discussed corrections and suggestions.

The atmosphere was light and friendly. You were professionals and you believed in maintaining a healthy environment of communication and mutual respect that left space for jokes and friendships to develop. The chemistry between the actors was important and you found that when they were friends and had a bond in real life too, it showed.

“Okay, that was great. I liked Ronan’s extra lines, we should keep that in.” The writer next to you wrote it down. “It’s getting late so let’s take a small break for a few minutes and move on to scene fifteen and sixteen and we’re completely done with episode one.” Everyone agreed with you and soon chatter was filling the room. You stretched your arms behind you, your body was complaining after sitting for too many hours.

The snacks and refreshments on the table against the wall were dwindling as the table-reading went on. All the important people in the project were there; the executive producers, the writers, the heads of the various departments and of course all the main actors of the first episode. The room with the large table and the many couches and chairs was large enough for everyone.

Three more days of table reading, which was mainly for revisions, and you would be done, leaving around a week before filming was scheduled to start. Just on time. Despite unfortunate surprises and earthquakes, you were on time. Next week you would be back in the studios standing behind the cameras watching years of work and planning coming to life. The first moments of filming in every movie or TV show whispered to you in silver and gold lines that you couldn’t describe as anything else than magic.

You picked up a bottle of water and a sandwich from the snack table, getting caught up in a short conversation with one of the producers. Your scalp was beginning to hurt from the tight ponytail your hair was trapped in. With a pat on your shoulder, the producer left to find the head of the costume department.

Jimin and Jin were sitting on the smallest couch, away from the table in the middle of the room. Jimin’s ears twitched as you settled on the armrest. You handed him the sandwich.

“For me?”

“You have been looking at it as much as you have been looking at the actors.”

Jimin still didn’t take a bite. “I already ate two.”

“And now you will eat one more.” You nudged the sandwich closer to his face. “They are quite small. I think Will has eaten seven since we started.” You glanced at your assistant, he was talking with two of the actors.

Jimin smiled at you like you were sharing a secret before diving into his sandwich. You opened your water bottle and gulped down half of it in seconds.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go? It’s past eight and it will take at least one more hour to finish the last two scenes and wrap everything up.” You had asked them if they wanted to leave three times since you’d arrived and the answer had been the same each time.

“It’s eight?” Jin asked, pulling out his phone from his pocket. You leaned over Jimin to peek at the screen seeing a few texts from Namjoon and Jungkook and notifications from the various apps Jin used. You had texted Namjoon earlier so he wouldn’t worry that Jin and Jimin hadn’t returned home.

“And it will be at least nine by the time I’m done,” you said.

“We’ve been here for three hours. We can wait for you one more.” Jin opened the messages app reading the texts, a smile appearing on his face.

Jimin had eaten more than half of the sandwich, crumbs sticking at the sides of his mouth. “I want to see what happens at the end. Pretty please?”

“We will wait for you,” Jin said. “We don’t have anything better to do,” he added, to which Jimin agreed enthusiastically. You scratched the cat hybrid's ears while he devoured the rest of the sandwich.

What you hadn’t considered before taking them with you was that the table reading would give away many spoilers for the show. Spoilers were the bane of your existence. Not everyone minded them but you disliked them with passion. You had almost strangled Zayn when he had told you a spoiler he had seen on Twitter for the ending of Avengers: Infinity War,  minutes before the movie started. Zayn had been very lucky the lights hadn’t gone out yet. The suspense was one of your favorite parts and that was ruined for you when you knew what would happen.

At least it was the first episode but there was a lot of discussion on how certain parts or pieces of dialogue would connect with later episodes. The fact that it was an adaptation also changed things. You had been adamant about staying true to the original story and keeping in as many scenes from the book as you could. Your additions revolved around character development, the relationships between the characters, and some conflicts that hadn’t been in the book but you had discussed in length with Maggie. In this case, you didn’t know exactly how to define spoilers.

As expected, you finished the table reading twenty minutes past nine. Gathering all your folders from the table, the scripts, and various notes from the writers and producers, you hid them all away in your backpack. Henrietta and the magical forest were coming to life from their voices alone. You could already imagine how captivating it would be on screen.

Jimin was laying his head on Jin’s shoulder with his arm wrapped around the older’s waist. It had taken some time for them to relax in the room full of strangers, some of who hadn’t been subtle about staring. One look from you and their gazes had darted away. It still wasn’t common to have a hybrid, much less three, but you didn’t care how curious they were if they were making Jimin and Jin uncomfortable.

During the first break, early at the table reading, you had been roped into a debate about a possible change in one of the scenes. The two hybrids had kept to themselves, staying quiet and watching. The actress playing Blue had walked up to them with a wide smile and introduced herself. The remaining tension in them was released when she struck up a conversation with them.

“Time to get going,” you said. Jimin looked up at you, blinking drowsily. “Should I tell John to carry you to the car?”

“We’re leaving?” he asked, rubbing at his eyes.

“Thankfully yes so you need to get up.” You had wrapped everything up, saying goodbye to everyone and you were ready to go.

Jin kissed Jimin’s blond curls. “Let’s go and get you into an actual bed.” He got up and pulled Jimin with him, the younger hybrid was clinging to his back like a koala from the hallway where you met up with John to the parking lot.

In the car, you looked at them through the rear-view mirror. Jimin’s eyes were closed, laying his head on Jin’s shoulder.

“Hard day?” John asked, moving the gear shift to the left and then up.

“I’m a little afraid that my scenario might be a little boring,” you said glancing behind you. “It’s too early for him to be falling asleep.”

The car started moving, leaving the dimly lit parking lot behind. “He’s not used to being out for that long,” Jin said smoothing down Jimin’s hair with care. Jin cared for you with everything he had, you tried to do the same but it was close to impossible with how busy you were.

“If it’s my scenario though, I need to rewrite that thing from beginning to end.”

John chuckled. “Good luck telling that to the writers and the producers. They’ll love it.”

They’d love it as much as cats loved swimming.

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 You took the day of the gala off. If you went to the gala tired after work, you wouldn’t be able to put a smile on your face and keep it there. It wasn’t so much that the galas were awful but that you felt out of place in them. Your mother had many connections and she would invite the “best” of her world. Some faces had become familiar, a steady fixture in your mother’s guest lists. Some faces you should be able to recognize but you didn’t, resulting in interactions based on pretending.

At the after-parties of award shows and premieres, you were more at ease. The designer dresses and suits were the same, worn by rich and influential people, but it was people you knew and respected. Your skin wasn’t prickling at the tension, lost somewhere between remembering a name or a company and ignoring the jabs at other guests or the rumors spreading like vines.

The last event you had attended was in New York last September, it had been the event of the year according to your mother. Jacob had accompanied you, hugging your mother and shaking hands with your father. He had stayed next to you from the moment you stepped into the place to the moment you got into the car to leave. You had to somewhat agree with your mother. A lot of interesting people were in attendance, famous writers and journalists, and you succeeded in ignoring the less favorable situations.

Your parents had changed a lot, or maybe it was just the circumstances that had changed and the different perspective you had as an adult. You used to cast them as the absentee parents, an overused trope you didn't find much merit in. It was too simple, too straightforward. They didn't disappear from one day to the next, cutting all contact with you. It was more like the times they were there grew fewer and fewer until they had moved permanently to New York by the time you were eight. Your father had been offered a position he couldn't refuse and your mother loved him too much to leave him alone there. She tried, she tried to stay for you but she had been trying to find a reason to leave your hometown since she was a teenager. The penthouses and neat offices fit her far better than the beaches and town squares ever did.

It started as a few weeks at first. Your father would be staying in the city for some meetings and your mother wanted to join him. His job involved a lot of traveling and in most of your memories, he was holding a suitcase. A few weeks turned into a month the next time, then into a few months you had to stay with your aunt and your cousins. After you turned eight, they were coming back only for a few weeks every year.

When you were ten you stopped answering their calls and refused to talk to them. Your mother still tried, even traveled back to be with you. Instead of staying at your house with her, you stayed with your aunt. Your mother left defeated. It took a year for you to speak to them again. Childish, but you couldn't blame your past self. The cracks in your relationship with your parents were still there. As an attempt to prevent them from widening and growing, you at least tried to attend the events your mother invited you to.

Another one to add to the list.

"Does the duck look ready to you?" you asked Jin. Roasted duck wasn't a dish you had experience with but that wasn't the only reason you called for Jin. Being home for the day you had offered to help Jin cook lunch. Cooking helped take your mind off, focusing on the recipe and chatting with Jin.

Jin left the lettuce he was washing in the bowl and dried his hands in a towel. His steps were careful and measured, one of his hands holding on the counter.

"It looks good," he said. "You can take it out."

You opened the oven, pulling back last minute so the heat wouldn't burn your face. "It smells incredible! I think I got ten times hungrier just smelling this."

Jin chuckled but it was strained. "I'm too good at this." He was still holding onto the counter.

"You won't catch me complaining."

He went back to the lettuce in the sink, his bangs falling into his face and covering his eyes. You wrapped the chicken breasts in foil and let them rest for a few minutes. The figs were caramelized and the potatoes fried until golden. That was about it for the main dish.

Jin was cutting the lettuce so you occupied yourself with making the salad dressing. You worked in silence. It wasn't for the lack of anything to say but a flinch from Jin earlier, while you had been talking, had you lowering your voice and then closing your mouth when you were finished with that sentence. It was only for a moment before he turned away, but it was enough for you to notice. You had asked him if he was alright twice and both times the answer had been the same. After that, it was clear he wouldn't tell you anything else regardless of how many times you asked.

A thud echoed in the room followed, not a second after, by the sound of metal clattering on wood. The spoon you used to mix the ingredients of the salad dressing stilled in your hand. Jin had fallen to his knees on the floor, holding the counted with one hand and his head with the other. The knife laid abandoned on the cutting board next to the lettuce.

For a moment your surroundings blurred from the surprise before coming into crystal clear focus. You rushed to Jin's side, who was trying to pull himself back up to his feet.

"I'm alright. I slipped," he said.

"You slipped? Seriously?" You had one arm around his waist and it stayed there as he leaned back against the counter. "What's wrong?"

"I'm just a little dizzy," Jin muttered. That close to him, only a breath away, you could see how pale he was, the dark circles under his eyes standing out against the white of his skin.

"You haven't been alright since we started cooking. You aren't just a little dizzy, that's not how someone is when they're a little dizzy."

Jin turned his head to the side, avoiding your gaze. "Let it go, please. Only the salad is left. I'll rest after we eat."

"Jin, that's not..." Clueless about how to continue, you pressed your palm to his forehead. In winter your hands were always freezing cold, it didn't matter if the temperature wasn't that low they would turn into popsicles mere seconds after going outside. Only that it wasn’t winter but spring and your hands were as warm as they could be, that’s why it was that much more concerning that his forehead was warmer than it should be under your touch. “You’re burning up. How are you still standing?”

“It isn’t that bad,” Jin said. He wasn’t looking at you.

“It isn’t that bad?” you repeated in disbelief. “Forget about the salad, I’m taking you to your room.”

You were about to turn around when Jin gripped your elbow weakly. “You don’t need to, really, I can finish up here, it isn’t the first time. I can do it.” The sweat that was gathering on his forehead and his tired eyes told a different story.

“You have been cooking while feeling sick?” you asked. Being out of the house almost all day it wouldn’t have been hard to miss and when you came back at night you weren’t that aware of your surroundings, but the other hybrids would have been able to see past Jin’s pretenses.

“Not here,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

That’s something you should have expected. You had never met his previous owners but you couldn’t stop yourself from hating them for what they had done to him. Hate was too strong of a word but you didn’t have any other name for the burning in your chest whenever you witnessed how insecure and self-conscious Jin had become of them.

You cupped his cheek in your palm turning his head to face you and you rested your forehead against his, your noses bumping. At the touch his shoulders slumped, his back muscles unraveling under your hand. Jin joked that it was weird that his scent glands weren’t in the same places as other hybrids’ but in strange places like his forehead. You couldn’t agree with him because standing there with your foreheads touching it was just as intimate.

The walk to his room was silent. You opened the door for him and watched him hide under the covers, between the countless pillows and stuffed animals. Before leaving, you placed a kiss on his forehead your lips warming up because of his fever. You wanted to stay there with him and with the way he was holding your hand he wanted the same but the lettuce was waiting for you back in the kitchen and there were five hybrids you had to feed.

Finishing up the meal was a matter of minutes. The dressing for the salad had been made and you only had to finish cutting the lettuce and a few fresh tomatoes before mixing everything in a large bowl. You unwrapped the foil from around the duck breasts and arranged them in plates, adding the figs with the pan juices and the fried potatoes. It looked like something you would order at a five-star restaurant, most of Jin’s cooking did.

The mouth-watering aroma must have drifted downstairs because as you were putting the last touches on the plates two sets of feet were running up the staircase. Jimin looked like he had been lured into the kitchen by some magical force, transfixed on the plates on the counter. He sniffed, making tiny happy noises.

“This smells so good. I’m hungry!” he whined.

Jungkook followed behind, taking a look at the plates and turning to you with pleading eyes. “When are we eating?”

You shook your head at their antics. “I just finished up, you can take them down if you want so stop looking at me like that.”

Jimin pouted, his shoulders raising. “Looking at you like what?”

“Stop that, I know what you’re doing.”

Jimin continued on, batting his eyelashes at you. “What am I doing? Am I not doing good?”

You pinched his cheek, making him giggle. “I thought you were hungry but apparently you aren’t hungry enough if you’re still here instead of taking the food down.” At that Jungkook was quick to take out the large trays and fill them with the plates and bowls.

Jimin went to help before pausing. “Where is Jinnie?”

Jin was always in the kitchen before meals, helping the two youngest carry the trays to the backyard. You didn’t want to worry Jimin, he was very sensitive to how others were feeling. His emotional walls were so thin that your blues and grays bled into his yellow. “He’s in his room resting, he’s feeling a little under the weather today.”

“But…How didn’t we notice anything?” Jimin asked.

You patted his shoulder. “I didn’t either until we were cooking lunch. He just needs to rest and he will be better in no time.” Jimin gazed at the food like it could give him the answers he was looking for, you continued. “The duck is his recipe, he only went to his room after the food was ready.” You didn’t mention how he had collapsed while cutting the lettuce, a knife in his hand and way too many grievous possibilities.

Jungkook picked up the nicest plate, you had made it last and having used the previous six ones as practice it had come out looking the best. “Can I take it to him?” It was well-known that he had a soft spot for Jin, sneaking into his room the nights he was running away chased by guilt. Jin had been the only one he had let in then. But again, they all had a soft spot for each other, it may translate differently into actions but it was the same at the core.

You pulled out a smaller bowl from the cupboard. Let me put some salad in this first.” This was one of the only salads everyone liked, even Jimin who was firmly against eating most greens (Namjoon didn’t like them much either but at least he was trying). You filled a glass with water as well and placed it on the smaller tray Jungkook had prepared. “Don’t wake him up if he’s sleeping, he looked really tired.”

“I’ll be quiet,” Jungkook promised picking up the tray and leaving for Jin’s room.

Jimin went back to arranging the plates on the trays. “He’ll be alright soon, right?”

“Of course he will,” you reassured him. “In no time he will be shouting at Jungkook for eating his ingredients and having fights with any insects that find their way to the garden. Now, let’s take these down because having the food right in front of me and not eating it is killing me.”

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 Jin had a terrible headache, that’s where everything had started. He had woken up and instantly wanted to roll to his other side and fall asleep again covering his head with the blanket. His eyes refused to stay open and everything around him was like he was in a fog. His body wasn’t his own, it was like watching someone else execute each move he commanded, like he had lost parts of his senses. Everything was duller.

Powering through, he got up and made his bed, throwing the blankets over it with less precision than usual and arranging his stuffed animals against the pillows. It was your day off because of the gala and he had to make breakfast for you and the other hybrids.

It was enough that he got a few more hours of sleep as a result of the lack of your morning schedule. He could deal with the world being a little blurry at the edges and his body not cooperating every few minutes.

He made an easy breakfast for the day, which was a little disappointing when you were able to sit and enjoy it for once, but he was physically unable to do anything more. Sitting down would help. After breakfast, he would lay down on the couch and he would be better in no time.

Breakfast came and went and in a few hours, he had to start making lunch. Your offer to help was a godsend with his feet feeling like jelly. He thought he had it under control, that he could get through lunch then go to his room and hide under the covers where no one could see him. Until his legs gave up on him.

The knife slipped out of his hand and he watched its slow descent to the cutting board. In a blink he was on his knees, he blinked again and you were next to him helping him up. Hybrids weren’t supposed to get sick, scientists had engineered their whole being down to the color of their hair and eyes, they could strengthen their immune system as well. His past owners used to say that it was in his head because he was living with humans, that if he got sick the center must have given them a problematic hybrid and that couldn’t be true. He had paid a lot for Jin.

The door opened just enough for you to poke your head in. “Jin?” you whispered, quiet enough to not wake him up if he had been sleeping but loud enough for his hearing to pick up while awake. He lowered the blankets from his face. “Hey, did you finish with your food?”

“Yeah, it’s…” He pointed to the tray on the nightstand, he didn’t have enough strength to take it to the desk. You didn’t comment on the food that was left on the plates.

“Are you feeling any better?” you asked. His head still hurt and the heaviness of his body didn’t subside, but it was much better than when he had been standing so he nodded. “Do you need anything else? I brought some medicine if you want, I read that it’s alright for hybrids to take.” Despite the pain and the weariness of his body, he smiled at you and your research. The way you cared about them was endearing. You pulled out a packet from your back pocket.

“I think I’ll take one.” The constant drumming behind his temples and the back of his head was getting too much. It was so bad it wouldn’t let him sleep.

“I’ll go get some water for you.” You left the packet on the nightstand and picked up the tray with the leftovers.

Jin rolled to his back staring at the ceiling. He didn’t get sick often and he hated how his body was betraying him. You returned with a glass filled with water in one hand and a jug in the other.

“There you go,” you said handing him the glass. You opened the medicine packet and pressed a white tablet out. It was light in his palm, almost as if it wasn’t there. He put it in his mouth and washed it down with water. “You’ll feel better in no time.” You stroked his hair and he had to hold himself back from purring. Being sick he craved affection more than ever before.

“Don’t come too close, you’ll get sick too.”

