#indigo child. but i know someone else who is and they are still … so confined to themselves in a way that i am just not

[kenjikutie]

Back to the Future [Tamaki Amajiki]

summary: when your future child with your boyfriend arrives on the doorstep of the 3-a dorms, fluff, chaos and general panic is bound to ensue word count: 2k pairing: tamaki amajiki x fem!reader warnings: none!

most days, tamaki would thank whatever being there was above him for the mere fact that he was able to hold your hand anytime he wanted to, not that he did, of course. he was constantly overwhelmed by any little affectionate action send his way, whether it was a peck on the temple or a steamy makeout session in one of your dorm rooms. it truly didn’t matter what it was, if it involved your lips, he was sure to be a blushing puddle on the floor

however, this didn’t mean that tamaki wouldn’t cuddle with you of his own volition. the last thing he ever wanted to do was make you feel like you were carrying the weight of the entire relationship. tamaki loved you and he had to make sure you knew, even if he couldn’t untie the knot in his throat anytime he wanted to say it out loud

so, instead of that, he would let his love be expressed through how tight of a hold he had on you during the night. his arms would wrap around your waist while his face was buried in your chest, the adorable indigo tips of his hair settling on your collarbone. you swore that even if something tried to take you from his grasp, they wouldn’t be able to move you more than an inch without him waking up with a whine

but, this clingy nature only existed in the confines of your dorm rooms, due to tamaki’s shyness. because of this, the two of you were sitting next to one another on the common room's sofa, shoulders touching as the rest of the class paid close attention to the famous pixar film, up, playing on the tv. your eyes were also glued to the screen due to your childhood love of the movie, but tamaki was focused on playing with your fingers, trying to distract himself from how many people were gathered in the room

every time a joke was told, you giggled, turning to nejire to laugh some more at her comments on the scene. tamaki, however, would be too concentrated on the small crinkles on your eyes when you laughed and how beautiful your smile was. sometimes, he would overwhelm himself and turn bright red, despite you not even doing anything

a knock on the large front doors of the dorm building caused tamaki to let go of your hand and look up at you, silently wishing that you wouldn’t go answer it, just because he didn’t want you to move. his wish was granted when mirio happily ran to the doors and the rest of the class turned around to see who had paid them a visit. when mirio opened the door, his bright smile fell as he looked around before something tugged on his pant leg

when you heard the sniffling of a child, you immediately jumped off the couch, followed closely by nejire, who cut in front of you to coo at the young visitor. you stood behind your blue-haired friend, not being able to see over both her and mirio. tamaki was beginning to slowly lift himself from the couch to walk over to you, quickly realizing that none of his friends were around him anymore

“u-uncle miri! w-w-where’s m-mommy?”, every jaw in the dorm dropped and no one moved a muscle, besides your happy blonde friend

mirio awkwardly knelt down to look at the young boy, “uncle miri? have we met before? im sorry if i forgot; im not the best at remembering things!”

despite his laughter, you could tell that mirio was just as confused as everyone else. tamaki had taken his spot behind your back, resting his forehead on your shoulder to distract himself from how loud the child was crying. mirio placed a hand on the boy’s back and led him into the room while you, nejire and tamaki backed up to let them inside, still hidden behind the periwinkle of her hair

you could tell that the boy was overwhelmed but before you could say anything, he had closed his eyes and darted for the wall, burying his face into the hard surface, whispering something to himself. tamaki’s eyes widened at the familiar sight of indigo hair tucked into the corner of the room and you did the same. mirio took a step forward to comfort him, as he usually did with tamaki himself, but you beat him to the punch

resting a hand on the little boy’s back, you began to stroke his hair, “hey, i know it’s kinda scary being in here with so many older, taller strangers, but you don’t have to worry. we’re heroes in training; we’ll help you in any way you need!”

the boy tensed under your hands and for a second, you panicked, afraid you might have made the whole thing worse. but, before you could move, he had turned around and buried his head in your stomach, gripping onto your shirt so tightly you thought he might rip it. you gasped, connecting your gaze with tamaki, who looked just as shocked as you did

“mommy! i-im so sorry! i didn’t mean to touch i-it! im so sorry!”, he was sobbing now and you could feel his tears stain your shirt

