#and cordelia is like i know that was wrong of me

[margareturtle]

Firmly believe that TLH would’ve gotten so much better if every Matthew&Cordelia scene was replaced with a Cordelia&Lucie scene

Like okay if they’re gonna be parabatai make me believe that they’re gonna he parabatai!!!

Cordelia should’ve known about raising Jesse and had to grudgingly working with Grace/get to know her so that Grace isn’t just some cold enemy.

Lucie should’ve gone with Cordelia when she becomes palladin

Cordelia running away with Lucie who has just raised Jesse when she thinks that James still loves Grace

Cordelia trusting Lucie enough that Lucie is the one that she runs to when she is heartbroken about James!!

Seeing them fight but also seeing their relationship progress throughout TLH so that they actually feel like,,, ya know parabatai!!!

Meanwhile we could’ve had more matthew and the merry thieves moments instead— and matthew talking with his mother and brother instead of running away!!

[queenlucythevaliant]

Tell Your Dad You Love Him

A retelling of "Meat Loves Salt"/"Cap O'Rushes" for the @inklings-challenge Four Loves event

An old king had three daughters. When his health began to fail, he summoned them, and they came.

Gordonia and Rowan were already waiting in the hallway when Coriander arrived. They were leaned up against the wall opposite the king’s office with an air of affected casualness. “I wonder what the old war horse wants today?” Rowan was saying. “More about next year’s political appointments, I shouldn’t wonder.”

“The older he gets, the more he micromanages,” Gordonia groused fondly. “A thousand dollars says this meeting could’ve been an email.”

They filed in single-file like they’d so often done as children: Gordonia first, then Rowan, and Coriander last of all. The king had placed three chairs in front of his desk all in a row. His daughters murmured their greetings, and one by one they sat down. 

“I have divided everything I have in three,” the king said. “I am old now, and it’s time. Today, I will pass my kingdom on to you, my daughters.”

A short gasp came from Gordonia. None of them could have imagined that their father would give up running his kingdom while he still lived. 

The king went on. “I know you will deal wisely with that which I leave in your care. But before we begin, I have one request.”

“Yes father?” said Rowan.

“Tell me how much you love me.”

An awkward silence fell. Although there was no shortage of love between the king and his daughters, theirs was not a family which spoke of such things. They were rich and blue-blooded: a soldier and the daughters of a soldier, a king and his three court-reared princesses. The royal family had always shown their affection through double meanings and hot cups of coffee.

Gordonia recovered herself first. She leaned forward over the desk and clasped her father’s hands in her own. “Father,” she said, “I love you more than I can say.” A pause. “I don’t think there’s ever been a family so happy in love as we have been. You’re a good dad.”

The old king smiled and patted her hand. “Thank you, Gordonia. We have been very happy, haven’t we? Here is your inheritance. Cherish it, as I cherish you.”

Rowan spoke next; the words came tumbling out.  “Father! There’s not a thing in my life which you didn’t give me, and all the joy in the world beside. Come now, Gordonia, there’s no need to understate the matter. I love you more than—why, more than life itself!”

The king laughed, and rose to embrace his second daughter. “How you delight me, Rowan. All of this will be yours.”

Only Coriander remained. As her sisters had spoken, she’d wrung her hands in her lap, unsure of what to say. Did her father really mean for flattery to be the price of her inheritance? That just wasn’t like him. For all that he was a politician, he’d been a soldier first. He liked it when people told the truth.

When the king’s eyes came to rest on her, Coriander raised her own to meet them. “Do you really want to hear what you already know?” 

“I do.”

She searched for a metaphor that could carry the weight of her love without unnecessary adornment. At last she found one, and nodded, satisfied. “Dad, you’re like—like salt in my food.”

“Like salt?”

“Well—yes.”

The king’s broad shoulders seemed to droop. For a moment, Coriander almost took back her words. Her father was the strongest man in the world, even now, at eighty. She’d watched him argue with foreign rulers and wage wars all her life. Nothing could hurt him. Could he really be upset? 

But no. Coriander held her father’s gaze. She had spoken true. What harm could be in that?

“I don’t know why you’re even here, Cor,” her father said.

Now, Coriander shifted slightly in her seat, unnerved. “What? Father—”

“It would be best if—you should go,” said the old king.

“Father, you can’t really mean–”

“Leave us, Coriander.”

So she left the king’s court that very hour.

 .

It had been a long time since she’d gone anywhere without a chauffeur to drive her, but Coriander’s thoughts were flying apart too fast for her to be afraid. She didn’t know where she would go, but she would make do, and maybe someday her father would puzzle out her metaphor and call her home to him. Coriander had to hope for that, at least. The loss of her inheritance didn’t feel real yet, but her father—how could he not know that she loved him? She’d said it every day.

She’d played in the hall outside that same office as a child. She’d told him her secrets and her fears and sent him pictures on random Tuesdays when they were in different cities just because. She had watched him triumph in conference rooms and on the battlefield and she’d wanted so badly to be like him. 

If her father doubted her love, then maybe he’d never noticed any of it. Maybe the love had been an unnoticed phantasm, a shadow, a song sung to a deaf man. Maybe all that love had been nothing at all.  

A storm was on the horizon, and it reached her just as she made it onto the highway. Lightning flashed and thunder rolled. Rain poured down and flooded the road. Before long, Coriander was hydroplaning. Frantically, she tried to remember what you were supposed to do when that happened. Pump the brakes? She tried. No use. Wasn’t there something different you did if the car had antilock brakes? Or was that for snow? What else, what else–

With a sickening crunch, her car hit the guardrail. No matter. Coriander’s thoughts were all frenzied and distant. She climbed out of the car and just started walking.

Coriander wandered beneath an angry sky on the great white plains of her father’s kingdom. The rain beat down hard, and within seconds she was soaked to the skin. The storm buffeted her long hair around her head. It tangled together into long, matted cords that hung limp down her back. Mud soiled her fine dress and splattered onto her face and hands. There was water in her lungs and it hurt to breathe. Oh, let me die here, Coriander thought. There’s nothing left for me, nothing at all. She kept walking.

 .

When she opened her eyes, Coriander found herself in a dank gray loft. She was lying on a strange feather mattress.

She remained there a while, looking up at the rafters and wondering where she could be. She thought and felt, as it seemed, through a heavy and impenetrable mist; she was aware only of hunger and weakness and a dreadful chill (though she was all wrapped in blankets). She knew that a long time must have passed since she was fully aware, though she had a confused memory of wandering beside the highway in a thunderstorm, slowly going mad because—because— oh, there’d been something terrible in her dreams. Her father, shoulders drooping at his desk, and her sisters happily come into their inheritance, and she cast into exile—

She shuddered and sat up dizzily. “Oh, mercy,” she murmured. She hadn’t been dreaming.

She stumbled out of the loft down a narrow flight of stairs and came into a strange little room with a single window and a few shabby chairs. Still clinging to the rail, she heard a ruckus from nearby and then footsteps. A plump woman came running to her from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron and softly clucking at the state of her guest’s matted, tangled hair.

“Dear, dear,” said the woman. “Here’s my hand, if you’re still unsteady. That’s good, good. Don’t be afraid, child. I’m Katherine, and my husband is Folke. He found you collapsed by the goose-pond night before last. I’m she who dressed you—your fine gown was ruined, I’m afraid. Would you like some breakfast? There’s coffee on the counter, and we’ll have porridge in a minute if you’re patient.”

“Thank you,�� Coriander rasped.

“Will you tell me your name, my dear?”

“I have no name. There’s nothing to tell.”

Katherine clicked her tongue. “That’s alright, no need to worry. Folke and I’ve been calling you Rush on account of your poor hair. I don’t know if you’ve seen yourself, but it looks a lot like river rushes. No, don’t get up. Here’s your breakfast, dear.”

There was indeed porridge, as Katherine had promised, served with cream and berries from the garden. Coriander ate hungrily and tasted very little. Then, when she was finished, the goodwife ushered her over to a sofa by the window and put a pillow beneath her head. Coriander thanked her, and promptly fell asleep.

 .

She woke again around noon, with the pounding in her head much subsided. She woke feeling herself again, to visions of her father inches away and the sound of his voice cracking across her name.

Katherine was outside in the garden; Coriander could see her through the clouded window above her. She rose and, upon finding herself still in a borrowed nightgown, wrapped herself in a blanket to venture outside.

“Feeling better?” Katherine was kneeling in a patch of lavender, but she half rose when she heard the cottage door open.

“Much. Thank you, ma’am.

“No thanks necessary. Folke and I are ministers, of a kind. We keep this cottage for lost and wandering souls. You’re free to remain here with us for as long as you need.”

“Oh,” was all Coriander could think to say. 

“You’ve been through a tempest, haven’t you? Are you well enough to tell me where you came from?”

Coriander shifted uncomfortably. “I’m from nowhere,” she said. “I have nothing.”

“You don’t owe me your story, child. I should like to hear it, but it will keep till you’re ready. Now, why don’t you put on some proper clothes and come help me with this weeding.”

 .

Coriander remained at the cottage with Katherine and her husband Folke for a week, then a fortnight. She slept in the loft and rose with the sun to help Folke herd the geese to the pond. After, Coriander would return and see what needed doing around the cottage. She liked helping Katherine in the garden.

The grass turned gold and the geese’s thick winter down began to come in. Coriander’s river-rush hair proved itself unsalvageable. She spent hours trying to untangle it, first with a hairbrush, then with a fine-tooth comb and a bottle of conditioner, and eventually even with honey and olive oil (a home remedy that Folke said his mother used to use). So, at last, Coriander surrendered to the inevitable and gave Katherine permission to cut it off. One night, by the yellow light of the bare bulb that hung over the kitchen table, Katherine draped a towel over Coriander’s shoulders and tufts of gold went falling to the floor all round her.

“I’m here because I failed at love,” she managed to tell the couple at last, when her sorrows began to feel more distant. “I loved my father, and he knew it not.”

Folke and Katherine still called her Rush. She didn’t correct them. Coriander was the name her parents gave her. It was the name her father had called her when she was six and racing down the stairs to meet him when he came home from Europe, and at ten when she showed him the new song she’d learned to play on the harp. She’d been Cor when she brought her first boyfriend home and Cori the first time she shadowed him at court. Coriander, Coriander, when she came home from college the first time and he’d hugged her with bruising strength. Her strong, powerful father.

As she seasoned a pot of soup for supper, she wondered if he understood yet what she’d meant when she called him salt in her food. 

 .

Coriander had been living with Katherine and Folke for two years, and it was a morning just like any other. She was in the kitchen brewing a pot of coffee when Folke tossed the newspaper on the table and started rummaging in the fridge for his orange juice. “Looks like the old king’s sick again,” he commented casually. Coriander froze.

She raced to the table and seized hold of the paper. There, above the fold, big black letters said, KING ADMITTED TO HOSPITAL FOR EMERGENCY TREATMENT. There was a picture of her father, looking older than she’d ever seen him. Her knees went wobbly and then suddenly the room was sideways.

Strong arms caught her and hauled her upright. “What’s wrong, Rush?”

“What if he dies,” she choked out. “What if he dies and I never got to tell him?”

She looked up into Folke’s puzzled face, and then the whole sorry story came tumbling out.

When she was through, Katherine (who had come downstairs sometime between salt and the storm) took hold of her hand and kissed it. “Bless you, dear,” she said. “I never would have guessed. Maybe it’s best that you’ve both had some time to think things over.”

Katherine shook her head. “But don’t you think…?”

“Yes?”

“Well, don’t you think he should have known that I loved him? I shouldn’t have needed to say it. He’s my father. He’s the king.”

Katherine replied briskly, as though the answer should have been obvious. “He’s only human, child, for all that he might wear a crown; he’s not omniscient. Why didn’t you tell your father what he wanted to hear?”

“I didn’t want to flatter him,” said Coriander. “That was all. I wanted to be right in what I said.”

The goodwife clucked softly. “Oh dear. Don’t you know that sometimes, it’s more important to be kind than to be right?”

.

In her leave-taking, Coriander tried to tell Katherine and Folke how grateful she was to them, but they wouldn’t let her. They bought her a bus ticket and sent her on her way towards King’s City with plenty of provisions. Two days later, Coriander stood on the back steps of one of the palace outbuildings with her little carpetbag clutched in her hands. 

Stuffing down the fear of being recognized, Coriander squared her shoulders and hoped they looked as strong as her father’s. She rapped on the door, and presently a maid came and opened it. The maid glanced Coriander up and down, but after a moment it was clear that her disguise held. With all her long hair shorn off, she must have looked like any other girl come in off the street.

“I’m here about a job,” said Coriander. “My name’s Rush.”

 .

The king's chambers were half-lit when Coriander brought him his supper, dressed in her servants’ apparel. He grunted when she knocked and gestured with a cane towards his bedside table. His hair was snow-white and he was sitting in bed with his work spread across a lap-desk. His motions were very slow.

Coriander wanted to cry, seeing her father like that. Yet somehow, she managed to school her face. Like he would, she kept telling herself. Stoically, she put down the supper tray, then stepped back out into the hallway. 

It was several minutes more before the king was ready to eat. Coriander heard papers being shuffled, probably filed in those same manilla folders her father had always used. In the hall, Coriander felt the seconds lengthen. She steeled herself for the moment she knew was coming, when the king would call out in irritation, “Girl! What's the matter with my food? Why hasn’t it got any taste?”

When that moment came, all would be made right. Coriander would go into the room and taste his food. “Why,” she would say, with a look of complete innocence, “It seems the kitchen forgot to salt it!” She imagined how her father’s face would change when he finally understood. My daughter always loved me, he would say. 

Soon, soon. It would happen soon. Any second now. 

The moment never came. Instead, the floor creaked, followed by the rough sound of a cane striking the floor. The door opened, and then the king was there, his mighty shoulders shaking. “Coriander,” he whispered. 

“Dad. You know me?”

“Of course.”

“Then you understand now?”

The king’s wrinkled brow knit. “Understand about the salt? Of course, I do. It wasn't such a clever riddle. There was surely no need to ruin my supper with a demonstration.”

Coriander gaped at him. She'd expected questions, explanations, maybe apologies for sending her away. She'd never imagined this.

She wanted very badly to seize her father and demand answers, but then she looked, really looked, at the way he was leaning on his cane. The king was barely upright; his white head was bent low. Her questions would hold until she'd helped her father back into his room. 

“If you knew what I meant–by saying you were like salt in my food– then why did you tell me to go?” she asked once they were situated back in the royal quarters. 

Idly, the king picked at his unseasoned food. “I shouldn’t have done that. Forgive me, Coriander. My anger and hurt got the better of me, and it has brought me much grief. I never expected you to stay away for so long.”

Coriander nodded slowly. Her father's words had always carried such fierce authority. She'd never thought to question if he really meant what he’d said to her. 

“As for the salt,” continued the king, "Is it so wrong that an old man should want to hear his daughters say ‘I love you' before he dies?” 

Coriander rolled the words around in her head, trying to make sense of them. Then, with a sudden mewling sound from her throat, she managed to say, “That's really all you wanted?”  

“That's all. I am old, Cor, and we've spoken too little of love in our house.” He took another bite of his unsalted supper. His hand shook. “That was my failing, I suppose. Perhaps if I’d said it, you girls would have thought to say it back.”

“But father!” gasped Coriander, “That’s not right. We've always known we loved one another! We've shown it a thousand ways. Why, I've spent the last year cataloging them in my head, and I've still not even scratched the surface!”

The king sighed. “Perhaps you will understand when your time comes. I knew, and yet I didn't. What can you really call a thing you’ve never named? How do you know it exists? Perhaps all the love I thought I knew was only a figment.”

“But that’s what I’ve been afraid of all this time,” Coriander bit back. “How could you doubt? If it was real at all– how could you doubt?”

The king’s weathered face grew still. His eyes fell shut and he squeezed them. “Death is close to me, child. A small measure of reassurance is not so very much to ask.”

.

Coriander slept in her old rooms that night. None of it had changed. When she woke the next morning, for a moment she remembered nothing of the last two years. 

She breakfasted in the garden with her father, who came down the steps in a chair-lift. “Coriander,” he murmured. “I half-thought I dreamed you last night.”

“I’m here, Dad,” she replied. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Slowly, the king reached out with one withered hand and caressed Coriander's cheek. Then, his fingers drifted up to what remained of her hair. He ruffled it, then gently tugged on a tuft the way he'd used to playfully tug her long braid when she was a girl. 

“I love you,” he said.

“That was always an I love you, wasn’t it?” replied Coriander. “My hair.”

The king nodded. “Yes, I think it was.”

So Coriander reached out and gently tugged the white hairs of his beard. “You too,” she whispered.

.

“Why salt?” The king was sitting by the fire in his rooms wrapped in two blankets. Coriander was with him, enduring the sweltering heat of the room without complaint. 

She frowned. “You like honesty. We have that in common. I was trying to be honest–accurate–to avoid false flattery.”

The king tugged at the outer blanket, saying nothing. His lips thinned and his eyes dropped to his lap. Coriander wished they wouldn’t. She wished they would hold to hers, steely and ready for combat as they always used to be.

“Would it really have been false?” the king said at last. “Was there no other honest way to say it? Only salt?”

Coriander wanted to deny it, to give speech to the depth and breadth of her love, but once again words failed her. “It was my fault,” she said. “I didn’t know how to heave my heart into my throat.” She still didn’t, for all she wanted to. 

.

When the doctor left, the king was almost too tired to talk. His words came slowly, slurred at the edges and disconnected, like drops of water from a leaky faucet. 

Still, Coriander could tell that he had something to say. She waited patiently as his lips and tongue struggled to form the words. “Love you… so… much… You… and… your sisters… Don’t… worry… if you… can’t…say…how…much. I… know.” 

It was all effort. The king sat back when he was finished. Something was still spasming in his throat, and Coriander wanted to cry.

“I’m glad you know,” she said. “I’m glad. But I still want to tell you.”

Love was effort. If her father wanted words, she would give him words. True words. Kind words. She would try… 

“I love you like salt in my food. You're desperately important to me, and you've always been there, and I don't know what I'll do without you. I don’t want to lose you. And I love you like the soil in a garden. Like rain in the spring. Like a hero. You have the strongest shoulders of anyone I know, and all I ever wanted was to be like you…”

A warm smile spread across the old king’s face. His eyes drifted shut.

[izzyspussy]

why are they laughing at him as he gets straight up killed??? he doesn't deserve this! he's a sweet kid at heart! he literally just needs one (1) real friend!!

[juniperhillpatient]

I have talked about this a lot before but it’s on my mind & also it’s something that really should be discussed more in Buffy fandom -

People are constantly talking about how Spike defies all the rules Buffy was taught about demons & vampires & rightfully so. A vampire falling in love with a slayer & fighting for his soul for her is such a romantic notion & I do love it but the nuance of Spike’s arc is even more interesting than that! He does love Buffy but not only that he befriends the Scoobies too. He brings flowers for Joyce after she dies. He helps prove that Tara is not a demon when her family tries to gaslight her & isolate her. He becomes a pseudo big brother to Dawn.

And yet none of that is even what I’m here to talk about! Spike IS a hero & he does have a long spanning redemption arc before the soul (& we’re NOT here to talk about Seeing Red right now, as usual that topic is too expansive & requires its own post) that should be acknowledged & his character is rightfully praised but he is NOT the only exception to vampires having nuance & it drives me crazy that we act like he is. The Judge isn’t just talking to Spike when he says this:

“You TWO.” He’s talking about Drusilla too! He says that they share affection & jealousy. That Angelus in his total sociopathic lack of human emotion is the odd one here.

Then you have things like this -

Conversations with Dead People has Buffy sharing a very long & deep conversation with an old acquaintance turned vampire. And it’s far from the only example in universe of a vampire retaining some sense of camaraderie with people from their life!

That’s right this entire rant has been a lead up to talk about my best girly Harmony Kendall. You’ve fallen for my ruse if you’ve read this far muahaha! Admittedly Harmony’s strongest moments are mostly unfortunately on Angel but even in season four of Buffy when she dates Spike she is clearly intended at times to be sympathetic. Season 4 is also interesting because we see a lot interactions between various gangs of vampires like Harmony’s so-called minions & even Sundays gang where they’re very much evil but also sharing in living (existing?) space & acting like bickering roommates or siblings. Like creatures with bonds & personalities & intricacies.

The point I’m trying to make is that the show never truly wants to grapple with the existence of Spike in all his nuance but it’s also not just about him! In general there is so much to grapple with in the idea that vampires can change & be redeemed & I’m not saying I’m anti scary evil vampires I’m just saying the universe gave us these hints of nuance & then the characters never grappled with it & that’s lame. For Buffy killing things that have a shot at redemption however small would be a major emotional blow if she ever addressed it! Especially in her season 5 “am I just a killer 🥺” arc. Let’s deal with the implications!

Let’s deal with Xander’s trauma about killing Jessie & just how much it would/should hurt for him to see Spike increasingly choose good & work with the Scoobies. I would LOVE to know Xander’s reaction to Harmony’s arc on Angel or Cordelia befriending her & letting her go ina world where the writing acknowledges that he drove a stake through his best friends heart!

It’s just that the writers accidentally complicated their own lore & then totally refused to ever let their characters address what the cracks in the stories they tell themselves mean. Giles says that a vampire is no longer the person but instead the thing that killed them. What’s scarier: the idea that your loved one was killed & something wears their face like a mask OR much more insane (to me) the idea that your loved one came back very wrong but it’s still them? Your brother eats people now but he still remembers how you like your eggs & can quote every episode of the cartoon you watched as kids. Your mom murdered that woman from the PTA who always talked too much in cold blood but she still remembers the recipe for your favorite pancakes. The show wanted scary vampires but it got so caught up in never addressing the infinitely more complex & scarier vampires it accidentally created & sticking to the more simplistic initial idea that it did both the characters & lore very dirty. And I’ll never shut up about it!!!

[team-avia]

Interview with the Vampire(s)

You flipped open to a fresh page in your journal, a newly sharpened pencil in your hand, with two more tucked precariously behind each of your ears, and another one shoved in the front pocket of your lab coat.

The room was dark, save for the lone candle illuminating the desk at which you and your guest sat at. Rain pattered behind the closed window, branches moving in the slight wind.

“I have some questions I'd like to ask you, about yourself, about Novit,” you told the person sitting in front of you. They held a long and delicate looking porcelain pipe in their hand, sweet smelling wafts of smoke pouring from their lips as they exhaled.

“I will answer any questions you have to the best of my ability. Though this knowledge is not something you should share readily with the humans in your world.”

You nodded your head. You understood how dangerous this information could be falling into the wrong hands. But you also knew how big a wave this could make in all the fields of science. You'd be a fool to pass up this opportunity.

Clearing your throat, you pressed your pencil to the page. “For now, I merely need a few details about yourself.” More in depth questions would come later once you knew what to ask about this mysterious new world and its occupants.

“My name is Cordelia,” the woman in front of you spoke, her piercing blue eyes glowing in the dark. She held herself with a sense of importance. “I am the head of this coven, and I own Corville manor. I am originally from a beautiful and serene island country called Yupin, before moving to Piedamonte to fulfill my duties.”

You scribbled down her words.

“I keep the peace between your world and Novit, and have been doing so for many decades. I have seen both the truimphs and horrors of man and I seek to prevent tragedy from befalling either worlds. Though there are those of my kind that seek to bring about chaos. It is why the rest of the coven and I fight diligently to keep them away.”

The scene changed and another vampire had taken Cordelia's place. This vampire wore a charming grin on their face, long brown hair swept up into a ponytail. “My name is Natalie and I hail from Cuniso, an island nation that curates the pursuit of knowledge. I feel you would love it there very much, given your curious mind.” She flashed you a bright grin. “Perhaps I could take you on a date and show you around sometime?”

You flushed at her words, clearing your throat awkwardly as you turned back to your notes.

“What do you do in the coven?”

“You could call me Cordelia's right hand person. She gives us orders and I make sure everyone falls into line to follow them. I'm a peacekeeper of sorts in the group.” She placed a hand to her chest, proud of this fact. “Someone has to keep Victoriqua in check. You know how Drunians get.”

“Natalie said they were Cordelia's right hand person?!” the red head's nostrils flared as she crossed her arms over her chest tightly. “I'm Cordelia's right hand person! I was there almost from the start, helping her build this coven, helping her build the defenses to keep the humans safe!”

“Uh, could we maybe move on from-” you began, not wanting to continue listening to this rant.

“I'm going to find her and shove my fist up her-”

“Where are you from?” you interjected loudly. Victoriqua glared at you.

“You're trying to distract me from giving her an ass kicking and it's not working.”