You didn’t pull back. “Then I’ll have a reason to stay at home. It doesn’t sound so bad.” You tugged at the blanket. “Fancy some company?” Jin scooted to the side, letting you slip in next to him. Something inside him rejoiced at having you in his nest with him. It was ridiculous, having the need to nest was ridiculous, but he couldn’t suppress it. You turned around to face him, your head on a light blue pillow you had picked up from the pile. “Do you mind if I stay here for a bit?”

In the absence of words, he nodded his head. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. You weren’t wearing makeup today in anticipation of the heavy makeup you would have to wear for the gala. The shadows under your eyes, concealed any other day, were threatening to spill over the rest of your face. The late nights had been many in the past few days, making up for the breaks you were taking. More and more he came to realize that work was your life and you were like a fish escaping water pushing it back.

You didn’t speak, basking in the silent company of each other. Jin let his worries go and, thanks to the medicine, his headache got duller until he couldn’t feel it. He didn’t notice when he fell asleep, waking up to voices.

“…feeling better, the medicine must have kicked in. His temperature has gone back to normal too,” you whispered.

“Okay, that’s good. Our Jinnie is strong,” the other voice said and heat traveled up to the top of Jin’s ears. The voice was unmistakably Namjoon’s and it was so warm Jin wanted to wrap it around himself and never let go. “I think we woke him up.”

“Oh no,” you complained, still whispering. “Jin?”

He opened his eyes, abandoning the comfort of the familiar darkness. You leaning on your forearm peering at him. His heart was beating faster.

“We woke you up, didn’t we?” you asked, looking guilty.

“It’s alright.” He could hear how rough his voice was from sleep. “What time is it?”

“Five,” you said.

He had been sleeping for more than three hours.

Namjoon took a step forward from the door. “I brought you some tea and biscuits,” he said, placing the tray on the now-empty nightstand.

Jin sat up on the bed with his back against the headboard. “Thank you. Can you…?” You picked up the steaming mug and handed it to him, holding it carefully so he wouldn’t burn himself. The plate of biscuits was placed on his lap over the blankets. It was a warm day but the air-conditioning was on in Jin’s room, the weight of the blankets over him promised safety and he didn’t want to be sweating from the heat.

“I’ll be going then,” Namjoon said with a small smile, the two of you exchanging a look.

“Wait.” Namjoon stopped in his tracks. Jin blamed his impulsiveness on the part of him that was controlled by the sugar-glider’s nature. Namjoon shouldn’t be leaving. Namjoon was pack and he should be with him when he wasn’t well, he should be taking care of Jin. One followed the other and it didn’t listen to logic. But he was tired and although the headache was gone, his head was still hazy, so he gave in. “Can you stay?”

The soft smile on Namjoon’s face was enough to wipe away any of his lingering doubts. “Of course I can.” Jin pulled up the blankets inviting him in. Namjoon pulled him closer bringing his forehead to his. The mug shook in Jin’s hold, you covered his hand with yours steading it. Jin realized it wasn’t only his hands shaking as Namjoon scented him tenderly. He felt so weak between the two of you.

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  The makeup artist asked you to close your eyes again to finish your eyeliner. Your makeup had to compliment your dress, like you were a model on the runway and your purpose was to sell the design. You had to admit that it looked beautiful so far, the gold eyeshadow and the dramatic eyeliner. She completed the look with a matte red lipstick while the hairstylist was releasing the last loose curl from the curling wand. You looked like someone out of a movie and tonight you would have to own that.

They helped you put on the dress like you were incapable of doing it on your own. In these cases, everything had to be perfect, including the most mundane of things. The jewelry was modest as not to take the attention away from the dress but enhance the look. A golden necklace with a ruby surrounded by tiny diamonds to decorate the skin the plunging neckline left bare, small diamond earrings, and golden bracelets.

Half an hour left before the gala and you were ready. The charm was arriving a little late so you had to wait before leaving. The stylists took their leave but you stayed at the fitting room/styling section of the closet, which was right under the actual master closet.

The dress fit you like a glove, bringing attention to all the right areas and burying any imperfections. It was the kind of Cinderella transformation the protagonists in older movies used to go through before getting the guy, but it happened all the time to you. A spy in an action movie, a confident heroine knowing how to use her looks, a girl going to a party to have fun and get drunk, that’s more along the lines of the characters you liked to imagine yourself as. You were far from being any of those characters but it was fun to daydream sometimes.

One last look in the mirror and you climbed up the spiral staircase to your closet, turning off the lights behind you. The designer you had met had been pleasant and your conversations hadn’t been awkward. If the rest of the guests, or at least the majority, were like him then the night could be fun.

The hybrids were all in the living room, even Hoseok and Yoongi. Yoongi wasn’t sitting far from them, in a separate sphere, but next to Jimin who was pointing at something in a book. They all looked at you when you came in, the back of the dress sweeping the floor behind you.

“How does it look?” you asked, doing a twirl. The response was delayed by a few moments.

Namjoon snapped out of it first, coming closer to you and taking your hand. “You look beautiful.” He leaned in for your neck before his face scrunched up in displeasure.

“What?” you asked.

He sniffed at the air. “You…”

“Oh, oh,” you said in realization. “It’s the perfume, it’s quite strong, isn’t it? It’s a Christmas gift from my mother, she said she really liked it so I thought I would wear it for her.”

Namjoon tamed his expression but the frown didn’t disappear. “It’s a little overwhelming. It overpowers everything else.” The perfume was too much for you too, it wasn’t surprising that it was too much for the keen noses of the hybrids. The perfume you wore day to day in spring was a lot lighter and you didn’t put on a lot. You had never stopped to think about how perfumes would affect the hybrids.

“I’ll be sure to not wear it again then,” you said, giving his hand a squeeze.

“That isn’t what I meant.” Namjoon scratched the back of his neck. “You can wear it if you like it. It’s just a little much.”

“Well,” you looked at him and the other hybrids conspiratorially, “it isn’t my favorite, either, and if it affects you like that why would I keep wearing it?” Namjoon’s face smoothed out and you noticed Hoseok looking at you with amazement.

You opened the leather clutch and put in your phone and your keys. Your lipstick and powder were already inside along with a pack of tissues. It didn’t fit any more things.

“I’ll be going now. I’m fashionably late enough.” Before going, Jungkook and Jimin kissed you on each cheek careful not to ruin your makeup. Jin had fallen asleep again and none of you were willing to wake him up.

The night could become difficult so you ignored Yoongi’s eyes on you. You didn’t need any more people judging you.

A limousine was waiting for you outside, limousines were practically part of the dress code in these events. John wasn’t with you this time, you had given him the night off. These kinds of events starred in his nightmares, standing in the corner all night not saying a word. That’s how they kept up the illusion. Regardless of how many times you told him you didn’t care about it, he would follow what was expected of him.

The bright lights blinded you when you arrived. Everyone seemed to want to take a look at you. Your heels sunk into the red carpet at the entrance hall, large paintings in golden frames hanging from the walls. You were led up a grand staircase to the hall the gala was taking place. And so the night began…

You listened through speeches about fashion and the vision of the fashion industry and each individual designer. A few parts were quite interesting, but most of them failed to do anything more than repeat the same old ideas again and again. However, the champagne did make everything a little more tolerable. Your mother had been very happy to see you there and she had told you at least three times how beautiful you were. Your father smiled at you, a smile that looked way too political to be for his daughter, the same smile he would put on when greeting the president.

After the speeches were finished, your mother linked your elbows. It was time for the introductions. You put on your camera smile and shook more hands than you ever did at work. The compliments on your work were many, which ones were genuine was a mystery. But it did feel good when the daughter of one of your father’s associates told you how much she loved the finale of season 4 of Paper Hearts and asked you about Six of Crows.

You said goodbye to an older couple and your mother led you to the buffet. A sculpture of a man pinning fabrics on a mannequin stood proudly in the middle, surrounded by plates of food so perfect that it looked more fake than the decorative food pieces you used on set.

Your mother took another flute of champagne from a waiter. “Mr. Jones will be retiring soon but his son doesn’t want to take over the company. It causes a lot of family drama. I heard they only exchange a few words when they meet but Mr. Jones isn’t backing down.” You had no idea what company they had or who their son was but you nodded. “Ah, I wanted to ask you. You didn’t say anything about adopting hybrids.”

Your hand stilled before you could taste the hors d' oeuvres that looked like a sandwich but was too fancy to call it that. “Hybrids?” you repeated.

“I didn’t know you were interested in them,” your mother continued, unaware of how tense you had become. “Certainly not interested enough to adopt four. Are you making a collection?” She laughed at her joke but you only felt ill.

“No, I wouldn’t say that.” You took a bite of the food, trying to swallow it down. You had lost your appetite.

Your mother sipped on her champagne. “That would be a unique one, it could be showcased.” The churning in your stomach got worse. You left the piece that looked like a sandwich aside.

“How did you learn of it?”

“Don’t you read any magazines? It was front-page news.” You had expected that the information would be published sooner or later, you hadn’t been exactly hiding it, but sooner or later was in the future not now. “You should have told me, I would have looked for some high-quality places to buy them from. There are some very beautiful exotic pieces I have seen. Mrs. Anderson, do you remember her? She couldn’t make it this time but she was at the charity event last September.” You didn’t remember her but you nodded again. “She has such a cute chinchilla hybrid and he’s so well-trained too. I hope yours were trained well, I heard it’s difficult to train them yourself. Where did you adopt them from?”

You swallowed down the lump in your throat. “An adoption center in Los Angeles,” you lied easily. Spending hours and hours every day with actors, instructing them about how each scene would seem more natural, you had picked up a few tricks. “I just really liked them and they were already a pack, I didn’t want to break them up.”

Your mother arched a single perfectly-drawn eyebrow, a skill you had sadly not inherited. “A pack? Does that actually exist? Dear, the center must have been trying to give you four hybrids instead of one. Pack,” she tried out the word and she didn’t particularly like the results. “That certainly sounds like some kind of con. What are they? Are all of them wolves?”

“No, they aren’t all wolves. And it was three hybrids, I adopted the other one later from Tennessee with Taylor.”

Taylor’s name brought a spark to your mother. “Oh, how is Taylor? Such a sweet girl, I should have invited her. I will next time.” Your mother had met Taylor exactly once during one of the few of your movie premieres she had actually attended. “Which one did you adopt from there?”

You gritted your teeth, debating how much information was wise to give your mother. “Jin, he’s a sugar glider hybrid.”

That seemed to please her. “Sugar glider? That sounds fancy. I would like to see him up close.” Like you would ever allow that to happen. “He must be a rare breed.”

“He is.”

“Of course, I should have expected that my daughter would decide on a rare breed,” she said as if she was congratulating herself. “I insist you bring him to the next event. I was never that interested in hybrids, too much work, but one would look good in photos.”

“Yeah, I guess he would.” You took a deep breath, it wasn’t the time to throw a tantrum like you were five years old again or puke all over your expensive dress and shoes.

The expression on your mother’s face grew somber. “But four hybrids are a lot, I don’t think I know anyone who owns that many.” She twirled the flute in her hand, waves of the golden liquor hitting the glass and bubbles rising to the surface. “After what happened with Jacob I understand you have been feeling lonely, but hybrids aren’t good substitutes for human company, dear. You can’t rely on them as you relied on him or another man.”

A waiter offered you a glass of champagne from a golden tray. You couldn’t drink too much and risk your tongue loosening but you could allow yourself one more glass to get through this. “I’m not trying to replace him. They aren’t some kind of rebound.”

By her pinched expression, she didn’t believe you. “It’s alright to look for company somewhere else when you feel lonely. I don’t want you to think I’m judging your choices, you are an adult and free to make your own decisions but I’m your mother and I’m worried. You and Jacob were together for so long, we were sure he was the one for you. He was so nice and he took care of you. Your father and I were so happy for you.”

“Not all good relationships last. People change, they grow apart.”

“That’s true. It’s difficult getting out of a relationship after being together for so many years and getting back to your feet. That’s why I understand. I understand that you don’t want to be alone right now but don’t put all of your energy into hybrids. It just isn’t the same. Whatever some people like to say, hybrids are hybrids. They are different from us, they are on a different level. You can’t have the same connection with someone you own.”

Her words continued ringing in your mind for the rest of the night. Your father soon called you to introduce you to one of his colleagues, a successful businessman and politician you had never heard of. The glass of champagne was replaced by another one. You promised yourself it was the last. The owner of a luxurious brand talked with your mother about his plan to expand to more countries and the rehearsed and repeated vision to connect the world through fashion.

You peered at the other guests, all mingling, talking, and laughing. A man only a few feet away from you slapped a girl’s ass. You couldn’t believe your eyes, stuff like that didn’t happen at an event like this. You expected a scene, shouting and screaming and everything in between. Nothing happened. The man that had his arm around her waist only laughed. That’s when you noticed the black fluffy ears on top of her head, they were the same color as her hair and easy to miss. She didn’t have a tail. A silver collar with blue stones the same shade as her dress was secured around her neck. Her shoulders were tense and her head lowered.

In any other situation, any other time, you would have done something. You would have walked up to them and said something, anything you could think of on the spot, even talked to her, made a few minutes more tolerable. You did none of those things. Your parents were there and you had avoided embarrassing them all your life.

The guilt was eating you up, wrapping around all your organs and squeezing, hissing, and calling for your attention, not letting you forget. You had done nothing. If someone had touched your hybrids like that you would have cut their hands off. But that hadn’t been your hybrid, it hadn’t been your place. It hadn’t been your place like it hadn’t been your place to adopt Jin and go against his owner, like it hadn’t been your place to get involved with Namjoon’s pack or Yoongi and Hoseok for that matter. Maybe you had been tricking yourself all along, hiding your selfishness and fear behind the pretense of “not my place”.

Your mother was wrong, you hadn’t been looking for company when you and Jacob broke up. On the contrary, you disregarded everything except work, distancing yourself from all of your friends. It was easy with how busy you were at the time. You would have continued hiding in the Castle and spent your break alone if you hadn’t asked John to stop the car that night. They were what you didn’t know you needed. You had to stop being alone first to realize how lonely you had been.

You couldn’t go back to living like that, waking up and returning to an empty house, having no warm meal and warmer hugs waiting for you. That’s what your life had been like for the longest time and you wondered how you used to live like that. The hybrids were so tangled up in your life you couldn’t find where each thread ended or started. They merged and divided, connecting you all in ways you couldn’t describe.

Taylor had asked you about any crushes when you had been in Virginia, everyone was expecting you to find a new boyfriend after six months or at least start dating but you couldn’t bring yourself to do that. No one had piqued your interest and it wasn’t for lack of meeting new people. It would feel wrong going on a date with someone when the hybrids were waiting for you back home. And that’s where the problem was; it shouldn’t feel wrong. Many people who had hybrids went on dates, couples adopted hybrids together and it should be like that for you. But it wasn’t.

Overthinking was one of your talents and you had avoided like you were being chased by wild dogs. You weren’t one to simply go with the flow but Namjoon’s lips on your own had changed your mind. You were too afraid of losing that that you hadn’t allowed yourself to analyze what you were doing, what that meant for you. Namjoon was your hybrid, you may not act like it or think of him like that but you were his owner in the papers. And it wasn’t only Namjoon, the way you cared about the hybrids was different from the way you felt about anyone else. It was all-consuming and too bright. You felt more for them than you had ever felt about Jacob and that was dangerous.

You excused yourself from the event as soon as it was proper for you to do so. Tomorrow morning you had to wake up early for work and you couldn’t stay late into the night. It was true but not the reason you left. Your mother hugged you and thanked you for coming, inviting you once again to their house in New York. She had been inviting you every time you met and you hadn’t once been to their house.

The window of the limousine was cold against your cheek, your foundation staining the glass. Maybe your mother wasn’t that wrong. You didn’t dare put a name to your feelings but you couldn’t deny that they were there. Were you really that lonely that your mind was playing tricks on you? Groaning, you knocked your head against the glass, hard enough to hear a small thud. You shouldn’t be thinking of them like that, it was wrong, so wrong.

Was it the way the world viewed hybrids messing with you, bleeding into your subconscious? They were presented as the answer to any and all desires, transformed into wet dreams. The media had the power to influence behaviors and thoughts little by little without the person noticing. You had thought you were too clever to fall victim to their molded reality. You knocked your head against the glass again, the driver must have been thinking you were crazy.

The limousine parked in front of the Castle. On other nights the lights would have been turned off by now but tonight they were all shinning, welcoming you home. You fished your keys out of your bag and unlocked the door. The lights were on in the living room in the lowest setting.

“Welcome.” You jumped, almost tumbling to the floor at being startled while taking off your heels.

“Every. Single. Time.” Namjoon laughed quietly. “How do you do this every single time?”

“I was already here, I couldn’t make any more noise.” He got up from the couch, extending a hand to you. You took it and he guided you to the couch. “Did you have a good time?”

The dress wrinkled as you pulled one foot under you but you couldn’t care less. “It was… bearable. I didn’t-” You let your head fall on the back of the couch. Seeing Namjoon up close after the night you had, looking at you with soft eyes like you held the sky in the palm of your hand, everything was coming back. What were you doing here? Your heart shouldn’t be racing like that when you were thinking about the wolf hybrid, your hands shouldn’t be itching to touch him.

“You’re here now, you can relax,” he said trailing his hand from your arm to your shoulder and up your neck. Goosebumps raised on your bare skin. “You’re home.” His breath tickled your face, his lips were so close and you wanted, you wanted… You pushed him back.

“I should go take off my makeup. I’m exhausted.”

Namjoon frowned but he didn’t question you. “Okay,” he said softly. “Your bed must be calling your name.”

“It is,” you said slipping away from him. The absence of his touch left a void inside you. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

You went to your room with a heavy heart, leaving Namjoon alone in the living room.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

 You found the offending magazine in a store close to the studios. Copies of it filled a whole stand. The cover was a photo of you with Jin and Jimin in front of the waffle place the day you had taken them with you to the table-reading. It really was front-page news.

In A Stunning Display of Power And Wealth Y/N Y/L/N Adopts Four Hybrids

Straight to the point, every word chosen precisely to attract attention. A display of power and wealth. Of course, that’s what sold copies. That’s what people wanted to read; how one of the richest and most famous directors of your generation was showing off their wealth and power. Hybrids continued to be a sign of money. To adopt four hybrids meant you were crazy rich, but people already knew that when similar headlines had swept all tabloids just a year ago, brought on by the outrageous purchase of the Castle.