“m-mommy?”, tamaki mumbled, slowly approaching the two of you, setting a shaky hand on your shoulder

you shrugged at him and lowered yourself down to the boy’s height, doing your best to lift his face from your abdomen to get a good look at him. he was a near mirror image of your boyfriend. with his indigo hair and facial structure, you were convinced the two of them could be twins in another life. meanwhile, tamaki was marveling at the child’s eyes, the same ones he loved to admire every day when you looked at him

“amajiki! y/n! you two never told me you had an adorable baby!”, nejire bounded over to the three of you, taking the boy into her arms, squeezing him close to her cheek and you resisted the urge to laugh at the shocked face he pulled

“w-we do not. i-i-i-”, tamaki’s words were stuck in his throat again and you quickly pulled his head into your shoulder, letting him breathe in the scent of your shampoo to calm down

“im gonna go get mr.aizawa. but for now, i think you two better look after him, doesn’t look like he’s gonna leave y/n’s side for a long time.”, mirio pulled nejire out of the dorm, despite her pouting and whining about how she wanted to take care of the cute baby too

within a second of being let go, the boy was attached to your leg, burying his face in it. suddenly, you were very aware of the two amajiki’s resting on your body. the rest of the class had gone back to the film, seeming unfazed by the recent occurrence

gently, you lifted tamaki’s head from your shoulder and pet the boy’s head, “what’s your name, honey?”

“a-a-akihito. akihito ama-jiki.”

                                                          ---

after mr.aziawa had informed you that it was a side effect of a quirk, you were somewhat relieved. this meant that akihito would probably be back to his own time period in a few days, but, you couldn’t help feel a little disappointed. akihito was attached to your hip, not even able to go into a different room without you by his side

tamaki understood completely. the little boy had given him a hug as well when he recognized him as his father, apologizing to him as well, before immediately falling back into his mother’s arms. apparently, his son thought the same thing about you as he did. you were a safe space to him, just as you were to tamaki

but, whenever he saw his son begin to panic, he felt guilty. he was the reason why his son was so easily overwhelmed and frightened. why couldn’t he have been just like you? you were brave, passionate, and outgoing, almost shining as brightly as mirio in his mind. however, his son, just like him, was cursed to live out his days as the moon

the three of you were currently in your dorm room, all of you silently eating takoyaki that you had ordered earlier. akihito suddenly gasped, causing both heads to turn to him with concern. tamaki felt tears reach his eyes as the boy held up his hand, each finger having a small tentacle appearing out of them. you grinned. this was exactly what tamaki needed to see

the rest of the night was filled with akihito cheering at how cool his quirk was and his eyes shining at the sight of his father perfectly using his to perform all sorts of tasks. tamaki was beginning to feel better about their similarities and knew that, like himself, his son also had a sun to watch out for him. this sun, however, took the form of his mother

you went to bed that night with akihito attached to you like a leech and you laughed at the pout at your boyfriend’s face, “aww, tama, did he take your spot?”

tamaki’s face went bright red at your teasing and he quickly glanced away from you, “n-no! i, i was just thinking about h-how sad it’ll be when h-he goes back.”

you smiled and sat up, careful not to disturb akihito as you rested your head against your boyfriend’s chest, feeling his heartbeat speed up, “yeah, but just think how happy the future us’s are gonna be!”

future. that word knocked the air out of tamaki’s chest. the two of you were married. he was a pro-hero and you were currently pregnant with your second child. you two were perfect in the future. did he really deserve that? would you have been happier with someone else? someone who wasn’t as withdrawn as he was

his question was answered when you hid your face in his stomach, resting on your side while he laid on his back, akihito still on top of you. tamaki didn’t need to think about all of that anymore. because, if he kept going like this, then everything would be just fine. he turned off his bedside lamp, and pulled the blanket over the three of you, resting his hand on his son’s back, placing a gentle kiss to the top of your head

akihito was gone the next morning and were sure you’d never felt worse, but, tamaki smiled and pulled something out from his bed. you furrowed your brows then beamed at the handwritten letter from akihito, who wrote about how much he loved you and how he would miss you so much. you gave tamaki a kiss, trying not to notice his squeal of surprise but smiling when he relaxed and kissed you back