She hurried away from her chair, making it rock back and forth, before she slammed the door to the room shut. You sighed, wondering how badly things would go after this.

Willow was next and she sat stiffly in her chair, a semi vacant look in her eyes. You could hear crashing noises and muffled screams in the distance and you really hoped that someone would intervene between Victoriqua and Natalie.

“Mind telling me a bit about yourself?” you asked Willow hopefully.

The woman with white hair and dark circles under her eyes, sighed gently to herself. “I am Willow of Prevenio. I have been alive longer than several generations of your family.” Her voice was whispery, scratchy, as if she didn't use it often.

“Why did you join the coven?”

“What other option did I have?” she poised and you scratched your cheek with eraser of your pencil. Huh?

“Willow-”

“I must leave,” she said, already pushing her chair back. “The mirrors need a freshening.”

Now what did that mean?

Willow was barely out of the door when another vampire bounded into the room, sitting down hard and fast in the chair, almost crushing it with their strength.

“I'm Sierra!” she cheered, hand in the air, smiling sharp fangs at you. “I'm from Piedamonte.” She put her hand down. “I'll tell you anything and everything.”

“Are you...okay?” you asked in mild concern, noting the trickle of gold red on her shirt.

She glanced down. “Ah man, I'm gonna have to wash that. It's one of my favorite shirts too.” She looked up at you. “I'm fine. Vic-a-dic and Nat-a-lie we're going at it, so I kinda jumped in to give them the biz and they got annoyed I was getting involved so they chased me away and I had to run around the manor to lose them. Cordelia caught them tho and she gave them a thorough tongue lashing but it's all fine now cuz she made them apologize to me and I wasn't even mad at them.”

“Sounds like you were busy,” you said, noting this down.

“It's always a blast around here, human,” Sierra smiled. “Stick with us, and you'll never be bored...”

The candle on the desk flickered and gave out at this, throwing you both into the dark, leaving Sierra's pink eyes staring unnervingly back at you.

A little taste to give some more context about the setting and characters in MHD...

[bingwriterxo]

the shakespeare exhibit - part 7

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: in which tara accompanies you to a family party

warnings: homophobia/biphobia

word count: 4100+

author's note: longest thing i've ever posted. also, had to look up so many specific quotes for this one...

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"So, how many people did you say will be at this party?” Tara asked, looking out the window as you drove down another dirt road. Ever since the two of you had passed the city and made it off the highway, it had been all cornfields, farms, and forests. Tara knew one thing for sure: she would never live in the countryside of New York, even if you wanted to.

You shrugged behind the wheel, reaching out to lower the music a bit. One of Tara’s more ‘pop-y’ songs was on, and the bass was loud. “I’m not really sure,” you said, sparing her a glance before refocusing on the road ahead of you. “My parents know a lot of people, but I’m sure it won’t be more than…two hundred?”

Two hundred people?! Tara thought, her eyes widening. I have to meet two. hundred. people?!

“Don’t worry, though,” you continued quickly. “Only about fifty of that is family; the rest are family friends or work acquaintances, so you won’t have to talk to them if you don’t want to.”

Thank fucking god. “And can you give me a run down on the more immediate family again?”

“Well, there’s mom and dad, obviously.” You took a left, not bothering with your blinker because there was no one else around. However, rather than more dirt road, your tires were finally rolling against pavement. “Nathaniel and Edmund--but, you can’t call him ‘Edmund’; you have to say ‘Eddie’, or he’ll get upset.”

“And they’re identical, right?”

Trees were lining the pavement, perfectly spaced apart and shaped, and Tara readied herself to be met with your house. Except…it never came. You just kept driving and driving, and it seemed like there was no end in sight.

You nodded. “Yup--identical. You’ll be able to tell them apart, though. It’s easy.” You hummed as you thought. “Oh, baby Cordelia, of course, but only my father calls her by her full name.”

Your baby sister, Cordelia, or Lia, as she was called by most, was turning a year old that day, which was why you and Tara had made the drive up to your parents’ house. They were throwing a party for her, and an extravagant one at that.

“And then my father’s parents: Grandma Jane and Grandpa Thomas. They live in the house with everyone, but odds are you won’t meet them today. They like to spend their time in the wine cellar when we have guests.” You leaned toward her just slightly, like you were about to tell her a secret. “Grandpa Thomas has never been the biggest fan of…people. He’s a book guy, you know?”

Mom, dad, Nate, Eddie, Lia, Jane, Thomas. Tara nodded to herself as she made the mental note, determined not to get anyone’s name wrong. “Okay, and--”

Finally, your house started to show in the distance, and Tara’s jaw literally dropped. Even from where the two of you were, it was huge, and not just rich-person-huge but old-money-huge.

It was a large, shapely building made of blue brick; two large, white pillars stood near the front entrance and extended all the way up to the roof; windows upon windows were lined in white to match the rest of the house; vines flowed down from the roof, though they were neat and calculated, giving the house an old-vibe rather than a messy one.

Holy. Fucking. Shit, Tara thought as your house--if it could even be called a house--drew closer and closer. She stared in awe as you drove the two of you around the circular driveway, centered around a gorgeous fountain, and to the parking area, which was already overflowing with cars.

Once you parked, you turned to her, glancing down sheepishly. “I know it’s a lot,” you said, your voice soft. “The house, the party, the meeting everyone.” You inhaled deeply. “If you feel uncomfortable about anything at any time, just let me know and we can hide in my bedroom, okay? Or, if you need a moment alone, it’s up the stairs, to the right, fourth door on your left.”

She’s just too perfect. Tara grinned, that type of grin she only ever had when she was with you, and leaned across the center console, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I’m sure it’ll be great, baby.”

You flushed, the way you always did whenever she kissed you, even though she had kissed you a million times at that point; she never tired of the way the red painted your cheeks, or how you’d smile subconsciously.

“Okay.” You nodded and kissed her again for good measure. “Then let’s do this.”

You climbed out of the car, rounded the hood, and opened the door for Tara to step out. Always so chivalrous, she thought, grabbing the present that she had brought for your sister from the floor of your car. It was just a small toy, and she suddenly started to second-guess it as you led her toward the entrance.

As soon as she stepped into the house, marble flooring beneath her feet, she gulped. There were at least a hundred people there already, all having traveled to celebrate your baby sister, and they were scattered around, talking and laughing and drinking champagne. She was glad she had worn her nicest dress for the occasion, but even that didn’t seem nice enough.

I do not belong here, her mind whispered.

Before she could even utter a single word to you, all eyes turned, smiles and grins and furrowed eyebrows and tilted heads watching your every move. This is like a creepy cult movie. She glanced at you, somewhat surprised that you were relaxed as you waved.

“Hi, everybody!” you said, and there was a chorus of greetings in response.

Then, suddenly, there was pounding coming from upstairs, and two heads peeked over the banister, gleaming grins on each of their faces and identical in every way--except for their hair, Tara noticed quickly; one had his hair sticking out every which way while the other’s was combed down neatly.

“Y/N’s home!” the messy-haired one shouted. All eyes turned to them, fond smiles on everyone’s face as they stared up at the boys.

“‘A victory is twice itself when the achiever brings home full numbers!’” the other yelled. Okay, well, that one’s Nate, Tara thought, and she watched as they bounded down opposite stairs, their legs carrying them quickly so they could be the first to truly greet you.

They rammed into your waist, making you stumble back as you held them close. “Hi, boys,” you giggled, and everyone--everyone--laughed at the joy that was radiated from the three of you before going back to their conversations.

You hugged your brothers tightly before pushing them away slightly. You took Tara’s hand in your own, and her heart fluttered at the feeling of your warmth against her skin. “Nate, Eddie, this is Tar--”

“The girlfriend!” Eddie cheered.

Nate followed up with, “She’s beautiful, and therefore to be wooed!”

Does this kid only speak in Shakespeare? Tara wondered. Is that even possible?

“Hi, guys,” Tara said, smiling. “Nice to meet you.”

“To mingle friendship far is mingling bloods,” Nate replied.

“What this dork means,” Eddie started, elbowing his brother, “is that we can’t wait for you to become our sister-in-law!”

Sister-in-law?! She glanced at you, and you cleared your throat, unraveling your hand from hers and placing it on the small of her back. “Eddie, Nate, go find Nana and Pops.” You leaned down and whispered something to them, and both boys nodded fervently before rushing away.

“So, you talk about me to your brothers?” Tara teased, grinning at you.

You rolled your eyes lightly, carefully guiding her further into the house. “Don’t listen to a word they say. They’re--well, you met them.” A handful? she thought. Yes.

You passed by people, sparing short greetings or simple waves, until you stood with Tara in the kitchen. “And don’t mind Nate’s speech,” you said, chuckling. “He’s been in Shakespeare-mode ever since he got that part in the play. He only talks in quotes now, no matter what play they’re from.”

She hummed. “Reminds me of someone I know,” she said, leaning up to kiss you.

Just as you began to lean down, there was an excited squeal, and you pulled back quickly, eyes wide and landing on whoever had interrupted you.

“Mom!” you rushed out, blushing. Tara spun around, a nervous smile on her lips as she stared at your mother, who grinned right back.

“You must be Tara, sweetheart!” your mom said, pulling Tara into a hug. Okay! I guess this is a hugging family! She placed her hands on Tara’s shoulders, looking at her. “You’re even prettier than Y/N said!”

“Hi, ma’am--”

Your mother waved her off. “Oh, please. Just call me ‘mom’.” She grinned, and Tara realized that you had her smile. “I’m sure you’ll be in this family soon enough.” Tara felt herself pink at the words. I sure hope so.

“Mom!” you groaned from behind.

Your mom hummed. “Yes, well, I was just coming to grab another apple for your father. You know him,” she said. “Eats like he’s a horse,” she whispered to Tara.

You perked up at the mention of your dad. “Oh, Tara! Let’s go see him. I’m sure he has Lia, right, mom?”

“Yes, yes.” She was digging around the fridge. “I was so sure I bought more,” she muttered to herself.

You sidled up beside Tara and took her hand, leading her toward a different area of the house. There were even more people there, standing around one object and cooing. You squeezed past them all, offering ‘hello’s’ and ‘nice to see you’s’ as you did.

“Dad!” you exclaimed when your father came into view, Lia in his arms.

“Ah, the prodigal daughter returns,” your dad hummed. He wrapped an arm around you in a hug before handing you your sister. “Watch your hair,” he warned. “She’s in her pulling phase.”

As if on cue, Lia reached up and tugged at your ear, giggling when you groaned. “Lia! No pulling,” you mumbled. Tara grinned, butterflies stirring in her stomach at the sight. Talk about baby fever.

“And you’re Tara,” your father said, looking at her. He wasn’t an intimidating man at all, but Tara had heard how highly you spoke of him, and, needless to say, she was nervous.

Oh boy, she thought. Here we go.

“Hello, sir,” she said, sticking her hand out. I hope I’m not sweating. Please don’t be sweating.

He inspected her outstretched arm for a moment before laughing loudly and clapping a hand on her shoulder. “No handshakes for family, Tara!” He pulled her into a hug, just like your mother had. I have to become a part of this family. It’s a must. “And, gosh, don’t call me ‘sir’! That’s so formal! Just call me ‘dad’.” His voice was joyous, excited, and Tara understood immediately where you got your personality from.

“Okay,” she said with a nod. “...Dad…” It was weird, feeling the word slip from between her lips, but the man lit up upon hearing it.

“Tar, come here,” you called gently. She took a few steps until she was at your side, and grinned down at the baby in your arms. “Wanna hold her?”

“Oh!” Baby. Can’t drop it. That thing’s alive. “Sure.” It was a careful handoff as Lia settled into Tara’s arms, smiling up at her. She had the same eyes as you, who had the same eyes as your father, and Tara was immediately smitten. “Well, aren’t you just the cutest thing!”

And then, Lia was pulling at the ends of her hair, and Tara thought, Yeah. Maybe I don’t want a kid just yet.

“I’ll take her off your hands,” your father said, holding his arms out. Tara handed Lia back to him, watching as he stuck his tongue out, to which Lia laughed. “My little Cordelia,” your father sighed.

“She’s the favorite child now,” you whispered to Tara. “Come, let’s get something to drink.”

You took her not to the kitchen but to the bar, and Tara marveled the whole way as she caught sight of old paintings, framed poems, antiques that littered the walls. It wasn’t crowded in any way; it was all beautiful and exactly how she expected your house to look.

You ordered the two of you champagne, and the bartender didn’t say a word as he poured your drinks, handing them to you with a soft smile.

“So, that’s everyone. Like I said, my grandparents are probably hiding away in the wine cellar,” you said, taking a sip from your glass. “What’d you think?”

You’re the perfect mixture of your parents, she thought. Everything makes sense now. “They’re all lovely.”

You grinned. “I’m glad you like them. I can already tell they love you. Well, I could tell that from the moment I told them about you, but--”

Someone interrupted you.

“Y/N.” The voice was masculine, strong, stern, and Tara could sense a bit of pretentious asshole in his tone.

She spun around when you did and watched as your eyes landed on the man; you immediately straightened up, your shoulders tensing and your smiling fading into a tight-lipped greeting. She straightened up, too. I bet he’s a dick, she thought, eyeing him and internally scoffing at his stupid face.

“Connor,” you gritted out like it pained you.

Tara reached to take your hand, knowing that you sought touch in moments of stress, but, just barely, you moved away from her grasp. She felt her heart drop into her stomach. Who is this douche and why is he making her so…rigid?

You held your head a little higher and clenched your jaw. “Why are you here?”

He smiled, though Tara thought it looked more like a snarl. “Well, our parents are friends, so why wouldn’t we have been invited to Lia’s birthday party?”

That’s it, Tara promptly decided. I’m going to punch him by the end of the night.

“Right, of course.” You held your champagne glass a little tighter. “And how are you finding everything?”

“Oh, your parents throw lovely parties. Although, it’s not like I’m any stranger to them.” He took a sip of his wine and smacked his lips together. “I was surprised to find you here, actually.”

“It’s my baby sister’s birthday. Why wouldn’t I be here?” you asked.

He waved you off. “Your mother mentioned something about you having been busy--working a minimum wage job and whatnot.” The condescending nature of his words made Tara ball her hands into fists. If he doesn’t walk away in five seconds, I can’t be held responsible for what happens to his perfectly-straight, stupidly-white teeth. He turned to her, an eyebrow raised. “And this is…?”

Your worst fucking nightmare, douchebag, Tara thought, but she offered him the smallest of smiles instead, not yet knowing if she was allowed to make an enemy of him.

You startled, like you had just remembered that she was standing beside you, and slid your arm around her waist. Tara watched as Connor clenched his jaw at the action. Yeah, fuck you!

“Connor, this is Tara. My girlfriend.” He scoffed, loudly, and your hold on her tightened, your fingers digging into her hip. “Tara, this is Connor. He’s…a family friend.”

He hummed. “If that’s what you’d like to call us, then sure, Y/N.” Your name rolled off his tongue too comfortably for Tara’s liking, especially for how stand-offish you became around him. “So, still in your little…exploratory phase, then?” he asked in such a way that made your grip turn almost bruising and caused Tara’s stomach to turn unpleasantly.

“No, Connor,” you said. “I’m bisexual. There is no exploring.”

“Sure.” He chuckled like he didn’t believe you. “Perhaps the men at Blackmore are just less than satisfactory.”

“Okay, why don’t you--” Tara began, only to be cut off by you pulling her into you.

“Or perhaps Tara can just satisfy me more than you ever did,” you snapped.

Tara froze. What? Is he…did they date?

Connor furrowed his eyebrows in anger, his eyes turning dark as they set themselves on her. “Does she even come from money?” There was venom in his voice, the disgust in his expression not bothering to hide itself.

A shiver ran down Tara’s back, and she glanced at the floor, her skin suddenly feeling too small for her, the air seeming too thick to breathe in. From the moment she had stepped into your home, she had felt a little out of place, and now Connor was simply confirming that thought.

“Does that matter?” you seethed.

“Of course it does. When you come from families like ours, everything matters. I mean, if you’re serious about this whole…bisexual…thing, how could you know she’s not just using you?” His words were coming out fast, spit flying as he spoke, his cheeks flushing with rage. “At least with me, you knew there were no ill intentions.”

Using her? Tara thought, feeling herself shrink slightly. Ill intentions?

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, Connor.” Your voice was sharp and threatening, holding a warning behind it.

“I take it, then, that she doesn’t come from a family of the arts.” His eyes flickered down before glancing back up again. “Or any family that matters.”

There was a beat of silence, a pause in which Tara could feel anger radiating from you and shame filling her every vein, and it was strange. She pulled herself from your grasp, mumbled out, “I have to use the bathroom,” and rushed away with teary eyes. Away from him, away from the party, away from you.

Faintly, she could hear you calling her name, and then a few angry shouts, but she wasn’t paying attention. She was focused on squeezing past people and slipping upstairs to your bedroom, her hand fumbling around in her purse for her inhaler.

Fuck, where is my inhaler? she thought as she tripped up the last step and stumbled down the hall, counting one, two, three, doors on her left until she found the fourth—your bedroom. She shut the door behind her and leaned against it, rummaging through her purse in a panic as she tried to blink back her tears.

When she finally caught hold of her inhaler, she took two puffs and threw her head back, groaning. Stupid. Thinking I could fit in here. Thinking this was all normal. Stupid.

There was a knock on the other side of the door; then, a voice, soft and careful. “Tara?” She could hear some shuffling out in the hall. “Tara, dear?”

Tara straightened. Is that her mom? she wondered. What is her mom doing here right now?

“Could you let me in, Tara?”

Tara wiped beneath her eyes and, with a heaving sigh, turned around and opened the door, her shoulders slumping slightly at the sight of your mother’s worried face.

“I saw you run off, dear,” your mom started, taking a hesitant step forward, “and Y/N was nowhere in sight, so I thought I’d come check on you.”

This whole family is just too good. “I’m alright,” she lied through her teeth.

Your mother hummed and ventured further into the room, sitting on the edge of your bed with her legs crossed over one another. “I saw you and Y/N speaking to Connor Harris.” Her face soured as she spoke his name, and Tara smiled softly at that. “I’ve never liked that boy, but Y/N’s father and his father have been friends since childhood.”

Tara swallowed. I need to know. I need to ask. “Were Y/N and Connor…were they together at some point?” she asked.

Your mom’s eyebrows furrowed and a frown pulled at her lips. “Dear, they were engaged. Has she not told you?”

It was like the world stopped for a moment. Engaged? Tara wanted to throw up. Her vision blurred immediately; a pit in her stomach formed; she could feel herself shaking. Engaged?! She was engaged?! To him?!

Your mother stood and, before Tara could say a word, wrapped her arms around her, holding her trembling body close. “Tara, honey. It is just a part of Y/N’s past, but she’s with you now, and that’s what matters.”

Oh my god, I’m being comforted by her mom right now, Tara thought. This is so embarrassing. She pulled away and sniffled, holding her head up. “Thank you, truly. I’m just…shocked that she never mentioned an engagement before.” How did she never tell me?

“Yes, well--”

“Tar?” your voice called from near the door. “You in here, bab--” You appeared in the doorway, stopping short at the sight of your mother and Tara in your bedroom together, with clear signs of Tara having cried. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“I’ll leave you two alone,” your mom said, squeezing your shoulder briefly as she exited.

You walked into the room, shut the door behind you, and stepped up to Tara, taking her cheeks in your hand. Your thumb rubbed beneath her eyes, wiping away any remnants of her tears. “What’s going on, sweetheart?” you asked, your voice gentle.

She clenched her jaw, her eyes flitting to the floor. “Your mom told me about…about you and Connor.”

You paled, your hands dropping slightly and your eyes widening. “Oh,” you muttered.

“You didn’t tell me you were engaged before,” she whispered. She took a step away, and you swallowed as your arms fell to your sides. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it’s not a big deal,” you said, biting your lip.

“Not a big deal?!” Her eyebrows furrowed. How could she think this isn’t a big deal? “You were engaged--set to spend the rest of your life with someone.” She waved her hand. “Set to spend the rest of your life with him! And you think that’s not a big deal, or something that you shouldn’t tell your girlfriend?”

“Tar, let me explain,” you pleaded. “Just, let me explain, please.”

She inhaled sharply. “Fine.”

You sighed in relief, blinked hard, and began. “He proposed to me at our high school graduation, up on the stage, in front of everyone. I--I didn’t want to embarrass him, or our families, so I said yes, and, technically, yes, we were engaged.” You shook your head, slumping onto your bed and holding your face in your hands. “I should’ve never said yes. We went home that night, and I told him I didn’t actually want to get married. Obviously, he didn’t like that, so he broke up with me.”

Tara’s face softened, her anger simmering. “You were engaged for…what…only a few hours?”

You nodded, glancing at her. “Yeah. That’s why I didn’t tell you, because it really isn’t a big deal. I mean, honestly? I hardly liked Connor anyway. I was with him because I thought my parents wanted that, but they don’t care.” You shrugged. “They just want me to be happy.” You stood, crossed the room, and took Tara’s hands in your own. “And you make me happy.”

Tara grinned, then glanced away sheepishly. “I’m sorry I kind of overreacted.”

You shook your head and pulled her into you, your arms wrapping around her shoulders. “No, I should’ve told you. And I’m sorry that I didn’t.”

“It’s okay,” she mumbled into your chest, sliding her own arms around your waist and hugging you tightly. You kissed the top of her head, and she hummed before another thought popped into her head. “Do you think you should be with someone who…has a family like this?” She pulled back and gestured to your room. “Who could afford all of this?”

“Tara,” you said softly, frowning. “I don’t care that your family isn’t in the high arts, or that your parents aren’t business magnates, or that you didn’t grow up the way I did. I love you.” You leaned down and kissed her. “Don’t let what Connor said get to you, okay? He’s a pompous dirtbag.”

Tara chuckled. “He is, isn’t he?”

“Yes. The biggest pompous dirtbag I know.”

She grinned. “I love you, too, by the way.”

“I do love nothing in the world so well as you--is not that strange?” you quoted, smiling.

She rolled her eyes. Always such a dork, she thought. My dork, though. “Are you sure you don’t love Shakespeare more than me?”

You hummed, tilting your head like you were weighing your options, and she scoffed lightly. “I’m kidding. I’m kidding. I’ll always love you more than I love Shakespeare, baby.”

“Good.” Tara bit back her smile. “Does that mean you’ll get a statue bust of me?”

“...I’ll think about it.”

bonus: “so, when you and our sister get married, will you take her last name?” eddie asked, swinging his feet from where he sat at the table in the ballroom.

“eddie--” tara began, only to be interrupted by nate, who sat on the other side of her.

“get thee a wife, get thee a wife!” he exclaimed.

“we’re only 19, guys,” she tried.

“okay, and?” eddie asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

“do you not love my sister?” nate asked, and tara was thankful that, for once, his shakespeare quote sounded normal.

she glanced around, looking for you, but you were talking to one of your aunts on the other side of the room. she leaned down and gestured for both boys to come closer. “i’ll tell you guys a little secret. when we do get married, i plan to take her last name.”

they grinned at each other across tara.

“knew it!” eddie cheered.

[takemebacktowheniwassane]

i've been seeing a lot of falsettos posts recently deconstructing the fandoms beliefs and firstly

holy fuck thank you, i try to steer clear of fandom (and fandom-izing thereof) drama but this is getting a lot more visible recently so here's some little tidbits for you

whizzer brown is not an unflawed character!

okay so i haven't seen enough dissecting this but!!! in the chess game!

the whole point of marvin using that game to determine the ending of their relationship is because he suspects whizzer is constantly deceiving him and wants to prove it.

whizzer LITERALLY proves him right!

he asks marvin to help him along (yes i know he says he doesn't want help, hear me out, it's a little more complex than that) and takes advantage of the fact that marvin is- like- infatuated with him.

he draws him into a sense of false security then starts throwing accusations at him ("since you need a man!" "what?" "who's 'brainy'," "or witty, move.") until hes able to win, which he does with ease because he's been using marvin having this idea that he isn't smart against him.

of course, marvin's side of this isn't the best either but honestly, for once the fandom should focus on a different character when they think 'insane asshole'. typically we should also probably change our perspectives a little to be more unbiased cuz fr guys, this is getting really.. annoying.

i understand he's the most visibly flawed but that doesn't excuse constantly picking the worst parts of this musical (without other context, btw) to use against him.

and this post certainly isn't here to excuse anyone either i've just got a lot of opinions that i wanted to share while falsettos is.. trending? right?