Four pages were dedicated to you and your hybrids, completed with more photos of the same day and quotes from “insider sources”. You closed the magazine and went to the counter. The cashier scanned it without glancing at your face, which saved you some trouble. You almost thought you would have to re-enact the comedic scene of the cashier looking at the magazine, then at you, then back at the magazine, then back at you like a robot that had stopped working. You shoved the magazine in your bag, self-conscious of anyone seeing it on you, and went back to the studios.

Filming would begin very soon, which meant you were swamped with work. Everything had to be perfect because that’s the kind of director you were. A perfectionist. If it also gave you an excuse not to think about the hybrids and all of the implications of the flutter of your heart when you were with them, you weren’t complaining. And if you were a little more distant, that could easily be attributed to your work too.

Sleepless nights became too common, your head was too loud and Jimin laying next to you only made it louder.

Filming started and your schedule changed. Most days you still woke up early and returned late at night, but because each scene required a specific time of the day there were nights you came back hours after midnight. You had promised the hybrids you would take them with you on set but every morning you got in the car alone.

Fourth day of filming and unexpected rain forced you to cancel the outside shooting. You only had outside filming that day. You rushed to make adjustments and switch to scenes that could be filmed inside the studios. The crew would need time to prepare everything for the filming so you had been left with the morning off.

You unlocked the door, hiding inside the house from the rain. It hadn’t rained like that in a long time. The heavens had opened up and the rain refused to stop coming down like it was determined to turn Los Angeles into a gigantic lake. Your shoes left puddles wherever you stepped, you would have to mop the floors later. You took them off and placed them by the door. They had suffered the most, the rest of yourself was relatively dry with the exception of the lower part of your pants.

No one was attacking you with hugs as you closed the umbrella someone from the staff had handed you, the hybrids mustn’t have heard you coming in. If they had heard you, you would have had an armful of Jimin and Jungkook by now.

“Oh, hey Yoongi,” you greeted the panther hybrid coming out of the kitchen. Your tactic with Yoongi was to act like you were talking to someone who didn’t strongly dislike you. The scowls and the sneers had decreased turning into a plastic sort of indifference and that’s what made you pause. His scowl could cut you like a knife. “Are you alright?”

Yoongi stalked past you. “What are doing back?” he asked harshly.

You were taken aback for a moment. He hadn’t spoken like that to you since before you had left for Virginia. “I have the morning off because of the rain. Did something happen here?”

“Why do you care?” Yoongi stood by the staircase, his black tail unmoving behind him.

“Why would I not care?” you shot back. The rain had already ruined your plans for the day and caused you enough stress to last you for a few more, you didn’t have enough energy to deal with Yoongi. “Seriously, what happened? Is Hoseok alright?”

A low growl vibrated through the room, you almost took a step back at the threatening sound. “Don’t you speak his name. Was caring for him another way to make you feel powerful? Is this some kind of sick way for you to gain power over someone?”

You were too tired to handle this delicately as you should, you recognized that and proceeded to ignore it. “What the hell is this about? I just came back from work.”

Yoongi scoffed, it was an ugly sound. “Because you have brainwashed everyone else, don’t think I don’t see you for who you are. Have you sold our story yet? About how you saved Hoseok and nursed him back to health? I am sure that will sell many magazines. Show them all how all-powerful you are.”

Through the haze of the day, the words started to click. “You found the magazine.”

“You didn’t try to hide it.” You couldn’t remember where you had left it, it had probably ended up in the stack of magazines under the living room table. “I knew no one would take four hybrids in out of the goodness of their hearts. Did it work? Was it worth it or are you already getting bored? Maybe you should adopt a couple more. Make more headlines.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” you gritted out.

“That’s what you’d like to think,” Yoongi sneered. “All of you are the same. Hiding in your mansions and looking for the next chance to brandish your name. It’s a constant chase of power and standing, isn’t it? And you’ll use anyone you’ll find in your way to climb higher. I know how it is. You can’t fool me. I’ve been dealing with people like you for years!”

Your pants and your wet socks were sticking uncomfortably to your skin. Your head was buzzing. It hurt because that’s everything you had been trying to avoid. Everything you had promised yourself not to become. Everything you had criticized your parents and their circle for. You weren’t like them. You had never been like them.

“You don’t know me, don’t pretend you do,” you said forcefully. “Do you really think that’s how magazines work? I just call them and tell them I want them to write about me? Put me on the front cover? That’s not it. Even if it was, why would I do that? I couldn’t care less about the power-plays you’re talking about. I’m a director and my work speaks for itself. I don’t need magazines to brandish my name because my movies and my shows are more than enough. The paparazzi saw the chance and they took it. Their goal is to sell and their headlines showcase exactly that; what people would buy. I never hid the fact that I adopted hybrids but I wasn’t flaunting it to the media either.”

“Why should I believe you?” Yoongi growled.

You sighed, a sound full of frustration. “Frankly, I don’t see what else I could do to make you believe me! I tended to Hoseok. I didn’t ask any questions. I tried hard not to cross any boundaries and to make you feel welcome. What more do you want me to do?”

“Nothing,” Yoongi said simply. “Nothing you do can change my mind.”

It was like a stone dropped in the pit of your stomach. You shouldn’t have expected anything else. Yoongi had been through a lot, that much was clear, but it was unfair that he was taking out everything on you. You were paying for the scars other humans had inflicted on him.

“I’m not who you think I am.”

“You don’t know what I think.”

“It’s pretty clear,” you muttered. “Alright, I can’t change your mind, I won’t even try. I know how to pick my battles. But if you really despise me so much then why bother? Nothing you say will change anything. Are you trying to uncover some hidden truth about me and how evil I am? Then what?”

The fur on Yoongi’s tail and ears stood on end. “I don’t care. I don’t care about you, about what you have done and what you will do as long as we’re gone from here. I don’t care for your charity or your pity. Did it ever occur to you that I never wanted to be here in the first place?”

You swallowed, willing your heart rate to calm down. “Then tell Hoseok and Jimin yourself. The keys are by the door.”

You didn’t wait for Yoongi to say anything else, turning around and locking yourself in your room. You laid down on your bed, your hands gripping your hair. The exhaustion this time was beyond physical, beyond mental. Your hands retreated from your hair, sliding down your cheeks. Your fingers were wet.

Later when Jimin and Jungkook knocked on the door, you had to open the door or risk worrying them. They jumped on the bed and snuggled close to you. You held your phone waiting for the call to go to the studios.

You didn’t face any new problems with filming. The actors were all incredible, seemingly one with their characters. You did a lot of filming at 300 Fox Way, the psychic’s house with its mystic aura and weirdly compelling assortment of objects. You instructed the actors, talked with the crew, and analyzed the script down to each comma. Focusing on anything other than Yoongi’s words and your hybrids had turned into an art form.

The sleepless nights didn’t cease, you and the moonlight had become good friends. Jimin’s visits to your room thinned out. He had noticed you pulling away. You didn’t hug him anymore or kissed his forehead before falling asleep, you couldn’t come to terms with doing that after everything that had happened. You had thought that maybe you would sleep better alone but that had been proved false soon after.

You got out of bed for the fourth night in a row. Every position was uncomfortable. Keeping your steps light you left the room. The large house was eerie at night, the living room area with its glass walls looked endless, combining the actual living room, the dining room, and what the real estate agents had called the family room that was really just another living room.

You couldn’t stay in your room on nights like these, it was too contained. The night air on your skin sent shivers down your frame as you walked out on the balcony. It was two days before the full moon and its glow illuminated the world.

What had you gotten yourself into? You wished you could go back to that morning and decline your mother’s invitation to the gala. Maybe, just maybe, then you would be able to sleep, your head wouldn’t be fighting you at every turn, at every chance.

Little pieces of moonlight shimmered and danced on the lake. The calmness of the world was a stark contrast to the mess in your head. You remembered how Jungkook had looked at the lake in awe that very first night, you had noticed then that he looked at Jimin the same way. You wondered how you looked at them and if anyone had noticed.

The moon had no answers for you.

Two golden eyes were looking up at you from the garden, they shone like the fires that had been extinguished earlier. Namjoon tilted his head, inviting you down. A weird sense of deja vu took over. You had lived something very similar before, a night that had changed so much.

You shouldn’t go. You should stay where you were, alone and safe, away from fluttering heartbeats and dangerous warmth. But the night had its way of calling out the risky nature of people. The thrill was so much more enticing when darkness ruled.

Climbing down the stairs, you kept your steps quiet. You never knew which sound would wake up the hybrids. Namjoon was standing by the flower bushes close to the curtain of vines that lead into the forest. He was wearing a dark blue pair of pajama pants and a simple black T-shirt.

“What are you doing awake so late?” you whispered, like everything around you had ears.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

You shook your head. “I have trouble sleeping, remember?”

Namjoon had caught you a few times wandering the house at night, he was the only one who knew that a lot of nights sleep didn’t come to you willingly. His own nightly adventures were more complicated.

“Why are you awake?” you asked him again. “Please don’t tell me you smelled distress or something again or I’ll freak.”

Namjoon chuckled, you had missed it. Keeping your distance meant you only saw them for barely two hours every day. They all tried to not make too much noise with you in the constant mood of ‘tired and gloomy’.

“No, that’s not it.” He looked up, over the trees. “It’s the full moon.”

“You have to be kidding me. Do you turn into a wolf too?”

Namjoon raised his hands in surrender, his dimples on full display. “I’m joking, I’m joking. I couldn’t sleep either and I like being outside at night like this. It’s peaceful.”

You couldn’t disagree with that. There was something alluring about the quiet of the night. You would describe yourself more as a morning person than a night owl but both of them were true, waking up early for work then staying up late for it too.

“Are you alright?” The smile had fallen from his lips.

You squirmed under the intensity of his gaze. “I’m just tired, that’s all. Filming takes a lot out of me.”

Namjoon sighed. “Are you sure that’s all there is? You have been acting differently, did you think we wouldn’t notice?”

You knew they would notice but you had hoped they would think it was because of your work. Work did take a lot out of you but it also used to be the reason you were so much happier returning home.

“It has been going on for too long. You don’t spend any time outside your room or your office if it isn’t to eat. You are avoiding us. Jimin and Jungkook stopped scenting you because they think they’re making you uncomfortable.”

“It isn’t- They aren’t making me uncomfortable. I’m just tired from work and I don’t-” you tried to deny it but you fell short of excuses.

“You were working before too, but it wasn’t like this,” he pointed out. “You were tired then too. Some nights you came back and I could smell the exhaustion around you like a disease. But you smiled when Jimin and Jungkook ran up to you and didn’t let you go, you laughed at Jin laughing at his own jokes. You came to me when it got too loud here.” He pointed to your head.

“We weren’t filming then.” It was a weak attempt but you had to make it.

Namjoon regarded you carefully. Beams of moonlight got tangled in his gray hair turning it silver. He looked at home right there at that moment, close to the trees with the moon shining on him. He was every bit of magic you had ever witnessed.

“This started before filming did. I knew there was something wrong when you came back from the gala. Something happened there,” Namjoon concluded. “I should have come with you.”

You shook your head vigorously. Imagining him next to you while your mother spoke about hybrids like that was torture. “No, you shouldn’t. You shouldn’t have been with me.” You paused to compose yourself. “It wasn’t good, it was really bad actually. It wasn’t the gala itself, there some interesting people and… My mother…” You took a deep breath. “I don’t think I like my parents very much,” you admitted.

It was hard to say after years of half-hearted attempts at mending your relationship with them. All those years apart you had become very different people. You had trouble remembering what they were like before they left you in your aunt’s care. You couldn’t see any traces of them in yourself, you didn’t enjoy what they enjoyed, your interests and priorities, the way you viewed the world were very different.

In the past few days, you had grown to hate your mother’s voice in your head but you had a feeling that it had been much longer than that. The only difference was that before, you had been able to ignore it.

Namjoon came closer, his hand touching your palm waiting for you to make the first move. You took his hand in yours, laying your head on his chest. “That’s alright. You don’t have to like them, no one is forcing you to.”

“But they are my parents.”

He stroked your back gently. “It doesn’t matter, that isn’t enough of a reason.”

“They aren’t bad people.”

“They don’t need to be bad people for you to dislike them.”

You stayed like that for a few moments, taking in his presence. You had missed being in his arms so much, like an ache that couldn’t go away.

He stopped stroking your back, cupping your cheek and pulling back so you were facing each other. “I’m always here for you. I don’t care about anything else but seeing you happy. I’m here.”

“I missed you,” you admitted like it was a secret.

Namjoon smiled softly. “I missed you too.” His thumb caressed your lower lip. There was a tingling sensation all over your skin. “Can I?” he asked just like the very first time.

You let out a shuddering breath. “Should we be doing this?”

“Do you want to?” he asked carefully.

You bit your lip before nodding. He leaned down connecting your lips. It was soft and careful, all the longing and hurt of the past days poured into the kiss. You pulled him closer and he came willingly. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

An awful laugh cut through the night. You pulled away from Namjoon like you had been burnt. Yoongi was one with the night, dark like a shadow.

“So this is it? Is this why you adopted them all? So you can have your pick when you’re in the mood?” The expression on his face was cruel, twisted up in disgust.

Namjoon growled, his sharp canines shinning in the moonlight. In that moment, Namjoon looked more dangerous than ever before. “Shut your mouth.”

“I see she has turned you into her dog. How long did it take to tame you?”

You held Namjoon back before he could lunge at the panther. You were afraid that if you let him go, there would blood on their clothes. “Don’t.”

Yoongi took a tense step forward. “That’s right, listen to your owner. Is that what she has turned all of you into? Her toys? Just for a roof over your head and food?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Namjoon growled. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that. You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”

Yoongi clenched his fists. There was anger and something else you couldn’t see in the night amidst your panic. “I knew it. I knew no one did what you did without any kind of agenda. Seems like the magazine was right, at least in part. You can’t fool me, even if you managed to fool everyone else.”

With that he was gone, like he was never there.

You couldn’t breathe. Your hand was still wrapped around Namjoon’s wrist and you couldn’t breathe. You counted in your head. One, two, three…

When Namjoon tried to touch your shoulder, you pulled away. “I’m going back to my room,” you said. Your voice sounded shaky to your own ears. Namjoon called out to you but you didn’t stop. He didn’t try to touch you again.

Please comment and reblog it motivates me to keep writing

[redrobin-detective]

Ben 10 lore that exists in my heart regardless of canon

- Ben’s personality in his mid-late teens is a mix of his Alien Force and Omniverse self. On the surface, he’s very cheerful and kind even if he is a bit of arrogant showoff. He makes jokes and plays around and acts as if he isn’t bothered by the things in his life. Those who know him best understand a good portion of his outward confidence and cockiness is just a facade to cover up his insecurities and to project the ideal, effortless hero. While sometimes seen as immature, most beings know Ben 10 means business as he takes his unofficial job and people’s safety very seriously. He’s clever, adaptable, charismatic and empathetic which makes him a formidable opponent and a loyal friend. Doesn’t open up easily but if you get to him, he become so dearly attached. 

- Drinks smoothies so much for several reasons. Comfort food go brrr, reminds him of the good easy times with him Gwen and Kev. It’s also a light but generally nutritous food to give him energy for heroing. Anything too heavy and he’ll be puking (both from physical and emotional stress). Though he jokes about his mom’s health foods, his are a crazy concoction of add in proteins and vitamins/minerals bc he knows he’ll out and out collapse without it. (Still has on occasion bc boy still doesn’t eat right/enough)

- While Fame is exciting for him at first he soon begins to detest it. Not the fans, no, he can’t bring himself to hate the people who look up to him. But he hates the constant attention, that he can’t walk outside without being mobbed. the only place he feels safe is his hometown where most people are so used to him and his weirdness that they don’t react much anymore. Takes to wearing a cape and face shield when going out anywhere so he can actually get things done without being recognized and mobbed.

- Part of the reason Bellwood isn’t concerned with Ben is partially because ben’s been weird and alien for as long as they can remember but also many don’t realize how famous/powerful he is. Yeah that’s just Ben Tennyson over there, sometimes he turns into funny creatures- wait what do you MEAN he’s the savior of the universe?? He cried over a spilled smoothie the other day.

- Does mostly online schooling by the time he’s 15. At first he tries to do half day things to maintain something of a normal life but it quickly becomes overwhelming and dangerous him/the school. Finishes his GED early but the Plumbers and Azmuth make him take additional college level and alien courses to prepare him for his future role. Ben gripes but really does love learning all these things, especially on his terms (ADHD and stress + the public school system do not always go hand in hand). He’s a quick learner when he deems the information important and is made accessible to his learning needs.

- Ben definitely has ADHD speaking of which, it was nearly uncontrollable as a child bc his free-spirited parents didn’t believe in medicating. Ben convinced them he needed it and after some trial and error, found meds that worked. As he became more involved in heroics/growing up he had to change his medicine regimen (resulting in him being a bit more off the rails in OV) and needed antidepressants and therapy to manage it better. As an adult he has a whole litany of coping mechanisms (good and bad yes) and regularly checks in with his therapist and doctors to keep things under control. 

- Has a complicated relationship with his necrofriggian children. Considers himself their mother and worries after them. They too feel a connection to their parent despite this being unusual for their species. A few visit (some more than others) while they grow while others maintain distance. Ben never breathes a word of them to the media for fear of them being targeted. Still he keeps an eye on them and ensures all 14 mature to adulthood (another rarity for the species). Checks in every now and again with the ones who don’t want to see him and those that do. Two join the Plumbers and Ben is both proud and worried. His youngest becomes partners with Rook Ben.

- Just in general loves kids, they’re his favorite fans and while he’ll grumble at pushy adult fans he always smiles and kneels down for the little ones. Not so secretly wanted to have children of his own but knew it was a risk overall and used a lot of that energy with mentoring and teaching. Eventually had Kenny later in life (late 30s-40s) and was over the moon, becoming such a loving and doing parent or as much as he could be with his hectic schedule. 

- Omnitrix can’t come off, never has at any point since it first latched onto Ben’s arm. Azmuth tried and failed to get the device off, doesn’t let Ben know for many years as he feared the consequences. The watch loves and protects Ben even beyond it’s programming making him much more durable to damage and releasing energy charges when he’s threatened. Not even removing Ben’s arm would separate them. They’re stuck for life.