                                                           ---

meanwhile, future you and tamaki were both panicking. tamaki was trying to console you but he was just as scared as you were. where had your precious son gone? was he in trouble? did he need the both of you to hold and comfort him? what if you never saw him again? it was too much for the both of you to handle

suddenly, there was a harsh pop and blindingly bright flash, tamaki quickly jumping to cover your eyes with his hand. you lowered your husband’s arm and shrieked at the sight of your son, standing perfectly safe in your living room

you raced forward and scooped him into your arms, nearly crying when you buried his face in your neck for a second then pulled back to rest his chubby hands on your cheeks. tamaki joined you shortly, placing a light kiss to his son’s head, then putting a matching one on yours

akihito began to ramble on about how he saw you, daddy, uncle miri and aunt nejire, discussing the food you ate, the note he gave you, and how cool his dad’s quirk was. you listened intently with a grin while tamaki glanced over to the framed piece of notebook paper above your mantle

the same note your son had given you seven years ago

[culturepopper]

TWW S4E3 // Happy Birthday, Indigo Moon *SPOILERS*

Hope you’re ready for some episode analysis. If not, keep scrollin’, because I need to get some thoughts out.

Let’s go back, shall we? Joy and Indi met in a park by accident and instantly became friends. Indi showing Joy the sleight of hand magic she could do, and Joy showing Indi that she wasn’t alone and that her magic could be so much more. Ice cream, dancing - you remember.

Two kids learning and being there for each other when they thought no one else was. Indi’s mom left her and the aunt and uncle who were charged with her care made her feel like running away was the only choice she had. We can only imagine that because we have no background on Hecate’s childhood or family life that she too was made to think that no one wanted her. Joy Hecate and Indi became each other’s chosen family. JH did what she (as a child) thought would make her friend’s dreams come true and keep her in the academy - give her magic.

In return Indi, drunk on her newly acquired magical powers went mad with testing the limits of her ability without care to how it would affect JH. When the effects ultimately turned Indi to stone, Hecate was punished for her part, and subsequently, we can assume a lifetime of compounded self-punishment, no one was there for Hecate. Well, almost no one.

*INSERT PHOTO OF HUMAN CINNAMON BUN*

Now, 30 years later, Indi is a real girl/student at Cackle’s and is still so damn mad at Hecate and still such a child that she plays pranks on her, lashes out over and over. Hecate is a grown witch, free at long last from a sentence of confinement that could be a post of it’s own.

Could Indi really not see how serious Hecate was about the Great Wiz’s visit that she was willing to transfer to and from the Antarctic and jump through hoops that WERE TOTAL SHIT?

When Indi transferred away from Hecate to go back to the park where they met, she finds the missing person flyer and immediately transfers back to the spot where Hecate is - frantically and dramatically transferring around the woods to find Indi.

This sparks something in Hecate - she thought there was no one. That Indi, like she, was completely alone. Now to find there was someone looking, she had to get to the bottom of it. They make it back to the potions lab where Ada, THE SWEETEST lil witch in all the land, is concocting a one-minute time-reversal potion with ginger Mildred to try and keep Indi’s body in its child form.

Hecate bounces.

She bounces with intention tho. When she learns everything she can from what I can only assume is Google, she knows what she has to do - well, what she thinks is the right thing.

And here’s where my body betrayed me - Hecate transfers back to the lab, Ada all but squeals with relief that she’s back (when did she stop saying Miss Hardbroom in front of students by the way?) and Hecate confidently struts to another table with a cauldron, asks Maud for the necessary base herbs, then PERFECTLY and EXPERTLY creates a potion that will send Indi to the exact place and moment in time when Indi’s mother goes to her secret hideout in the park to find her daughter.

Like, when did this show go from an after school show to a dramedy for 30+ viewers?

Ada stands mouth agape in shock that Hecate blasted Indi elsewhere in front of her friends. Hecate then turns around, grabs her iPad and gives a measured presentation about all she learned about Indi’s family and sent her to have the childhood she should have had all along.

Hecate bringing Indi to Cackles as a child launched a missing person’s search which brought Indi’s mother back to search for her.

Hecate had been looking for a way to give Indi the security of knowing someone cared (in the only ways she knew how).

The way she chose to show that was sending her back with no memory of Cackles. No memory of her.

She was her teacher and the Deputy Head, so it’s always been a delicate balance, but when Ada walked into the lab later with the scroll from the Great Wiz I could hear my heart brake.

You know Hecate and Ada talked all about this. I can almost hear Ada saying to Hecate while holding her close, “We’ll get through this together, my love. If you want to adopt Indigo, I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

And HERE is when I wished ginger Mildred would fuck right off literally go anywhere but where Hecate and Ada were.