2. marvin's (headcanoned but still somewhat researched) autism

this one isn't brought up as much but when i do see it around, it's kind of a skewed viewpoint.

while rewatching bits of the proshot i realized a lot of different neurodivergent traits that he shows-

he's helpless during I Never Wanted to Love You and is childish and regressive when he's upset (not every autistic person is like this either, i know this is a bit of a touchy subject so i just wanted to add that).

usually when people depict it i see it either toned down or joked about which is fine when all in good fun, and when its done respectfully.

not here to attack anyone, just here to point it out and say that yes :) he most likely is neurodivergent, but despite that his actions aren't condoned. he's still kinda a dick who needs to get his shit together

3. ..the lesbians also have shit going on?

just putting this out there- I DON'T SEE ENOUGH FOR THE LESBIANS! OR TRINA!

the girls in this musical are like thoroughly neglected and i think that's kind of shitty just assuming the fact that william finn put them in to demonstrate how gender roles put people in degrading positions (and he even makes it more prevalent by showing marvin as something like a misogynistic character who forces whizzer into more feminine roles to show the audience what woman have to/had to go through in society).

anyways, the lesbians aren't just there guys. they have a plotline too. in Something Bad is Happening, you derive a lot from charlotte singing about the outbreak of HIV/AIDS and realize how she operates on a daily basis (she's passionate about her work and takes every bad day as a hit to her life and career, explaining in a way that as a black, jewish, lesbian, FEMALE doctor in this time, everything that goes wrong is immediately brought down on her so much more than it would as any straight white male pharmacist-).

cordelia on the other hand has to handle the fact that her girlfriend is so adamant about her work ethic that she can't actually be super present in their relationship at times like that.

but either way she still sticks by her and is constantly trying to be supportive and endearing despite feeling like she's not amounting to her gf who's basically a hero in her eyes.

i kinda just wanted to bring that up because they mean a lot to me and they don't get enough love from the fanbase, thank you for listening to my TED talk <3

[chimcess]

→ Chapter Eleven: Following Rivers Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Werewolf!Jimin, Witch!Reader, Shifter!Reader, Shifter!Jimin, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha!Jimin Genre: Supernatural!AU, Werewolf!AU, Angst, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Smut, Word Count: 16.1k+ Synopsis: Within the four realms of Lustra lay the Bangtan forest home to the Foxglove pack of the south and known as the “land of magic.” It is also home to the Bridd, a powerful witch from a cursed bloodline who is one of the sacred guardians of the forest. Y/N is the newest Bridd, a young girl who was given her position too early. Now a woman, Y/N is revered amongst the wolves as the most powerful witch they have ever known, but hiding under the surface is a woman who has to battle between her duty and her heart. Warnings: ANGST, strong language, PTSD, flashbacks, self-hate, self-depreciation, talks of death, everyone is going through it, getting to know some more characters, love-triangle, Jin is being kind of a dick, I promise we'll start seeing more Jimin as this goes on but he's just really depressed right now, Sam is a HUGE flirt, Kook is a vibe and I love him, Secrets to be reveled later, disabilities are going to be a huge part of Yoongi's life now and his arc so bear with a lot of that being in his povs, he's my favorite person in this series (so far, later you'll meet by baby for life), possibly wrong medical terminology, sexism and misogyny will be hinted at, everyone is going through it, lots of grief and heartache, Babyboy just wants his best friend back, mourning her life she's dead, let me know if I missed anything... A/N: Thanks for reading <3

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Yoongi's POV

The night was too loud—everything was loud—like the world had turned up the volume just to drown me out. Crickets chirped incessantly, their sharp songs digging under my skin. Somewhere in the darkness, the witches chanted, their voices twisting together like secrets I wasn't supposed to hear. I sat on the porch, my fingers tracing the worn grooves in the wood. It used to calm me when I was a kid. Now it just felt... empty. Everything did.

The stars above were a blur, smudges in a sky that once looked like magic. Now it was just a cruel haze—a kind of blindness that let me glimpse shapes and light but never enough to truly see. The battle with the elves had left me like this. Half-blind, half-alive. And I didn't know which half was worse.

My porch used to be our refuge. I could almost hear Y/N beside me—her laughter mingling with the fireflies dancing around us in Moland. But I couldn't picture her smile anymore, and that hurt more than anything else. Her memory was slipping away along with my vision, leaving only empty outlines where something bright used to be.

There was a party going on somewhere in the yard. The witches were celebrating Wendy's new role as head witch and our recent win against the elves. We would've done it sooner, but after Cordelia's death, any idea of joy felt wrong. I thought it was still too soon for something like this, but Wendy seemed up for it, and Jin went into full planning mode the moment she smiled. Their laughter and shouts made my head hurt. Some of them had offered to hang out with me back here, but I didn't want the company.

Pretending to be happy with near strangers wasn't something I could do.

I heard footsteps approaching—slow, hesitant. It was my mother. She didn't say anything at first, but I felt her warmth beside me. I avoided looking at her; everything looked like an old black-and-white film from Northorn, and it broke my heart every time I saw her without color. "Yoongi," she said softly, her hand resting lightly on my shoulder. So light it was almost not there. But it was. Everything felt heavy now. "How are you holding up?"

I exhaled, the sound shaky. "I'm not," I finally said, the words coming out more bitter and broken than I intended. "I don't even know why I should try to hold on anymore."

Her hand tightened on my shoulder. "We've been through so much," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "But we're still here, Yoongi. That means something."

Does it? I thought. I didn't say it, but the weight in my chest felt suffocating. Carrying it another day seemed impossible, and the thought made me want to scream. "I miss her," I whispered instead, your name lodged in my throat. "She always knew what to do."

My mother sighed, her fingers brushing my arm. "She did," she agreed quietly. "But she wouldn't want you to carry this alone. You've still got people who care about you. Jin—"

I flinched at his name, cutting her off. "He doesn't need me. Not when he has Wendy to think about."

"That's not true," she said firmly. "You don't have to do this alone, Yoongi. Let him help you."

"Wen's mom died," I reminded her.

"I understand that. Dee meant a lot to me. I've known her my entire life. But you're hurting, too," she replied thickly. "You've been doing your best to make him happy through all of this. He's just lost right now. Bring him back."

I stayed silent. The idea of reaching out felt impossible—a weight I wasn't ready to lift. The silence stretched between us, her hand on my shoulder more burden than comfort. "I'm tired," I muttered, leaning forward and resting my face in my hands. "I don't know if I can do this right now. Or ever."

I groaned, rubbing my eyes. The blur gave me migraines. "I don't think I can do anything anymore."

"You can," she insisted, her voice steady. "You're stronger than you think, and it's okay to let others be strong for you."

I didn't argue, but her words felt hollow. Letting people help me wouldn't prepare anyone for the war. Wouldn't fix the shining. I wanted to tell her how empty it all felt, how each day was a battle to find a reason to keep going. But what would that change? She couldn't fix this. No one could.

And the last thing I wanted was to worry my mother more than she already was.

Footsteps again—lighter this time. Wendy. Mom kissed my cheek, patted my shoulder, and headed back inside Mi-Jeong's house. If there was one good thing about staying here, it was how close Mom and Hoji had gotten with Jimin's mother. Even I had to admit I liked her. She made me laugh and went out of her way to make the house easier for me to navigate while we figured out a way to fix my eyes.

Once Ji-Hyun left to stay with Callisto's family just outside the gates, things got a bit quieter. Jin and I hadn't spoken much since everything settled; he was too busy helping Wendy take over as the head witch of her coven. Before Ji-Hyun left, we'd teamed up against the wolf a few times. His wife was the only reason we didn't confront him more.

Callisto was sweet and gentle, fiercely loyal to her husband and his whims. Ji-Hyun held a grudge against Y/N for reasons he wouldn't share. His wife, despite his silence, didn't let him off the hook if he even thought about saying something rude about her. He'd calmed down considerably before they moved out, but I had a feeling it was more for his mother's sake than any real remorse.

"Yoongi?" Wendy's voice cut through the thick silence, cautious. She stopped a few feet away, her figure a blur of gray against the darker gray of the night. "Are you okay?"

I almost laughed—a bitter, hollow sound. "No," I said flatly. "But I guess that's just how it is now."

She moved closer, her presence warm but almost suffocating. Everything was shades of gray, like the world had been drained of color. My eyes were still healing, leaving everything hazy and indistinct. "We're here for you if you need anything," she said, echoing my mother's words. "Jin and I—"

"Don't," I interrupted, my voice low and rough. "You know just as well as I do that Jin isn't here for me as long as you're around. So spare me the speech."

Her silence hurt more than any response could have. She sat beside me, her shoulder just brushing mine. I kept my gaze down; the porch beneath us was a washed-out gray, the wood grain barely visible through the blur. "He cares about you a lot, Yoongi," she said softly. "Even if it doesn't feel that way. Even when he's being... difficult."

I wanted to believe her. I wanted to feel something—anything. But all I felt was the same hollow ache that had settled in since that night. I nodded slightly, enough to make her think I was listening, but my eyes remained fixed on the indistinct, grey shapes at my feet.

Laughter drifted over from next door—too bright, too alive. It sounded out of place in this monochrome world. All I could do was sit there. It was so pathetic I wanted to cry.

"You know," Wendy said gently, her voice tinged with hope, "I've been trying to get him to talk to you more. Maybe if you put in a little effort, it could help. I know he misses you."

"Doesn't matter how much he loves and misses me," I muttered. "You're his top priority now, Wendy."

"But you should be, too," she insisted, her fingers lightly touching my arm. Her hand was a pale shade against the darker fabric of my sleeve. "Promise me you'll at least try?"

I nodded again, a mechanical gesture more for her benefit than mine. "Okay," I murmured, the word scraping out of my throat. "I'll... try." It was a lie, one I didn't even believe.

Wendy's hand rested on mine, warm against the cold that had settled into my bones. It should have been comforting, but now it was just... there. The lack of color made everything feel distant, unreal. Wendy had been a great comfort to me when we were younger, but now, after everything that happened, it just felt wrong. She shouldn't be here with me. If there was any hope that Jin and I could remain friends, she needed to stay as far away from me as possible.

But Wendy either didn't know or didn't care. When I talked to Jungkook about it, he said she was just naïve. Sam called her selfish. That made me laugh. It was something Y/N always said about her, too. I think everyone had at one point or another. Even Cordelia.

The name sent a shiver down my spine. It was ironic that I was calling Wendy selfish when her mother had died just weeks ago, and she was here comforting me. Jin was right. I was a bad friend who only thought about himself.

"You're not alone," she repeated, her voice steady.

I swallowed hard, my throat aching. Alone? I'd never felt more alone. Even with her beside me, it didn't change the hollow ache inside. The world around us was a blur of grays, shadows without definition. "I feel like I am," I admitted, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

"Don't say that," she said firmly. "You're still part of the family. You're still you."

Still me. What did that even mean anymore? The person I was before felt like a stranger. My fists clenched, the grainy image of my hands tightening in my lap. Frustration bubbled up. "Wendy," I began, my voice rough. "What if this is it? What if we never find a cure? What if I'm stuck like this forever? Then what?"

"Then we'd figure it out," she said softly.

"There is no 'we,'" I snapped, taking a deep breath to steady myself. The motion made the hazy edges of my vision swim. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice my outburst. "Mom would have to move back to Bangtan, and while everyone else is playing house, I'd be stuck as the blind cripple who needs his mommy."

"Don't talk about yourself like that," Wendy said sharply. "Even if it doesn't feel like it, you matter to us. You're still the most valued person here. What do you think everyone is celebrating right now?"

I stayed quiet. Her words didn't reach the part of me that felt like it had crumbled to dust. The grayscale world around me felt empty, lifeless. It was easier to retreat into the numbness, to hold onto the pain because at least it was familiar.

"You, Yoongi," Wendy's grip on my arm tightened. Her face was a pale blur, but I could sense the intensity in her gaze. "You single-handedly took down more elves than anyone here. You sacrificed your body for us. Why do you think Jin's being a jerk? He feels insecure and inadequate next to you. You've never known how incredible you are, have you?"

I wanted to tell her I hadn't, but I kept my mouth shut. We were treading dangerous ground, and I prayed no one else heard what she said. The sea coven was full of gossipers, and I worried Jin would hear about it. I didn't want to fight with him.

"Thank you," I whispered eventually, the words thin and weak. The night pressed down, the grayness seeping into everything. My thoughts drifted to Y/N—her laughter, her vibrant presence that seemed to bring color to everything. Without her, everything felt impossible. Without her, I felt... nothing.

I knew if she were here, I'd be doing a lot better right now. Y/N and I had a bond deeper than any other I'd ever had. Samanya was becoming a close second, but we had a few cultural differences that made it hard to get as close. She was also one of the most beautiful beings I'd ever seen, her image in my mind a vivid contrast to the muted world before me.

There were only two others who'd ever made me feel the same way: Delta and a man here I refused to acknowledge existed half the time. The impossibility of that relationship made it easier to pretend that just the sight of him didn't make my heart race. Like I didn't watch him like a stray dog hoping for scraps. He never noticed. Of course he didn't.

Wolves didn't practice homosexuality. When I asked Jungkook about it, he said it was viewed as a mental illness. Mates were for breeding, and a wolf who didn't want to continue the bloodline was so out of the ordinary they didn't think it could be natural. Y/N had explained something similar before, but she didn't know all the ins and outs like the young omega did.

"I miss her," I muttered, my chest aching. "She made it all easier."

Wendy's voice softened, her grief barely hidden. "We all miss her. But she wouldn't want us to stop living. She'd want us to keep going."

"Going where?" I asked, my voice cracking. "What's the point if everything just ends?"

"The point is we're still here," she said gently.

I didn't answer. The world around me was a sea of gray shadows, the party sounds muffled and distant.

"Yoongi," she said after a moment. "I know it's hard. I know you feel like you've lost everything. But you haven't. You're just... hurting right now."

I wanted to argue, but the fight was gone. I just sat there, staring into the hazy blur of a world I couldn't fully see, feeling like a stranger to myself.

The night stretched on, Wendy beside me—a flicker of warmth in the endless gray. I didn't know if I believed her, but for now, I'd let her stay. For now, I'd let myself breathe. It was all I could do.

Eventually, Wendy stood up, leaving me alone. The party was still in full swing, a large bonfire crackling, casting shifting shadows in shades of gray. A group of women gathered around it, their figures indistinct. I watched Wendy find Jin, saw the way she fit under his arm—their forms blending into one another in my blurred vision. Either he hadn't seen us or was choosing to ignore it.

I hoped it was the latter.

I leaned back against the rough wood of the porch, every nerve weighted down by a relentless exhaustion. It wasn't just my body that felt broken—it was everything. The world, my place in it, me.

I'd lost count of the nights spent like this—stranded in the dark, drowning in thoughts I couldn't escape. For the first time, I felt like I understood Y/N's nightmares. When they were at their worst, I'd sleep in her bed to wake her up, and she'd spend hours telling me how horrible and guilty she felt for being so angry and upset all the time. She never called herself a burden, but now that I was in her shoes, I knew that's what she meant.

I knew she was fine and alive out in Lustra somewhere, but it didn't stop my mind from mourning her as harshly as I'd mourned Cordelia at her memorial service on the shores of Syrena. Maybe even more. I loved Wendy's adoptive mother, but I didn't know her as well as I should have. Y/N was my best friend, and her absence was gnawing away at whatever sanity I had left.

Minutes—maybe hours—dragged by, each one heavier than the last, until the soft sound of footsteps cut through the quiet. They were barely there, and if my ears weren't so tuned in to what was happening around me, I wouldn't have heard them at all. Then I caught the faint scent of mist and wet grass. I knew who it was before she spoke.

Minutes—maybe hours—dragged by, each one heavier than the last, until the sharp sound of footsteps pulled me from my thoughts. They were barely audible, but I'd become attuned to every little noise. Then I caught the faint scent of mist and wet grass. I knew who it was before she spoke.

"Mind if I sit?" Sam's voice was brisk. When I looked up, her face was a pale oval against the darker grays of the night. I wished I knew what color her eyes were. They were the only thing I wasn’t confident in my guesses about. They were light, but I could not tell you what shade they really were. She'd always been beautiful, but tonight there was something different—something that made me appreciate her even more.

Her eyes were a soft gray, her hair a dark shadow framing her face. I knew that if I ever got my full sight back, she'd be even more striking. But for now, it was nice to be around someone when appearances didn't really matter. She didn't seem to mind helping me navigate or putting up with my bad moods, either.

Sam was nearly perfect. It was just too bad I had someone else in mind when we weren't together.

Those dimples were so deep I could make them out from the porch anytime he walked by...

"Go ahead," I muttered, nodding toward the spot Wendy had left.

She settled beside me with an ease that felt out of place next to my stillness, her energy humming softly between us. "You look like hell," she said bluntly. "What's got you in pieces this time, Yoongi?"

I let out a hollow laugh, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "This time?" I echoed, shaking my head. "It's always the same stuff." I gestured vaguely at the night—at nothing and everything. "Take your pick."

Her smirk faded slightly, and for a moment, I thought she might soften—but Sam wasn't the soft type. She never sugarcoated things, never pretended it would all be okay. Part of why I didn't push her away like I did the others. Yet, anyway. I'd already drawn the line about romance with her in my head, but I knew I was weak, and she made me feel comfortable. She reminded me so much of Delta...

No, I couldn't go there.

"Yeah, it's bad," she agreed, her voice steady. "But sitting here feeling sorry for yourself isn't going to change anything." She leaned closer, her breath warm against my cheek. "Staring at them will make Seokjin angry, you know."

I snapped my eyes away from the fire. I hadn't been looking at Jin or Wendy, but it wouldn't surprise me if Jin thought I was. He'd become more paranoid and distant these days.

I turned to her, bitterness bubbling up, unable to hold it back. "What do you want from me, Sam?" I didn't care if it made her uncomfortable—she'd chosen to sit here.

Then I felt bad again. That wasn't fair.

Sam didn't flinch. If anything, her gaze sharpened, unwavering and direct. "You think you're the only one feeling this?" she asked, her voice low. "You're not. We're all carrying it, Yoongi. The war, the losses, the uncertainty—it's wearing us all down."

"Then why don't you look like it?" I snapped, my fists clenching. "Why do you still act like there's something worth fighting for?"

"Because the alternative is giving up," she said simply. "And I've seen what that looks like. It's worse than this."

I scoffed, shaking my head. "Doesn't sound so bad right now."

She was silent for a moment, and when she spoke again, her voice held a rare gentleness. "You're not the first to feel that way. And you won't be the last. But giving up? It doesn't end the pain, Yoongi. It just spreads it. You think Wendy's okay? Or Namjoon? Or the rest of us?" She paused. "We're barely holding it together. But we're still here. And so are you."

The mention of his name made my pulse quicken, and Sam knew it. She only brought him up to get a rise out of me. Her spending time with him didn't help. The thought of both of them together—breathless, naked, sighing—was the first thing that had truly distracted me all day.

He was so... captivating.

I pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes—not that it mattered. Everything was just as hazy and muted as before. It was better at night. I could see things a little clearer. The sun made my eyes burn and itch, and I couldn't leave the house without shades. Taejin was kind enough to give me a few pairs.

"I'm not here, Sam," I whispered. "Not really. Without my sight, I'm a terrible fighter, and without that, what's left of me? I don't serve much use here."

She sighed softly. "You're still you, Yoongi. Maybe some things are different, maybe you're feeling lost. But you're still here. And as long as you are, you've got a chance to figure out who you'll be now. Life doesn't stop just because you want it to."

I wanted to argue, to push her away, but there was a stubborn truth in what she said.

"What do you want me to say, Sam?" I asked, the question slipping out more like a plea than I'd intended. "That I'm so messed up I can't even use magic? I keep trying, and nothing happens."

"You don't have to say anything," she said quietly. "I don't want anything from you. But maybe you should want something for yourself. You've lost a lot, but you haven't lost everything. You still have your mother. That's more than many here can say."

Guilt gnawed at me for snapping at Wendy earlier. It wasn't just Wendy, either. Jin had almost lost his father. Enver had nearly been killed multiple times in that fight. Sol, as much as I hated to admit it, had lost the only person she ever knew as family, and no one seemed to care. Taehyung, maybe, but I knew they weren't talking much. Countless others had fallen as well. Sam wasn't wrong—I was lucky to have my mother.

It didn't erase the fact that my life felt irreversibly damaged. I was the only witch with a permanent disability, the only one no one could heal. Maybe I had the right to feel a little bitter.

"I don't know how to do that," I murmured, barely audible. "How to want anything anymore."

She nodded, her expression unreadable in the grayscale blur of my vision. "Then start small. Want to survive. Want to see tomorrow. Want to believe things can get better. And if you can't want it for yourself, then want it for the people who still care about you."

I couldn't respond. Couldn't argue. After a while, Sam shifted closer, her movements deliberate but careful, like she was approaching a wounded animal. I didn't turn my head, didn't acknowledge her beyond the faint scuff of her boots against the porch. I didn't have the energy.

"You know, Yoongi," Sam said, her voice lighter than it had any right to be on a night like this, "I've always thought you were handsome."

"I know," I mumbled, barely more than a whisper, my voice worn thin. "You know how I feel about you already, just like every other person you’ve sunk your teeth into."

"You're my favorite," she chuckled softly. "You haven't even let me get that far yet. And your skin, those eyes..."

I rolled my eyes. No one ever liked me for my face, and I knew Sam would say anything if she thought I'd give in just a little. My body buzzed with anticipation that I forced down. I didn't know if I could handle something like that right now, even if it might feel good.

Sam's laugh faded, and her tone shifted. "I'm serious, Yoongi. You've got this whole mysterious, brooding thing going on. People like that."

I let out a bitter breath. "What people?" I muttered, shaking my head. Then, a faint smirk tugged at my lips. "I'm a blind guy who can't do magic. Who's lining up for that?"

"You'd be surprised."

I turned slightly toward her, a sigh escaping my lips. "You're relentless, you know that?"

"It's part of my charm," she said, and before I could respond, I felt her shift closer. Her breath was warm against my cheek, and then her lips brushed mine—soft, tentative, giving me a chance to pull away.

But I didn't.

Instead, I leaned into her, my fingers brushing against her arm as I kissed her back. It was brief, just a moment, but it felt like a small light flickering in the darkness. When she pulled away, I could still feel the warmth lingering, and it made me feel... something. Something other than emptiness.

"Thanks," she whispered, barely audible. "For letting that happen."

I swallowed, my throat tight, and nodded. "Thank you," I said softly. "For wanting it to happen."

She smiled—a gentle curve I could almost see in the hazy grayscale of my vision.

Silence settled between us, comfortable for once. I watched the party slowly disperse. Jin and Wendy passed by on their way back inside. Jin glanced down and grinned at me. He was probably happy to see Sam's head leaning on my shoulder. I didn't look to see Wendy's reaction. It didn't matter.

The ache in my chest didn't go away, but I did feel a little better than I had earlier.

Eventually, the last of the witches were gone, and the fire began to burn low. Sam was unusually quiet, but I think she knew I needed time to think. Watching the smoke curl up into the night sky, I tried to keep my mind off the sadder thoughts that seemed to be on repeat lately. Sam deserved better, and I was exhausted from it all. I needed a break.

The sharp creak of the front door pulled me from my thoughts, and Jungkook's familiar voice broke the quiet—loud and bright, just like always. I couldn't help the smile that tugged at my lips. He was exactly what I needed, even if I wasn't sure I could match his energy tonight.

"Guess who!" Jungkook called, bounding onto the porch, his grin as wide as ever. "Hope you two haven't died of boredom without me!"

Sam smirked, standing up and leaning against the railing, arms crossed. "Not yet," she shot back. "But the quiet was nice while it lasted."

I chuckled softly but stayed quiet otherwise. The silence had been nice, and I wasn't quite ready to let it go. Jungkook's energy filled the space, bright and insistent, but I could already feel how drained I was from earlier.

"Perfect!" Jungkook plopped a couple of bottles on the table with a clink. "That's why I brought reinforcements. Drinks to celebrate surviving another day in this lovely mess we call life."

"Getting drunk sounds nice," I muttered under my breath, the words tasting bitter. I didn't feel like we were surviving all that well—maybe it was just me. But alcohol? Alcohol I could manage.

Sam glanced at me, her expression unreadable, then turned back to Jungkook. "And you think drinks are going to solve everything?"

"No," Jungkook shrugged, undeterred. "But they won't make it worse, right? And besides, who says no to a little fun?"

I let out a hollow laugh, the sound cracking in the still air. "Fun," I said, shaking my head. "Don't know if I'll be much help with that."

Jungkook's grin faltered, his eyes flicking toward me, then away. "Hey, come on," he said, his voice softer now. "You're still here, Yoongi. That's gotta count for something."