- Ben does have Anodite heritage but the Omnitrix actively suppresses it and uses the built up energy to power the transformations which is why ben is mostly unaffected by what should cause a massive energy drain on him. Theoretically if Ben learned to harness and safely use his Mana at an early age like Gwen he would have been fine but letting it build up without safe outlet meant activation would have killed him. Omnitrix Ben, however, went his whole life not knowing of his latent abilities and how the watch saved his life.

- Ben’s eyes get more green and glowy as time passes from the Omnitrix. At first they think its a trick of the light but by the time he’s an adult his eyes are pretty much glow in the dark. His veins light up too after long stretches of using the Omnitrix. Its vaguely unsettling to people who aren’t used to Ben.

- Max and the Earth Plumbers work so, so hard to keep teen Ben on Earth when half the universe is blowing up their comm lines asking for The Ben 10 to help with whatever problem of the day. Ben himself doesn’t quite understand when he’s younger the prestige and expectations on his shoulders. Max throws up a million and one roadblocks so Ben can live as normal a life as possible while he still can. Still, while doing that he Still overloads Ben with expectations and responsibilities on earth and beyond. He becomes a soldier again with Ben as their greatest weapon. He never forgave himself of losing sight of his grandson underneath the hero esp after Ben’s breakdown. 

- Rook partnership with Ben ends not long after Omniverse with his promotion to Magister. Ben tries to play it cool but the thought of another loved one/teammate leaving his tears him apart. Max revealing that Ben most likely wouldn’t get a new Plumber assigned partner since he’s almost an adult and won’t need it and Rook accidentally missing their last smoothie run due to a scheduling mishap causes Ben to snap and have the nervous breakdown that had been building for almost a decade. He completely loses it for a little while and needs to take an extended leave of absence from school and heroics that lasts about a year. Spends time recovering both on Earth and Galvan Prime, does some diplomatic training, learns about aliens, actually confronts the stress and loneliness of his life. He comes out the other side stronger but still fragile and exhausted.

- Ben’s above mentioned breakdown brings him closer to all his friends who didn’t quite realize the extent of Ben’s burden. Rook had been under the impression Ben didn’t like him all that much so the knowledge that his departure was the final straw for friend/hero’s collapse was shocking. Ben and Azmuth also become closer, the Galvan becoming fiercely protective of the boy seeing as his Earth family didn’t do well to keep him safe. It takes years for him to get over his anger at Max for putting so much on his grandchild. Ben makes more friends, in and out of the hero business, finally gets a therapist and gets some of his burdens eased a bit. It’s not a sure fire fix and Ben has several smaller breakdowns the rest of his life but its something.

- Azmuth was straight up suicidal before he met Ben for the first time. Ben gave him back hope for the universe and his ability to create items for peace not weapons. The boy infuriates him, frightens him, frustrates him but Azmuth cannot deny in his heart of hearts that he loves Ben dearly. He’s very upset at Ben’s breakdown and doesn’t know how to handle the worst of the initail outbursts. Azmuth talks Ben down from a suicide attempt. He reaches out to Ben that he Too felt overwhelmed by pressure, thought himself only good for war. Ben’s arrival in his life saved him and now he will do the same for Ben. It’s the first positive step forward in Ben’s recovery.

- For no other reason than I like it, Azmuth primarily refers to Ben as Benjamin (mostly to annoy the kid but he likes the way it sounds too) and Ben in softer, more serious moments. 

- Professor Paradox continues to flit in and out of Ben’s life. He says its because Ben is the most equipped to handle universal peril (true) but he’s also just very fond of the boy. Ben, existing in so many forms and having such importance also exists a beat outside of normal reality which Paradox identifies with. Ben is naturally attuned to time related problems because of this (instantly IDing Spanner as from the future before being told later deducing him to be his unborn son). Plus Ben named him, way back when. He’s just drawn to Ben.

- Adult Ben, while being seen as an impressively skilled fighter and champion, really has his strength as a universal diplomat of sorts. Based out of Earth, he helps mediate and defuse conflicts, advocate against tyranny and overall preserve peace and balance. He’s not perfect, he makes mistakes and sometimes is forced to become violent (and yes kill) but overall is regarded as a peacekeeper, something younger ben simply couldn’t understand. 

- Gwen gets her degree and primarily does work with advocacy and teaching about magic/alien culture. While she and Ben are still close, there’s a bit of a frustrated divide in that she isn’t helping him share the burden of the universe. Gwen never wanted to be a hero and has enough worth to not shackle herself to a job that’ll burn her out. Ben loves heroing but gives too much of himself away trying to fix everything. They get into screaming arguments that it wouldn’t be so bad out there if she just helped him but she refuses to budge and says he shouldn’t make himself do so much. They always make up and thy still are each other’s closest relationships.

- Ben marries Kai in a political move, Kai is Asexual and Ben Aromantic. They didn’t love each other but they got on well enough and Ben was really feeling the stress of carrying the hero burden so Kai also being involved made him feel like he wasn’t alone. Both were also so tired of the universe constantly asking about their love life and said ‘fuck it we’re married leave us alone’. Gwen was always mad about it feeling Ben deserved better but the two of them were happy with it. They had separate rooms, mostly separate lives but they became strong friends and supports with their strictly platonic marriage. They had Ken via Invitro in an incubator and were loving if extremely busy parents. 

- Also from the moment he appeared, Ben knew that Spanner was his future son, Kenny. He played ignorant and then was kind of deliberately teasing him in future encounters. He knew the rules of time and didn’t want to disrupt things further even if he was angry and worried as heck about why Ken felt the need to time travel. When future Ben catches up in the timeline, Kenny gets SUCH a lecture. 

- Ben isn’t quite immortal but he’s also not entirely human anymore either. The Omnitrix not only keeps him safe from most harm but it lightens the effect of aging. Ben 10 is active many, many years when most humans would have been forced to retire. He’s not sure how long the watch will keep him alive and it terrifies him. Gwen too is functionally immortal however she ages like a normal human, then when her natural death came, shed her skin and became a fulltime Anodite. So in the end, it was her and Ben together wondering which of them will die first. Gwen has trouble retaining her humanity as pure energy and swears she’ll let herself fizzle out when Ben goes. When that’ll be however...

[froldgapp]

I'm not sure if you're still doing the Director's Cut, but I would love to hear any/everything about Transmission Impossible or Grounded (or both!) Those two fics knock my breath completely out of me every time I read them and they have my whole heart in their hands. Or any fic that you've been hoping someone will ask you about would be great too! Your writing style is gorgeous, and anything you want to share about it would be so appreciated!

Could this possibly be the latest reply to an ask ever? I am so sorry! I fell down a sort of hole 2019-ish and this is me sluggishly climbing out and blinking at the sun. Anyway, on the 0.0001% you or anyone else is interested:

Transmission Impossible:

‘A galra cannot live a natural life alone, Paladin.’ His eyes narrow ,and gently, he reaches forward with a massive hand to cup Keith’s face. Unthinking, Keith leans into the touch with a sharp inhale. Kolivan eases down the skin beneath Keith’s right eye and hmms deeply at what he sees there.

As far as I recall, I wrote this around the time there was a strong suggestion in VLD that Keith might have some kind of quintessence sensitivity. I wanted to explore how prolonged loneliness and a separation from his "tribe" might work on him with those abilities in mind. And, of course, as we see in the story, what the physiological impact of that would be on Keith.

Loneliness is the key thread to the story. Already by then, I perceived Keith as a deeply lonely person who was very connected in one way but so very unconnected in another. The tension between the two does a number on him and as the strange occurrences intensify, the question of his mental stability does too (for him).

But I wanted the story to be hopeful in the end and invert Keith's losses into the very real strength that allows him to locate Shiro (in the flashback). Finally, as someone from a working class background myself, it was really important for me to show Keith's struggles financially.

Grounded

The gag runs with blood as incisors come loose and are replaced with short fangs. One of them dislodges itself and is replaced moments later by a second fang. The rest of his teeth come in slowly, still flat and square like a human's. She is thankful. Thick lines of blood run from each nostril. A few wet cracks draw eyes to his hands again, which seem longer and larger at the wrist now. Galra hands.

Like many, I was disappointed the show didn't deliver on that apparent galra!keith x quintessence foreshadowing when his hand is splashed with the stuff. So I knew I wanted to do something in this direction but I didn't want it to be pure indulgence; I knew it had to have emotional ballast. So I countered the galra transformation with Krolia's experience of Keith as a little one when she's still on Earth.

‘Why, mama?’ he asked, voice muffled by her affection. 'Why are you sad?'

‘Because you are so beautiful.’

That way I could also explore Krolia's feelings about having a son caught up in this huge, universe-spanning war.

She shakes her head like a guilty, clueless child. She can’t speak, just presses herself closer to her boy. He bites past the gag and into her wrist. She screams for both of them.

So foolish, to think him safe in this filthy universe.

Like Transmission Impossible, I didn't want the story to be without hope (or comfort, let's say). I also wanted to counter the shame Keith felt after the Marmora trials/some of the prejudice that was on display from the others. I think one of the most admirable things about Keith is that he's not proud. He's actually very pragmatic (apart from when it comes to Shiro maybe). So, rather than freak out, Keith rather feels somehow settled and, most importantly, connected.

‘I look just like you,’ he repeats. Through his tears, he is smiling.

This was such a great ask. So fun to remember where my head was at back then!

[sk1fanfiction]

the many faces of tom riddle, part 4

-attachment, orphanages, and yet more child psych: time to add yet another voice to the void-

FULL DISCLAIMER THAT THIS IS JUST MY OPINION OF A CHARACTER WHO DOESN’T HAVE THE STRONGEST CANON CHARACTERIZATION, AND THUS ALL THIS IS BASED ON MY CONCEPTUALIZATION.

I'm going to be super biased, because my favorite portrayal of Tom Riddle is actually Hero Fiennes-Tiffin as eleven-year-old Tom Riddle, in HBP and I get to chat about child psych in this one, sooo here we go.

First of all, I’m just so impressed that a kid could bring that much depth to such a complex character.

This is the portrayal, I feel, that brings us closest to Tom’s character. Yes, Coulson’s brought us pretty close, but by fifth year, the mask was on.

We don't really get to see Tom looking afraid very often, but it's fear that rules his life, so it's really poignant in our first (chronologically) introduction, he looks absolutely terrified.

The void being the fandom's loud opinions on a certain headmaster. I wouldn't call myself pro-Dumbledore, but I'm certainly not anti-Dumbledore, either. (Agnostic-Dumbledore??)

Since I'm not of the anti-Dumbledore persuasion, I decided to poke around in the tags and see what the arguments were, so I don't make comments out of ignorance.

Most of the tag seems to be more directed towards his treatment of Harry and Sirius, but a few people mentioned that Dumbledore should have treated Tom with ‘exceptional kindness’ and tried to ‘rehabilitate’ him.

As I said in Parts 2 and 3, I am 100% in favor of helping a traumatized kid learn to cope, and I don’t think Tom Riddle was solidly on the Path to Evil (TM) at birth, or even at eleven. Not even at fifteen.

Could unconditional love and kindness have helped Tom Riddle enough for the rise of Lord Voldemort to never happen? Possibly, but...

Yes, I'm about to drag up that Carl Jung quote, again.

“I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become.”

The problem with this is that if you’re going to blame Dumbledore for this, you also have to blame every other adult in Tom’s life: his headmaster, Dippet, his Head of House, Slughorn, his ‘caretakers’ at the orphanage, Mrs. Cole and Martha, and possibly more. In fact, if we're going to blame any adult, let's blame Merope for r*ping and abusing Tom Riddle Senior, and having a kid she wasn't intending to take care of.

Furthermore, you cannot possibly hold anyone but Tom accountable for the murders he committed. (I should not have to sit here and explain why cold-blooded murder is wrong.) And if you like Tom Riddle's character, insinuating that his actions are completely at the whim of others is just a bit condescending towards him. He's not an automaton or a marionette, he's a very intelligent human being with a functioning brain, and at sixteen is fully capable of moral reasoning and critical analysis.

I've heard the theories about Dumbledore setting the Potters up to die, and I'm not going to discuss their validity right now; but he didn't put a wand in Tom's hand and force him to kill anyone. Tom did it all of his own accord.

And while yes, I have enormous sympathy for what happened to Tom as a child, at some point, he decided to murder Myrtle Warren, and that is where I lose my sympathy. Experiencing trauma does not give you the right to inflict harm on others. Yes, Tom was failed, but then, he spectacularly failed himself.

We also have no idea how Dumbledore treated Tom as a student.

In the movies, it’s Dumbledore who tells Tom he has to go back to the orphanage, but in the books, it’s Dippet. We know that Slughorn spent a lot of time around Tom at Slug Club and such, yet I don’t really see people clamoring for his head.

I regard the sentiment that Dumbledore turned Tom Riddle into Lord Voldemort with a lot of skepticism.

But let's hear from the character himself -- his impression of eleven-year-old Tom Riddle.

“Did I know that I had just met the most dangerous Dark wizard of all time?” said Dumbledore. “No, I had no idea that he was to grow up to be what he is. However, I was certainly intrigued by him. I returned to Hogwarts intending to keep an eye upon him, something I should have done in any case, given that he was alone and friendless, but which, already, I felt I ought to do for others’ sake as much as his."

Now, assuming that Dumbledore's telling the truth, I'm not seeing something glaringly wrong with this. No, he hasn't pigeonholed Tom as evil, yes, I'd be intrigued, too, and it's a very good idea to keep an eye on Tom, for his own sake.

“At Hogwarts,” Dumbledore went on, “we teach you not only to use magic, but to control it. You have — inadvertently, I am sure — been using your powers in a way that is neither taught nor tolerated at our school."

Again, it seems like he's at least somewhat sympathetic towards Tom, and is willing to at least give him a chance.

More evidence (again, assuming Dumbledore is a reliable narrator):

Harry: “Didn’t you tell them [the other professors], sir, what he’d been like when you met him at the orphanage?” Dumbledore: “No, I did not. Though he had shown no hint of remorse, it was possible that he felt sorry for how he had behaved before and was resolved to turn over a fresh leaf. I chose to give him that chance.”

Now, I think Dumbledore is pretty awful with kids, but I don't think that's malicious. Yeah, it's a flaw, but perfect people don't exist, and perfect characters are dead boring. I am not saying that he definitely handled Tom's case well, I'm just saying that there's little evidence that Dumbledore, however shaken and scandalized, wrote him off as 'evil snake boy.'

It's also worth taking into account that it's 1938, and the attitudes towards mental health back then.

Why is Tom looking at Dumbledore like that, anyway? Why is he so scared? What has he possibly been threatened with or heard whispers of?

"'Professor'?" repeated Riddle. He looked wary. "Is that like 'doctor'? What are you here for? Did she get you in to have a look at me?"

"I don't believe you," said Riddle. "She wants me looked at, doesn't she? Tell the truth!"

"You can't kid me! The asylum, that's where you're from, isn't it? 'Professor,' yes, of course -- well, I'm not going, see? That old cat's the one who should be in the asylum. I never did anything to little Amy Benson or Dennis Bishop, and you can ask them, they'll tell you!

Tom keeps insisting he's not mad until Dumbledore finally manages to calm him down.

I'm really upset this wasn't in the movie, because it's important context. Instead we got these throwaway cutscenes of some knick-knacks relating to the Cave he's got lying around, but I just would have preferred to see him freaking out like he does in the book.

There was extreme stigma and prejudice towards mental illness.

'Lunatic asylums,' as they were called in Tom's time, were terrible places. In the 1930s and 40s, he could look forward to being 'treated' with induced convulsions, via metrazol, insulin, electroshock, and malaria injections. And if he stuck around long enough, he could even look forward to a lobotomy!

So, if you think Dumbledore was judgmental towards Tom, imagine how flat-out prejudiced whatever doctors or 'experts' Mrs. Cole might have gotten in to 'look at him' must have been!

Moving on to the next few shots, he is sitting down and hunched over as if expecting punishment or at least some kind of bad news, Dumbledore is mostly out of the frame. He’s trapped visually, by Dumbledore on one side, and a wall on the other, because he’s still very much afraid. uncomfortable, as he tells Dumbledore a secret that he fears could get him committed to an asylum (which were fucking horrible places, as I said).

It brings to the scene that miserable sense of isolation and loneliness to that has defined Tom’s entire life up to that point (and, partially due to his own bad choices, continues to define it).

And, when Dumbledore accepts it, his posture changes. he becomes more confident and more at ease, as he describes the... utilities of his magical abilities. 

"All sorts," breathed Riddle. A flush of excitement was rising up his neck into his hollow cheeks; he looked fevered. "I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to."

Riddle lifted his head. His face was transfigured: There was a wild happiness upon it, yet for some reason it did not make him better looking; on the contrary, his finely carved features seemed somehow rougher, his expression almost bestial.

I do think Harry, our narrator, is being a tad bit judgmental here. Magic is probably the only thing that brings Tom happiness in his grey, lonely world, and when I was Tom's age and being bullied, if I had magic powers, you'd better believe that I'd (a) be bloody ecstatic about it (b) use them. And, like Tom, I can't honestly say that I can't imagine getting a bit carried-away with it. Unfortunately, we can't all be as inherently good and kindhearted as Harry.

Reading HBP again, as a 'mature' person, it almost seems like the reader is being prompted to see Tom as evil just because he's got 'weird' facial expressions.

So... uh...

Nope, let's judge Tom on his actions, not looks of 'wild happiness.'

To his great surprise, however, Dumbledore drew his wand from an inside pocket of his suit jacket, pointed it at the shabby wardrobe in the corner, and gave the wand a casual flick. The wardrobe burst into flames. Riddle jumped to his feet; Harry could hardly blame him for howling in shock and rage; all his worldly possessions must be in there. But even as Riddle rounded on Dumbledore, the flames vanished, leaving the wardrobe completely undamaged.

Okay, one thing I dislike is Tom's lack of emotional affect when Dumbledore burned the wardrobe, in the books, he jumped up and started screaming, instead of looking passively (in shock, perhaps?) at the fire. Incidentally, I can't really tell if he's impressed or in shock, to be honest. I think they really tried to make Tom 'creepier' in the movie.

This is one of the incidents where Dumbledore's inability to deal with children crops up.

I think he was trying to teach Tom that magic can be dangerous, and he wouldn't like it to be used against him, but burning the wardrobe that contains everything he owns was a terrible move on Dumbledore's part. Tom already has very limited trust in other people, and now, he's not going to trust Dumbledore at all -- now, he's put Tom on the defensive/offensive for the rest of their interaction, and perhaps for the rest of their teacher-student relationship.