ADA WAS GOING TO WALK OVER TO HECATE AND GIVE HER A COMFORTING HUG BECAUSE THEY’RE CANONICALLY MARRIED AND WE WERE ROBBED.

One of the moments that I’ll forever add to the “Ada Cackle loves her wife” file in my brain is when Ada leaves the lab *wink, wink* and Felicity walks in saying there’s a new student and her mom! Can’t find Miss Cackle! Help! and Hecate’s like “She just left! What do you mean?! Harumph, nevermind.” and then goes to the office and Ada struts in because Hecate fell for the sweetest trick.

INDI GREW UP AND SHE BROUGHT HER DAUGHTER TO CACKLES BECAUSE SHE GREW UP KNOWING MAGIC WAS REAL! And I’ll tell you if there are no BAFTAs for Raquel after this season I’ll boycott.

Tears. Real big tears.

Sending ginger Mildred (her secret fave and Ada’s obvious fave) with Indi’s daughter to get settled, Indi wondering aloud why Hecate and the school seemed so familiar...

“Happy birthday, Indigo Moon”

This is the word vomit version of E3 because there was so much in that episode... haven’t even begun to dig into Dimity’s ex who now runs sports/PE/games! She seems cool. Can’t wait to see that unfold.

This season is already really good. I can only imagine what they have in store b/c this already felt like there were some season finale vibes.

I’m buckling in. Happy to have these ladies back. Love you, Hackle fandom.

[eterneli]

ACT 2 - [EVENTIDE]

when he woke, there was an odd warmth lingering in that narrow space between his lungs and diaphragm, and a glimpse of the sun kissing his lashes. the air was, however, algid. a little too hard to breathe, a little too much like a thousand shards of ice lacerating his nostrils.

above he could make out the darkening skies, filled with lavender and indigo clouds, covering up the last stars of the night. a swirl of apricot and dead azure transfigured the horizon as a bright star 149 million kilometers away began rustling out of the confinements of its crib, mere fingertips peeking by the horizon, leaving behind a sliver of charcoal for the moon to lay on. the remaining phosphorescence from the gradually lighting sky danced along reflection of a calm lake to his left.

by the edge of said lake, dipping toes into the water, was désirée.

meanwhile baekhyun struggled to rise from the comforting bed of nature, where frosted grass tickled the back of his neck and pierced through the fabric of his clothing. he managed, after a few moments of recovery from disorientation. and as he walked towards here curious eyes wanders. left, right, up, down.

it looked like a crib built between two tall mountains, hiding secrets away, a large corridor leading to an endless horizon -- the edge of the earth, perhaps. whatever it was, it felt almost ethereal, too exquisite to be real.

something had to give. the lack of a heartbeat was what did it for him.

“where are we?” he finally spoke.

for a good thirty seconds she did not speak, serenely humming a random tune as slender toes danced upon the surface of the water. he waited.

”somewhere. nowhere. everywhere.”

brows furrowed and his jaw clenched.

yet another vague response, yet another dead end. why did he take her hand again?

just as lips parted to protest a giggle consumed the echo-prominent valley. his head snapped to the right to find a field of kaleidoscopic daffodils and a small figure running through it, a puff of chestnut locks bouncing atop its head with each hop and small hands caressing the surface of the flower ocean with the tenuity of a bee.

“who is that?”

he asked, but the answer was already at the back of his mind.

“why don’t you see for yourself?”

she finally glanced over, jet-black locks being tucked behind her ear and a nauseating simper stretching her porcelain cheeks.

although unwillingly, he turned on his heels and marched east. the closer he got to the child, the clearer its features became. the pianist only halted when he was a few three feet away, mostly because the child stopped running and turned around to face him.

the little boy’s cheeks were imperceptibly round, the kind of round that comes with the age, rosy lips formed a curious pout, the fair complex contrasting with the dark material of his clothing as long lashed fluttered with each blink, tiny palms clenching the hem of his shirt while a perfectly sculptured nose scrunched up over the pollen swirling in the air.

in that moment, time stood still and so did his breath.

unknowingly, he reached forward. for what? he was unsure.

but that was futile, and he knew it. he knew it as soon as cold fingertips met the soft and warm skin and the boy busted into a trillion speckles of light, eaten away by the wind as she materialized in the boy’s place.