The words landed like stones in my chest. I gripped the bottle he handed me, the cold glass calming me for a moment. "I guess so," I said, barely above a whisper.

Sam straightened, her teasing demeanor fading. "Yoongi..." she started, but I shook my head.

"I'm fine, Sam," I said, my voice sharper than I intended. "Just a rough day. Can we just crack open whatever the kid brought and have a good time?"

Jungkook shifted uncomfortably, his bottle clinking as he set it down. "We all have bad days," he said steadily. "You’ve been having a tough time lately, and I don't think it's fair for anyone to make you feel bad about it. I can leave if that's easier. You two seemed fine before I got here."

"It's fine, Kook," I chuckled, touched by his thoughtfulness. "It's not your fault I'm so..." I trailed off, unsure how to finish.

Jungkook's expression softened, and he reached over, giving my shoulder a gentle nudge. "Hey. We're all in this mess together, right?"

Sam sighed, stepping closer. "You're too busy shutting us out to let us help," she said quietly. "But we're not going anywhere, Yoongi. We're here."

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. Their words didn't fix anything. They didn't make the weight on my chest any lighter or the darkness any less suffocating. But for the first time in a long time, they made me feel less alone.

"Now, come on," Sam teased, nudging my shoulder just enough to pull me out of my spiraling thoughts. "You're being so depressing you've got Kook acting serious. That's a first."

"Hey, I can be serious," Jungkook protested, though his usual smile was back, not quite reaching his eyes. "But right now? I'd rather laugh with my friends than sit around dwelling on things I can't change."

I raised my bottle in a half-hearted toast. "Sometimes, laughter is all we've got."

Jungkook lifted his own bottle, grinning. "To laughter, and to the best friends a guy could ask for."

Sam rolled her eyes, but her smile was genuine. "Yeah, yeah. Don't get all mushy on us now."

We clinked our bottles together, the sound echoing softly into the night. The weight on my chest didn't disappear, but it felt a little lighter.

"I'll kick Chief Kim's ass for you in a heartbeat," Sam joked after taking a sip.

"And I'll turn Bo into a goat," I added, trying to keep the mood light.

Sam giggled. "We'd actually get some use out of her then."

"You two are so mean," Jungkook laughed, shaking his head.

"It's part of the charm," Sam shot back, her grin widening.

We finished our first drinks quickly, and Jungkook was more than happy to crack open a few more. The night was young, and the smell of the bonfire still lingered in Mi-Jeong's backyard. I used to love that smell, but now it brought back memories I didn't want—the kind that made me squeeze my eyes shut and remind myself that I was safe. That nothing bad was going to happen.

"So," Jungkook said, leaning forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "what's next? More drinks? Truth or dare? I want to make things interesting."

"Let's not get too wild," Sam warned, though the curiosity in her smirk betrayed her. "We've got enough chaos in our lives. Don't think we need any more drama."

"True," Jungkook agreed, his grin softening. "But hey, we might as well have fun while we can. Those bastards will be back eventually."

Sam's expression shifted, a playful glint in her eyes. "How about a round of 'Devil's Lie'? Ever played, Yoongi?"

I raised an eyebrow, the corner of my mouth twitching despite myself. "Who hasn't? Are you sure you're ready to lose?"

Sam laughed, leaning in so close I could feel her breath. "Try me," she challenged.

Jungkook let out a playful hoot. He'd always said he wanted Sam and me to end up together, something about "eternal happiness" for his only friends. Sam and I just laughed it off. She didn't do the whole marriage and kids thing, and I was perfectly happy without any strings attached.

Jungkook tilted his head toward the house. "Hang on. I'll go see if Momma Park has a deck lying around." He disappeared inside, leaving Sam and me in the warm night air.

A moment later, Jungkook returned, holding a slightly battered deck of cards in one hand, a triumphant grin on his face.

Sam helped me over to the small table on the porch. I could see it was a shade of a mid-tone grey, but the design—a dark shape curled up on itself—was still a bit blurry. I settled into a chair, trying not to cringe as Sam's chair dragged loudly against the wood.

"Alright, game refresher," Jungkook announced, setting the cards on the table. "The rules are simple: play a card face down and say what it is. If no one calls your bluff, the game moves on. If someone thinks you're lying and they're right, you drink. If you're telling the truth and they call you out, they drink. First to lose all their cards wins."

Sam's eyes lit up as she grabbed her drink. "Finally, a game I was born to win."

I smirked, picking up my bottle. "We'll see about that."

Jungkook shuffled the cards with surprising dexterity, then dealt them out. "Let's make it interesting," he added, grinning. "Every round starts with 'I bet the Devil,' because why not?"

Sam leaned forward, her grin mischievous. "Oh, this is going to get ugly."

Jungkook went first, laying down a card. "I bet the Devil... this is a seven of spades. Also, I had a crush on a teacher once."

Sam groaned. "Seriously? That's your big confession?"

"I think he's lying about the card," I interjected, squinting at him.

Jungkook turned it over with a flourish—it was a seven of spades. "Drink up, Yoongi."

I groaned as Sam burst out laughing. "I'm going to be so bad at this. I can't see your faces that well without the moonlight."

"I can get a lantern," Jungkook offered, but I shook my head.

Fire wasn’t as bad as direct sunlight, but my eyes were sensitive enough right now that it added some strain.

"I'll manage."

"My turn," Sam said, sliding a card down with theatrical flair. "I bet the Devil... this is a king of hearts. I've never been with a woman before."

I squinted at her, trying to gauge the truth. "The card's a lie," I said confidently. "And that story is complete bullshit, too."

She flipped it over—it was a king of hearts. "Nice try, Yoongi. Bottoms up!"

"What about the story?" Jungkook asked.

"Oh, a complete lie," Sam replied, already reaching for her drink.

Jungkook leaned back, watching us with a grin as I took a reluctant sip. "This is going better than I expected," he admitted, placing his next card. "I bet the Devil... this is an ace of clubs. And I never snuck out at night."

Sam snorted. "You're full of it. No one makes it to your age without sneaking out."

“Card?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Bullshit,” I said.

“Think he’s being honest about the card,” Sam waved me off.

Jungkook flipped the card over—it wasn't an ace. Sam cursed under her breath and took a long sip while Jungkook gave us a smug look. "Told you I've got a good poker face."

"Good boy," I teased, sticking my tongue out at him.

"Mom's favorite," he shot back with a grin.

Jungkook had some of the brightest smiles I'd ever seen. The only flaw was his slightly too-long front teeth, but even that suited him. Namjoon's were a close second, but I didn't see him smile enough to compare.

I wished I could see him smile more. He was always so... compelling.

The night carried on like that—the game quickly evolving from simple bluffs to playful confessions and outright ridiculous lies. By the end, we were leaning into each other, laughing so hard that tears pricked at the corners of our eyes. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough for now.

The dim light filtering through the tavern's grimy windows felt like tiny knives stabbing at my eyes, even from where I was tucked away in the corner. Without sunglasses, stepping into full daylight wasn't even an option—the pain just wasn't worth it. I hunched over my excuse for breakfast: rubbery eggs and toast so dry it could double as a coaster. Hunger insisted I try, but every bite tasted like last night—greasy, regretful, and tinged with the bitterness of too much ale and too little honesty.

I pushed the plate aside with a metallic scrape, wincing at how sharp the sound was. The murmur of voices around me tangled together, a blur of lives I wasn't part of, just out of reach. Conversations mixed into a static hum, like I was behind some invisible barrier, listening to a life that wasn't mine anymore.

The creak of the tavern door broke the monotony, a cool draft brushing past as it opened. Two voices followed—one light and easy, as familiar as home. Hoseok's laughter rang out, warm and effortless, undercut by Hyuna's softer chuckle. Their voices cut through the haze like sunlight piercing storm clouds.

"Mind if we join you?" Hoseok asked, his tone as laid-back as ever, though I could hear the weariness beneath it.

I gestured to the empty seats, managing a small smile. "Go ahead. Just a heads-up—the food's as bad as it looks."

"If Yala cooked it, I can imagine it's bad," Hyuna said, eyeing my plate with a smirk. "Greasy, stale, and questionable at best?"

"Pretty much," I muttered, pushing the plate farther away.

Hoseok chuckled, but the sound lacked its usual spark. "Hey, at least it's not rations out of a tin like the copiae are getting in the field. I'd take overcooked eggs any day."

We shared a weak laugh, but the moment was fleeting. The weight of everything we'd been through, the constant worry, crept back in—thick and heavy. Hoseok leaned back, his eyes drifting somewhere far away. "Bridd saved my life in that last battle," he said quietly. "I don't even know how, but she did. I keep thinking... it should be me out there instead of her, alone."

Silence settled over us, broken only by the clinking of glasses and low murmurs from across the room. A pang shot through my chest, the reminder of Bridd's absence cutting deep. She'd been our anchor, the one who kept us steady. Without her, it felt like we were all just... floating.

"You miss her," I said softly, voicing what we all felt.

Hoseok nodded, his face tight with worry. "We all do. But Jimin's taking it the hardest. He's been beating himself up since that argument they had before she left. This war... it's tearing us apart."

Hyuna's expression softened, her eyes distant. "I keep thinking I should've said something to her, thanked her for everything. But I didn't. None of us did, really."

"We didn't either. Barely saw her after she woke up," I swallowed, my voice rough. "She's the heart of our families, and I don't think she ever realized how much she held us together."

Hoseok's hand rested on the table, his fingers tapping lightly. "I can't even imagine what it'd be like if she doesn't come back. Jimin's trying to act strong, but he's falling apart."

"He's been so distant lately," I murmured. "He doesn't know who he is without her anymore."

"Namjoon's been keeping him company," Hyuna nodded, her voice quiet. "He's hardly around here anymore. Only talks to people when he has to."

"I've been trying to keep an eye on him," Hoseok muttered. "He's easy to find—training, Bridd's place, or scouting. He's here all day, then slips away when things get quiet to spend time at her house. He's been fixing it up."

That brought a small grin to my face. It was nice to think it'd be ready for her when she got back. Unless, of course, something happened to it again. I doubted the elves would bother returning to the clearing. The witches who'd gone to Clarcton to find family said everyone thought Y/N was dead when they found her cottage destroyed and 'the Bird' gone.

We didn't correct them until they were back in Foxglove. Y/N's whereabouts were classified now.

"I'm worried he might hurt himself if something happens to her," Hyuna whispered.

"He might, even if he doesn't know," Hoseok replied. "We're not meant to be apart from our mates for this long. He must be going insane."

Their words echoed the fears I'd been trying to bury. I clenched my fists under the table, feeling the rough wood grain beneath my fingers, focusing on the tavern's hum of voices and clinking glasses. Out there, life went on, uninterrupted. But here, in our little corner, everything felt like it was standing still.

Whether we liked it or not, the three of us would be on the front lines.

And everyone knew I might not make it.

No one wanted to admit it.

Hoseok broke the silence with a sigh. "Yoongi," he said quietly, "have you thought about what happens after all this? After the war?"

The question hit me harder than I expected. Survival had become everything—the only thing. Thinking beyond it felt strange. I wasn't sure I'd see the end of it. With my eyesight the way it was, I felt weak, at a major disadvantage. Magic was helpful, but without the confidence to use it, it was useless.

Most of my spells fizzled out lately, and I was too frustrated and upset to keep trying.

"I know with your eyes, fighting might be tough," Hoseok continued, not noticing how still I'd become. "I'd understand if you wanted to stay back, maybe help out at the palace with Sol. She's a bit immature at times, but she's a sweet girl. You'd be good for her."

I stopped listening.

I couldn't be stuck on the sidelines. I wasn't meant to be there. I was a strong fighter—the best at night by a long shot. Jin might have more brute strength, his energy electric and full of fire, but I was just as deadly.

I could make the ground split in two. I could turn blades of grass into vines strong enough to break steel. I could summon a hurricane with a whisper. I could do so many things if they'd let me.

If I could let myself.

Then the sound of screaming rushed in my ears, and a cold sweat broke out across my skin.

I needed air.

I managed to get outside, bumping into a few chairs and tables on the way. The cool breeze hit my face, and I leaned back against the weathered wall, letting the cold ground me. It cut through the fog in my head, the chilly morning a relief from the tavern's stuffiness.

The smell of blood and ash had filled the air, screams and the clash of steel blurring together. I remembered the weight of their stares, how hard it was to breathe, the sharpness of their blades. The elves had charged us swiftly, mercilessly. I'd fought, felt the sting of cuts I barely noticed through the adrenaline. I could still see the glow of that elf's purple eyes as he reached out and covered my face. And then, in one blinding moment, all I felt was searing, burning pain.

I had bested him in the end, but fighting after that had been nearly impossible. The only reason I'd been able to call out to Y/N was because things hadn't gotten as bad as they eventually would. While I was in the palace with Enver and Namjoon, everything went black. The small bit of vision I'd recovered was thanks to the countless healing spells everyone had tried on me.

I met Sam during that time—when everything was blurry and upside down. She told everyone the "shining" had its advantages, but that my body needed to heal on its own. Not many survive the initial burning, she'd said, and we'd have to wait and see what became of me. It took months for the full effects to settle in, but she could already tell my vision was adjusting to the dark. Each day, my eyes became more metallic, turning silver as they healed. She said the grayscale was a good thing.

I didn't believe her. Not at all.

Sam befriended me out of some morbid curiosity about what would happen to the little witch who survived elf magic. Now, she wanted to sleep with me. Quietus were strange creatures, but I'd come to adore Sam and all her odd quirks.

"Yoongi?"

I turned, steadying myself against the rough wall. Hoseok's footsteps were careful, like he didn't want to startle me. I hadn't even heard him come outside.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, concern threading through his words.

"I just... needed a minute." I tried to keep my voice steady. "I'm easily overwhelmed lately. Apologize to Hyuna for me. That was really rude."

Hoseok was silent for a moment, then I felt his hand on my shoulder—warm and grounding. "We're all carrying more than we should," he said gently. "You can talk to me. Maybe it'll help. What does it feel like?"

A bitter laugh slipped out before I could stop it. "What are you referring to? My eyes or the nightmares?"

"The nightmares." His voice softened. "I know enough about your condition. I just want to know about you right now."

I shook my head, pushing my glasses further up my nose. The sun was bothering my eyes even more out here, but I barely noticed. Everything was too bright, too sharp.

"It feels like they never stop," I admitted. "Even when my eyes are open, they keep happening. Sometimes I don't know what's real anymore. It's... frightening."

Hoseok took a deep breath beside me. "Hyuna's been having the same issue," he said, leaning against the wall next to me. "Waking up screaming my name. When we got separated, she barely noticed, but seeing me hurt like that was horrible for her. Her friends died. Both of my parents died. It's been really hard."

I hadn't realized he'd lost his family. I knew his older sister was still around the village. The Jungs were good at covering their pain, it seemed. I reached out, my hands fumbling until they found his shoulder—maybe a bit too close to his neck, but he didn't pull away.

"I'm sorry," I said, feeling his fingers brush against my hand before enveloping it. His hands were large and warm—scorching, almost. I didn't know how Y/N dealt with it; it felt like I might melt. "I didn't realize. I would have gone to the funeral."

He shook his head. "We couldn't have proper funerals for anyone. Too many bodies. They burned them and gave the ashes to Ji-woo. We're too afraid to display them right now. They could get destroyed in another fight."

"I can charm them," I blurted out. "Make the porcelain sturdier. I can't make it unbreakable—charming isn't really my specialty; that's Y/N's thing. But I'm good enough to give you some peace of mind."

"We'd appreciate that," Hoseok said, squeezing my hand. "Thank you."

Bridd's absence gnawed at me. If she were here, she'd promise Hoseok and anyone else with a vase of ashes that they'd never break again as soon as she got her hands on them. Funny—we used to tease her and Wendy for struggling with defensive magic. Wendy said she didn't believe in violence but knew enough to defend herself if needed. Y/N was even less into it, but she was so resourceful she scared even the best fighters among us.

I'd never seen someone make fire so quickly and easily before. A natural talent, my mother had said. It was her only truly offensive attack, but even I could admit her protective spells were where she truly shined. Healing, shields, and all the strange and whimsical spells she made up to escape quickly and quietly—they were fascinating.

My heart felt heavier.

"What happened between Bridd and Jimin?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. It was a question that had haunted me since she left.

We all knew the gist: an argument that got out of hand, and Y/N had a really bad day. She left in a flurry of emotions and disappeared. Many of us were quick to blame Jimin for her leaving, but when details about Sol being the catalyst emerged, that blame shifted.

I felt bad for the girl. She didn't think Y/N would run off and hurt herself. I understood she was trying, in some ways, to get her to stay by making sure the one person who could convince her not to go was extremely against the whole idea. Unfortunately, she didn't know my friend all that well and ended up sending her packing even sooner than planned.

Sol was a child. Eighteen was barely an adult, and she'd been pampered and treated like a princess her entire life. What did anyone expect? For her to be mature and handle things like a seasoned warrior? Not likely. Especially not when she had such a sweet and bubbly husband like Taehyung, who just wanted to please her.

They still were hardly speaking.

Hoseok sighed heavily. "It's complicated," he said. "They argued about Sol, about her leaving. Bridd was trying to protect him, and Jimin pushed for answers. Things got heated, and they both said things they regretted. But Jimin..." He paused, his voice dropping. "He's a mess without her. Regret doesn't even cover it."

"I know. I guess I'm just trying to figure out what everyone is doing about the elves. Thelma hasn't been very helpful."

"The council meets daily, but we can't get on the same page. Namjoon, Jungkook, and I are doing most of the talking. Jimin's making hundreds of war plans for every scenario you could think of. There are so many maps in that room. Bo and Kim are trying to ease the minds of the older folks. Taehyung is shockingly level-headed, working with Jimin to iron out details."

"And Sol? Is she just hiding while we pick up the pieces?" I couldn't help the sharpness in my voice.

No one had seen the Luna since her wedding. It wasn't a good look, and when we heard about Jungkook being her personal guard through all this, we nearly stormed the palace to demand why she thought she deserved special treatment. Heji had calmed us down, but dissent for Sol spread through the village like wildfire.

Hoseok's grip tightened on my hand. "It's not that simple, Yoongi. They're keeping a close eye on her in the palace. She's trying to keep her family safe and deal with everything she's set in motion."

"That doesn't excuse her," I snapped, anger spilling over. "It doesn't excuse any of this. We're out here fighting while she sits behind walls. And Y/N..." My voice cracked, the ache in my chest almost too much to bear.

"Yoongi." Hoseok's voice was firm, cutting through my anger. "We're all in this mess, every one of us. The girl is having a mental breakdown in there. She can't even get out of bed anymore. Taehyung won't speak to her, and she's miserable. She tried... harming herself a few days ago, and now they have guards watching her around the clock. Blaming Sol won't bring Bridd back or make this any easier."

"I know." The anger faded, leaving only emptiness behind. "But it feels like everything's falling apart, and I'm completely useless. You know no one expects me to survive the next fight."

Hoseok let go of my hand, and I dropped mine from his shoulder. I could see his silhouette leaning back against the wall beside me. The light made everything an overwhelming flood of white and gold, edges blurring and details lost in the glare. I hoped I would find something better than these stupid human inventions with time.

The edges allowed sunlight in depending on which way my head turned and the coating on them wasn’t as dark and thick as I would have liked. Yet another thing Y/N would have figured out how to fix. She had the most creative spell ideas out of everyone I had ever met.

She might have even been able to find a way to get my eyes back to normal given enough time.

"You're stronger than you think," Hoseok said gently. "You made it through that battle. You're still here, and that means something, even if it doesn't feel like it right now."

“I’m here for now,” I rebuttal, unhappily.

“You heard Samanya, sooner or later your eyes will be better than any of ours at night. Then, you’ll be the most useful person in the entire village.”

“Sure.”

The street around us was still, the morning quiet making me far more unnerved. Birds did not chirp anymore. Most of the deer were in hiding. Insects and the occasional frog were the only sounds. At that moment, it felt like we were in a bubble, the noise and weight of the war held at bay just for a second.

“Is Sol alright?” I asked.

“Doing better,” Hoseok huffed. “She’s not really sure what she’s supposed to be doing, and no one is willing to let her help with anything now. Bo isn’t letting her in on any of the war meetings, Namjoon’s father thinks she’s too stupid and frail to be any help, and I think Tae’s just too overwhelmed and overloaded to step in between them.”

“Still not talking?” I asked.

Hoseok shook his head. “He talked to her last night, and he’s been trying to spend more time with her, but Sol’s not being very receptive to him right now. Koda has been with her mostly, and she said Sol hasn’t eaten or spoken for days. Weeks if you want to count her just sipping on water and force feeding herself crackers and bread. She looks horrible.”

“And Taehyung?”

“Worried,” Hoseok cleared his throat. “Sorry, I have a cough. He’s just spread too thin right now, and no one is being very helpful. Jimin, maybe, but he’s too distracted to really give much advice. It’s why I think you going and being around Sol might help.”

I laughed, “And why would I be the ultimate solution to all of their problems?”

“Because you’re nice, and Sol needs a friend.”

I shook my head. The thought of spending time with the girl who was the reason my best friend left was not appealing to me, but I did understand where Hoseok was coming from. Even if I did not particularly care for her, it wasn’t nice to hear that she had attempted to take her own life. No one should feel like that is their only option.

Maybe I will stop by one of these days. See if I could get the girl a decent meal. Gods knows she was already skinny enough before. Has to be practically wasting away now.

I heard the tavern door open and slam shut. Heavy footsteps fell and were coming for the two of us. A good guess was that it was Hyuna. Peeking over Hoseok’s shoulder, I saw his wife.

She was tall and slim, just as skin and bones as her husband, with long hair. I remember meeting her once or twice before, but couldn’t remember the color of her hair. It was brown, not too light or dark, but that was all. Her skin was dark, the color reminded me of a bronze-gold Viola. She was pretty. I remember thinking she was pretty.

Right now, she just looked like a stick figure drawn in ink that was smudged with the side of a hand.

Hyuna’s voice broke the silence as she joined us, her tone steady and sure. “Are you alright?” Her hand found mine, warm and solid. “You looked shaken up.”

I swallowed hard, nodding as some of the tightness in my chest eased. “I’m alright, Hyuna,” I said, my voice thick. “Just a few things I’d rather not think about.”

“I have those, too,” she replied, her eyes kind.

The morning air was crisp and biting, but with my friends beside me, I felt a spark of warmth, a small flicker of hope breaking through the shadows. We’d lost so much, and there was still more to face, but standing there, I felt like maybe we had enough to hold on to.

“Come here, baby,” Hoseok muttered, grabbing hold of his wife. Hyuna melted into his side. He looked back at me. “We need to get back to the palace. Hyuna’s scheduled to watch Sol in an hour and I need to get back to the council room before Jimin rips Bo’s head off.”

“No problem, man.”

“Will you be alright?” Hyuna asked.

“Always am,” I replied.

They each gave me a small hug before heading off towards the palace.

I leaned against the cold, rough wall of the building, trying to catch my breath as my mind spiraled through everything weighing on us—the war, the losses, the unknowns stretching out like an endless road. I closed my eyes, hoping for a moment of peace, but the darkness clung to me, seeping into every corner of my mind.

The sound of footsteps pulled me back to reality. I turned toward them, and a flicker of relief went through me when I saw Sam and Jungkook. I couldn't see if they looked as rough as I did, but it didn’t really matter to me. We had fun last night and I felt bad for possibly ruining that light atmosphere we’d been able to hold onto for a few hours. Hoseok and Hyuna had most likely run into them on their way out. It was the only way either of them would have known I was here.

“Hey,” Sam said, her voice soft. “You okay?”

I forced a small smile, though it felt like it could break at any second. “Just needed some air,” I replied, my voice sounding as worn out as I felt. “How about you two? Holding up?”

Jungkook shrugged, his jaw tight, his usual spark dimmed. “Same as everyone else, I guess. Just… trying to make sense of it. Hangovers don't mix well with war meetings. Happy Jung is relieving me. I hate seeing my cousin like that.”

Sam took a small step closer. “Hyuna told us you were here,” she said gently, her voice carrying the same sadness that weighed on all of us. “She told me what happened. Are you sure you’re alright? She made it seem like you freaked out.”

I swallowed, the ache in my chest tightening. “Yeah,” I managed, barely above a whisper. “I’m just… everyone keeps talking about Bridd, and it brings back a lot of memories. I hate that she’s not here right now. The witches aren’t united and nothing is getting done. I’m pissed off and sad.”