Riddle stared from the wardrobe to Dumbledore; then, his expression greedy, he pointed at the wand. "Where can I get one of them?"

"Where do you buy spellbooks?" interrupted Riddle, who had taken the heavy money bag without thanking Dumbledore, and was now examining a fat gold Galleon.

But I'm not surprised Tom is 'greedy.' He's grown up in an environment where if he wants something, whether that's affection, food, money, toys, he's got to take it. There's no one looking after his needs specifically. I'm not surprised that he's a thief and a hoarder, and I don't think that counts as a moral failing necessarily, and more of a maladaptive way of seeking comfort. It would be bizarre if he came out of Wool's Orphanage a complete saint.

Additionally, I think given that the Gaunt family has a history of 'mental instability,' Tom is a sensitive child, and the trauma of growing up institutionalized and possibly being treated badly due to his magical abilities or personality disorder deeply affected him.

And there are points where it seems that Dumbledore is quick to judge Tom.

"He was already using magic against other people, to frighten, to punish, to control."

"Yes, indeed; a rare ability, and one supposedly connected with the Dark Arts, although as we know, there are Parselmouths among the great and the good too. In fact, his ability to speak to serpents did not make me nearly as uneasy as his obvious instincts for cruelty, secrecy, and domination."

"I trust that you also noticed that Tom Riddle was already highly self-sufficient, secretive, and, apparently, friendless?..."

And while this is all empirically true, these are (a) a product of Tom's harsh environment, and (b) do not necessarily make him evil. But the point remains that child psych didn't exist as a field of its own, and psychology as a proper science was in its infancy, so I'd be shocked if Dumbledore was insightful about Tom's situation.

But I've gone a ton of paragraphs without citing anything, so I've got to rectify that.

Let's talk about Harry Harlow's monkey experiments in the 1950-70s.

If you're not a fan of animal research, since I know some people are uncomfortable with it, feel free to scroll past.

Here's the TL;DR: Children need to be hugged and shown affection too, not just fed and clothed, please don't leave babies to 'cry out' and ignore their needs because it's backwards and fucking inhumane. HUG AND COMFORT AND CODDLE CHILDREN AND SPOIL THEM WITH AFFECTION!

I will put more red writing when the section is over.

This is still an interesting experiment to have in mind while we explore the whole 'no one taught Tom Riddle how to love' thing and whether or not it's actually a good argument.

Andddd let's go all the way back to the initial 1958 experiment, featured in Harlow's paper, the Nature of Love. (If you're familiar with Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, him and Harlow actually collaborated for a time).

To give you an idea of our starting point, until Harlow's experiment, which happened twenty years after Dumbledore meets Tom for the first time, no one in science had really been interested in studying love and affection.

"Psychologists, at least psychologists who write textbooks, not only show no interest in the origin and development of love or affection, but they seem to be unaware of its very existence."

I'm going to link some videos of Harry Harlow showing the actual experiment, which animal rights activists would probably consider 'horrifying.' It's nothing gory or anything, but if you are particularly soft-hearted (and I do not mean that as an insult), be warned. It's mostly just baby monkeys being very upset and Harlow discussing it in a callous manner. Yes, today it would be considered unethical, but it's still incredibly important work and if you think you can handle it, I would recommend watching at least the first one to get an idea of how dramatic this effect is.

Dependency when frightened

The full experiment

The TL;DW:

This experiment was conducted with rhesus macaques; they're still used in psychology/neuroscience research when you want very human-like subjects, because they are very intelligent (unnervingly so, actually). I'd say that adult ones remind me of a three-year old child.

Harlow separated newborn monkeys from their mothers, and cared for their physical needs. They had ample nutrition, bedding, warmth, et cetera. However, the researchers noticed that the monkeys:

(a) were absolutely miserable. And not just that, but although all their physical needs were taken care of, they weren't surviving well past the first few days of life. (This has also been documented in human babies, and it's called failure to thrive and I'll talk about it a bit later).

(b) showed a strong attachment to the gauze pads used to cover the floor, and decided to investigate.

So, they decided to provide a surrogate 'mother.' Two, actually. Mother #1 was basically a heated fuzzy doll that was nice for the monkeys to cuddle with. Mother #2 was the same, but not fuzzy and made of wire. Both provided milk. The result? The monkeys spent all their time cuddling and feeding from the fuzzy 'mother.' Perhaps not surprising.

What Harlow decided next, is that one of the hallmarks being attached to your caregiver is seeking hugs and reassurance from them when frightened. So, when the monkeys were presented with something scary, they'd go straight to the cloth mother and ignore the wire one. Not only that, but when placed in an unfamiliar environment, if the cloth mother was present, the monkeys would be much calmer.

In a follow-up experiment, Harlow decided to see if there was some sort of sensitive period by introducing both 'mothers' to monkeys who had been raised in isolation for 250 days. Guess what?

The initial reaction of the monkeys to the alterations was one of extreme disturbance. All the infants screamed violently and made repeated attempts to escape the cage whenever the door was opened. They kept a maximum distance from the mother surrogates and exhibited a considerable amount of rocking and crouching behavior, indicative of emotionality.

Yikes. So, at first Harlow thought that they'd passed some kind of sensitive period for socialization. But after a day or two they calmed down and started chilling out with the cloth mother like the other monkeys did. But here's a weird thing:

That the control monkeys develop affection or love for the cloth mother when she is introduced into the cage at 250 days of age cannot be questioned. There is every reason to believe, however, that this interval of delay depresses the intensity of the affectional response below that of the infant monkeys that were surrogate-mothered from birth onward

All these things... attachment, affection, love, seeking comfort ... are mostly learned behaviours.

Over.

Orphanages, institutionalized childcare, and why affection is a need, not an extra.

His face is lit the exact same was as Coulson’s was in COS (half-light, half-dark), and I said I was going to talk about this in Part 3. I think perhaps it's intended to make Fiennes-Tiffin look more evil or menacing, but I'm going to quite deliberately misinterpret it.

Now, for some context, Dumbledore has just (kind of) burned his wardrobe, ratted out his stealing habit, and (in the books only, they really took a pair of scissors to this scene) told him he needs to go apologize and return everything and Dumbledore will know if he doesn't, and, well, Tom's not exactly a happy bugger about it.

But interestingly, in the books, this is when we start to see Tom's 'persona,' aka his mask, start to come into play. Whereas before, he was screaming, howling, and generally freaking out, here, he starts to hide his emotions -- in essence, obscure his true self under a shadow. So this scene is really the reverse of Coulson's in COS.

And perhaps I'm reading wayyy too much into this, but I can't help but notice that Coulson's hair is parted opposite to Fiennes-Tiffin's, and the opposite sides of their faces are shadowed, too.

Riddle threw Dumbledore a long, clear, calculating look. "Yes, I suppose so, sir," he said finally, in an expressionless voice.

Riddle did not look remotely abashed; he was still staring coldly and appraisingly at Dumbledore. At last he said in a colorless voice, "Yes, sir."

Here's an article from The Atlantic on Romanian orphanages in the 1980s, when the dictator, Ceausescu, basically forced people to have as many children as possible and funnel them into institutionalized 'childcare', and it's absolutely heartbreaking.

There's not a whole lot of information out there on British orphanages in the 30s' and 40s', but given that people back then thought you just had to keep children on a strict schedule and feed them, it wouldn't have a whole lot better.

The only thing I've found is this, and it's not super promising.

The most important study informing the criteria for contemporary nosologies, was a study by Barbara Tizard and her colleagues of young children being raised in residential nurseries in London (Tizard, 1977). These nurseries had lower child to caregiver ratios than many previous studies of institutionalized children. Also, the children were raised in mixed aged groups and had adequate books and toys available. Nevertheless, caregivers were explicitly discouraged from forming attachments to the children in their care.

Here's a fairly recent paper that I think gives a good summary: Link

Here, they describe the responses to the Strange Situation test (which tests a child's attachment to their caregiver).

We found that 100% of the community sample received a score of “5,” indicating fully formed attachments, whereas only 3% of the infants living in institutions demonstrated fully formed attachments. The remaining 97% showed absent, incomplete, or odd and abnormal attachment behaviors.

Bowlby and Ainsworth, who did the initial study, thought that children would always attach to their caregivers, regardless of neglect or abuse. But some infants don't attach (discussed along with RAD in Part 2).

Here's a really good review paper on attachment disorders in currently or formerly institutionalized children : Link

Core features of RAD in young children include the absence of focused attachment behaviors directed towards a preferred caregiver, failure to seek and respond to comforting when distressed, reduced social and emotional reciprocity, and disturbances of emotion regulation, including reduced positive affect and unexplained fearfulness or irritability.

Which all sounds a lot like Tom in this scene. The paper also discusses neurological effects, like atypical EEG power distribution (aka brain waves), which can correlate with 'indiscriminate' behavior and poor inhibitory control; which makes sense for a kid who, oh, I don't know, hung another kid's rabbit because they were angry.

Furthermore...

...those children with more prolonged institutional rearing showed reduced amygdala discrimination and more indiscriminate behavior.

This again, makes a ton of sense for Tom's psychological profile, because the amygdala (which is part of the limbic system, which regulates emotions) plays a major role in fear, anger, anxiety, and aggression, especially with respect to learning, motivation and memory.

So, I agree completely that Tom needed a lot of help, especially given the fact that he spent eleven years in an orphanage (longer than the Bucharest study I was referring to), and Dumbledore wasn't exactly understanding of his situation, and probably didn't realise what a dramatic effect the orphanage had on Tom, and given the way he talks to Tom, probably treated him as if he were a kid who grew up in a healthy environment.

In case you are still unconvinced that hugging is that important, there's a famous 1944 study conducted on 40 newborn human infants to see what would happen if their physical needs (fed, bathed, diapers changed) were provided for with no affection. The study had to be stopped because half the babies died after four months. Affection leads to the production of hormones and boosts the immune system, which increases survival, and that is why we hug children and babies should not be in orphanages. They are supposed to be hugged, all the time. I can't find the citation right now, I'll add it later if I find it.

But I think it's vastly unrealistic to say that Dumbledore, who grew up during the Victorian Era, would have any grasp of this and I don't think he was actively malicious towards Tom.

Was Tom Riddle failed by institutional childcare? Absolutely.

Were the adults in his life oblivious to his situation? Probably.

Do the shitty things that happened to Tom excuse the murders he committed, and are they anyone's fault but his own? No. At the end of the day, Tom made all the wrong choices.

And, for what it's worth, I think (film) Dumbledore (although he expresses the same sentiment in more words in the books) wishes he could go back in time and have helped Tom.

"Draco. Years ago, I knew a boy, who made all the wrong choices. Please, let me help you."

[blufox234isadumbname]

Las Nevadas and Poker Cards theory

/rp /dsmp (all of the mentioned people are characters of the Dream SMP. not the actual content creators)

---

So this began with a random thought floating in my head about the new characters introduced to the Las Nevadas lore in Episode 3. This sparked the reawakening of my obsession with cartomancy and the meanings behind playing cards. So subsequently, I decided to associate the new four characters to the four symbols of the playing card deck

For a brief intro to playing cards, the standard 52-card deck uses the French suit - which include the diamonds, hearts, clubs and spades. Each suit/symbol includes three face cards (King, Queen and Knave) and ten numbered cards (Ace of ... to Ten of ...) The suit of cards varied throughout history before the French suit became popularised. Most of the derived meanings of the card suits themselves have mostly been very much after the creation of the suits, but I still think their symbolism is still interesting to look back into. The changes to each suit along with each varying meaning will be highlighted in individual sections. So, let’s start with:

Foolish

For the first chapter, Quackity mocks Foolish of being inferior to the tempered god he used to be. Foolish in his current state is a pacifist, a normally non-violent character who doesn’t take the offence. To Quackity, that achieves nothing, backed up by how Foolish was killed off in a selfless act and could not fight back. Quackity mocks the temple Foolish built, saying it is merely an empty shell only made to look pretty. Like Foolish, it is only impressive on the outset, but when it comes to its use it does not serve a function. The magnificent temple is merely for show, like how Foolish appears as a god of undying yet still was able to lose a life. Quackity actively tries to paint a picture of that perception to Foolish, trying to convince Foolish that such a lifestyle has not been beneficial. What Quackity offers to Foolish is a chance to make a name for himself, by doing the opposite. Quackity wants Foolish to cause destruction instead of creation. He wants Foolish to be a cannon, to take the brunt of

Clubs in the French suit have been thought to represent peasants. They are the weaker members of the society, the ones without a legacy to leave behind unlike those higher above them. This is what Quackity view Foolish as, a mere peasant who does not leave his own mark even despite being a god. When it comes to tarot readings, the clubs are seen as the wands. This particular suit tends to refer to calls to action, associated with the element of fire. They represent both aspects of creation to build and cook, and of destruction. It is symbolic of passion, where one’s motivations lie within. Meanings behind the wands deal with one’s own consciousness, what one’s own ambitions, what makes a person create action. It’s also interesting to see that Foolish in the past, brought destruction to a town with lava. So with this suit, Foolish is seen to need to take more offensive action. He needs to take the chance with Las Nevadas to create that action, to create destruction as he did before. To become more than the lowly being he is now.

Charlie

This one is trickier to pinpoint what suit he is since this is the first and currently only time we’ve seen him in the lore. In the time he was introduced, we can still deduce something about his story in the Las Nevadas arc. For instance, his role in Las Nevadas is being a mole for Quackity. Like a more goopy Hercules Mulligan, he can acquire intel and slink out with ease. He is a shapeshifter technically, able to mimic anything. The only seen problem he has is his unawareness of the world around him, basically akin to a child experiencing the world for the first time.

So I associate Charlie with the Spades, the commonly associated symbol for nobility. To Quackity, Charlie is not someone too hard to influence while at the same time may seem to have influence with the knowledge he holds. In past iterations of the spade, it was a sword. Even in Italian, the swords suit was referred to as a spade before it became the symbol. Charlie is the secret weapon with the intel he holds. Charlie is the most important to Quackity, the one who holds the most value above all the other candidates. Unlike the others, Quackity doesn’t berate or deliberately ruin what Charlie has, mostly because he has nothing to begin with. Instead, he is praised and gifted a home, like how nobility, when they are born, are simply gifted their titles. As the swords suit in tarot, spades represents aspects of thinking and communication. From his spy job, Charlie might open his eyes to a complicated world in a childlike manner. He’ll learn slowly but surely, whilst slowly having his perceptions being altered by Quackity. He already has shown doing this by lying to Charlie about snow. It is Q’s goal to coerce the easily swayable Charlie to blindly follow him akin to a child following a parent

Purpled

A mercenary after wealth, Purpled is being offered to join Las Nevadas in exchange for money. It is shown he is competent at sticking to what he believes in, but he does still follow the money mostly. However, Purpled is after more than just simple jobs to accrue wealth, which is what Quackity baits him with. He blows up the only thing that gave Purpled a name in the Dream SMP and offers him much more than the original incentive from the Red Banquet job. With the UFO gone, Purpled is given a choice to go big or go home, the final decision still unknown by the end of Purpled’s chapter. It’s interesting to see Quackity’s approach with Purpled, he’s much more confrontational with him than the others. Where Foolish was just insulted and Charlie merely being strung along, here Q deliberately makes a statement with TNT and a weapon. This might have to do with how Purpled is to be hired as a mercenary again, the man to depend on to take out a target. The only difference is the massive gain and utmost loyalty to Las Nevadas

Purpled is the suits of Diamonds. This suit has been thought to be associated with the merchants, the ones who gain most from sales of goods and services. To Quackity, he just has to convince Purpled with money beyond his wildest dreams. It’s quite important to note that Diamonds used to be bells in German suits, more specifically hawk-bells. These bells were used for falconry in medieval Europe, to denote a bird’s location and status. This is like what Quackity wants to do with Purpled, to keep the hunter under his guidance and not have his loyalties lie elsewhere. Diamonds in the tarot is seen as the suit of pentacles, concerning everything material and worldly. Pentacles often do not just concern financial matters but anything of security and practicality. It is all about what is realistic, for Purpled that is what he can own. Quackity knows that, he knows to bait the mercenary with money and to gamble with it.

Fundy

This one is a fun one to cover since this chapter is solely from Fundy’s point of view. Not once does it shift to Quackity and what he sees. Only Fundy and his nightmare. In the dream, Fundy wakes up in the middle of a red desert. It’s been said before, but being in a desert represents loneliness and disconnect. He is isolated and alone at first, except for Quackity. When he brought to the memories of L’manburg and its iterations, he views it all in awe. This contrasts with how he reacted before to the caravan, with anger and panic. In the dream with Quackity, he happily remembers the times of the past with Quackity, even if they were the most tragic times of L’Manburg’s history. The most notable thing about Quackity in the dream is the fact that he constantly makes Fundy feel noticed, make Fundy feel known and present. Fundy is not invalidated for his involvement in L’Manburg’s history. For once, Fundy feels happy. So when it twists around in Eret’s tower, a reminder of countless wars, the scene shifts to have Quackity in control. Fundy is told he does not matter all over again, told he will be as forgotten as L’Manburg’s history.

Fundy is the suit of Hearts, the suit associated with the clergy. This refers to someone with religious duties or more generally concerning what a person holds within their heart. This person is only important due to the group they associate with, similar to Quackity saying Fundy does nto matter until eh chooses to join with him. Besides just solely the card suits, the Heart tends to represent feelings and relationships. The latter part is an integral part of Fundy’s story, how his relationships with others always tend to fall apart. Feelings are important to Fundy too since he’s only attached to many things because of those feelings. He almost gains nothing but emotional support. And really, that’s is just always been something Fundy has been after – someone to depend on. And so, Fundy is swayed by the promise of a stable relationship with others, something that his dream pre-empted to be used by Quackity. Hearts in the tarot is seen as the Cups or Chalice, which represents everything of emotions as well. More interestingly, the suit of Cups deals with the unconscious too, even dreams. Pretty matching.