”what...” he wanted to shout, or maybe collapse when his legs threatened to give in. only a whisper made it out, choked, cracked as lips curved into a disheartened smile. “is this a joke?”

she chuckled, all too calmly as bare feet traveled along the fresh green down below, pacing around through dainty flowers as these parted to make way, as if she was majesty.

“it is not.”

infuriating. she was utterly infuriating.

“then what?! what is this place? what are these mind games?” he inquired yet again.

and yet again she dodged, tone unwavering, unlike his.

”you wanted help, did you not? to go back. and i can help you bring that part of yourself back.”

he breathed because, really, that was all he could do. in and out. maybe it would help suppressing the urge of ripping her heart out (did she even have one?).

“i’m certain that you are already aware of how everything has a price in this world of ours. this is no different, particularly because it doesn’t please the gods. defying nature is a dangerous thing, baekhyun.”

tell me something i don’t know.

“i know.”

she beamed, slender fingers coiling around the middle part of a flower’s stem before breaking it in half and snuggling it into her locks, at her temple’s height.

”my ways are unconventional. it has a one hundred percent success rate though.”

“what even are you? and what is in it for you?”

silence filled the dormant valley as she settled by the edge of the field. each breath she took was one borrowed from his lungs.

”i am something, yet nothing. i am darkness but also light. i am someone offering the one thing you desire the most and that is all you need to know.” vague, but that he already expected. “all i ask for in return is a favor, one that i shall collect when the time is right. you are not allowed to refuse it when i come nor question whatever i ask of you.”

”sounds ominous and much like selling my soul away.” he retorted.

”at least you would have a soul to sell.” (she wasn’t wrong.)

”how would we go about it?”

she looked aggravatingly triumphant.

”you would be put through trials, however many it took. we would seal a formal pact, bound by words and blood. you actually already forged the papers when you took my hand, only your signature is missing.”

talk about selling your soul to the devil.

”what kind of trials?”

her head tilted and, under that light, she almost looked innocent. except there was nothing innocent nor holy about this woman.

”it depends on your nature, your desires, your past and your vision for the future. it takes different shapes for different people.”

“what’s the catch?” he almost sounded monotonous and she must’ve not expected it because her brows raised for a brief second.

”what makes you think there is one?”

”there always is.”

“you are clever.” her palms clasped together. “it isn’t much of a catch, but there is something. if the trials take too long you risk crossing the line and getting lost in your own mind, beyond saving. but as i said, one hundred percent rate of success so far.”

he didn’t question if it would physically hurt because the thought of being stuck in his own mind sounded a little more terrifying than any external injury. it should be fine though...right?

”and the consequences? no one comes back from the dead unsullied.” that much he gathered on his search.

”it varies. as i mentioned, it is a process particular to each person. it’s a leap of faith you would have to take.”

”how can you guarantee any of this? how can i trust that you will keep your word and help?”

she clicked her tongue and he pondered if she was finally getting impatient.

”the pact. it is not a one-way transaction. it is me, devoting a fragment of my existence, while you promise me something in return. if the pact is not honored, by either party, death is certain.”

”i thought you were immortal. actually immortal.”

”you are brilliant, baekhyun. brilliant enough to know there is no such things. the gods wouldn’t be pleased with a creature greater than them now, would they?”

it wasn’t a lie. nature has its balance and would punish any and all who got in its way.

”what other oddities should i be made aware of?”

by then he had made it back to the lake, as did she, standing a few feet apart.

“you will age the retained years. seven, in your case, as you are lucky enough to be a young vampire. and you will carry a mark on your body until i come to collect the debt, as will i. it manifests in the shape of a tattoo, more discreet to the human eye.” her demonstration was discreet and mute when raising the sleeve that had been cloaking her arm up until then, exposing a myriad of ink art etched into her skin, familiar and foreign pieces, a sight he caught by the corner of hazel hues before she could roll the silky material down again.

”any further questions?”

there was one the vampire had been mulling over ever since she brought it up. a part of him wished to voice it immediately, but apprehension over a possible answer lead to hesitation, which lead to a longer pause than originally intended. she didn’t seem to mind though, judging by the way she had been drawn back to the water, feet barely dipped fully into it. (it seemed cold, but so was she.)