The three of us stood there, caught in a silence heavy with grief. Y/N had been more than just a friend to me—she’d been my anchor, hope, and strength when I needed it most. And now, that strength was gone. She had made me feel like I was worth something. Like I could be something more than a conquest. She was the only person that we grew up with who made me feel like I was more than just a piece of meat. Nixie and Delta had been helpful as well, but the romance always left room for doubt in my mind. With Y/N I knew she just really loved and cared about me with or without strings attached.

She was like that with all of us. The most well-respected and adored little witch as far as the eye could see. And we all knew it. Jin, Wendy, our families, and the little witches—big and small—were all aware of the gaping hole we kept avoiding talking about. We needed her here right now, and nothing Thelma or anyone else did could change that fact.

The fact that Enver and Thelma might have known she would leave prior to any of this happening made my stomach churn uncomfortably.

“Have I ever told you I talked to Jin before?” Sam finally broke the silence.

“No,” My face scrunched up. “Why would you do that?”

“It was back when your vision was at its worst. Before Bridd even woke up.”

“Oh,” I said back, dumbly. Jin never acted like he even knew Sam existed half the time. The fact that he’d spoken with her at all was news to me. Wendy couldn’t have known about it. She would have told me. She wouldn’t have been able to help herself.

Wendy was bad with secrets. Jin, too.

Huh. Maybe I didn’t know him as well as I thought I had.

“What’d he say?” I asked.

“I told him I was worried about what would happen to everyone if she never woke up,” Sam’s voice was like butter. “That hope within your people would die out as quickly as it went in. He told me that Bridd used to say hope was like a stubborn weed. You could try to pull it out as many times as you wanted, but it would always come back, even stronger.” She let out a soft laugh, more sad than happy. “She woke up, of course. The whole conversation didn’t really mean much of anything afterwards, but I can’t help but think about that sometimes. Because she was right. You could see how defeated she was—her eyes couldn’t lie, but she still clung to the hope of finding something better and bringing it back. An impossible task and she looked at it with nothing but mild annoyance and disdain.”

Sam laughed in disbelief. “And then she went off on her own like a fucking lunatic. She left this place thinking that her fiancé hated her, her friends betrayed her, and that she would die out there one way or another—and she still went. She wanted all of us to live even if she died. She had hope that she’d make it far enough to find Naida and whatever happened after didn’t matter.”

“She believed in that hope, even when we couldn’t,” Jungkook added, his voice raw. “She made us believe, too.”

I nodded, the sharp ache of missing her settling deep. “She wouldn’t want us to give up,” I said, feeling the truth of it in my bones. “She fought for this—for us. I can’t let her down.”

Sam reached out, her hand resting on my shoulder, grounding me. “Your friend is as crazy as Queen Terra was, and that woman stood tall against the elves. A mass genocide and she was still screaming. That’s what your girl is doing, and we will be doing the same.”

Jungkook moved closer, placing his hand on my other shoulder, his grip strong. “For Bridd,” he said, his voice filled with quiet determination, “and for everyone we’ve lost.”

Bridd had given everything she had to protect us, to stand for something bigger than herself. And even though she was gone, her spirit lived on in us, in the bonds we shared, in the strength that kept us going. The road ahead was dark, full of uncertainty, but we’d walk it together.

As the sun slowly rose, casting light across the worn cobblestones, I felt a hint of warmth—a reminder that dawn always comes after the darkest nights. We couldn’t change the past or erase what we’d lost, but we could honor Bridd’s memory by holding onto hope and fighting on. She’d left us with that much: a spark of resilience even in the deepest dark.

“For Bridd,” I murmured.

And for once, the light didn’t bother me so much.

I stood by the river, watching as the last of the sunlight hit the water. The river sparkled, flowing east where it would inevitably end up in the Talay Ocean. Around me, the sky was deepening. I had never realized how much I had taken sunsets for granted until I could no longer watch the colors swirl together. It was twilight now, and the sky would be streaked with crimson and plum. Sunsets this close to the water were always the most beautiful.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to reach for my magic. It used to come so easily, just a flick of my wrist, a thought. But now, it felt like pulling teeth. The light that once danced at my fingertips was nothing more than a weak spark, flickering out before it even formed. Frustration twisted in my chest, sharp and tight.

Nothing really was the same anymore.

Clashing metal, the roar of flames, blood, wolves at my feet, swirling smoke clouding my vision, white hair, violet eyes, burning, and then the screaming.

Always the screaming.

I tried to shake off the memory, forcing myself to focus on the gentle sounds of the river. It was a futile distraction at best. Bridd’s face surfaced in my mind, and I felt the sting of her absence all over again. I could almost hear Jin’s laughter, taunting me with each failure, each flicker of magic that sputtered out.

“Not so hot now, Min,” his voice was distorted and dripping with more malice than my friend was capable of.

I clenched my fists, trying to channel the frustration into something useful—anything that might remind me I hadn’t lost myself entirely. I flicked my wrist. Nothing came.

“Come on,” I muttered under my breath. “You can do this.” But all I got were a few faint sparks that faded into nothing. Every failure widened the hollow ache inside, gnawing at my resolve.

The riverbank was too quiet. I wondered if it was as lonely as I was. I groaned, kicking my feet and connecting with a few stray rocks. The sun had finally set, and I ripped the stupid glasses off my face. With each passing day, things became clearer. Tonight, the lines were sharper, and the details between the trees a bit more noticeable. Of course, still no color had come back. Cadoc said it most likely never would.

Tears welled up in my eyes. My entire chest tightened with all the frustration, anger, and hopelessness I felt deep within me. I was a failure. I was nothing. I was...

I wished someone was there to break me out of my own head for a while.

A rustling in the bushes made me jump, my body tensing instinctively. But it was only a bird, flapping away, leaving me alone again. I sighed, looking up at the sky. At least I could make out the stars again. I looked around, hoping to find Scorpius.

I found it tucked away, forming a ‘J.’ I smiled. Antares was the easiest to spot, a faintly red and brightly lit star. The only thing that could rival the other star called Mars. I was not sure how they got their names, or when, but it was interesting to look at them all. This, at least, I could still do.

“Today is a new day,” I mumbled, tearing my eyes away from the sky.

I tried the spell again, but again, nothing happened. Again. A faint spark. All I wanted to do was a very simple, very basic electricity spell. Each failed attempt felt like a punch to the gut. I hated being reduced to this weak and pathetic state where the very thing I was born to do felt impossible.

I flicked my wrist. “Leohtfæt.”

A white-hot bolt shot out, but instead of flicking out like it should have, it exploded in a small burst just after leaving the tip of my index finger. I shouted, pain shooting through my arm. A murder of crows flew up from the surrounding trees in a flurry. None of them made a sound.

I couldn’t hold it in anymore, and I let out a shout—raw and loud, breaking the quiet. I kicked at the dirt, wishing I could do something—anything—to shake this feeling. I was in a cage, a small songbird, and I couldn’t figure out why I wanted to sing anymore. Beside me, the river kept flowing, steady and indifferent. I stood beside it, stuck.

“Get it together,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “You’re stronger than this.”

I didn’t believe myself.

I took a few steps back from the river’s edge until I felt the solid ground under my feet. It felt more reassuring than the wet mud had. My magic was still somewhere inside of me; I just needed to shake off the fear and regroup. I was able to make a bolt.

It blew up in my face, but it was more than I’d been able to do in a few weeks.

The river glowed underneath the moonlight, the world around me softening, muted. I leaned against a twisted tree, still caught up in the mess of my own frustration, when I heard her voice.

“Yoongi?” Sam called out.

It was soft, like she wasn’t sure if she should interrupt. I turned toward the sound and was struck by how much clearer she looked tonight. Her hair cascaded down her back, dark and perfectly straight, and she was wearing some kind of loose-fitting dress. I had never been able to see her features so clearly before. Bathed in a gentle, dream-like glow, she stood out against the trees like some sort of goddess.

Humans might even mistake her for one of their angels.

“I thought I might find you here.”

I tried to smile, though it probably looked tired. “Hey,” I said, my voice as worn as I felt. “Didn’t realize I’d been out here that long.”

Her footsteps were soft as she came closer. She was taking great care not to startle me. Footsteps and loud noises sometimes brought me back, and I’d be unable to speak for a few minutes. Her lips were pulled down into a half-frown. They were plump and full, and I rejoiced in being able to know that about her.

Such a far cry from a few days before on Mi-Jeong’s back porch.

“I just came from Jimin’s. He’s... well, he’s managing. Sort of,” she said quietly. “Namjoon and I kept him company for a while, but he ended up slipping out a few minutes ago.”

I swallowed, guilt biting deeper. “Is he alright?”

She hesitated, and I saw her shifting uncomfortably, searching for the right thing to say. I had never been able to see her squirm before. “Not really,” she admitted. “But he’s trying.” She found a rather large rock near the river’s edge and sat down. “Doesn’t sound like the magic training is going very well.”

I nodded, going over to sit beside her. She made room for me before leaning her head against my shoulder. Her small touches of affection were growing more common between us, but they did not bother me. In fact, I welcomed them. Even if I knew she had just been with Namjoon—I flushed as I thought of him—it never made me feel uncomfortable. If anything, it only made me want her beside me more.

It was almost like touching him.

“Nothing?” she asked, so gently that I almost wanted to cry.

“Yeah,” I said, lifting my hands. “I got a few sparks here and there, but it’s hit or miss. I need to start testing a few of the other simple spells and see if it’s just my defensive magic that’s clogged up.”

She didn’t speak right away. Her head stayed on my shoulder, and her hand came to claim one of my own. She pulled it down to rest in her lap. Her legs felt cold against my skin. Her thumb gently traced my knuckles.

“That’s better than before,” she said finally. “I think your body is still a bit afraid after what happened. Might be trying to keep you safe.”

Frustration spiked again, making my voice come out sharper than I intended. “It’s not that simple, Sam. Bodies don’t do that.”

She didn’t pull away, didn’t flinch. Instead, she squeezed my hand a little tighter. “No, it’s not simple. None of this is, but your body is far more complex than you think it is.”

I felt her lips against my neck. They were cold and wet. I shivered.

“It happened to me just after the Sarkan invasion,” she whispered in my ear. “I was a young girl, but I remember how afraid I was. I couldn’t do anything for years afterward. I felt just as human as the people who stole our land. So many of us were deeply affected.”

She sighed, shifting back to rest against my shoulder again. “I don’t think you’re all that different. King Castor, who wasn’t a king at the time, told us that our minds like to play tricks on us to protect themselves. Fear is the most powerful weapon in the universe. Have I ever told you about my time with the dragons?”

“No.”

She chuckled. “A story for another time, I suppose. They’re strong and brave people, but they understand much about the body that the rest of us don’t. His wife, Queen Affra, said she knew why iron hurt the fae people but no one ever believed her. It’s too long ago now to remember it, but I wish we’d taken them at their word sooner. It’s the only reason their numbers were able to recover so quickly after the end of the war.”

“I was always told it was because they fucked like rabbits.”

“Well, there’s that, too.”

We both shared a quiet laugh.

She slid her hand up my arm, her fingers tickling my skin, before she took hold of my bicep. “Being strong doesn’t mean you’re not scared,” she said. “It just means you keep going anyway.”

“Are you scared?” I asked, looking down at her face.

It was even easier to see it now. Her eyes were hooded, her nose too pointy and thin, and her face a perfect oval. She reminded me of a very beautiful fish. I leaned down and kissed her between her eyes. She hummed in contentment.

“More than I’ve ever been before.”

I swallowed, her honesty touching something deep inside me, a part of me I hadn’t let anyone near. “I don’t want to drag everyone down,” I said, my voice breaking.

“You’re not dragging anyone down,” she said, her voice fierce, eyes blazing. “Not me, at least. You matter, Yoongi. More than you even realize.”

Something warm flickered in my chest. “I just… I don’t want you to feel like you have to carry me.”

She kissed my cheek this time. “I care about you, Yoongi,” she said. It sounded like a promise. “And that’s not something you get to decide for me. I’m not going anywhere.”

I let out a shaky breath.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

She smiled, and I wished that I knew what color her lips were. Were they like strawberries or the dusty roses in my mother’s garden in Clarcton? “You don’t need to thank me,” she said softly. “Just let me be here, okay?”

I nodded, and we let the silence settle around us. The river murmured, the leaves rustled above, and as night crept in, I felt the gentle hum of life moving forward. Faintly, the crickets were beginning to chirp.

The darkness wasn’t gone—it never really was. It still hovered there, the screams clinging to my mind. But with Sam’s hand in mine, something shifted, and I could vaguely see through the cracks in the trees. They weren't very big, but they were just enough to let a little light in. I took a deep breath, letting the cool night air settle me, and felt more sure of things than I had in a long time.

“You’re right,” I said quietly, my voice a little stronger. “I’m fucking terrified and I don’t know what to do with all of these feelings. I’m so lost and scared, Sam.”

“One step at a time, okay? You’ll figure it out eventually.”

I nodded, feeling gratitude I couldn’t put into words.

After a moment, Sam’s tone shifted, her voice taking on that playful edge I’d come to know and love. Did I love Sam? I couldn’t be in love with her, but I guess I did feel something akin to love. “So, I’ve got some gossip for you,” she said.

My curiosity sparked, tugging me out of the heavy thoughts weighing me down. Shifting, I bent over. Sam giggled childishly. I dipped my fingers into the river, feeling the cool water wash over them, and the residual ache from the spell was gone. I heard her shuffling around until she leaned in beside me, her warmth pushing back against the chill of the night.

Sam wasn’t as warm as me, and nowhere near as warm as the wolves, but I expected an air elemental to be freezing. She said when she “merged.” That’s what they called it when they became more air than solid. Merging with the atmosphere, or whatever Cadoc had said.

I rarely spoke with him, and when I did, I didn’t pay attention. He was nice enough, but boring to converse with. Sam said he wasn’t around much anymore since he was the official diplomat between Queen Nerezza and the Elder Council. Lorcan was their link with General Drystan, and Sam was Jarisa’s, the King’s Consort’s, closest friend. A few other quietus had joined us here in Foxglove, but they were the least experienced warriors they had. From what Sam told me, her king and queen were still wary of working closely with the wolves. Y/N fleeing only added to their suspicion. If she were able to come back with Naida or Khione with her, the rest of the quietus would come as well.

Where Naida went, it was far more likely for the fire dragons to come as well, though no one seemed particularly confident that would be the case. Fire elementals enjoyed keeping to themselves.

“What’s the tea?” I asked, my tone lighter.

“Turns out Ji-Hyun was the one who tipped Sol off about Bridd,” she said in a low, conspiratorial voice. “Taehyung only confirmed it when she backed him into a corner. She didn’t really believe him until then, but whatever he told her is what she must have told Jimin. I’ve met with Taehyung a few times and he seems too sweet to make up lies.”

“Why would he do that?” I muttered, not really expecting an answer that would make any of this better. “I’ve never understood his disdain for Y/N. No one she’s ever met has disliked her so quickly, and even if they did, they’d get over it once they talked to her. She’s quite likable once you get past the quick temper and awkwardness.”

Sam leaned in closer, her breath warm against the cool air. “Lorcan overheard Ji-Hyun arguing with his wife,” she whispered. “Ji-Hyun’s best friend died in the siege, and he blames your little bird for not warning them. He just assumed the worst from the beginning, and he’s too stubborn to squash the beef. He’s angry, Yoongi, and telling Sol was his way of lashing out.”

I clenched my jaw, feeling bitterness rise. Ji-Hyun’s grudge was like poison, and his need for revenge was threatening to tear apart everything we’d fought so hard to hold together. “Great,” I muttered sarcastically. “Just what we need. Another reason for everyone to turn on each other.”

Sam sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. “Exactly. Everyone’s already on edge, and Lorcan thinks Jimin doesn’t know yet. He’s been around his brother too often for him to think he went behind his back in that way.”

I stared out at the river, watching the water flow. I could picture Jimin’s face once he learned the whole truth of things—the anger that would rise up in him, fierce and unchecked. “If Jimin finds out,” I whispered, the weight of it settling on my chest, “it wouldn’t surprise me if he killed Ji-Hyun. And that would be the end of whatever stability we have left.”

“That’s why we can’t let it get to that point,” Sam said, her voice sharper now. “We have to handle this carefully. One wrong move, and everything could fall apart.”

I let out a long breath. “But what can we really do, Sam? The Parks aren’t exactly known for subtlety, and Ji-Hyun just has to say the wrong thing at the wrong time, and he’ll have to deal with Jimin and whoever else feels some type of way about Y/N leaving.”

“Maybe,” she admitted, her tone softening. “But we can watch, we can listen, and we can wait. If the opportunity presents itself, we’ll talk to him. Unfortunately, this is the smallest little village I’ve ever been to, and I doubt anyone can keep their mouths shut for that long. Wouldn’t surprise me if he already knew and was just saving face.”

I turned toward her. “It would explain why he’s staying away from his mom’s house.”

She nudged my shoulder, a smile clear in her voice. “Look at you being smart.”

A real smile crept onto my face. “No one’s ever liked me for my rugged good looks.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing you have both, Mr. Min.”

After a beat, I snapped out of the lovestruck, dumb, idiot stare I was in. Was I in love with Sam? No, Yoongi, you’re just infatuated with a girl who���s being nice to you. Not rocket science.

“So he’s punishing Y/N for something she couldn’t control?” I shook my head. “If you haven’t noticed, my jaw is still firmly in place.”

Sam nodded, her expression hardening. “Yeah, but he’s misjudged how this will play out. Callisto isn’t taking it lightly either. If she finds out about Ji-Hyun’s involvement, things could get… ugly.”

That made me laugh. “If there’s anything that girl can do, it’s shit-talk with the best of them. I miss having her at the house.”

“One of the more entertaining people I’ve met here,” Sam agreed. “The other morning she called Namjoon an ‘absolute walnut.’ And then when Ji-Hyun laughed, she made the funniest faux-surprised face I have ever seen and shouted, ‘Oh my God! It Speaks!’ Lorcan and I were cracking up.”

“Damn spitfire,” I chuckled.

“You’d think she was a dragon the way she talks to these wolves.”

“Brave little human.”

“Brave, indeed.”

The evening deepened, stars twinkling brightly above us. It was quieter than usual. The crickets were a small hum in the background, and the frogs were giving us some space. The birds were in the trees, sitting silently and watching. I wondered if Jin and his family had spoken with them. We’d know when something was nearby that way. It would be smart strategizing. I’d talk to my mother about that and see what she knew.

Maybe I could go with Thelma and see what I could do to help. Being Sol’s babysitter popped up in my head, but it didn’t feel like it would be much help. I glanced at Sam and felt my heart melting.

She really was the most important thing in my life right now.

“Thanks, Sam,” I murmured, my voice catching as I looked away. It didn’t feel like enough, but I meant it. “For sticking with me through all of this.”

She gave the back of my head a gentle peck. “No need to thank me, baby,” she said, her voice as steady as ever. “We’re in this together. Besides,” she added, a little smile creeping into her tone, “you’re the only thing that makes me want to come back to this shitty little village anymore. Honestly, I would have only come to see Joon and leave. Leave Cadoc to do all of the bureaucratic bullshit.”

A laugh escaped me, breaking through the quiet. “So we balance each other out, huh? Fire and ice?”

“Fire and ice,” she echoed, her eyes gleaming with that familiar spark of mischief. “But honestly, I think you’re more earth, and I’m made from… you know, air.”

“Smart ass.”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

And I did.

I stared into my drink, the amber liquid swirling in slow circles, like it was trying to keep up with the chaos in my mind. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was still there, still in that battle, still surrounded by everyone I loved. But it wasn’t real, it never had been. It was just a nightmare.

In my dream, I was the last one standing. Everyone else had fallen—one by one—until it was just me, surrounded by their bodies, faces twisted in pain, fading into the smoke and ash. I’d thought I could protect them, thought I could stop the inevitable. But then the elves charged, all of them, eyes cold and faces unforgiving. I fought, I fought until my muscles gave out, but it was no use. Alone, I couldn’t stop them. And I couldn’t save the people who mattered most.

I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to remember how I felt, standing there with my sword in my hand, a useless piece of steel against the weight of the world. But it kept creeping back into my mind, dragging me back into the nightmare, every little detail too vivid, too real. I didn’t know how long I’d been walking, but somehow, my feet had carried me to the tavern in the middle of the night. The place was dark, almost empty, just the kind of place I could lose myself in.

I ordered a drink. And then another. And another. The whiskey burned going down, but it didn’t burn enough to erase the feeling of emptiness in my chest. The same emptiness that had been there in the dream, the same cold weight of knowing I was the only one left.

The tavern was its usual self—a loud, dim blur of voices and clinking glasses, the smell of stale beer hanging in the air. But none of it mattered. I could barely hear it over the pounding in my head. The world outside seemed far away, like I was in a different place entirely, a place where none of it had ever happened, where I hadn’t failed them all.

I watched the glass in my hand, the whiskey still swirling in lazy circles. No matter how much I drank, it wouldn’t stop the dream from coming back. It wouldn’t bring them back. It wouldn’t fix what was broken inside me.

Then the door swung open, and a familiar laugh sliced through the noise, grating and sharp. I glanced up to see Ji-Hyun stepping into the dim light, his mouth twisted into that smug, careless grin he always wore. He spotted me right away, and instead of looking the other way, like any decent person would, he headed straight for me. My chest tightened, and I could already feel my hand curling into a fist around my glass.

“Well, well, look who’s here,” he said, sliding onto the stool beside me without an invitation. “Didn’t expect to find you out, Yoongi.”

I forced the anger down, keeping my eyes on my drink. “I don’t expect to find you anywhere.”

Ji-Hyun laughed. “Cali keeps me on a tight leash, I’ll admit it. Got lucky tonight, though. She’s helping her momma knit some new clothes for the copiae, and I was able to sneak out.”

“Poor me.”

“I’m not that bad, hyung.”

The honorific was a surprise to me. As long as I had known the kid, he had been a walking dichotomy. Arrogant and condescending, but respectful and always keeping his manners. Still, he had never been quite as kind to the witches. I think our loyalty to Y/N didn’t make his life much easier, especially when his camp of dissenters quickly grew scarce and then disappeared altogether. He was the only person in town besides Bo who didn’t like Y/N, and even he sometimes was quick to criticize Bo’s more “ridiculous” reasoning for being so anti-Y/N.

Jealousy over someone else was petty. The death of a friend and three dozen village members was more than enough for Ji-Hyun’s open disgust at people like us who still loved her.

He was a very black-and-white thinker, and yet there was some space for nuance.

For example, he had never called me “Hyung” before, despite the fact that I’m three years older than him.

“No,” I took a sip of my drink. “You’re pretty fucking terrible.”

That only made him laugh harder. Had to admit, he looked a lot like his older brother when he did that.

“Only because you’re blinded by loyalty and I’m not,” he flagged down the bartender. “Not to Y/N at least. I am to my people, and I have a different opinion than everyone else.”

“Because you’re wrong.”

“No,” he stopped talking and gave Yala his order before turning back to me. “Think about it from my perspective. She saw the future, knew something bad was going to happen, and didn’t tell anyone but her loyalists. One of them being you. Don’t you see how that could piss off a guy?”

I had tried having this conversation with him before, but it had never gone this well. It was weird to think I’d thought this was going to be a fight. Maybe he was more like Jimin than I gave him credit for.

“She didn’t see the future,” I sighed, finishing off my glass. “Y/N can’t see the future. She was getting possessed by spirits who weren’t able to show her very much. It was vague, and she only told me because Thelma—the woman raising the real future-seer—came by and said something bad was coming. We should all be mad at Thelma if we’re using your metrics.”

“But she owed my brother that loyalty and respect, and she didn’t give it to him.”

Oh, that was fucking rich.

“You are such a fucking hypocrite,” I muttered, my voice low. I hoped he’d take the hint and leave, but he just laughed. “You don’t get to say shit like that and expect me to take you seriously.”

“Oh, I don’t?” He leaned in closer, his breath reeking of arrogance. “Last time I checked, I was free to say whatever I wanted. She wasn’t exactly the saint you all like to pretend she was.”

That was it. I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I straightened up, turning to face him, letting all the anger I’d been holding back show. “You’re one to talk. You want to talk about loyalty and respect to your brother? It’s your fault this entire shitshow went to hell in the first place.”

He rolled his eyes, leaning back, completely unfazed. “Oh, please, don’t put that on me. What did I do, exactly?”

I clenched my jaw, struggling to keep calm. “You told Sol about Y/N’s plan after you snuck around like the dirty rat you are. You went behind your brother’s back and fed lies to the most immature and naive person in this entire village to lie about his fiancé. It’s your fault the story was twisted, your fault she ran to your brother, and you sat back like a coward and let it happen. If you were so fucking loyal to your brother, you would have understood that he loved that girl and you would have been there with him.”