 So what does it exactly mean for these connections with the poker cards? Well, to use the cards is to play the game of gambling, the game of poker. And that is what Quackity sees these people as, tools to use to win the game. He’s collecting these cards to gain a winning hand. It’s also evident that he’s pushing these cards to gamble as well. He cuts off all attachments they have and force their hand to take a risk. Foolish has to risk being destructive again. Charlie risks confiding with an untrustworthy friend. Purpled risks losing actual money. Fundy risks losing mental stability all over again. It’s all about taking a risk, something that Quackity is taking advantage of to win. The perception of the cards all come down to how Quackity sees what to string all of these people along to join his cause. In the end, Quackity only cares about what benefit it will bring to Las Nevadas, instead of giving sure promises of such high rewards for tagging along. With the parallels between how Quackity views the members to how Dream views others, it’s fun to see how Quackity sees more and more of this project as a game of chance he’s willing to take. So how will the game play out for all these cards? Only fates can tell.

[regrettablewritings]

There’s a lot of things I could say about The Book of Boba Fett -- mostly critical things because of how they wound up handling it. Suffice to say, Temuera Morrison and Ming Na Wen did not deserve what they got, and fans and potential fans did not deserve to be fooled the way they were.

But here we are at what is currently presumed to be the end of the limited series, and the only things to show for it are plot threads that didn’t even belong to Boba’s storyline to begin with!

I don’t feel comfortable doing an all-out rewrite; as a non-Māori/Polynesian/indigenous person of color, I feel there are just certain things I shouldn’t cross. Tem’s use of the Tuskens to bring his culture to the screen was important to members of those groups, and I personally feel that they were the most robbed in this show after it got their hopes up, only to have them quickly slashed in the very next episode.

But I still want to at least vent and get my thoughts out. Express some of the things I wish they’d focused on or could’ve potentially benefited from.

More time spent with the Tuskens. Yes, we knew that they and Boba were going to have to part ways eventually. But there was no reason it had to be like that, let alone in the very next episode after they accepted Boba as one of their own. These people taught Boba how to fight, how there was no nobility in loneliness -- give them more dignity than that! And if they have to part, why not make it so that they just had to relocate? The Pykes are clearly backstabbers, so wouldn’t it make sense that they go back on their word and try to attack the Tuskens again? When it gets too close of a call where they nearly take down the Chieftain or even the Warrior, they begrudgingly decide that they have to keep their numbers safe and leave. Boba, of course, thinks they shouldn’t and have a right to stay on their land but ultimately accepts that there aren’t as many of them left anymore: They have to preserve whomever’s left. Which leads me to the next point . . .

Why did Boba become a crime lord again? No, really. I keep forgetting. And I’m the broad who could explain away with ease what the conflicts in Batman v Superman were. If I recall correctly, Boba summed it up to Fennec that he just didn’t want to work for scummy people anymore and wanted to become his own boss. Which...Okay, look: I am not familiar with the Legends canon. I honestly am not sure if I even want to be (though, hey, it sounds like they didn’t drag my boy through the filth). But personally, that type of decision just sounds closer to something a pre-Sarlacc Pit Boba would reason: It’s impulsive, kinda blasé, and frankly just sounds like he decided it on a whim because there’s not much else to do on Tatooine. Before he gave that reason, I honestly was ready to believe that he went after the position to provide protection. Like, however he and his Tusken family parted ways, he would become determined to rule over Tatooine because the best way to change the rules is to be the one who makes them. By becoming the next daimyo, he would see to it that the less powerful of the area wouldn’t suffer. I don’t know how that would sit with people (I saw waaayyyy too many people claiming that episode 2 was too white saviory, but I also saw plenty of indigenous people claiming otherwise, but it’s ultimately not my place to confirm or deny one or the other). But that’s just what made more sense to me.

Gonna take a page from Tem’s book: Boba isn’t as big a talker. He was never particularly talkative before, why should he be different now? Yes, he’s growing as a person, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s gonna chatter a bunch and become a social butterfly. It is very possible to make an interesting episode of a show with little to no dialogue, and it wouldn’t even necessarily have to be that because eventually he does begin to interact with others.

I honestly don’t know how I feel about the Pyke Syndicate being the Big Bad. If there was a second season in the bag, then I would rather Cad Bane be this season’s main antagonist. Too tired and lazy to come up with a big enough reason, but let’s just say that he’s still hired by the Pyke Syndicate. Besides, I think he’d be all too happy to antagonize Boba and put him in his place anyway.

(At the very fucking least, INTRODUCE CAD BANE TO THE SERIES EARLIER THAN WHAT THEY DID.)

I want more of a focus on community and how there isn’t any power in solitude or looking out for yourself. I think what the finale was trying to do was give this feeling of “Look at all these people willing to fight alongside Boba because he spared them and was a good person to them!” But...I dunno, it doesn’t feel earned. Or even like that. It felt more “Randos Boba picked up like strays because the plot demanded it” than “people being seen for who they are (rejects of society, someone past their prime, people left behind in a cruel world) and thus giving their loyalty willingly.” Hell, the people from Freetown were just there because of Din, and Peli was there because she was bringing Grogu back to Din. A big thing that they sort of wasted in this show was how they failed to explore that Boba learned the importance of what it’s like to not have to be alone, and how being with others helps you learn and the rippling effect of someone impacting one’s life. Boba outright says that he’s stronger because of his experiences with the Tuskens, and it’s more or less played out that his hiring of the biker gang and Krrsantan was due to a newfound understanding and empathy towards those who found themselves chewed up and spat out in the backwater world that is Tatooine. Hell, it’s his lessons and gadderfi stick that he acquired from the Tuskens that winds up saving him after Cad insists that looking out for yourself is the only way to get by in this world. It was a satisfying moment, sure, but it needed way more buildup.

Besides, how cool would it have been if the Tuskens weren’t, you know, fucking dead and could therefore join Boba in battle? His family really never did leave him, and it further drives home the point about community and not having to face things alone.

Better fight choreography. I am still bitter that most of the good fights went to Din. Because yeah, he can fight, but we all saw what Boba could do. And if you haven’t, allow me to expose you. And mind you: THIS IS BEFORE HE GOT HIS HANDS ON A BACTA TANK. He’s probably in excruciating pain, yet he’s whaling on troopers like they stole his last nickel. But we don’t really get any of that until, like, the finale, with the closest to this instance being when he takes down Cad. We KNOW Boba can fight, but the show barely let him as far as I’m concerned.

Gonna come right out and say it: Little to no Din. Even before TBOBF premiered, that was what most people were talking about. Not the titular character finally getting canonical development on screen, not the return of an Asian woman who was quickly becoming a fan favorite, but whether or not the dude with two seasons under his belt and a third on the way would show up. And show up he did, taking over two whole episodes before we realized that this show was more like a money laundering scheme where the real money was going into The Mandalorian s3. I don’t think it would’ve been bad if part of the episode had been dedicated to him: Maybe it starts off the same as how episode 5 did, but about midway Fennec finds him and gives the whole proposition. Din learns what’s going on and is hesitant to agree because (as what is supposed to be planned in the upcoming season of Mando) he wants to find Grogu -- and he can’t exactly find him if he winds up dead. (“All the more reason to make sure you fight well,” Fennec smirks.) But he mostly agrees to it because he still hasn’t yet found the remaining members of his clan, and Boba and Fennec agree to utilize their connections to make locating them easier. But this is only if Din has to be there.

For that matter, no Grogu. It’s way too soon for Grogu. I love him and I know Lucasfilms is probably like, “We spent all this money on the puppet, we’re using him every chance we get”, but we gotta consider the timeline: It probably hasn’t even been a year, let alone half of one, since the events of season 2 of The Mandalorian. Grogu leaving at the end of the second season, only to be brought back virtually instantly in the most immediate live-action SW series that isn’t (listed as) The Mandalorian really just dampened the impact of Din’s decision for me. Like, we knew they were going to be reunited. The questions were when and how. But by that, I meant maybe some episodes would focus more on Din trying to steady himself on his own again. Make what was episode 5 part of s3 and then have much of that season be cut between Grogu learning to be a Jedi and Din trying to regain his title as a Mandalorian as the Armorer proclaimed was the proper way. Let their separation simmer. Make what happened mean something, and have Din (post-banishment) come to the acceptance that Grogu wasn’t just his child -- he was one of the reasons Din had been his happiest in a long time. Like, they didn’t make sense yet Grogu being there just made sense to him. And now nothing does because he doesn’t have his child, he doesn’t have a clan.

(Besides, if TBOBF managed to balance Din’s appearance like they proved they could with balancing Boba in Mando s2, there could’ve been a thing where, like in the finale, Boba expresses his appreciation for Din’s loyalty and vice-versa. Maybe Boba expresses that just because somebody told Din he wasn’t a Mandalorian doesn’t mean he’s not -- that that’s up to him to decide. And if he ever decides he doesn’t want to be one -- or decides to keep being one -- he’ll always have a clan there on Tatooine. Have this come back in Mando s3 where Din can acceptably have an episode about him on Boba’s turf, trying to figure out a way to reclaim his title.)

I’m torn on whether Fennec should have an arc of her own, or if this queen would just be sitting at the table, eating a roasted leg of some kind of animal with her damn feet on the table, smirking, “I don’t need an arc; I’m perfectly fine.” I really liked the idea of her infiltrating the Pyke Syndicate and nicking off members, but that could be more of a season 2 thing where Fennec goes on a solo mission against Boba’s wishes and it turns out to be a lot more hazardous than she initially thought.

I’m not necessarily against Boba and Fennec deciding that maybe being crime lords isn’t for them and they might get a lot more done by being far more hands on, because that means more adventures. But mmmmm I’m not feeling the implication of that position falling to Din. Just feels like Disney’s shoving way too many Din fingers into pies. After a point, it’s just plain invasive -- and that point was more likely than not crossed when a show that was advertised as belonging to Boba became just another season of The Mandalorian.

Girl help I wound up somewhat rewriting the show lemme shut up now --

But yeah those are my thoughts. Sorry, this post got away from me.

But anyway, those are just some of my thoughts. Make of them what you will, I’m just word vomiting what I can while it’s still on the brain.

[sweetdreamsjeff]

Jeff Buckley: Grace under fire

Dave Simpson, The Guardian, 1 May 1998

Singer Jeff Buckley lived in the shadow of his father Tim's death. Dave Simpson remembers meeting the visionary of pain and loss, and hears the demo recordings of Buckley's planned second album

WHEN JEFF Buckley walked fully clothed and singing into a Memphis marina on the Mississippi river last year he closed one of the briefest, brightest chapters in rock. Bernard Butler, the former Suede guitarist, recently said: "If it wasn't for Jeff Buckley I wouldn't be doing any of this. Seeing him restored my faith in music." High praise, matched only by Led Zeppelin's high priest, Jimmy Page: "Jeff Buckley was one of the greatest losses of all."

Buckley left just one completed album, Grace, rightly hailed as a masterpiece. But the demos for what would have been his second, planned to be called My Sweetheart The Drunk, are released by Columbia this month.

Demos, because apparently Buckley was dissatisfied with the sessions (with former Television mainman Tom Verlaine) and planned to burn the recordings and start again, beginning with a rehearsal planned for the very night he died. Sketches contains some of the most stunning and intriguing rock performances ever committed to tape. It's impossible to decide which are the more affecting: the staggering soulful beauty of a song like 'Everybody Wants You', or the references to funerals, cemeteries and suicide that shadow the album; the fragile magnificence of 'Opened Once', or the album's pervasive sense of loneliness.

That Buckley could have even contemplated trashing this music is the mark either of an acute perfectionist or of an extremely disturbed mind. And is it just hindsight that gives lines like 'Witches Rave''s "I'll never make it out alive" such an eerie psychological pull?

Equally bizarrely, Buckley's mysterious demise aged 30 on May 29 1997 (he told a friend he was "going for a swim", although many have speculated it was suicide) appeared a curious twist of destiny. His natural father, sixties singer Tim Buckley, had died tragically (from a drug overdose on June 29 1975) at 28, and his son was forever stalked by the Buckley legend. "Eternal life is on my trail," Jeff once sang, knowing full well that he was carving his own myth.

I first met him in 1994, in the first flush of critical fanfare for Grace. I was sent along to get a handful of quotes for a music paper, and we ended up talking for over an hour. This was typical of Jeff. If he liked you, you were in. It didn't concern him that he had other, more important interviews scheduled and that his press officer was frantically trying to get his attention. Just as in his music, Jeff Buckley knew all the rules but routinely bent them to suit his own purposes. In conversation as on stage, he'd play up to the image he'd created — the moody, magnificent James Dean of rock — and shatter it in an instant. Expecting a tortured artist, I was surprised by his mischievous humour.

He was a bag of contradictions, someone who shaped his surroundings (as we talked, he selected Duke Ellington to play in his portable CD), whilst simultaneously claiming to be ill at ease, both with people and daily situations.

He could be remarkably, even suspiciously eloquent. He said of his voice: "I feel it and I wanna go there. Every feeling has an articulation. It's like when you get drunk or you try Ecstasy for the first time and all your secrets come tumbling out, and you say things you've never said before."

His music, he insisted, was equally natural. "Do you think about what you're doing when you're making love?" he asked, using a favourite metaphor. He was the sort of person who would flirt with a bathchair. His entire arsenal of vocal mannerisms seemed to be filched from Dean's simmering vocabulary. But it became obvious that Jeff Buckley was carrying around a set of troubles for which there were no easy answers.

Buckley's early life around California was fairly blissful, even though he was brought up by his Panamanian mother and two successive stepfathers. He picked up his grandmother's guitar aged six and learned about harmonies by singing along with his mom to the radio as it blared out tunes by Stevie Wonder and Sly Stone. His favourite record was Terry Jacks' premature-death anthem 'Seasons In The Sun'.

When Buckley was 12, his stepfather gave him a copy of Led Zeppelin's Physical Graffiti (later influences included Nina Simone, Sex Pistols and the Cocteau Twins), and Jeff began writing songs. His first, he remembered, was "something stupid about a break-up." In his teens at college in Los Angeles he penned 'Eternal Life', which included the lines: "Got my red glitter coffin, man, just need one more nail", about the rock-death myth.

Buckley moved to New York, building up a fearsome reputation as a live performer in and around East Village. By the time a reworked 'Eternal Life' and other equally harrowing but strangely beautiful songs such as 'Dream Brother' appeared in his set, many in the audiences (which often included the likes of Nick Cave) would scream in rapture. Others would find the outpourings of naked emotion so disquieting they'd leave the room.

"I'm used to being hated," he told me. "It's something I've had ever since I was a kid. It hurts, but there's nothing I can do. I'm not lying." Neither did he pull his punches. At almost the exact time as he secured a record deal, Jeff managed the potentially career-threatening feat of being seen to "diss" labelmate Bob Dylan.

"I was at A Hole In the Wall in New York, and I'd seen Dylan the night before," he revealed. "So I did an impression of him singing 'I Want You'. I did an impression of him singing 'Grace'. I talked about how he sailed through some songs and was really brilliant on others. People were shouting 'But he's still got it, right?' And I'm going: 'No. This is not Blonde On Blonde. This is him now. You guys are living in the past'."

In the audience were Bob Dylan's manager, his assistant manager, and his best friend. "Man, the next day I was in Tompkins Square Park, staring at the ground with the snow falling, wishing I was never born. My A&R man saying, 'Well, Bob feels dissed.' But I really didn't... I just... loved him so much I sent him up." Buckley wrote a personal apology — and then when Grace came out, critics hailed the "new Bob Dylan".

Around this time people began making the inevitable, if misleading musical comparisons between Jeff and Tim Buckley. Both were singer-songwriters with distinctive voices. Jeff never knew his father (he vaguely remembered their one meeting "on a beach somewhere"). He wouldn't accept that even his smouldering looks came from his father.

"I look like my mother," he insisted. "I have my own choices, and I have my own life. All I know is that the guy's dead. I had a very musical environment growing up, that didn't involve him. Maybe I was imbued with the same things, the same parts. But it ain't his voice, and it ain't my voice, and it wasn't his father's voice or his father's father before. It's just the voice that's passed down. My grandfather sang, apparently. And my grandfather on my mother's side sang! I come from a line of singers. But my choices are my choices."

Buckley's resentment was palpable. Was he angry because his father abandoned him? "It's private," he mumbled, "but I went through, and am still going through a period of trying to figure out... why? The main question you wanna answer is did he love you or not, and if so, why didn't he love you enough to..."

Stick around. He didn't need to finish the sentence. The force driving Jeff Buckley was that he never recovered from the rejection.

He clung on to other people. "All I want to do is love everyone," he sang. There was a scarcely publicised affair with Cocteau Twin Elizabeth Fraser (who once recorded his father's 'Song To The Siren'), even curious rumours concerning Marianne Faithfull. His idealism was mirrored by a profound hatred of everything he deemed false, from colonialism to MTV and supermodels. But his chief obsession was that he would somehow "fail the music".

But what if Jeff wasn't involved in music? His answer came in instalments. "I think... that I... would be... a corpse."

We met again, but the last time I saw him he seemed exhausted by the road, itching to get back into the studio. There were narcotic rumours, but his body was found clean. When the news of his death came through it seemed like a dark joke, the kind of macabre prank Buckley would have dreamt up. It wasn't.

During his life, people talked of "Tim Buckley's son", but from now on it could easily be "Jeff Buckley's father". Jeff would have laughed at that. But his powerful musical legacy will be his final vengeance.

© Dave Simpson, 1998

[violet-knox]

Thin Ice

Year 7 - Chapter 68

Summary: Severus dreads the apology he agreed to give to Connor but does his best to go through with it.

Word count: 1711

A/N: Hello! I am back! I'll do my best to resume weekly posting on Saturdays but as I'm still rusty to writing, I may miss a few Saturdays here and there. I replanned the rest of Year 7 with a total of 7 more chapters (including this one), all of which are basically filler chapters meant to help set up the next part of the the series. The remaining chapters will likely be fairly short but that's okay because I'm excited to get to the next part of the series! Thanks to everyone who's been leaving comments during my hiatus, they really mean a lot and helped me more than you can know 💜💜 I hope you enjoy this chapter and happy reading!

Previous Chapter - Chapter 1

~

Severus felt his heart thumping against his chest as he walked down the hall, your hand in his the only thing keeping him calm. He tightened his grip on you and felt you squeeze back in comfort as you led him towards the Entrance Hall. If you weren’t here with him, he knew he’d be running for the hills right now. He could care less what Connor thought about him, but this was important to you, and he knew you were right about what he needed to do next. Yesterday had been such a stressful day, but your relationship had survived it. It had grown so strong over the past year, he was astounded that it could withstand his stupidity.