“am i allowed to make a single request in this pact?”

he wouldn’t call it discontent, exactly, the way her demeanor shifted upon his inquiry. it was more of discomfort, as if he was pushing her out of a comfort zone, or maybe past the limit.

”speak and we shall see.” her tone wavered then and there. it was stern, different from the dull one she had been using ‘till then.

”i do not wish to be asked to kill any of my loved ones.”

perhaps he should be offended, enraged even, because she laughed. boisterous and short, but she still did.

the edges of her lips had curved into an impish simper, features contorting into a somewhat mocking expression. ”ah, yes. you innocent children seem to think you are the center of the universe. do not worry, baekhyun, for i am not here to disrupt your insignificant life. any favor i ask of you will be of my interest, not yours.”

he didn’t respond, didn’t really know how to. (she seemed to always render him speechless at some point. it was irritating.)

so she filled the space and he almost thanked her.

”anything else?”

”no.”

”are you ready then?”

”i am.”

those penetrating chocolate orbs seemed bottomless as she approached him, closed the distance step by step. she offered him a smile, candied this time around, as the world around them seemed to begin to deteriorate, falling into a pit of ventablack below their feet. they were left in complete darkness, except he could still see her clearly, as if a particular light illuminated them.

she held a hand out, pale and dainty, just as she did before.

he glanced over at it and then at his own.

“will you trust me?” she giggled. it made him uneasy.

he wanted to say no and run. run far away.

but he didn’t.

he took it.

and this time her touch wasn’t warm.

it was cold. the type of cold that burns.

[marvellouslymadmim]

Also.

A sidebar discussion this morning has made me realize that we also need to put this idea out there: it’s really important to understand that Hecate isn’t this hapless thing constantly tossed about by life (I still hate that she’s treated as a glorified plot device by this writing staff, but that’s actually another post). She has, within the realm of the show, had nearly 50 years of life to grow and develop and continue. 

Hecate has had 30 years to process the original trauma. Which was “I was a child who made an awful mistake.” She’s been surrounded by people like Gwen and Ada and Dimity for years now, can we honestly assume that they wouldn’t have supported her and tried to move her towards healing?

So let’s say that Hecate did learn to forgive herself, on some level. Accepted and made peace with things, while still remembering Indigo fondly (sorry, that statue had not been left completely alone for 30 years--someone was doing some form of maintenance, over time). Has learned to use it as motivation to guide the next generation away from similar mistakes.

And then Julie Hubble comes along. Reminds Hecate just how dangerous “non-magical” people are, when given magic. Brings up painful memories.

And then Indigo herself comes back. Hecate has just had a refresher in how dangerous Indigo was. And now she’s roaring back to life.

Part of Hecate’s healing, I think, was built upon the belief that Hecate did the right thing by keeping Indigo in stone--because otherwise she was a danger to everyone else in the witching world.

Also let’s be real here: you didn’t need Mildred’s great-whatever granny to find a transformation spell. Hecate Hardbroom is extremely determined, and if she had wanted to transform Indigo back, she would have found a way (and don’t @ me with that Witches Code shit because this bitch has A STAFF, she don’t give a flying fuck about breaking the rules, not really, that’s part of her persona to steer the girls to make better choices than she did). Which means that at some point, Hecate chose not to.

So Hecate, for a certain number of years, has made a conscious choice to let Indigo remain in stone. She has told herself that this was the only way, the best way, that she was in some way making up for a dangerous decision that put her entire society at risk. She has made peace with that, as part of her penance. It’s obvious from her initial reaction when Indigo returns that she genuinely believes the girl to be an absolute danger to everyone and everything around them. 

But Indigo--with Mildred’s help--is proving her wrong.

And what we see now isn’t “I was a child who made an awful mistake” but the dawning realization of “I am an adult who made a decision that robbed another child of freedom for years...all based on a belief that has been proven untrue”. 

Gods. What a gut punch.

So what we see after Indigo’s return isn’t necessarily just old stuff coming to the surface after 30 years of repression. It’s simply a regression in the healing journey because a foundational piece fell through. It’s Hecate realizing that she made a secondary decision that was made with good intent and yet was still “wrong”. It’s readjusting to new information.