Ji-Hyun snorted, a bitter laugh escaping him. “Oh, so now I’m responsible for her choices? Bridd wanted to play hero. She got what she deserved.”

“What about when everyone said that about Callisto?” Ji-Hyun looked surprised. “Yeah, I heard all about your girl getting beat up by a few of the wolves in town after you mated with her. And you know who helped you out? Jimin. You are no better than a bully, and you ganged up on a girl who gave up her entire life and future to help your people, and then because you’re so fucking entitled, and it wasn’t good enough for you, you decided to ruin your brother’s life just to get back at her? You think we didn’t lose people? Cordelia was like a second mother to Y/N when she was younger, and she had to find her dead body. She saved Hoseok’s life!”

“And none of that would have happened if she had said something.”

And then I snapped.

My fist connected with his jaw, and for a split second, everything felt right again. Like I was myself. Ji-Hyun stumbled back, eyes wide with surprise, but it didn't last. His face twisted with anger, and before I knew it, he grabbed my collar, his grip like iron. Then his fist met my cheek, and the world tilted. Pain exploded, but weirdly, it felt good to feel something.

The tavern erupted around us—shouts, scraping chairs, breaking glass—but it all faded into the background. All I could see was Ji-Hyun, and the anger that mirrored my own. The satisfaction of hitting him still buzzed under my skin. I wanted to swing again, to make him hurt like I was hurting.

Then someone yanked me back. Strong hands pulled me away, and I spun around, fists still clenched. It was Jimin. His eyes were hard, jaw set in that way that meant he was beyond mad. "That's enough," he said, his voice cutting through the noise. It wasn't loud, but it didn't need to be.

He held my gaze, and I felt something inside me crumble. Disappointment. That's what I saw in his eyes, and it stung more than Ji-Hyun's punch.

Ji-Hyun wiped blood from his lip, smirking. "Keep your little witch on a leash," he spat before turning and storming out. His words hung in the air, heavy and poisonous.

Jimin's grip on my arm loosened but didn't let go. "What are you doing?" he asked quietly. I didn't have an answer. Couldn't find words that made any sense.

I pulled away, my cheek throbbing, and headed back to the bar. The room spun a little, or maybe that was just me. I sank onto the stool, ignoring the bartender's wary glance. My drink was still there, so I took a long sip, letting the burn distract me.

The whispers started then. People pretending not to stare while definitely staring. Great. Just what I needed.

Ji-Hyun's words replayed in my head. He'd called me pathetic. Said she didn't care about me. No matter how much I tried to drown it out, it clung to me like smoke.

Bridd would've smacked me upside the head for that stunt. Told me to stop acting like an idiot. She always knew how to pull me back when I was spiraling. But she wasn't here.

I felt the weight of Jimin's gaze before I saw him. He stood a few feet away, hands shoved in his pockets, expression unreadable. Part of me wanted him to say something—to yell at me, to tell me I'd screwed up. But he just sighed and walked away, leaving me with my tangled thoughts.

I stared into my glass, the amber liquid swirling like a tiny storm. Maybe Ji-Hyun was right. Maybe I was pathetic. A witch without magic is just... nothing.

The noise of the tavern pressed in—laughter, clinking glasses, snippets of conversations. It was too much. I needed air.

I slipped off the stool, the floor tilting a bit under my feet. Ignoring the curious looks, I headed for the door and stepped out into the night.

The cool air hit me, and I sucked in a deep breath. The sky stretched out above, stars scattered like thrown confetti. I walked until the sounds from the tavern faded, finding a quiet spot near an old oak tree.

I sat down on the grass, leaning back against the rough bark. The ground was damp and cool, seeping through my clothes, but I didn't care. Tilting my head back, I gazed up at the stars. They were blurry around the edges, but constant. Unchanging.

I closed my eyes, the fatigue washing over me like a wave. The fight, the anger, the emptiness—it all felt distant now. Out here, under the vast sky, I could almost pretend that things were okay.

Sleep tugged at me, and for once, I didn't fight it. I let the darkness wrap around me, pulling me under. Just for a little while, I could escape.

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[flowermodd]

Yui's endurement living with Sakamaki's/Mukami's/Tsukinami's/Kino

To understand about Yui's situation, we have to take some criterias in consideration and that her fate couldn't be changed, no matter the outcome.

So in that analysis, I will take some factors around Yui and then to the topic.

Sacrificial Bride and having Cordelia's heart

The one factor that could had being avoided, but we all know that there was one problem: Cordelia's heart. That demonic heart that doesn't alow Yui's fate to be changed, no matter what she want to do with her life

We can easly blame on two specific vampires: Richter (the one responsable to put Cordelia's heart inside of Yui's body) and Karlheinz (the masterminder of Adam and Eve project).

Living with Seiji Komori, the priest

Another factor has to be on her adoptive father, Seiji. Yui might lived alone for the most of her life, which that expains why she acts like she didn't had any role model to look up to.

Might Yui thought that she will go to live by herself and leaving anything behind her when she will be 18. Yui never exepected to be sent to Sakamaki Mansion and leaving with them. Never expecting that vampires are actualy real.

The endurement

In the first game (Hunted Dark Bridal) and season 1 of anime, Yui was sent to live with Sakamaki brothers, not even knowing that they are Do-S vampires and could be cruel to her. Yui was forced to be live in this ever ending circle of constant punishments, blood drinking, harassment, insults etc.

Even in MORE, BLOOD amd season 2 shows the exact same thing happen, but is more like who is going to have Yui instead and some kidnapping stuff. If I had to say one thing that Sakamaki's and Mukami's hand in comon is that they want to became Adam, to make Yui their Eve. The second being to became more powerful and to rule Makai.

The same thing could be said even in Dark fate: another family add. In Tsukunami's case is to try to force Yui to carry many Founder children as soon as possible and even tortured her worst then other two families combinate.

Kino also shows a huge ego (similar with Ayato) and at first disrespected Yui, expecting that everyone to do for him (I'm sory but I'm not that familiar with Kino).

Yui was disrespected by those boys and yet, she treated them with kindness. The boys fall in love with her despite what they did to her makes me feel (some moments) unconfortable. If I had to chose which family could be considetate normal is imposible. Why? Because the way they treated Yui, but also they had their own trauma which let them intro that path.

Yui has her owns trauma and yet, she doesn't let that anger to comsume her and define her nature. The boys have their own trauma and pass those down to Yui, to make her suffer without an explanation is why they do this to her. Two sides in the the same coin.

The hate from fans

I feel that hate that Yui had from fans years ago is so wrong. Just because they say "Yui is annoying" or "Yui is a pick me girl". STFU and put yourself in her shoes and then regret later for your words!

I will protect Yui until my last breath because she deserved better then those boys!

Yui did nothing wrong. She is a girl that wants to be loved. She fate was sealed since from the beganing (her birth), was neglected by Seiji, sent to Sakamaki Mansion, she endured that pain from all fronts. All because of Karlheinz's stupid exepriment

[ushsblog]

Headcanons and Ideas that Episode “Through the Looking Back Glass” Left Me With

(Long post)

1. Wandless magic

First of all, every time I see the incident scene, I can't help but wonder about the magic without a wand. I mean the part where Child Cedric performs a spell with his bare hands, when he tries to fix Cordelia's hair.

That got me thinking because (and correct me if I'm wrong) I don't have seen another sorcerer or sorceress do magic only with their hands. My headcanon about this is that some wizards, with a long lineage of magic, can do some spells without a wand.

And, well, it makes sense to me knowing that Cedric came from a long line of wizards.

Anyway, I don't know if doing this kind of magic is somewhat advanced for a child. It caught my attention when Child Cordelia says: "But you can't cast a spell like that, Ceddy. You're too young".

And then, Cedric shows her he actually CAN do the spell. That, more than a headcanon, makes me wonder if Cedric was a prodigy in magic before losing his self-confidence due to the incident.

And it makes me a little sad thinking about whether Cedric could have had a brighter future if that incident had never happened.

2. Goodwyn being a terrible father

I always found it so unfair the way everyone treats Child Cedric when the smoke serum failed, and even more so, the way his parents let it happen. I know this doesn't even happen in the episode, but I think it's somewhat implicit that Goodwyn didn't defend or at least comfort Cedric. He doesn't even seem to forgive him for his "mistake."

I mean, if your son accidentally hurts his sister, I understand your anger at first. Maybe saying he shouldn't be playing with things he doesn't know or punishing him for his carelessness, perhaps. But eventually, you should tell him it's fine, that you know it wasn't his intention, right? I don't know, something like that, because despite everything, HE'S A CHILD.

Children make mistakes. Cedric's "mistake" was serious, of course. But I think that, as a father, anyone should not let it grow so much that it becomes social rejection. I don't know if I explain myself. But I mean that the way Goodwyn (and Winnifred) handled the matter was terrible.

This brings me to my idea: something was wrong in that family even before the incident. (Explained more in the later points)

Maybe not as bad as it sounds, but personally, I believe something was happening at least between Goodwyn and Cedric for Goodwyn to act like that. I could also say, my headcanon is that Goodwyn had all his hopes and expectations on Cedric. He was going to be his replacement, the new Royal sorcerer, even if he was a child.

I believe part of the way Goodwyn probably reacts and treats Cedric after the incident (I'm referring to all the scolding and interrupting him, as seen in the Mystic Meadows episode) comes from that idea of him disgracing his legacy. Sorry if it's a very basic idea, but this takes me to another point.

3. Goodwyn shit-talking about Cedric

So, similar to the part before, I think that even before the incident, Goodwyn was very hard on Cedric. For the reasons I explained before, I think Goodwyn put pressure on Cedric to get his spells right and that kind of thing. Because, surely even before everything, Cedric did not meet his expectations.

And one of the reasons I believe this is because of that part when Child Cordelia screams at Cedric during the incident: “This is all your fault.”

Because even if, at that moment, it definitely looked like it was his fault, why was Child Cordelia's first reaction to scream and blame Cedric? Because it's a learned habit.

From nothing more than Goodwyn. A child doesn’t learn alone; they imitate behaviors from their home and environment. He doesn't care to say it in front of Sofia (a girl who shouldn't be involved in it) in that buttercups episode, after all. That’s my headcanon here.

Cordelia saw the way her father scolded Cedric, and then, she learned to do it. The incident was only the trigger, so to speak.

It obviously got worse after the incident.

4. Winnifred and Cordelia Relationship

I know it was such a short scene and maybe the animators didn't want to make a young Winnifred model, but where the fuck was Winnifred during the incident? It's your daughter's big special entrance; shouldn't you be in the front row to see her?

That was just a thought I wanted to share, anyway…

This episode, and others about Cedric’s family, gave me the headcanon that just as Cedric had a bad relationship with his father, Cordelia had it with her mother.

Maybe not as bad as Cedric with Goodwyn, but something like that. Let me explain my thought. When Child Cordelia needs comfort, she doesn't look for her mother; she runs to her father. (Well, yeah, because Winnifred wasn't there, so we don't know if Cordelia could have gone to her instead.)

I think Cordelia and Goodwyn had a better relationship because Winnifred always had a slight preference for Cedric that only grew after the incident. With Goodwyn and Cordelia attacking Cedric, Winnifred may have felt an obligation to be on her son’s side.

That probably would make Child Cordelia feel like her mother is betraying her. I mean, if your mother tries to defend the person that hurt you (that left you bald), you probably feel angry at her.

Even more so when she spends her time saying he's a “great sorcerer” despite everything he did. You live permanently bald because of him, and he's a great sorcerer? That's totally bullshit. (At least, that's what Cordelia must have thought.)

And, as it seems in “Cedric be good,” she also supports him in anything he does. Even when it’s something bad and a legit crime. I just imagine Winnifred defending Child and young Cedric for everything he did, even if, sometimes, it was really his fault. So, in part, that makes me understand Cordelia's anger.

Yeah, I made a headcanon to understand and empathize with Cordelia a little.

So, probably Cordelia got closer to her dad. I also can see them talking shit about Cedric while doing some activity together, lol. It's like their recreational time.

Summary: Cedric is a mommy’s boy and Cordelia is a daddy’s girl. (Is that expression well used? I don't speak English but I have seen some people use it. I'm a little afraid of using the wrong expressions and having something else understood.)

5. Sorceress/ sorcerer balls are a presentation to magical society.

Yep. That's my other headcanon. (And I think it's for any gender)

I belive this because of the other wizards we can see in the background. Again, I know it's because it's probably easier for animators to use the same models of other characters, but let’s leave that aside.

These wizards are the same as in the episode “Hexley Hall” during the song the other familiars sing to Wormwood. These people are academics from Hexley Hall and, apparently, very important people in the world of wizards. (Because of the number of portraits they have around the series and so on.)

I think the ball is a way of presenting the new little wizards who will join the world of sorcery. Also, I think that after 10 years old, is the time they enter Hexley Hall. So, it makes sense for people from Hexley Hall to come to these parties to see their future students and members.

I say it's from the age of ten because in Cedric's flashback in Hexley Hall, he already has white locks. Personally, I think Cedric was 8 or 9 during the incident, and that Cordelia is the older sister. In fact, I thought that was canon until I saw some people disputing it.

Anyway, that only makes Cedric's mistake more significant. Because he, in front of the eyes of the most important people in the magic community, looked like a failure. And maybe that's why he had such a bad reputation in Hexley Hall.

Plus whatever he did in his school years.

Thank you for your time! I would like to know what you think about it. I can't believe how interesting a scene that's less than five minutes long is.

[graceraindrops-blog]

How much of a terrible mom was Cordelia? A full explanation.

It's a shame that the first post of my blog is dedicated to a rather ''interesting'' take @yuikomorii showed me, but taking into account that I've done my research involving the mothers, I find it a perfect opportunity to make a full explanation of Cordelia's abusive behavior.

Before I start, I would like to talk about why Cordelia acted the way she did (I AM NOT JUSTIFYING HER ACTIONS).

We know that Cordelia's father was neglectful towards her after the death of her mother which made her lack the ability to understand love.

Karlheinz manipulated Cordelia into marrying him and giving him children FORCEFULLY (because Cordelia did not want to have children). He also convinced Cordelia that it was okay for her to have many lovers and to have sexual relationships with FAMILY members

Cordelia's abusive behavior towards the triplets also comes over the fact of her jealousy and obsession with Karlheinz and surpassing Beatrix and Christa.

Getting this out of the way I will now start explaining why Cordelia was NOT a good mother despite her traumas.

It's not strange to view Cordelia negatively if she's one of the antagonists of the franchise. NEVER did Diabolik lovers ever paint Cordelia as a good person and constantly tell us about how shitty she was towards her children and how much it affected them.

2. I'm not denying the fact that around those times parenting was more strict, however, you're forgetting that Cordelia didn't just slap, ground, or yell at her children, she put intense waves of pressure on Ayato, and drowned him, she sexually abused Laito, manipulated him and groomed him when he was a KID, forced Kanato to sing until he bled and made him watch her have intercourse with other men. This was the abuse the triplets went through until they finally had enough and attempted to kill Cordelia, which they succeeded.

3. Yes, it's true that Beatrix wouldn't give the triplets much attention or love, she would probably neglect them due to not being her biological children and belonging to her rival, however, Beatrix WOULD NEVER do the messed up stuff Cordelia did. Yes, she was a terrible mother to Shu and Reiji, yet she would've never stepped down at Cordelia's level.

4. A normal mother doesn't drown and threaten her child due to personal issues, A normal mother doesn't sexually abuse her child and grooms him to make him depend on her, and a normal mother doesn't force her child to watch her have sex with men and doesn't use his singing voice to get horny. If she was an affectionate mother ayato wouldn't have found the need to HIDE himself from her and the triplets wouldn't have considered killing her.

5. I would also like to add, that no matter how badly influenced Cordelia was, and no matter how much childhood trauma she went through, that would never be a justification for the way she treated her children. This does not only apply to Cordelia, this applies to every character and to real people as well. It's a reason why they behave that way, but never a justification. Also, Cordelia doing the bare minimum and behaving like an actual mother for a few moments does not mean she cares about her children. I don't think this is explicitly told, but I believe in those particular scenes she's grooming Kanato to become dependent on her like she did with Laito and Ayato.

6. ''She never spoke that way to her children'' I'm sorry but I have to laugh?? I would've understood if you were an anime only (not really) but taking into account that you do know about the games this is really really wrong lol. I don't why it's difficult to understand that Cordelia didn't love her children. Cordelia is such a bad mother that when she was resurrected in Ayato's DF route, she didn't even apologize to him or to his siblings, and yet he still forgave her! She even told Ayato to APOLOGIZE to her and continued to insult him

(Credits to @dialovers-translations)

I understand (I think everyone in the fandom does) that Cordelia had her reasons to behave this way (childhood trauma and manipulation) but that doesn't excuse her actions. I don't agree with people hating on Cordelia and loving Karlheinz but I also don't agree with people defending Cordelia and saying she did nothing wrong when she did.

Cordelia isn't a black-and-white character and she's not a bad character either, she's very well-written for her purpose (an antagonist) but she's not a good person or mother. She never regretted what she did and if she was still alive during HDB she would've still been abusive to the triplets.

This is my problem with morally grey characters/Evil characters. They can't exist in media if people ignore their wrongdoings and actions and try to justify said actions. I'm not saying that they shouldn't exist but I'm tired of people painting them as good people or justifying their actions when their whole purpose as a character is to show that they're not good people and their actions are/were wrong.

To finish off the post I would like to say that I love Cordelia's character and I consider her to be one of the best-written characters in Diabolik Lovers. In my opinion, I would've liked to know more about her in further games but even if I feel this way about her I don't justify her actions and that's something we should all do. I'm glad the fandom no longer justifies the actions of the characters (with some obvious exceptions). And even if I like Cordelia as a character I don't shame others for not liking her, at the end of the day she was a horrible person lol.

[solangeloficawards]

solangelo fic awards 2024 - winners!

happy valentines day guys!! <3 wanna thank everyone again for their participation and hype for this year!! just a reminder that this is all for fun, and if you were nominated but didn't win, there's always next year!! :)

and with that, here are our 2024 winners!! <3

nominations post

masterdoc

best angst!

1st place: When I Get Home to You by @2nd2ndalto (14 votes)

2nd place: work and play, they're never okay to mix the way we do by @buoyantsaturn (10 votes)

3rd place: if anybody asks, i'm taken (he is too) by @buoyantsaturn (9 votes)

best au!

1st place: IT'S A SCREAM, BABY! by @rosyredlipstick (25 votes)

2nd place: Doctor Doctor, Give Me the News (I've Got a Bad Case of Loving You) by @buoyantsaturn (6 votes)

3rd place: just an animal, looking for a home by @ikeasharksss (5 votes)

best canon compliant!

1st place: august by CordeliaRose (@cordelia---rose) (34 votes)

2nd place: three-in-one soap by @thelordofshrimp (8 votes)

3rd place: a handful of almosts by @thegoldenappleofdiscord (7 votes)

best fluff!

1st place: And now I have to act like I can't read your mind by @sunflowersandscreams (9 votes)

2nd place: good old-fashioned lover boy by brainrot247 (8 votes)

3rd place: just desserts by @thegoldenappleofdiscord (7 votes)

best oneshot!

1st place: buoyantsaturn by @buoyantsaturn (12 votes)

2nd place: cupid? more like stupid by @thelordofshrimp (11 votes)

3rd place: i love you more than i've ever loved myself by @thebhorror (7 votes)

best wip!

1st place: FAR GALAXIES by @rosyredlipstick (26 votes)

2nd place: kiss with a fist is better than none by @sunflowersandscreams (10 votes)

3rd place: it never took much convincing by penandblankpaper (@kiarrahatesboys) (5 votes)

best misc!

1st place: nico di angelo's autistic swag by @buoyantsaturn (14 votes)

2nd place: "it's so hard to hear over the sound of all the honking clown noses" by @buoyantsaturn (10 votes)

3rd place: up to speed by @solisaureus (8 votes)

best series!

1st place: The Ballad of Ladon Creek by Gates_of_Ember (@gatesofember) (15 votes)

2nd place: travel youtuber nico + some guy he's dating by @ethannku (11 votes)

3rd place: 1987 runaways au by @ikeasharksss (10 votes)

and...... (insert drumroll)

our author of the year for 2024 is @rosyredlipstick with 33 votes!!

runner up is @solisaureus with 12 votes!!

pls let me know if theres any broken links or anything wrong with the post! congratulations to all our winners! and we'll see you all next year <3

[callmeklair]

laito ♡

disclaimer: whatever I'm gonna say is based on my memory so if anything is misjudged, feel free to correct me. if you are reading this post thinking whatever I'm typing is with 100% guarantee or with full knowledge in DL, then you are making one of the biggest mistakes of your life.

I'm writing from whatever I remembered.

one thing I'm grateful to Rejet for, despite many neglected and unexplained plot points, is maintaining Laito's character development pace.

he is one of the most complex characters in DL and his trauma runs really deep. he was once a sweet boy ruined by Cordelia, further, trying to paint himself black in the horrible reality, thinking it's the right thing? by drowning himself in pleasure? to hide his loneliness? to hide his pain?

by the timeline in the dark fate game, every boy of the sakamaki household has warmed up to Yui and were in the lover's phase, but laito... ah, yes he was also already close to Yui and was lovey dovey but at the same time he was disoriented, even Carla wasn't able to predict him.

he tried to push Yui away, built up a wall again, tried making her hate him to protect her.

in case of his trust issues, don't remember if it was mentioned or not, but he never blamed Yui, it was him that he wasn't able to trust due to his past after all was he ever thought the correct way of love? no more than that, 'why will a vampire be taught love?'

laito is quick witted so is Reji, so is Shu. as much as I can remember these characters were the less likely ones to use their strength in Sakamaki DF, and only used their brains.

but they kept Yui to themselves and protected her under them. But Laito, conflicted. he wasn't able to trust himself on her, how was he supposed to protect her from Tsukinamis?

This is why I'm glad, despite his lover phase, he wasn't truly suddenly sunshine and rainbow with Yui because he was still dealing with his trauma. I mean as per DF timeline it wasn't that long since Yui came into their life, also, knowing Laito, there's no way they both sparked for each other at first sight so to me it was the perfect pace.

considering it was like a month or so between HDB & DF, and how it might have taken Yui a few weeks to get closer to them, Laito's DF route was understandable.

butttttt when Laito does overcome it little by little, and starts trusting himself on Yui, he is a clingy boyfie. I mean just look at his Lunatic Parade CGs

there's not even one CG where he hasn't kissed her or tried to get an opportunity/opening to kiss her.

i don't remember his LP route at all, so I need to re-read that once again. but until then, I'll just end this post here. anyone wanna add/correct something, feel free to comment/tell me/send me an ask, I'll happily edit my post. i won't be offended if there's something i wrote wrong and you come to correct me.

note: edited this at 2 am after it has been stuck in my draft for a month, so any wrong English/grammatical error, pls ignore it. I'll correct it later when I'm sober

[yuikomorii]

🍓🎀Hi! I think in one of the post somebody ask you who is smarter, Ayato or Yui? And i think you reply saying that both are dumb and stupid lol but one is dumb and the other is stupid?? Lmaoo I can’t remember how exactly was, but what’s that supposed to mean? Like is Ayato smarter than Yui or reverse? Because I remember Ayato having his cool smart moments lol I just want to know who is the most smartest between these two dumb ppl lol 😂 🎀🍓

// Oh, you mean this post?

The reasons why I said Ayato is dumber than Yui and Yui is more stupid than Ayato are the following:

Basically a dumb person is someone unwise, impulsive and unknowledgeable/uneducated. They act that way not necessarily because of a lack of mental capacity or learning ability, but due to the fact that they don’t know any better or they DON’T want to know any better.

For instance, in CL, before regaining his memories, Ayato impulsively tried to fight Shu and Reiji on his own but was easily overpowered, leaving him injured. Once he realized the consequences of his actions, he became much more cautious, especially after his memories returned, to avoid putting himself or Yui in danger again. Another scene shows Yui offering to tutor Ayato, however, she was surprised by the fact that he learnt how to solve the problems very fast and that he got all his test answers right.

Credit to: dialovers-translations on tumblr

A stupid person is someone with a lack of intelligence or learning ability. They might not be always dense, but they are supposed to know better, yet they choose to do the wrong thing deliberately.

For example, there’s the pool scene in Ruki’s MB and the lake scene in one of Subaru’s short stories, where Yui jumps into the water despite admitting she can't swim, putting herself in danger. Another moment occurs in Carla’s LE route when Carla warns Yui not to trust Kino because he might be evil, yet in the very next chapter, Yui casually reveals Carla’s Endzeit to Kino, leading Kino to attempt to kill Carla. There are many more moments like these, but I think these examples are enough to prove the point.