Love truly was the most powerful thing he’d ever come to know, more so than any spell or curse he’d learned over the years. It was something he’d hoped to gain at Hogwarts, something that had come in the most unexpected way but he was so happy he’d experienced it. He knew now that it was all that mattered, that he had to protect it no matter the cost, that it was the only valuable thing in this world he possessed, and he would do anything to keep it, even if it meant facing the person he’d hurt yesterday.

“Are you ready?” You paused as you reached the Entrance Hall, taking his hands in yours as you looked up at him. You knew this couldn’t be easy for him, especially considering it was you who’d introduced him to Connor in the first place, but you were so glad he agreed to this without a second thought. It surprised you how easy it was to get him to agree to this meeting, but you wouldn’t protest of course. It showed growth, true compassion and understanding for what he’d done.

“No, but I know I have to do this,” Severus said calmly, gripping your hands tighter than ever before. He stared into your eyes and let them calm the ocean of chaos in his mind one last time before you led him outside towards the courtyard.

“I’m proud of you Sev,” you whispered to him as you let go of his hand, approaching your agreed upon meeting spot. Connor had already been waiting for you, his eyes fixed on you both as you approached him. It tore at you to see him look at you like this, his guard up, his eyes piercing with caution as you stopped before him. You could tell he was hurt, that your relationship with Severus felt like a betrayal to him after what happened yesterday and although you understood him, it saddened you to see someone you cared about look at you with such distaste.

“Connor, thanks for agreeing to meet,” you said, trying to break the ice as you felt the tension increase between him and Severus. You saw Severus let his hair fall in front of his face in the corner of your eyes as he always did when he wanted to retreat into himself. Connor looked like he was doing his best to keep himself from frowning which made what Severus did yesterday all the more heartbreaking. No one deserved to be treated that way, least of all him.

“I just wanted to say sorry if I was too forward,” Connor spoke to you, ignoring Severus entirely as he offered an apology. You could tell he partially blamed himself for what happened yesterday, but you didn’t see it that way. “I didn’t know you two were… together.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Connor. We were the ones who decided not to tell you about our relationship.” You took his guilt and made it your own, hoping it would help ease the situation and salvage the broken trust between the three of you. Silence filled the air as you all stood there awkwardly until you gave Severus a slight nudge, pushing him to say what you’d previously discussed with him.

“I-I’m sorry for what I said yesterday. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did,” Severus hesitantly said, his voice low in shame as he apologized for his regrettable actions yesterday. He meant what he said, and he did feel shameful for how he acted, but he hated the humiliating feeling that came with apologizing like this. He didn’t care for Connor like he did for you and Lily. He didn’t care for his forgiveness as he needed it from you and his ex-best friend. He felt nothing seeing Connor simply nod at his apology. It was clear the Ravenclaw had no interest in making amends, the air thickening around him.

“I-I hope we can remain friends,” you said awkwardly with a smile. Connor gave you a quick smile back as he shoved his hands in his pockets, mumbling about how he had class before walking away, leaving you and Severus to your own company and the dreadful feeling of a broken friendship. You were saddened by how horribly that interaction had gone, how Connor so easily ran away from you after months of building your friendship with him. You couldn’t help but wonder if things were always to remain this way with anyone who tried to come into your life, if Severus would chase them away with his insecurities and you’d both have to live your lives in solitude.

“Sev, promise me this won’t happen again,” you stated out of fear as you turned to him, needing reassurance that being with Severus didn’t come with a lifetime sentence of loneliness and an inability to have friends. You looked at him with sincerity, your eyes wide and he could see your concern was genuine. He frowned as he realized how hurt you were by the situation he’d created.

“I promise,” he whispered, his eyes never leaving yours as his worries for your relationship returned. He looked down and slowly reached for your hand, your weight heavier than ever in his palms. He could feel the burden you carried now, your relationship strained after the obviously broken friendship with Connor. Despite your lack of faith in him, he started walking out of the courtyards towards the empty fields, hoping some time alone could help remind you of the love you shared.

“(Y/N), are you alright?” Severus could sense your sadness weighing you down more so than it had yesterday. He thought this encounter could help ease your mind, that doing what you asked would set things right, but it was clear his optimism had once again betrayed him. You tried to put on a happy face for him, your words kind and assuring yet holding no true meaning to them. He’d never felt so helpless as he did in this moment, wanting to go back to how things were without knowing how.

“What do you mean?” You gave him a weak smile as you began to slowly make your way back inside the castle.

“Is-is everything alright with us?” ‘Yes’was the answer he needed, the answer you wanted to give but you couldn’t lie to him. You promised yourself you wouldn’t do that when you began dating again but it stung to acknowledge the concerns and heaving emotions of worry in your chest.

“I want it to be. But I’m afraid for our future Severus.” It was the truth, as much of it as you could bare put into words, but nevertheless it was the truth. But as Severus stepped in front of you, stopping you in your tracks, you could tell he knew you were holding back. Your shoulders dropped as your eyes wandered from his, unable to bare another word of complaint to him, fearing what it would do after the obvious show of insecurity yesterday.

“Do you-do you think I’m a bad person?” He asked with a heavy voice, his eyes wide as he watched for your response. You quickly looked up at him so see the saddest frown you’d ever seen him wear begging you for acceptance and affection.

“Severus, of course not,” You assured him with true sincerity this time. And you meant what you said. He wasn’t a bad person, he was simply flawed, as are every Witch and Wizard. But that fact still didn’t excuse his behaviour, nor did it excuse the fact that he seemed very reluctant to change, into bettering himself. “Sev, I’ll always love you and I’ll always believe in you. I just feel like we’re in this unbreakable loop that will alienate us from the rest of the world forever and I don’t want that.”

“Neither do I,” he spoke in a soft tone. The guilt burned him from the inside, his brain screaming at him to let you go, saying it would be what's best for you, his heart fighting back as it wailed with need and desire. “I don’t want to hold you back.”

You could hear the heartbreak in his voice, the instant regret of what you said as if the only way he would be able to give you back your freedom was by letting you go entirely. His lack of self-worth seemed to be an occurring theme in your relationship, something you hoped one day would change. “You don’t have to, Severus. We can be each other's strengths if that’s what you want. You just have to believe in me and trust the love I have for you.”

“Is that how you feel for me even after all this?” His eyes softened as his frown transfigured into a small, but heartwarming grin. He admired you with such passion, wondering how you could be real, how someone on this planet could actually care for him as you did.

“Yes, always,” you whispered as you took his hand and began making your way to class. Severus stayed quiet the entire way there, replaying every moment of the last two days and coming to one simple solution: he would never be worthy of you and no matter what he did, he could never make up for everything he’d done, everything he’d hidden from you. He was completely at fault for what he was feeling right now and the only way he could even begin to do right by you was to change.

~

Next Chapter

~

[thehltwoghosts]

Director's Cut: We Made It - Analysis

''I always said I'd stop eventually. The longer you go, the bigger the chance of messing it all up. The more you forget yourself. It's time. The walls are closing fast.''

It could be about stunts and being a part of one direction. He always told himself that someday ‟I'm going to quit’’ so the longer he continues his job, the more he can show his feelings in front of cameras while he pretends to hide.

He's beginning to forget himself, forget the caring about the ones who he loves. He just focuses himself to play what needs to be played and be the person who he has to be. ‘Cause the more he thinks about others, the weight he’s carrying is beginning to become more and more heavy with every heartbreak. 

In the first shots you can see that the guy's under the water for about 36 seconds which is longer than the last shot of the same scene. So in these shots, he takes time to think about all the memories with his lover and the things happened through the years. All the things we’re going to see are happening inside the guy’s head. Right now he’s examining these and trying to see what did he do right or wrong through all years.

I think that represents the time after one direction's break up. Louis was trying to find himself, find his sound and make what he wanted to do after all the things happened. He was trying to see it all at once, see his mistakes, take notes from those and come back present day as a better version of him. Clean, confident, honest...

We Made It

''Now we're saying goodbye, waving to the hard times. Yeah, it's gonna be alright.'' He wants to say goodbye to the hard times and start again. All along he knows that they're gonna make it whatever happens.

''Don't do this, he wouldn't stop. Keep using you and using you.''

His relationship was going through some troubles. They talk about his job, problems and how he needs to get away from the people who are using him. His partner tried to convince him to quit so they could be free.

''He's always tough to me. You just worried something happen'' 

He thinks differently at that time, thinks that he can work it all out and be adequate, thinks that the problem isn't the other guy who is in charge but himself. He can make it right, so others couldn't get any harm.

''Something will happen. If it isn't this time then the next. You're replaceable.'' 

''I gotta doing.'' 

The most important thing about this is he knows that he's replaceable, everybody can take his place, he knows that he's there to just serve, just obey for them.

Easter Egg :)

''I know him better than you ever will, he's my dad.''

This could be coincidence, If we didn't get the photo after a few days later when this video was released. Exact same time and exact integration with this sentence. Coincidence? We don't know her.

He has to go, has to do what he had been doing all along. Even If this cost to get away from the one who he loves, he needs to go. No other way that is known.

Same shots from the beginning keep showing us through the story. The story we saw is a flashback, happened in the past and now he's keeping some time to himself for review and understanding what has happened to them. Like I said before :)

Don't Let It Break Your Heart

''Don't you let it kill you, even when it hurts like hell.'' The second part is about trying to get away from the bad guy. He changed his mind, still a little hope inside him alive even If he has been hurt from time to time.

''I've known you since you were a little kid. I loved your family.'' 

''Don't know why they put all of this on us when we're so young. Done a pretty good job dealing with it all.'' He has been under the bad guy's control since he was a kid. He was just so innocent to fall in love.

''All I ask for loyalty.'' 

The guy wants his loyalty nothing less nothing more. Just his plan needs to go well as he designed. Players need to play their games and keep their mouths close.

I mean this scene is pretty obvious...

When the bad guy comes to place he's been in, he feels uncomfortable like every move he makes has been watched by someone who has control to say something about it. Then he looks away like he feels away from this group.

The guy gave money to people to make his works. Control every part of his plan to not have any mistakes. Perfect plan, perfect money.

''All you gotta remember, put your fucking mask on!'' 

In the second photo which is in video at 6:03. The person talking has a Bradford accent like Zayn and we have 5 guys in the car. Also you can see that guy has a strong impact on guys, they can't even ask questions or get answers.

''What's up?'' 

''What do you mean what's up?'' 

''You're not the same son. Don't mean tell me 'I'm fine'. Don't lie to me.'' 

While the guy asking these questions, he has a face that humiliates and insults people in front of him. And the boy always tries to avoid eye contact with the bad guy.

''I'm thinking after all these done, I have a little breather.'' 

''So you're asking me this or you're telling me?'' 

''I'm telling you.'' 

He's kinda shy while telling those, maybe scared of the reaction he'd receive. He seems insecure around the bad guy more than anybody.

''I decided what you do and when you do it, understand?'' 

''Good boy.'' 

''Go on your way.''

Bad guy takes a step closer to intimidate. Physical interaction, entering his personal zone, the look on the boy's face (disappointment) and last but not least the words. We can only imagine :(

''When you love someone and they let you go...'' This part has a few seconds to stop to highlight the words. And a little struggle tone Louis' used.

Stealing money could be about taking everything that he gave to the bad guy back. When he left, he dropped nothing to their advantage and used that to build his own life with his lover. Or it could be just a scenario thing.

''Listen to me sir! I want you to the get and find him and I want you to hurt him. Do whatever you gotta do to make him talk and gave my money back and when you done that, just give him a nicely walk.'' 

After money (the only thing he cares about) is taken away from him, he's just pissed off.

''You give me a cup of tea.'' 

That shade, only thing I found funny in this.

Kill My Mind

''You kill my mind, raise my body back to life and I don't know what I'd do without you now.'' He comes back to his love. Maybe the only thing keeps him what he's doing all this time along.

His lover's trying to have fun. Not fun fun but just for survival. Keeps living but one part is missing. Happy for the outside world but If you look inside, you can see the loneliness.

''I can ease the pain, just a little taste babe.'' They get back together. Happy that they're in each-other's arms, their kiss eases the pain. Just one touch, one look, one move...

They run away from the crowd. Arrive the place they can be alone and do whatever they want to do. Just lovers in the night, sky looks so blue, whispers on the air, laughs fill the blanks...

But they had been watched from the beginning. Even If looks like they're alone, every time they turn the corner or look around, they see others who examine every move they make. And the boy finally sets himself free, breaking away from the others just to be individual.

Just, I dare you to tell me these are not same. Lou is the fish, wbk :)

''Talk to me.'' 

''He's gone'' 

''Catch up(?) but with my money?'' 

''He jumped, there is no way he could have survived that.'' 

They think he can't make it on his own, he doesn't have anything special, he always needs others to shine. He is replaceable...

But he can make it and he made it. He landed the ground just by himself after all of these. He lost the weights on his shoulders, found somewhere he could be with his lover. The place where the sun's brighter than ever. Just them against everybody but together in the end.

These scenes... Louis watched all the events just like us. He can be an older version of his. He visited places after healing to just remember his past. He took the money from the bad guy and left nothing behind. Now he has power and money, but the bad guy has not.

So money isn’t just a scenario thing. Stealing money represents taking everything that he gave to the bad guy back. He took every piece of him from the guy, every moment he spent with him, every promise he had to make... He took everything just this guy to not have any impact on his career, on his life, on him as a person.

Only The Brave

''It's a solo song and it's only for the brave.'' 

He is brave enough to learn from his mistakes and fight to take his personality back. He is brave enough to stand for what he has, the love. He is brave enough to love ‘cause love is only for the brave. He’s brave...

''Love is only for the brave.''

''When you know, you know''  You know?

Even though we have 3 songs intertwined with story and a song extra, he named this as We Made It. He wants us to know that they made it, they've been going through changes and even If they had some problems along the way, in the end they're strong enough to stick each-other.

In conclusion, we saw a story along with a guy under the water. He thought about past events, choices he made, set himself free aka 1D break-up. At the end He Made It, he finally found his sound, confidence and most important lover. They're together and they'll be alright.

(Thanks for reading, take care yourself xxx)

THE END

[urimaginespimp]

Cowboy Like Me

Alfie x Reader

A/N: For some reason, the moment I heard this song from Evermore, my mind just immediately went to Alfie and a possible fic, so here you go!

--------

You were a traveler always yearning for a good life, never staying in one location for too long.

Despite being unexpected, your mother who was a high-class prostitute loved you unconditionally and taught you everything you needed to know – how to act like a proper lady, what men wanted to hear, how to wrap them around your finger, and how to detach yourself from falling inlove with them.

“But you have to promise me you’d lead a different life.” She told you when you were in your teens.

“But mama, what use would be what you’ve taught me?” your doe-eyed innocent face asked her.

“Men are as gullible outside a brothel, dear.” She pats your head lovingly. Smiling at your confused expression, she assured you. “You’ll understand when you’re older.”

For years, you two only had each other and you loved it that way. That was until the flu took her and you were left on your own.

Taking what little you have, you set out to make a living for yourself. It still took you a lot of getting used to a new lifestyle, but slowly you found it easier and easier to sweet talk every rich man you gave attention to into doing and giving you what you want without having to give your body. Maybe expensive possessions for you to sell, or the easy cash they wouldn’t think twice on giving you. Every town unvisited was wealth missed for you.

August in Liverpool was chilly. Thankful that you get to wear a coat over your dress, you smiled at the man guarding the infamous Eden Club as he let you in.

It was nothing you haven’t been to before – expensive interior, everybody dressed to the tens, and filled with rich lonely men. Only that you heard this was ran by Italians. Making your way in the middle towards the bar, you smiled sensing that heads turned your way.

By the bar you sat on one of the stools, enjoying a drink. Glancing to your left, you caught the eye of a man five seats away from you. He was clearly staring at you and liked what he was seeing.

He looks rich enough, so you offered a shy smile. He was about to get up from his seat when a, tall, buff man with a cane approached him. He had a beard, and was dressed nicely with black cape toe boots.

Not liking when people take your prey away, you decided to let it slide and look for another thinking that he didn’t know what he’s done. But as soon as your missed conquest was preoccupied with ordering another drink, the man with the beard turned your way with a smirk and winked at you.

He knew what he’s done.

Annoyed, you still gave him a sly smile, all thought of looking for another man went out the window. Three things were clear to him: You were beautiful, you didn’t know you almost encountered Darby Sabini, and that you didn’t know who the hell he himself was. For no sane person who have heard about him wouldn’t even dare look him in the eye nor smile.

When Sabini announced that he was retiring for the night, he bid the man goodbye, told Ollie to head home, and decided to approach you.

“You’re not from around er, luv?” He asked you. Standing in front of you now, it was undeniable that this man is way more handsome than the first one.

“Do first timers in this town get a free drink from you?” You smiled, peering at him through your lashes.

“I can buy you the whole bar, lass. But you’re gonna have to dance with me first.” He chuckled, extending his arm to you.

“Dancing is a dangerous game.” You said, taking his hand anyway, thinking that this would just be like one of your many nights.

Walking to the dancefloor, a slow tune was being played by the band. Taking both of your hands, he rested them on his shoulders, and you both started swaying to the tune.

“Dancing should be the least of your worries, luv. What’s dangerous was the man you were giving that pretty smile of yours earlier.” He explained.

“I’ve got some tricks up my sleeve.” You answered, shrugging.

“Mmm. Are you some sort of seducing bandit?” he asked. That was the first thing that went to his mind. A bandit.

“Why, do you think I’m out to seduce you?” you replied slyly.

“Takes one to know one, dear.” You both chuckled.

“You don’t strike me as a bandit, Mr…”

“Solomons. Alfie Solomons.” He finally introduced himself.

“Alfie.” You said. He tried to act like the mere mention of his name from your lips affected him. “I’m just a traveler, making ends meet by telling the rich folks anything they wanna hear.” You said quietly, looking him in the eye.

“A traveler… like one of em cowboys then?” He bluntly asked, making you giggle.

“If you see it that way.” You shrugged, chuckling.

“What do you tell those poor blokes?” His curiosity got the best of him.

“Hmm…” you ran your hands lower to rest on his chest. “Maybe how nights like this could lead them to something nice, and for the lonelier ones, I make them think it could lead to something more. But the thing is, Mr. Solomons, I have yet to meet someone who made me forget my mother’s most important rule.”

“And that is?”

“Not falling in love.” You gave him a sweet smile.

“You’re a cruel vixen, luv.” He said, looking at you intensely. Alfie wasn’t at all intimidated of you. He never wanted love. All the money, business, and fancy cars were enough for him. Forever is the sweetest con, he’d say. But something about you also intrigued him. Maybe because you were all to similar.