And then, rather than admit that her previous assumptions about Indigo’s nature with added magic, Hecate digs her heels in and looks for ways to get rid of Indigo--to get rid of the constant reminder that she made a mistake. But the mistake isn’t giving her magic: it’s believing that she couldn’t be taught to be a better, safer, more socially-conscious witch in the first place. It’s realizing that she didn’t trust her own deep childhood friend, that she unjustly confined Indigo as well.

“How can I demand the best behavior from the girls when I myself have behaved unforgivably?”

This is the question Hecate asks Gwen after Indigo has left. Not after Indigo has returned. Which indicates Hecate’s feeling that she can no longer perform her duties at Cackle’s isn’t based in her childhood mistake, but rather her adult mistakes of first keeping Indigo in stone and then refusing to help her grow into a good witch when she does return. She set an awful example by making a mistake and refusing to do the hard work necessary to truly fix it. She also failed as an educator in allowing herself to stunt a student’s progress by letting fear and preconception take the lead in her approach. And she has a point--how can she continue teaching if she can’t remain open minded and optimistic about her students?

Hecate’s reminder to Indigo that “I am your teacher now” is a reaffirmation that Hecate realizes her role as a mentor and even caregiver, and also realizes how she’s failed in those roles due to her own fears and her inability to accept responsibility for her own actions. And yes, even a dash of “I can’t admit this mistake because so much has been built upon it.” But she’s letting it all come tumbling down because even though it’s the hard thing to do, it’s the right thing to do. She’s recommitting herself to truly being a teacher. 

It’s also important to note that Hecate tells Ada, “I believe it is time I stopped blaming Indigo and started trying to make amends.” Which implies that Hecate knows she’s contributed to this situation as well. She’s taking agency in this. She’s owning her actions. She’s dismissing the passiveness of blaming others and taking Gwen’s advice in truly making amends--I teach my kiddos all the time, it’s not about saying you’re sorry, it’s about showing it with actions, too. And no better apology exists than changed behavior.

And when Ada points out that Hecate had always feared Indigo’s powers “would make her malevolent”, it’s Hecate who adds, “But I thought those fears were unfounded.” Which means Hecate is admitting that at this point, she had already realized that she had made a mistake in judging Indigo’s potential, and that she’d been acting upon baseless fears. Holy hollyhocks, she’s owning past actions all over the place, y’all.

So I swear upon all that is good and holy, if we don’t see at least a slightly softer Miss Hardbroom next season, I will burn shit to the ground. This entire cast didn’t go through an emotional whirlwind of a season just to have it reset back to nothing. (I’m not holding my breath though)

[vanaera]

Your Side of the Bed

Synopsis | Hoseok will bask in the crumpled sheets of your bed until you learn to erase your past’s name on the duvet and replace it with his. It’s been long since the sheets were changed. He’s got a better one, a much warmer one and he hopes you could see the permanence laced in its every thread.

Genre | slight angst, fluff

Wordcount | 1,749

Play Your Side of the Bed by Loote

               Have you ever felt happy in something that you’re not supposed to want?

               The eight o’ clock daylight seeps through your blinds, stirring Hoseok from his sleep with an answer on the tip of his tongue. The question has long loomed over his head for some time now, the answer clear to him everytime he has to assure himself of his stand in your life. But today was too early and what he can only do is look at you - hair a mess, bare face, tired body engulfed in the sheets by his side. Hoseok smiles and tucks the few stray strands of your hair behind your ear. The steady rise and fall of your chest makes him reminisce the steady pounding of last night’s rain.

               The clouds weren’t gray that evening; a darkish cerulean even, yet the rain was heavy, dropping on the pavement like thunderous claps, hitting the hood of his car in a clangorous downpour. But to him, it was ironically mellifluous – to find beauty and calm in tragedy and noise. It shouldn’t even be therapeutic to him. He liked it in a kind of a pathological extent. And the same goes for you. He turns his head to look at you picking at the bits of the worn rubber on the handle by your side. He refuses to have another image of you leaving so he speaks up, “Have you ever liked something that is quite mismatched?”

               The pale peach of your lips curve a little. Your wine red lipstick he knew you always liked has long served its purpose. The hour ago was intimate, having you straddled on his lap to “just kiss,” peppering his jaw in butterfly kisses and breathy wonders of “I really like the way your lips feel on mine.” Your lips are satin on his heated skin and wasted no time reciprocating the intensity you paced, devouring your mewls and moans with the plush of his chapped lips. But what he liked most was the aftermath, the scene after the onslaught of his affection on you – tousled hair, smeared lipstick, and trying to catch the breath you lost because of him. Toning down your aggressiveness, balancing out your edges with his softer ones, he thinks you’re pretty in peach. Well, you’re pretty everyday. It’s just the way you looked now that only he is privileged to see, was stupefyingly beautiful.