It’s quite common to see Japanese players complain about Yui’s poor learning ability. I feel like DL fans already got used to that, but I get that it can indeed become frustrating. xD

Aside from that, Ayato tends to be more objective than Yui. While he feels bad and shows compassion when it's warranted, he mostly sees things for what they are. Even though he sympathized with Cordelia in DF, he doesn't feel the need to sugarcoat her actions. Yui, on the other hand, is the type to quickly change her opinion about someone or something as soon as she hears a sob story. I get it when it comes to the Diaboys, but she actually tried to justify Cordelia’s and Karl’s actions, which honestly left me speechless.

Taking everything into account, it’s quite hard choosing which one is smarter, but I do believe that Ayato has a better learning ability and more potential, it’s just that he doesn’t want or know how to use it. I think the only reason why Rejet keeps writing him dumb is because Japanese fans find that type of idiot cute, as seen here.

[gilverrwrites]

Michael/Reader, 1.6K words Established vee dynamic: Michael/Adam & Adam/Reader, which will evolve into a triad. [1/3] Four things you explain to Michael, and one thing he explains to you. [X][2][3]

Chapter 1: Buffy, Bussin', and Kiss-Cams.

It took a while to get there but telling the differences between Adam and Michael had been easier than expected. Like now for example. If Adam was manning their body he would have slouched beside you on the couch, helped himself to your snacks, and asked you about your day. Instead, Michael stood, looming in the doorway of the living room. His stance is like a soldier at attention, head high, shoulders straight, watching you with no expression. 

“Hello, Michael.” You greeted. “How are you today?” 

“I am well.” He approaches, situating himself between you and the TV screen. “What is this?” 

“I’m good too, thank you for asking.” Social queues will likely never be his thing. “This is a TV show.” 

“I am aware.” His shoulders sag briefly, unamused by your sarcasm. Whether he understood that you were teasing is a mystery, he likely thinks that you’re an idiot who thinks he’s an idiot, which is arguably funnier. “I meant, what television show is it?” 

“Buffy.” You answer. “It’s actually really good, it’s about a teenage girl who is the chosen one-“ 

“Chosen?” He interrupts, but you let it slide. You wonder if he’s thinking of how he was once ‘chosen’, and now he’s here, metaphorically sandwiched between his partner and his partner's partner in a tiny apartment in Minnesota. He could leave at any time, commandeer their body, or escape it entirely and take off, but he doesn’t, he hasn’t. Which really speaks to how much he cares for Adam. 

“Yeah, she’s the one true slayer, kind of. So, she has to juggle killing vampires and stuff with normal high school things, like homework and boys.” 

He’s looking at the screen, not at you, but you can see his eyes narrow. You think he might be scrutinising your choice in vapid human media, but his response surprises you. 

“Yes, I recall Adam used to watch this show with his mother.” His probing glance falls back to you now. Adam is there, they’re both always there, but it still feels like you’re discussing him behind his back, so you awkwardly attempt to move on from the subject. 

“Oh, well… Would you like to sit and watch it with me?” You shuffle over, making space for him beside you and patting the pillow. 

“No.” Michael is just a blunt person? Being? Angel. So, you don’t take the sting of his rejection to heart. 

But despite his rebuttal, he makes no attempt to move. Instead, standing stock still in the middle of the room. Occasionally asking questions as the time passes. 

“Who is that?” 

“That’s Angel. Buffy’s sort of on again off again boyfriend.”

“Angel?”

“Yeah, he’s not an angel, he’s a vampire.” 

“How paradoxical.”

-

“That one reminds me of you.” 

“Who? Cordelia?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“She talks too much.” 

-

“Why does Willow simply not confront this Xander boy about her, albeit inadvisable feelings for him?”

“Teenagers are stupid.”

“Humans are stupid.” 

“Thanks.”

Four episodes later he remains unmoved, you’d tried not to speak to him unless spoken too, afraid you might scare, or more likely annoy him away, but your stomach is starting to grumble. 

“I’m gonna order takeout, do you want anything?” It’s not addressed to Michael, and he knows that. 

Their posture falters as Adam takes over. Adam also moves with confidence, but his is far more relaxed, comfortable in his own body. The couch pillows dip under his weight as he sits beside you, arm casually draping over your shoulders. He greets you with a familiar boyish grin that makes your heart flutter. “Pizza?”

Something is wrong. That much is evident by Michael’s uncharacteristically expressive face. He’d been silent when he’d returned home from the store, a chore he and Adam had taken up since their return from the cage, a familiar, easy task that helped to ease them into modern society. 

You could tell it was Michael because he’d been ignoring your presence since he returned home, quietly, and strategically putting away the shopping bar a solitary; “Hello.” 

Now he was eyeing a single can of Monster Energy Drink that sat alone on the kitchen counter. The intensity of his stare had you worried it might explode. You certainly would not be cleaning that up. 

“Something on your mind?” You ask, keeping your tone calm, and pleasant. Not letting on to your amusement at his one-sided staring contest. 

He spares you a scornful glance, before looking back at the can. Then he seems to have a light bulb moment, body perking up as he turns to you once more. He might actually think you’re useful for something other than Adams's enjoyment. 

“Yes. What is ‘bussing’?” The word sounds so comical coming from his lips, and you suppress a laugh, not wanting to patronise him or dampen his curiosity. 

“Bussin’?” You repeat, ensuring you heard him right. 

“Yes. ‘Bussing’. We heard a boy at the store use the word to refer to this. Adam nor I have heard the term used in this context before.”

Adam had filled Michael in on a lot of modern and pop culture things, but having been locked in a cage for the last decade meant that he was a little behind the times. You made a mental note to ask him later if not understanding the latest slang terms made him feel old. 

“It just means something is really good.” You explain, and his face drops.

He picks up the can, swaying it back and forth as he examines the label. It hisses as he eventually cracks it open, and his face scrunches when he gives it a sniff. 

Adam only eats and drinks to maintain a feeling of normalcy, Michael’s grace dissolving any actual need for human bodily functions. Michael never eats or drinks, so the prospect of his first taste of human food being a sip of Monster excites you greatly. What a terrible introduction. 

He must sense your anticipation because he turns, body shifting completely to face you. His face remains stoic, excluding his eyes which watch you hopefully as he extends the drink to you. “Would you like a taste?” 

“Uh, sure.” You take the can from him and allow yourself a mouthful before handing it back to him. It’s sugary, and sour, and abhorrently fizzy, just as you’d expected, but you try not to let your face give anything away. “It’s fine. Your turn.” 

“Fine.” He repeats under his breath, hesitating as he brings it to his lips. He takes a quick sip before slamming the can forcibly back onto the table, gritting his teeth, clearly repulsed by whatever is going on in his mouth right now. “That is not bussing.” 

Michael hadn’t exactly taken to human pastimes like a fish in water, preferring to take a back seat and let Adam enjoy himself. He had, however, found a great appreciation for war films, books about astronomy, and sports. Particularly, sports that had a strategy aspect to them. Which is how you’d found yourself in the bleachers of an ice hockey match beside him. 

Adam liked sports too, but not to the same degree. Michael sat, hunched over, weight on his knees as he watched the players glide across the ice, batting the puck this way and that. The match was tense, and the atmosphere lively, so you didn’t really mind his silence. You knew he wasn’t ignoring you, just focusing on the game. Even the quarterly breaks were filled with music, the big screen displaying funny accidents and lookalikes, which kept you entertained. 

All in all, you were having a good time, and when the kiss-cam popped up, you watched, amused as the camera crew zoomed in on different couples. You watched an array of different kisses, some cute, some awkward, some a little R-rated. It was all fun and games until you recognised yourself on the screen. 

Panic rushed through your body as you turned to look at Michael. You’d come around to the fact that Michael was always there. Always. Even for the intimate moments. But there was a massive difference between Michael being there during a kiss, and kissing Michael. 

You’re not sure if your sudden nervousness or the cheering crowd watching him from every angle clued him in, but Micheal takes notice, looking up at his own face on the display and asking; “Why are we on the screen?” 

“It’s a kiss-cam. They want us to kiss.” You hope that filling him in will bring Adam front and centre, but to no avail. Adam doesn’t want to play right now it seems. Probably revenge for implying he was old. “I’ll wave them away.” 

“Don’t.” He instructs, and before you can process what’s happening his lips are on yours. 

He tastes like Adam, like sugary cereal and cheap cola. He feels like Adam, clean-shaven and soft lips. But he does not kiss you like Adam. 

Adam kisses you like he might never see you again. Like it’s been a thousand years since he’s last laid his lips on you and he wants to commit every micro-movement of your body, every inch of your mouth to memory. His kisses are intense and passionate.

Micheal is the opposite, surprisingly. This might be the gentlest he’s ever been, he presses his lips to your delicately, like he might break you if he uses too much pressure. A hand cups the side of your face with the tenderness one would show a wounded animal. He kisses you like you’re made of glass and must be cherished. 

When he pulls away you feel completely flushed and unsure how to proceed. The kiss-cam is gone, and the screen counts down the seconds until the game continues. Micheal, in preparation, has resumed his watching position, leaving you to stew in your own emotions, likely oblivious to the many, many thoughts flooding your mind. 

Please remember: Being sensitive is not a weakness.

[stayevildarling]

Hi, I know you might be a little busy, so no rush. I wanted to ask you for a Cordelia x Wilhemina x Billie x Reader, where Reader after a run-in with witch hunters gets hurt and tries to hide it from her girlfriends, as she has always known how to take care of herself, but she may get sick at night and the girls trying to find out what's wrong with her discover the wound, a bit of angst with fluff at the end.

Thank you.

Translated with DeepL.com (free version)

Cordelia Goode x Wilhemina Venable x Billie Dean Howard x Reader- Born to Die

A/N: I have no way of prioritising my requests at this point but I got this a little while ago and I just had to considering the angst 😩 special mention and thanks to @stepintomyworld who encouraged me to add more of the reader comforting the characters in this one 🫶🏻

word count: 8k

tw: mention of blood, mention of violence, mention of anxiety, angst

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward, @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay, @whitelotus00, @ninaahs, @vintagepaulson, @isle-of-earle, @paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime, @ohrwurm26, @wastdstime

It had been a normal day so far, any normal weekend day at the academy really, most witches having gone to their families or doing some kind of activities outside of the coven, Billie, Cordelia and Wilhemina finally off work and enjoying the company of each other including you. Considering it was Saturday, you had been working in the greenhouse for a while, working on some spells and potions, preparing a class that was due teaching the following Monday.

Cordelia had been so incredibly busy, as well as the other two that you decided to head to the markets for her, despite Wilhemina and Billie offering the same but you always wanted to make sure that you took as much as possible off their busy plates. You couldn't begin to imagine how stressful it must be to be either of them. Billie constantly under the pressure of filming her show, chasing spirits and ghosts away. Despite her often joking about it and talking about the fun bits, you knew all too well about the deadlines that kept her up at night, as well as her high expectations of herself, as she always wanted to make her viewers happy. Let alone the spirits that would haunt her at night and visited her in her dreams and so it was a no brainer to help Billie out whenever you could.

The same with Cordelia, you knew how exhausting it must be to be the supreme, most powerful witch, the whole pressure of looking after every single one of her girls and the academy always heavy on her shoulders. And you knew that she also had some very high expectations, knowing that her mother often still haunted her and wanting so hard not to be like her and make the coven the place that she had always wanted. And so you couldn't help but take as many classes as possible off her plate, to the point where she wasn't part of the schedule anymore, and only taught occasionally whenever she felt like it or had some quiet time. In the evenings and afternoons, you would often help the supreme with anything that needed attending to, new applications, looking after some newcomers, anything to ease the weight of her responsibilities.

And at last you knew Wilhemina was no different, her career that she cared about so very deeply, having fought herself to the position she is in today. And despite her demeanour and her the one usually more quiet about those sort of things, you could tell how exhausting it must be at times, given her two idiot bosses that she would occasionally mention when talking about work, which was quite rare. And you knew about her expectations as well, wanting to be there for you three with all her heart, nothing ever too much for her. And in the process she often forgot to give herself that same kindness, gentleness and love. But you had taken that part a long time ago, knowing how exhausting the toll of Wilhemina's back was for her. And you always made sure to be a helping hand, as she would often find you being the one to schedule her doctors appointments, pick up her medication, prepare meals or baths for her. And she was reluctant at first, having only trusted Cordelia with those tasks so far, considering their dynamic and deep trust. But the one day she found out that you had taken over, she didn't even question it and ever since she would always show her appreciation through the love flickering in her eyes whenever they met yours. And that was all the thank yous that you had needed.

Your daydreaming comes to an abrupt stop, when you suddenly notice a shift around you. You had been done with all the stops, going from stall to stall and one shop with the list that Cordelia had given you, the weather had been lovely, warm as the sun was shining down on you, even causing you to take your cardigan off with the heat. However, as you walk down the long road towards the coven, it suddenly begins pouring down with rain, the sky filled with bright lightening and the sound of thunder startling you. And you could tell, somehow feeling it in your bones that something was off. You didn't have Cordelia's supreme senses but somehow you could always tell when something wasn't right, especially given the dramatic change in weather. As you stop walking for a moment, holding onto the shopping bags, you glance behind you, the pouring rain making it a little hard to see, but you wanted to check if there was some sort of danger as your body felt an odd sense of doom lurking nearby.

And out of the corner of your eyes, despite the pouring rain, you can see something. Your heart instantly stopping in your chest as you notice three dark shadows. Instantly your senses kick in as you think about what to do. It dawns on you that you had the strange feeling of being followed around the markets but you had brushed it off, maybe even foolishly. And then panic sets in as you decide what to do, should you run? maybe even teleport back to the academy? but at the same time you knew if you did that you would take them straight to the coven. And Cordelia had taught you all enough about the dangers that the academy faced at times that you for sure knew taking them there was an awful idea. But you couldn't think straight for a moment as your lungs force out some ragged breaths. And so you decide to cross the street, walking in the opposite direction, towards some crowds and people again, despite the heavy rain. Your hands were too full to call Cordelia and so the only thing you could do was close your eyes and focus on your magic without making it too obvious.

,,Cordelia?'' the supreme sits in her office, her eyes widening when she hears your voice in her head, the two of you mastering the ability of telepathy at this point as Cordelia had taught you a few years ago, a tool that would certainly come in handy now. As she balances on her feet, her movements rushed, Billie Dean is startled a little as the two of them had been talking in the supremes office, catching up about each other's week. ,,What is it?'' Billie asks, nervously, trying to read the blondes face. ,,Y/N, are you okay?'' she asks, closing her eyes as she sends the message to you. And as you hear her words repeat in your head, you doubt whether this was a good idea, whether getting them involved would even be smart and whether you might simply be paranoid. But as you turn around, the black shadows appear bigger, now only a few steps away from you, despite your best efforts. ,,Something is wrong, someone is following me'' you quickly think, sending a rush of adrenaline and panic across the blondes features yet again. ,,Where are you?'' she tries but you can't concentrate as the shadows grow even closer, the rain making it hard to walk, breathe or think as of right now.

And as Billie looks up at the supreme, she suddenly is left in shock as the blonde vanishes before her own eyes, knowing that she must have teleported somewhere but in utter horror and shock at the scene that unfolded and the lack of information she had on what was going on. As your breathing becomes more panicked, you suddenly stop as Cordelia appears in front of you, your eyes already brimming with tears. She stands in front of you, her gaze focused on you before she notices three men approach, almost reaching you two before she is quick to hold onto you, teleporting you both away from danger. ,,Wilhemina?'' Billie's voice rings through the quiet academy in the meantime. ,,Wilhemina?'' she tries again, the panic very noticeable in her voice and features. The redhead was currently sitting in her office, working through some last minute project when she hears her girlfriends voice in the hallway. And by the second time her name is called, she could tell something was off. And so she is quick to balance on her cane before finding a visibly shaken medium in front of her door.

,,What is it?'' she asks, her features stern, hiding her own concern. ,,It's Y/N and Cordelia'' Billie announces before they are startled with a noise coming from the supremes office. Billie's breath hitches as she makes her way over, Wilhemina following behind quickly, her cane echoing loudly through the quiet academy. As they approach the office, they find both you and the supreme there, you dropping the shopping bags, your clothes and face drenched with water from the pouring rain, your breathing hitching and Cordelia's worried expression. ,,What is going on?'' Wilhemina asks, her voice now matching Billie's hysteria from moments before. But you can't breathe yet and so you stand there frozen, pathetically trying to get your lungs to work, while Cordelia takes your cheeks into her hands, cupping them gently, wanting to coax you out of this so you could speak and fill them in.

It takes a few minutes before you manage to breathe and when you do the realisation that Cordelia had teleported you back ripples through you. ,,I.. I was at the markets and everything was fine but then it started thundering- and raining'' you begin, trying to focus to provide them with as much details as possible. ,,Men.. there were three men following me'' you finally speak. Billie and Wilhemina's faces change from concern to confusion, trying to understand your words. ,,It's fine darling, you are okay, you are home safe'' Cordelia tries, not understanding the full effects of the looming danger yet, Billie and Wilhemina equally confused but the redhead knowing you so well by now that she could tell there was something else on your mind. ,,What is it little one?'' she asks, as Cordelia instructs you to sit, your breathing again coming out hitched and panicked. ,,Witch- hunters... I think they may be... witch hunters'' you struggle before the realisation ripples through the three of them.

Cordelia's eyes widen, beginning to understand the full extend, internally scolding herself for not realising before, as she begins pacing, trying to think of something she could do, anything to keep the academy safe. ,,What makes you think that babydoll?'' Billie asks confused not necessarily understanding the connection. ,,It's.. I- I don't know, it's just a weird feeling I had'' you explain, glancing at Wilhemina who now stands beside you, one of her steady hands placed gently on your shoulder to tell you she is here and that she wasn't going anywhere. ,,I don't think you should have teleported us here Delia'' you begin, before she stops pacing to look at you. ,,I didn't teleport here for that reason'' you explain. ,,I think they watched me at the markets already, maybe they were looking for you'' you explain. Billie's heart sinks for a moment, before she connects the pieces ,,That could be possible, you go there every Saturday Delia'' she speaks, trying to control her emotions to stay on top of this.

,,If that is true, we may have just led them here'' you speak, not wanting to blame her whatsoever but more concerned with the wellbeing of your girlfriends and the witches left at the academy. ,,Shit'' the supreme curses, really not having thought that last bit through, the concern over you before too strong. ,,Okay we need to act fast, can you help me place another protection spell Y/N?'' the blonde asks, you quickly nodding and up on your feet before you abruptly freeze, startling all three of them. And then it's back, that odd feeling, the feeling of looming danger nearby, doom. ,,They are here'' you whisper, being able to feel their presence as they somehow get past the protection spells and enter the academy. ,,How many witches are here?'' you whisper, towards Cordelia. ,,Just the twins'' she explains, pointing at two rather new members. ,,Keep them safe, I'll look after these two'' you whisper, with quick words, the supreme hesitating for a moment before remembering your abilities and nodding, glancing at you three one more time before leaving.

And then you turn around, catching a glimpse of Wilhemina and Billie who both look utterly terrified. Billie shivering with fear, Wilhemina seeming more composed on the outside but her eyes spoke lengths. ,,Listen'' you whisper, barely audible ''I need you both to stay here while I find Delia'' you begin, but by their faces you could tell they would never let you do this willingly. ,,No way Y/N'' Billie scolds, shaking her head vividly at your suggestion. ,,I'll be two minutes'' you announce but you knew there was no way they would let you go, Wilhemina's angry eyes piercing straight through you. As you begin taking some steps towards the door, the redhead is quick to grab your arm, not letting you go under any circumstances considering the dangers. You nod before whispering ,,Let me put a protection spell on the door at least'' you whisper again, barely audible. They nod, Wilhemina letting go off you before you make your way to the door, closing your eyes, before chanting a strong protection spell, one that would make it impossible for anyone to enter and evenly them to get out.

,,I'm sorry'' you mouth the words before turning around and teleporting away from them, Wilhemina's cane banging in the process ,,Damn it'' Billie snaps, watching you escape their grasps. And with a swift motion, you find yourself downstairs by the staircase. The academy was dead silent and if it wasn't for your intuition, no one would know anything was off and that anyone had entered the usual safe walls of the academy. It was also incredibly dark, the only light source, the occasional lightening from outside, illuminating the usual bright academy. With careful steps, you walk towards the nearest wall, using your witchcraft to carry you further as you make it towards the hallway, now finally hearing some footsteps and being able to tell they weren't from Cordelia. Your brain blanks a little bit as you try to think what to do, whether you should guide them away from here, whether to confront them head on, knowing your powers would be more powerful than their weapons.

As you make it to a door, you poke your head around it, catching a glimpse of one of the shadows, dressed entirely in black before you raise your hand, making him fly across the room, hitting his back on a nearby wall, by the lack of noise assuming he was unconscious for now. ,,What was that?'' another dark low voice asks, making you halt your steps as he was much closer than you initially believed. ,,It's the witches'' another one speaks before you find another one approaching, walking towards the unconscious one. However before you can do anything, Cordelia startles you as you catch a glimpse of her sneaking down the staircase. As soon as her eyes land on you, her eyebrows furrow, brushing the thought away as one was very close to the supreme, his stupidity and the darkness causing him not to see her yet. With a swift motion, she has him equally by the nearest wall, his hands tied behind his back, his mouth covered, only letting the smallest, most pathetic noises escape.

Before you know it, you suddenly feel a sharp pain on the back of your head, before another one is added to your back, causing you to squint your eyes shut, the pain overwhelming you for a moment before you lose your balance. You watch as Cordelia approaches the two witch hunters on the floor, not having seen the third one evidently behind you. But as you watch him approach her, sneaking up behind her, you quickly focus on your magic, adding him to the pile of monsters on the floor, causing him to lose consciousness, dropping the weapons in the process. Cordelia gasps a little as she turns around, seeing you holding onto the nearest wall. And then as danger is averted, the sky fills with the same bright tones of yellow that it had before, the sun shining warmly, instantly illuminating the academy with light again. With a flick of your wrist you release the protection spell around Cordelia's office, knowing they would both be furious with you for this and not wanting to keep them locked in any longer, knowing danger was gone for now.

,,Are you okay?'' Cordelia asks, looking over to you, torn between running to you and checking on you and letting out her wrath on the three figures, knowing despite danger being averted for now, the real work would begin for the supreme now as she had to figure out whether they worked individually, whether they are a part of an organisation. Knowing she would need to take them to the council for further questioning, needing to figure out how they managed to get past the protection barrier of the academy. ,,I'm fine Delia, are you?'' you ask and she simply nods, before kneeling down, taking off one hood by one, trying to see whether she knew them, whether her magic could tell her anything about what had happened. And then as the throbbing pain returns in your back and head, you catch a glimpse of Billie running down the stairs, Wilhemina's cane echoing hard and loud against the marble floor, their faces filled with concern, fear and panic.

,,Is everyone okay?'' Billie asks, taking a step back when she notices the three figures on the floor. ,,All okay Billie'' Cordelia quickly announces, phone already in hand to alert the council about this, as well as Zoe. ,,What the hell was that?'' Wilhemina's angry voice rings through the air, only adding to the pounding in your head. You knew she was talking to you, you knew she was going to be furious with you and you knew it would need a lot of explaining, as she for sure wouldn't just accept your pathetic apology of wanting to keep them and the coven safe. As she descends the stairs, making her way over to you, your legs suddenly feel a little weak, face growing paler and you could definitely feel something warm running down your head, neck and back. ,,I'm so sorry Mina'' you apologise, closing your eyes to fight back the pain and brace for the impact of her words. ,,I just needed to keep you both safe'' you apologies again, and Billie is quick to shoot Wilhemina a glance, the glance telling her that this wouldn't be the right time now.

,,Y/N?'' Cordelia asks, causing you to open your eyes and look at her through your blurry vision. ,,Can you teleport one of them to the council with me? I'll take the other two'' she announces and you try nodding, quickly realising that was a mistake before muttering out a quick ,,Yes''. As you take some unsteady steps towards her, you brush past both Wilhemina and Billie who both look at you, as you try and muster up your best smile, hiding the pain, not wanting to worry them further. ,,We should be back in a few hours, but the coven is safe'' Cordelia announces, having now placed another protection spell around the walls of the academy. ,,Billie darling, can you check on the twins for me?'' she asks, Billie quickly nodding. You take one last glance at Wilhemina before putting your arm around one of them, glancing at Cordelia who gives you the signal to teleport.