“I often just meet with ambitious men and tell em I’m the way forward.” He told you.

“Well, are you?” You asked, as his head got closer to you. Bringing his lips closer to your ear, he whispered.

“Only if they pay for it.” Sending you shivers down your spine.

--------

That night, he personally escorted you back to where you were staying over.

” Will I be seeing you again?” You asked, not trying to sound desperate. There was nothing wrong with making friends, you assured yourself.

“I know who owns this place. I’ll call in some time for you.” He answered, tucking your lose hair behind.

“That is, if I’d still be here by then.” You smiled.

“Well. Who am I to stop a traveler.” He sighed, masking his disappointment. “Got something to help me remember you by, luv?” He asked jokingly.

“it’s your call, Mr. Solomons. What do you want?” You whispered looking up to meet his gaze. For the first time in in your months of travels, something in you was yearning to stay longer.

Maybe it was the way your eyes were full of stars from looking up to him in the night, or that really liked you, but Alfie found himself leaning down to meet your lips. It wasn’t long ‘til you were responding. It was soft, but probably the most intense kiss you ever had, leading you both inside.

Clothes were taken off and thrown all over the room, somehow getting his boots of with ease, he kicked them beneath your bed and lead you both on top of the sheets. As sweet as it was, you both knew it was one for parting your separate ways.

Against your better judgement, you found yourself staying for two more nights in that guest house in hopes of him calling. But it never came.

That was a month ago and that night was still fresh in your memory. It didn’t go the way you expected, but meeting a man such as Alfie Solomons was way better.

You were in a town called Camden. You’ve had several conquests for the last month from other towns - typical older men that you’ve swindled into believing you were smitten by them.

Walking along its streets, you didn’t know this was where the Alfie Solomons resided. That was until you were in a small café and you overheard a group of ladies talking about him passing through the town that morning.

“I thought he never leaves that bakery of his.” One of them said.

“That man needs a wife. Maybe then he’d actually be less brooding.”

Finishing up, you paid your fee. You needed to leave his town immediately. Because as much as he made you feel things you never thought you’d deal with, you’ve decided that he was bad for your ambitions.

Walking briskly through the streets of Camden, you were only a few houses down to your guesthouse when you stopped on your tracks.

By the door of it was no other than Alfie, expectantly waiting for you, his left hand holding the leash of a dog.

“When Ollie told me you went into town last night I almost didn’t believe him.” He started, slowly walking towards you.

Seeing the man again made you forget whatever it was you warned yourself about him.

“I never thought I’d meet you here.” You answered in all honesty.

“Don’t worry. I’m not one to accuse ladies of stalking.” You both chuckled.

“I guess I won’t be having any luck in Camden too, huh?”

Whoever and whatever goes in and out of Camden was his business. So, when Ollie told him that the lady from Liverpool was seen entering a guesthouse last night, he took the chance of looking for you that morning after a sleepless night clouded by you.

“Perhaps you will.” He answered.

“Oh?”

“Luv, I’m going out a limb here when I say you can’t deny there’s something ‘er.” He told you seriously.

“But you never called.” That was all you could say. You couldn’t even deny what he said.

“All coz I called too late. Ya never heard of all that no calling til three days? Ollie advised me so I won’t look too desperate. Almost fired the lad.” He chuckled.

“Well, what does Camden have to offer the bandit?” You smiled teasingly.

“Everything you want so long as you stay with me, luv. We could be the way forward.” He convinced you, taking a step closer.

“And?” tilting your head to the side, trying not to laugh at him using that line with you.

“And I know I’ll pay for it.” He rolled his eyes before taking you head with his free hand and crashed his lips to yours.

He was the lone exception to your mother’s rule, and the one to help you lead a different life. You knew you were never gonna love again.

[kiraakirana]

a place to start - h. kakashi

It has been a few days since the construction next to Y/N's house started. Day and night was filled with hammering sounds, and to make it worse, it was right next to her bed. As a result, she couldn't sleep for days. Kakashi, who had been one of her longest friend, noticed how restless she was because she couldn't perform up to her usual standard during missions.

"What's up with you these days?" he asked while sitting down next to her.

"I haven't slept in days. The construction next to my house continues even at night, damn it," she replied groggily, resting her dizzy head against the tree trunk.

It was a few minutes before Kakashi opened his mouth to speak again but this time, he said something truly out of character, "Want to stay by my place?"

Y/N slowly processed his words and turned his head to look at him questionably, eyebrows furrowed. "I mean, it's okay if you don't want to. It's just that you have low iron or something right? It could take a toll on the success of the mission if you're sick."

Y/N bursted out laughing, hearing Kakashi trying to explain himself while scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "You know, that was so out of character. You're such a private person so this is kind of new. Anyways, thanks, Kakashi. I'd drop by your place tonight."

-

So that was how Y/N end up on Kakashi's bed while he lied on the couch. It had been an hour since she laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling because no matter how tight she close her eyes, she couldn't put her mind at ease. She saw Kakashi reading his book and sat up. "Kakashi, why don't you just sleep next to me?"

"Huh?"

"Sleep next to me," she said, patting the empty space next to her, "I feel kind of bad if I sleep here and you on the couch. I'm not a messy sleeper, so you don't have to worry about being knocked over," she grins, tucking her messy hair behind her ears.

"Are you sure about that? I'm fine with being here, you know. I usually don't sleep anyway."

Noticing how Kakashi seemed set on his decision of not moving, Y/N walked to him and linked her arm to his, dragging him to the bed. "If I'm with you, you have to sleep. You're going to die from your lack of sleep someday if you keep doing that."

"Is that even possible?"

"I don't know," Y/N said, laughing a little. Kakashi chuckled and ended up sitting next to her, a book on his hand as she drifted off to sleep. When Y/N woke up an hour later to check on Kakashi, she saw him sleeping peacefully. Not used to seeing Kakashi like this, Y/N smiled to herself. She knew Kakashi suffers from insomia due to everything that happened in his past. She can't help but worry about him most of the time, despite knowing how much of an excellent shinobi he is. Therefore she was glad to see him in such tranquility, it's the least she could do.

-

It was around 2 in the morning when Y/N heard Kakashi's heavy and irregular breathing. He was sitting up straight with his hand covering his face. "Kakashi, what happened?" she asked worriedly as she sat facing him.

"Sorry," he whispered weakly, "I woke you up, didn't I?"

Y/N has lost all her rationality and didn't think about it when she pulled him in for a hug, resting her head on his shoulder. She ran her fingers through his white hair soothingly, "Shh, nevermind that." She pulled him closer so that they could share her body warmth since she noticed how cold he was, "It's okay, now. I'm here," she calmly said.

She knew it had to be one of his mental breakdown from a nightmare he must've had. She knew from the longest time that Kakashi was always suppressing his emotions. In a way, they're the same. They both had no one to confide into. She knew how lonely that feeling is, so now that she's here, she didn't want Kakashi to feel go through that alone. She often wished that she has someone by her side during her nervous breakdown, therefore she wanted to be there for Kakashi.

She also knew loneliness is hard to erase, especially if you had been so used to it. But if her presence could make even the slightest difference in his life, then she's willing to do whatever it takes, no matter how long.

She felt Kakashi shivering so she started drawing small circles on his back to calm him down. Once she felt that he had regained his regular breathing, she pulled him away as she stared into his eyes and unmasked face, hands resting on his shoulder.

She started caressing the scar below his eye and gave him a smile. "Kakashi, please know that you're not alone. I will always be with you when you need me, you don't have to shoulder your pain alone, you know. I'm willing to share it with you.

And your past, we both know we can't change them. They make us who we are. In other words, past is bittersweet. But despite everything, despite what your past may be, I'll accept you for who you are. Because the present you has become very important to me," she took a deep breath as she studied his face which he kept hidden from everyone. "And more than everything in the world, I don't want to lose you. So, thank you, for surviving until now."

The next thing she did was something done unconsciously and without much thinking about the consequences it may bring. She rested both of her palms on Kakashi's cheeks and leaned in, planting a soft kiss on the scar below his left eye.

Realizing what she had done, she dropped her hand and hung her head embarrassedly, "I'm sorry." It was also an effort to hide her blushing cheeks because she was feeling hot all over. Has she lost her mind? What on earth was she thinking?

Kakashi suddenly grabbed her hand and brought her closer. There was almost no space between them. Her heart was beating like crazy. She was afraid that he could hear the loud beatings because then he would know how much she's in a disarray right now.

Kakashi looked at her eyes in a way he had never before. There was a hint of gratefulness and determination in his eyes before they dropped to her lips. He leaned in and kissed them slowly but immediately pulled away as he wasn't sure if she wanted it or not.

Y/N who felt her knees went weak, was sure she could turn into a puddle of water at any given minute. She turned her head away, trying to hide the rosy tint of her cheeks. Kakashi dropped his head on her shoulder and said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

Surprised because he seemed to misunderstand, Y/N grabbed his shoulders and brought her hands to his cheeks before pulling him in for another kiss. This one to reassure him, that she too, felt the same way. For a very long time now, to be honest. But it was today that she finally came into peace with how she was feeling, no longer in denial about it and no longer trying to refuse it.

It was another short kiss. She was nervous and she wasn't exactly experienced on kissing. Kakashi on the other hand, was a very experienced kisser. He knew exactly how to put butterflies in her stomach (an in other areas as well, lol jk).

They pulled away for a second. Registering everything that had happened. Deciding that they both want more since those two short kisses don't seem to pay for the amount of years that they've both spent liking each other in secret, Kakashi leaned in and once he's close enough, Kakashi whispered, "Thank you, Y/N," before kissing her again. This one is long and passionate. She swore to God she could feel Kakashi saying 'I love you' against her lips. Damn, her head's in a frenzy and she felt her entire body heating up.

Still feeling very shy, once they pulled away from each other, Y/N buried her head in the crook of Kakashi's neck. She was a blushing mess. What she didn't know was Kakashi also has the same tint on his cheeks. They both ended up laughing while still embracing each other. Praying to God or whoever it is above to stop the time for a while.

She didn't know what she has done to earn herself a very precious person. Kakashi who was always followed by the shadow of loneliness and thinking he's going to be alone for the rest of his life, questioned himself if he truly deserves such a goddess who loves him for everything that he is.

"I promise I'll always stay with you."

It was a place to start. For the both of them who finally found light in their darkness.

- A/N: I just watched a bit of Kakashi's backstory since I'm still on season 6 of Shippuden, but I can't imagine the pain he goes through at such a young age. I feel like despite Kakashi trying his best to discard his emotions, he'd still be really fragile and nothing comforts him more other than reassurance and appreciation (as much as he hates to admit it). He can be really soft when he finally lets his guard down with the person he trusts (and believe me it takes tons of years for this man to open up but once he does, he'd turn jelly around you and becomes a big puppy who just wants to cling around you) or in other words, turns into a completely different person who craves affection. Ok that's too long for an author note lol. bye guys.

oh and i found the picture on pinterest but i couldn’t find the artist so you can notify me if u know who the artist is and i’ll credit them!

[charlessmithhasmyheart]

Valentines 2021

Type: Arthur Morgan x Reader

Trigger Warning: mentions of possible death

A/N: Heyo! This is for the lovely @that-wimpy-cowboy-doll​ who requested something with Arthur for the Valentines Gift thingy! Apologies for this being a little late; work has been short-staffed lately, which meant my writing time was cut to a considerably small amount. Hopefully this is what you want; if not, I’m totally fine with adjusting it to your needs! Much love! 

____________

The night air was cool, a slight breeze disturbing the grass as you sat near the rock ledge at Horse Shoe Overlook. It was a relatively safe place. It was quiet, secluded; hardly a chance of being followed by any unsavory characters. Most of the gang was able to relax with the threat of danger having been quelled. At least for the time being spirits were high. That was evident by the faint sounds of guitar music and off-key singing reaching your ears. Normally you would be over there joining in on all the merriment.

But not tonight. 

Tonight you had sequestered yourself away from the others, their positive auras putting a damper on your already bad mood. That and the thought that Arthur could return at any moment, his clothes all mussed from a full day of riding, and the sour expression that usually donned his face disappearing as he joined the other outlaws by the fire, oblivious to your inner turmoil. It made you sick to your stomach just thinking about it even now.

Suppressing a shiver, you wrapped your arms around yourself and dangled your legs over the ledge. The grasslands below were quiet. Not even a rabbit stirred among the foliage. It seemed to mirror the loneliness that was slowly building up within you. In some ways it was a small comfort; if you were feeling lonely, why shouldn’t the rest of the world feel lonely too.

A sigh involuntarily escaped your lips as your mind continued to think of the surly outlaw. 

You had met him nearly over a year ago during one of your excursions to Blackwater. The gang hadn’t settler properly then; Arthur was sent as a look-out of sorts to scout the area and see if anything looked promising. You, on the other hand, were simply a farmers child running a few errands. It almost seemed like fate when you really thought about it. You hadn’t planned to be out and about, but your mother, a strong and very convincing woman, had insisted you go looking for another bolt of cloth. In reality, you suspected she had been hoping you would find a suitor. A dreamers hope really.

You had never been interested in anyone. Blackwater was a dry desert full of farmers desperate to pull together a boom town. They were all boring individuals; either expecting a spouse who would commit to more than their fair share of work or someone to produce a large family, which was something you weren’t ready for.

Not to mention your mother had talked you up to half the eligible suitors in town creating an aura of embarrassment and anxiety.

As you made your way through the various builders and hagglers, you had finally come to the only general store for miles. The building was crude, more of a haphazard collections of walls and roof, but it was enough to get the job done. The owner of the store, a middle-aged man with a full beard and thinning blonde hair, stood behind a pile of wooden boxes that served as a counter with a welcoming gleam in his eye. 

“Hello there. What can I do for you today?”

“Morning Andrew, just here to pick up some cloth. Nothin’ too special.”

Andrew’s mouth pulled into a small smile.

“Well, we don’t have too much, but everything we have is in the corner over to your right. Help yourself.”

Nodding in thanks, you had turned around and smacked right into something solid. Apparently there had been another person in the store, but you hadn’t noticed. You felt yourself start to fall. Not only had you knocked into the stranger, but you had snagged the back of your trousers under your shoe. Needless to say, the ground came up pretty hard.

“Oh, sorry ma’am. Are you alright?”

It was with those six simple words that your life changed forever.

After the embarrassing encounter, Arthur, having been the recipient of your clumsiness, had offered to buy you a drink to clear up any misgivings. Naturally, you accepted. A few drinks later and you had divulged your entire life story; how many siblings you had, your mother’s knack for finding all your flaws, the way your father hardly spoke any words when he was at home, and how the chickens on your farm absolutely detested you with every fiber of their flightless being.

Arthur had remained a bit more tactful in that regard, but he had found you charming and amusing, so he asked to see you a second time. And then a third. And then a fourth. He asked to frequently to spend time with you, that you were hardly at home. Your parents were quite happy with the prospects of a possible marriage, even if they had never met the man in question.

One day, while the two of you were out on a leisurely stroll, Arthur had decided it was time to come clean about his life story. To say you were shocked was too simple. An outlaw? And not only that, but a member of one of the most notorious gangs out there; The Vanderlinde gang? It was a lot to take in. Despite your obvious feelings for him, you had asked for some space to think about everything he had said, even going to your mother for some hypothetical advice.

Clearly your misgivings hadn’t been too difficult to overcome considering you were here now with the gang, but, at the time, it felt like the hardest choice of your life. Now, here you still were, legs over the ledge, and your annoyance at Arthur continuing to grow. 

A part of you felt a bit guilty for your frustrations, knowing that Arthur already does enough around camp without having to cater to your feelings, but it was the anniversary of the first day you had bumped into that man in the store. You had hoped to have been able to spend the day together. Maybe a picnic in the fields or a day in town, but Dutch had sent him on mission after mission, without any signs of protest from Arthur. It seemed to you as if he didn’t care at all.

“Hey darlin’. What are you doin’ all the way out here, huh?”

You’d recognize that voice anywhere. The drawl was hard to miss. Your knight in dusty denim had arrived. A little too late, you thought darkly.

Your silence became an invisible barrier between the two of you, as Arthur took a few tentative steps closer and eased himself onto the grass next to you. His own legs dangled over the rocky ledge next to you. They were close, but he left a considerably larger space than you were used too. 

The quiet lingered for a while, neither of you saying anything; you looking anywhere but Arthur and the outlaw whistling and bobbing his left leg.

“So,” he said, finally breaking the silence. “I can tell somethin’s botherin’ ya. What’s wrong?”

You twisted your head too officially look at Arthur. His signature hat with the bullet hole was perched atop his scraggly mop of dark blond locks, his beard was a bit unkempt as well, and there was a thing veil of exhaustion behind his eyes. Your irritability evaporated.

“Do you know what today is, Arthur?” You asked quietly. He stared back at you, an odd expression on his face, and you took that to mean the worst. “I figured as much. I’m gonna go to bed Arthur. You come when you’re ready.”

As you made to stand up, Arthur clasped his hand gently around your wrist, stopping you.

“You think I’d forget?” He said, quiet as yours had previously been. “You think I’d forget one of the most important days of my life? The day we met?”

You locked eyes with him once again.

“Darlin’, I know things haven’t been easy lately, and I haven’t been able to spend much time with you.” He continued, voice full of emotion. “But don’t think for a second that you aren’t a priority. You mean more to me than the stars do the night sky.”

You felt tears brim at the corners of your eyes, and you flung yourself forward and wrapped your arms tightly around his waist.

“Oh Arthur!” You cried, the reassurance he had given you making your heart soar. Arthur chuckled and returned the hug, his had brushing gently against the small of your back. When you pulled away, he had a sheepish grin on his face. He dug in his pockets and took out a small bundle of cloth.

“Here. Open it.”

Taking the cloth in your hands, you gingerly peeled back the fabric to reveal a small comb with a flower decoration engraved on the ridge. It looked eerily similar to the one your mother had used when you were young.

“I remembered you sayin’ somethin’ about a comb that your mother had, so I had one made up for you.”

“Thank you, Arthur. This is the best gift anyone has ever given me.” You gushed, before learned forward to press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

Arthur smiled and clasped his hand in yours, before resting his head on your shoulders. The two of you stayed there for a while, just watching the stars and enjoying each others company while the sounds of the gang and the crackling fires faded into the background.