And then again, the two of you, including the men are out of your girlfriends sights, Billie sighing before glancing at Wilhemina and making her way upstairs to check on the twins. Cordelia must have already alerted the council beforehand as when you arrive at another school for witches and warlocks, they are already waiting for you both. Both you and Cordelia are quick to hand the men over, the supreme already discussing with the witches and warlocks on what had happened. You pause for a moment, the pain now very evident as you search for the nearest bathroom, Cordelia not really noticing your absense as her main concern was the safety of the coven, assuming at first you were following behind her. It's not until she determinedly fills them in, turning around to speak to you when she notices your absence. Her features tense a little, eyebrows furrowing as she looks around the room, trying to find you among the council of witches and warlocks.

Meanwhile you had found the nearest bathroom, having been here a few times for some council meetings. As you balance on your tip toes with the last energy you have left, turning around, you lift up your shirt, revealing a significant wound and how your shirt was now mostly stained with blood. You had been so caught up in the hectic of things, wanting to keep the academy and your girlfriends safe that you had no idea what actually happened, but by the wound you assume it must have been some sort of knife as the bleeding wasn't stopping yet. Your hair is hiding the other wound, causing the throbbing headache but you couldn't move well and so all you can do for now is linger your hands over it, knowing your healing magic was nothing compared to Cordelia's but it would do for now. With a swift motion, you adjust your jacket, checking one more time for no obvious signs of injury before returning to the witches and your girlfriend.

Cordelia is content seeing you, taking a mental note to check in on you in a little while, still explaining the events that had taken place. It takes several hours, several attempts of a truth enhancing spell, making the men spill their intentions, actions. And it was slow, painful even but eventually, mostly with Cordelia's help they could leave the three of them with the council, leaving their faith in their hands after realising that they weren't a part of some bigger scheme, the three men operating on their own. And so in the end, it allows both you and Cordelia to finally head home, the sun having already set a while ago as the two of you finally teleport back to the academy. And the supreme had noticed, how quiet you had been, observing carefully from the back, answering some council questions here and there but wondering whether you simply felt guilty for what happened with Billie and Wilhemina or if maybe the events had traumatised you, still unaware of your injuries.

,,Sweetheart, are you alright?'' she asks, her features almost stern as she takes in your appearance and slightly pale expression. ,,I'm fine Delia'' you try to convince her with your biggest smile and if it wasn't for her own worries lingering on her mind, she would have noticed that it was forced, that in fact you aren't okay, simply hiding your true state in order to not make them worry. In fact the events lingered on her mind, causing her to feel guilty for not thinking this through before, how her concern over you had clouded her, how you had managed to sense the dangers but she hasn't. You could tell by the shaking of her hands and the guilt in her eyes that she felt awful, that she still didn't feel safe, that she was triggered by the events from today as they had happened in the past and taken everything from the blonde. And you didn't need to guess to know that she was thinking of her mother, that same voice back, reminding her how weak she was for not seeing this coming, how she didn't do enough to protect the academy in the first place.

As the two of you linger in the hallway, you can't help but stop her from sprinting upstairs to check on everyone yet. And so you step in front of her, meeting her brown concerned eyes before speaking softly. ,,Delia, hold on'' you speak softly, causing for her eyes to lock with yours. ,,Are you okay?'' you ask gently, your eyes pleading with her, telling her that you knew and that this was okay. She sighs then, doing that lip twitch thing, exposing her own vulnerability in this moment. ,,Come here'' you offer, opening your arms in an inviting way and with a sigh, she takes you up on the offer, almost collapsing into your arms as the weight slowly tumbles from her tense shoulders. ,,It's okay'' you reassure, squeezing her a little tighter to make sure she knew you are there and that you had got her. You ignore the throbbing pain in your back as her hands linger on it unknowingly.

As the two of you pull away after a while, you find her tear stained eyes and quickly wipe her cheeks. ,,You did great Delia, you protected us all'' you reassure before speaking again ,,And none of this is your fault'' you smile at her, before she can't help but chuckle. ,,How did you know that?'' she asks, almost a little shy and innocently before you raise an eyebrow. ,,Well duh Delia, I am a witch'' you grin, causing her to chuckle a little before pressing a kiss to your forehead. It doesn't take long before the two of you are interrupted, Wilhemina's cane and Billie's heels echoing through the large hallway, finding you both back home safe and sound. ,,Oh thank god'' Billie breathes out in relief, seeing you both back. She is quick to walk over to you both, pressing a kiss to your lips and equally the supremes moments later. And as Cordelia fills Billie in on what happened, answering every single one of her questions, you glance at Wilhemina, almost not daring to meet her eyes as the guilt from your earlier actions weighs heavily on your mind and heart.

However as you meet her eyes, her expression is much softer, forgiving almost and unbeknownst to you, Billie had already managed to calm the redhead down, telling her that if either her or the medium could have done what you did, they would have done it as well. Wilhemina not liking the thought of you putting yourself in danger, especially to protect them but knowing she would have done the same if her abilities had allowed her to. And so as you finally reach her, you feel the urge to hug her, looking up to meet her brown eyes. But as you glance up at her, you could see pain and as you observe a little closer, taking in her posture, you can tell her back was killing her. And it killed you truly, how much her back would continue burdening her, how stressful events like today especially took a toll on her. You hesitate for a moment, knowing you needed to play your cards right with this as your earlier actions still may have some anger lingering on her mind regarding that, possibly even you breaking her trust a little.

,,Are you okay, little one?'' she asks carefully, her voice hushed as Billie and Cordelia make their way into the kitchen, Billie already having prepared some dinner for the four of you. ,,Yes, I'm okay Mina'' you whisper, looking up as your guilty eyes meet hers again. ,,Are you?'' you ask and by the way she averted her eyes you could tell that she wasn't. ,,I'm sorry about earlier'' you apologise, the weight of the guilt almost feeling like dragging you down as well as the continued throbbing in your back and head. ,,It's okay little one'' she speaks softly as a little smile coats her features and you could tell she was being genuine and despite you wanting to explain further, you didn't feel like it as of right now, everything feeling a little much. ,,Dinner is ready you two'' Cordelia announces softly and you simply look at the redhead before following her into the kitchen. As you make it there, the light is dim, the only source some candles and the soft glow from the lamplight illuminating the kitchen. It smells heavenly and you chuckle internally for a moment, knowing there was no way Billie had cooked this and wondering if maybe Wilhemina had or whether the medium had ordered it.

Despite the feeling of normality and the events from today almost fading from your memory, you didn't feel like joining them, urgently wanting a shower and to wash away the reminders of the pain from today. The three of them notice your hesitation to sit down, and you avert their gazes before speaking ,,I- I was just going to shower if that's okay'' you announce and for the first time Cordelia really notices then that something was off with you, how quiet you had been and almost withdrawing a little. She stands up, quickly making her way over, taking in your features and noticing just how pale you are, how tired you seem. ,,Of course darling but are you okay?'' she asks, her eyes piercing through you. It takes all your strength to lie, despite hating it but you knew they each suffered today and you didn't want to add. And so you muster up your best smile, before assuring her that you are just fine and making your way upstairs. As they watch you leave, the concern lingers on their beautiful features, eventually fading a little as Cordelia fills them in on what the council and her had discovered, that the coven was safe.

As you stand in the shower, shivering a little at the cold sensation prickling at your skin, you can't help but see the pile of blood stained clothes on the floor, as well as the blood drawing out from the water, pooling by your legs. You almost feel sick at the sight, trying to turn towards the mirror but not being able to see. And so you reach for the back of your head, trying to figure out what had happened but it quickly turns out to be a mistake as the pain is so severe that it almost causes you to lose your balance altogether. In a pathetic attempt, you linger your hands over the back of your head, making the pain go away for now and causing for the blurring off your vision and the feeling of unsteadiness to go away. After finally making it out of the shower and into some clean clothes, you quickly hide all the evidence from your injuries, before making your way downstairs. You find Billie lingering outside the little backdoor and smoking, smiling at you as you pass her. Cordelia is cleaning some dishes, her features seeming a lot less tense and more relaxed now.

Wilhemina is still sitting at the table when you make your way over, gently placing some tablets next to her, knowing her back was definitely killing her by now. She meets your eyes, thankful yet hesitant of the gesture. ,,I ran you a bath Mina, it's ready upstairs for you if you'd like'' you explain hesitantly, unsure how she was going to take it. Cordelia smiles lovingly at you, appreciating your kindness and how nice you always treated them all. The blonde glances at Wilhemina, her eyes pleading her to soften up a little. The redhead nods, swallowing the tablets before giving you a warm smile and making her way upstairs. As you take a seat, you feel two warm arms wrap around you from behind and by the lingering sense of cigarettes and perfume you could tell it was Billie Dean. You ignore the piercing pain as she unintentionally leans her chin on your shoulder, sending waves of pain through your head and back, causing you to scrunch up. And this time, Cordelia picks it up, seeing your expression as she places a plate of food in front of you, her features instantly tensing.

,,Y/N?'' she asks carefully, her eyes meeting Billie's as yours shoot open a little, quickly trying to compose yourself. ,,What's wrong?'' Billie asks, moving away from you a little in order to see what was bothering you. ,,Nothing Delia, just tired'' you lie again, hating it regardless and your magic had alerted you a while ago that the supreme had tried entering your thoughts, you assume unintentionally as her magic sometimes did that, especially when worrying but you didn't want them to worry so you quickly muster up your best smile and eat the food that Cordelia had given you, hoping it would coax the concern from their features. As the night wears on a little while later, the three of you had decided to head to the bedroom a little earlier than usual, Billie retreating to another bathroom for a bit to finish her beauty routine while Wilhemina was finishing up in the bathroom. Cordelia checking on the remaining witches at the academy one more time and making sure all the doors are locked, windows are closed and the protection spell still strong.

When Wilhemina returns, you can tell that her features are much less tense, posture more stable as well and as she carefully moves to her side of the bed, Cordelia and Billie to your left. The redhead finds another sweet gesture on her night table, she finds that you had left her a glass of water, her nighttime medication and a heating pad so she could get a good nights sleep. And the gesture almost brings tears to her eyes, glancing at you to find you nestled next to Cordelia and Billie. The redhead is quick to get onto her side of the bed, next to you and appreciating your efforts and the pain slowly leaving her body. As you glance at Cordelia and Billie, you could tell that the supreme seemed much less tense now, of course the concern and events from today still lingered on her mind but she seemed calmer, Billie already dozing off a little while ago, her soft snores filling the room ever so quietly. As you turn around, you look at Mina, who you find smiling at you, her eyes piercing right through you as if they silently communicated with your own.

And again you felt the urge to hug her, to hold her close and this time she picks it up, lowering herself on the bed a little to get comfortable, heating pad tucked gently on her back. ,,Come here'' she offers and you comply, snuggling into her side as she wraps an arm around you, Billie subconsciously holding onto you as well as she spoons into you. ,,I'm sorry'' you whisper, almost inaudible but your girlfriend picks it up, looking at you, her eyebrow raised ever so slightly. ,,Why are you sorry little one?'' she whispers, almost a little confused. ,,I didn't mean to scare you before'' you admit, your eyes already brimming with tears, the events from today finally catching up on you. Her features soften before you speak again ,,I just wanted to keep you both safe'' you admit, meeting her brown eyes and she is quick to wipe your tears, keeping you comfortable. ,,I know little one, I know'' she reassures pulling you a little closer and holding you tight.

Eventually sleep washes over you, your eyelids feeling heavy and both Billie and Wilhemina's arms holding you close. It isn't until several hours later, when you wake up, feeling another shift in the air, feeling the medium shivering into your side. You are quick to turn around, face the blonde, ignoring the pounding headache and that same warmth lingering on your back. ,,Billie?'' you try softly, noticing her features tense, her whole body stiff and shivering, tears running down her cheeks and you quickly figured she was having a nightmare. ,,Billie'' you try again, glancing around you to find both your other girlfriends asleep. She wakes then, her eyes widening as more tears stream down her cheeks, but you are quick to wipe them away. ,,Shh'' you try soothing her, finding her hand underneath the blanket and holding onto her. ,,It's okay Billie, you had a nightmare'' you assure and the medium is quick to compose herself, usually denying the nightmares whenever one of you mentioned them.

You watch her hesitate, seeing the fight she was fighting internally of opening up. ,,What did you dream about Billie?'' you ask her carefully, smiling warmly at her before pulling her a little closer. And then it kinda bursts out of her, telling you how she was so scared of losing either of you, how brave you had been and glad she is that everyone is fine. And you hold her through every confession, every tear, every sob, before gently coaxing her back to sleep, whispering words of comfort and affection and how she isn't alone, how you are all right there for her. And it does take a little while but before too long her soft sounds fill the bedroom again and you sigh a little then, the pain now almost unbearable as that took any leftover strength you had. And then it kinda dawns on you that something was wrong, how the pain that you had been pushing away didn't feel normal.

With the last strength left, you somehow manage to force yourself out of bed, trying your best to stay as quiet as possible as you try to make your way to the bathroom, feeling the blood run down your neck and back but almost not feeling it as everything is spinning, your cheeks flashed hot and your vision blurry. Somehow you manage to find the bathroom, the light instantly startling you due to the bright sensation. And for a moment all you can do is close the door, sliding down the bathtub and sitting on the floor, trying to breathe. And it doesn't take long for Cordelia to wake up, hearing your footsteps and her supreme senses alerting her of something, despite her not too sure what that was just yet. The darkness causes her to reach for the light on her bedside, the bright sensation causing her to squint her eyes closed for a moment. She hovers above Billie, trying to find you on the bed but she finds your spot empty and as she moves, Wilhemina is also awake quickly, a light sleeper anyway.

Their eyes seem to linger on your pillow and where you had been laying before almost at the same time, noticing the red stained sheets and the lingering blood and their eyes widen then as they meet across the bedroom despite the darkness of the night. Cordelia's eyes widen as Wilhemina is already reaching for her cane, both quickly on their feet. The bathroom light peaks underneath the door as they walk towards it, Cordelia quick to speak first ,,Y/N, are you alright?'' she asks and when you hear her voice, despite it being faint, you could tell that there was no way you could hide this from them any further. In a pathetic attempt to make this any better, you try balancing on your feet but it's pointless and before you know it, both the blonde and redhead are already walking towards you, Cordelia quick to kneel beside you, Wilhemina lingering nearby, her face filled with concern and confusion.

,,What is it baby?'' the blonde speaks softly, her hands instantly wandering to your cheeks, seeing your pale expression. ,,What hurts darling?'' she asks again, her voice a little firmer this time as she could tell you are struggling to keep your eyes open, unaware that the last few minutes you had fought the battle of unconsciousness with all you have got. Wilhemina struggles to watch you like this, your face so neutral despite the very obvious pain lingering in your eyes. Meanwhile, Cordelia tries propping you forward, not being able to see any obvious signs of injury anywhere before she gasps seeing your back. The t-shirt you were sleeping in before, mostly stained in a crimson red and she panics then, not understanding at first what had happened and where this was suddenly coming from. ,,Little one, speak to us please'' Wilhemina ushers, the concern now very visible in her features and voice as she kneels down equally, leaning on her cane and if you could think clearly you would have scolded her, reminded her of her back but you couldn't think as the only thing on your mind was them. Little memories with them clouding your mind, causing you to forget about the pain for a moment.

Cordelia was usually the calm and composed one in these situations but somehow today had caused for her own anxiety to betray her as she helplessly looks at Wilhemina, unsure what to do. The redhead is quick to usher her to get you to lay down, as the blonde in a swift motion has you facing to your side, for the first time getting a good look at your injuries. And she gasps then, in disbelief and not remotely understanding where this came from. Towards the middle of your back a long deep cut is to be seen, Wilhemina balancing on her cane to get a look and despite remaining silent, her heart breaks at the sight. She has a feeling this may have happened today and how you continued powering through it all and not mentioning any of it and the redhead feels conflicted, seeing so much of herself in you but knowing the pain that burden carried and always having tried to protect you from just that.

The blonde is quick to hover her shaking hand over the wound, with a quick motion making it disappear altogether as her healing powers are quite strong, being the supreme and all. In anticipation she leans over your shaking body, noticing how you aren't quite with them still but on the first try, she can't seem to find any other obvious signs of injury. ,,Y/N darling'' she tries but it's hopeless as the pain in your head was getting more severe by the minute. The energy in the room shifts, Cordelia being able to think clearly now as panic sets in Wilhemina's features, unsure how to handle with you not being responsive. And so the supreme does the only thing she can think of at that moment, closing her eyes, before touching your forehead, shaking as she enters your thoughts, the events from today replaying in her mind.

And then like a little movie, she sees and feels the pain you had endured today, getting a glimpse of you in the bathroom, in the shower and what actually got you to these wounds. And it's painful as little images float in your mind, images with your girlfriends, happy memories and the sight brings tears to her eyes. ,,What is it?'' Wilhemina asks sternly, as the supreme opens her eyes again, understanding what the headmistress had done moments before. ,,We need to check her head'' Cordelia announces, gently moving your hair to the side to get a better look at the back of your head. Her fingers already stain in blood before she sees the wound and Wilhemina can't help but sigh, seeing the state you are in and how you soldiered through it all on your own. Blaming herself for not knowing sooner, thinking about what could have happened if they never found you tonight.

Cordelia is quick to hover her hand over your head again, this wound taking a little longer to heal but she manages nevertheless. Wilhemina breathes out in relief, watching as the blood slowly fades away, from your back, the back of your head and her girlfriends hands. ,,Sweetheart?'' Cordelia tries, nudging your shoulder a little as she carefully moves you to face her. Wilhemina watches as your eyes remain closed, confusion washing over her face, the concern still evident on her features. ,,Y/N darling, I need you to wake up'' she tries again, this time a little sterner and at last your eyes finally open, the bright sensation causing them to squint shut before realising you are on the bathroom floor and seeing their expressions. ,,Shit'' you think to yourself, quickly composing yourself and forcing yourself up. And as you are back on your feet, you quickly realise it was a mistake as your vision blurs, little stars forming around you.

And you should have known, knowing Cordelia's magic was strong and despite assuming she fixed your injuries, your face grows pale, the supreme quickly behind you to catch you. ,,Hey hey'' she coos, keeping you balanced as she helps sit you down on the edge of the large bathtub. ,,You're okay'' she reassures, glancing at Wilhemina who's features at this point are beyond readable, the initial shock of concern slowly replaced with anger. Despite the dizzy spell, you could tell she was furious with you, opening your mouth to apologise but the words get caught in your throat. And at last the medium had woken, stumbling into the bathroom as she holds onto the door frame for support. ,,What happened?'' she asks, a little dumbfounded, her voice still hoarse from sleep.

,,As per usual Billie, you missed everything'' Wilhemina remarks, her features stern as she balances on her cane, leaving you with the supreme and medium. You feel the strange urge to follow your redhead girlfriend, to apologise for the consequences from your actions but you still couldn't walk properly and so all you can do is close your eyes, trying to fight back the tears of them being upset with you. ,,Babydoll'' Billie begins, kneeling beside you ,,Delia what happened?'' she asks, confused, feeling terrible for missing everything. Cordelia glances at Billie before her eyes travel back to your own, a flicker of sadness in them as she couldn't believe you would have kept it from them for this long, usually her being the one that needed to coax this sorta stuff out from Wilhemina. And knowing you knew how to take care of yourself but this just seeming utterly unlike you.

,,What?!'' Billie's voice ripples through the air, awakening you from your daze as you didn't listen to a single thing Cordelia had said, too focused on your loud thoughts and the guilt that was beginning to crush you with each second passing. And then before the medium can scold you as well, you balance on your legs, quickly walking away before either of them can stop you, brushing past Wilhemina as well before making your way downstairs, not remotely in the mood to deal with any of it as you hide away in your usual sanctuary the greenhouse. And instantly the calm tranquility of plants and peace makes you feel at ease, wiping the tears that you had no idea streamed from your cheeks before.

Billie is quick to rush after you, Cordelia however stopping her as she knew you needed to calm down for a while and knowing your injuries are healed. ,,Billie wait'' she ushers, the medium stopping in her tracks. Wilhemina remains quiet and composed as the two of them talk, pretending to not listen to their words. ,,Why would she not tell us?'' the medium asks, glancing at the sheets covered in the same shade of red from before. ,,I don't know'' Cordelia sighs, rubbing her temples in frustration, with a flick of her wrist making the blood stains disappear from the bed. ,,I don't understand'' Billie argues, fiddling nervously with her nails before Wilhemina's voice rings through the air again, startling the two of them in the process. ,,It's because she didn't want us to know'' she begins, Cordelia's features filled with pain listening to her girlfriends words. ,,Because she would rather take care of us and protect us than ask for help'' she adds, causing for her girlfriends eyes to slowly swell with tears.

The room fills with silence as the minutes pass by, neither of them speaking, the anger slowly subsiding from Wilhemina's features, more concerned with your wellbeing and feeling the strong urge to find you and hold you close, considering how brave you had been. ,,Let me find her'' Cordelia announces, not liking the idea of you being on your own. Your peace and quiet is interrupted when the blonde makes an appearance in the greenhouse, knowing she would be able to find you there as you always hid away in the comfort of the greenhouse, her being the only one to truly understand how special the place really was. And she lingers by the doorway for a moment, unsure whether you had managed to calm down yet. ,,Sweetie?'' she asks gently, coaxing you right back into the present and away from your thoughts. As soon as your eyes land on her, you falter, feeling terrible and tears already brimming in your eyes.

,,Delia I'm sorry'' you announce quickly before she walks over to you, her stepped rushed as she wants nothing more than to hold you in her arms. ,,Sweetie'' she coos, tilting her head as she walks over before her arms wrap around you, holding you close to her chest. The two of you stay like this for a while, before she takes in your features, taking your cheeks into her hands. ,,You have nothing to be sorry for darling'' she reassures, locking eyes with you to make her statement more believable. ,,You kept us safe sweetheart'' she speaks before your eyes avert hers again. ,,I wish you would have told me darling, so I could have fixed it though''. Her words are gentle and warm, just like your Delia and somehow you feel safe, believing her and slowly feeling calmer. ,,How about we get you back upstairs sweet girl?'' she tries but your eyes find hers again, betraying your own anxiety as you fear the reaction from the other two.

,,You don't need to worry darling, I promise'' she ushers before taking your hand and leading you back inside. You simply follow, feeling too tired to argue and still feeling the lingering headache. As the two of you walk through the dark academy, you feel safe with Delia as you would follow her everywhere, even straight into hell and back. Before too long, the two of you make it back into your bedroom, Billie already tugged in again, despite being awake, Wilhemina sitting on her usual bedside, awaiting your return. And as you glance at them, you can tell their features are much softer, Cordelia settling behind Billie so she could hold you as she already waits in anticipation to hold you into her arms. Reluctantly, you crawl into bed, sitting there a little awkwardly before Billie pulls you close ,,Please never scare us like this again babydoll'' she warns, her eyes filled with nothing but softness and kindness and you simply nod before she presses a kiss to your cheek, content to have you back in her embrace.

A long time passes, while you stay in Billie's embrace, before you dare glance at Wilhemina who sits in silence beside you. As your eyes meet her own, she carefully observes your features, checking for any signs of lingering pain but all she can find is sadness in your beautiful eyes and it causes for her heart to ache. Subconsciously, your hand wanders towards hers, before holding onto it, and it takes her by surprise but she doesn't mind, simply squeezing it a little to reassure she was there. ,,I-'' you begin speaking but she is quick to stop you. ,,Little one it's okay'' she reassures, knowing that you were about to apologise for the millionth time. ,,You scared me that's all'' she explains as she presses a kiss to the back of your hand. ,,Come here'' she offers and you wiggle away from Billie's arms and move into hers. You find yourself nestled in her arms, as she holds you close before resting her chin on your head, before she begins speaking again ,,I never want you to hide from us again little one'' she scolds a little, her voice remaining gentle. ,,You deserve every bit of care that you show us'' she reminds you.

And as your eyes meet hers, you see the genuine love in them as well as the relief of having you in her arms safe and sound. ,,Promise me'' she urges before you meet her eyes. ,,Promise'' you whisper, smiling at her. ,,Good girl'' she praises before pressing a kiss to your forehead and wrapping you back into her arms. And then as the night wears on, you find yourself where you belong in the arms of your lovers and despite the chaos that today had brought upon the four of you, you know that no matter what, you have each other's back and before you slowly fall asleep, you remember the promise you have made to your girlfriend, wanting to be better and open up to them more. ,,I'm here little one, you're okay'' she coos before your eyelids feel heavier and Wilhemina eventually coaxes you to sleep.