               Your voice makes him divert his eyes from the plush of your lips toward your eyes. You let out an amused laugh, “Stop staring at me,” and Hoseok giggles. Grinning wide, you answer his question, “I don’t know, maybe some of your parts.”

               "Why just parts of me?“ He chuckles, quickly drowning the bitterness that unexpectedly dropped in the pit of his stomach.

               You look at the gray ceiling of his car, pondering on thoughts warring in your head. You always tend to think too much and Hoseok knows this ever since he’s been by your side in high school. Until now when you’re living the rest of your prime years as adult-like the both of you could be. He’s still wishing you could let some of them bother his mind too, so you won’t need to always endure the mess your thoughts create. Someday, if you’d let him, he’d always gladly do so. 

He watches you clear your throat, body angling to your side to completely fill his view of you. You lean, body facing towards him just in time he did the same. “You make me…feel happy. Sometimes,” you quickly add, “Especially when I need to. Yeah, you do that to me.“

               Legs crossed on the leather of the passenger seat, your fingers twiddling the frayed ends of your plum-dyed hair. He’s only a few inches away from you, fingers aching to tuck those strands behind your ear. But he’s not in that place…yet. He keeps his hand on the wheel and focusses on the monotonous symphony of the wipers for his beaten-up car and beaten-up heart.

It’s only hopeless because he knows there are weaknesses that will weigh down on your back until you’re on your knees. He just chose the wrong time to give in. “Why sometimes?”

               Especially when you are his weakness.

               "Hmm?“

               Hands leaving the wheel, he leans on the side of his locked door, fully facing you. It’s no use to refuse when temptation and desire has always been in his reach. "I said, why sometimes? Don’t I make you happy always?”

               You only look at his imploring eyes, snickering before you tore them to settle on the fogged glass of the window. “I’m happy, Hoseok, I really am. It’s just-”

               "Him?"

               You pause before affirming, "…yeah."

               And someone else happened to be your weakness. Someone who left you for another woman. It was two years ago, why are you still holding on your pointless hope like a naïve child? Hoseok clenches his fist, nails digging crescents in his palms. He wishes he could also do those impressions on your mind just to wake you to your senses, but he can’t do so. He loves you and he can’t hurt you that bad. He can only say something that has been established true from the start. “You know he’s not coming back, right?”

               "I know, I just-“

               "Wait?” He faces you one more time; you’re still looking outside. “You know you’ve been doing that for a very long time.” Waiting for nothing, refusing to look at him - he meant both of these but he doubts if you could actually notice them. Your eyes had been long blinded by the scraps of his so-called love.

               “I know.”

               The prolonged silence suffocates the air conditioning inside the confines of his car. He revs up the engine and pushed his foot on the pedal. He talks about his yesterday’s dance class and you animatedly joined him with another misadventure in your office. He’s always been good in diversion.

By the time the downpour has receded into a shower, Hoseok has already pulled the vehicle in front of your apartment. You beckoned him to stay for the night, just like always, and he finds himself stumbling inside the threshold of your home.

               But last night was different, and he could assure that because he felt it too.

               You didn’t ask him to make you forget, to erase him from your mind, to make love to you. It was the first for the countless nights you invited him to fill the empty space of the bed on your side. It has always been lonely to keep a large fraction by your side empty and cold. For the years that has passed before you met him and after he left, Hoseok has been trying to tell you that your bed is not designed to just hold two lovers engaged in physical passion. For overnight tornados of desire and lust cannot warm up a frozen heart when it could easily leave wreckage and ruins that may lacerate the fragile organ.

               Hoseok admits to his faults - he’s given in too many times to your pleas, a hipocrisy in act when he’s trying to keep you away from the toxic waters but is willing to toe them until he’s knee-deep if you ask him to - an excuse to touch you, a motive for him to love you. His Achilles’ heel you truly are.

               "Can you just…lie by my side? You don’t have to do anything, I just-“

               "Need someone to fill his space?” Hoseok didn’t mean for it to sound so bitter before he could think about what he spewed.

               But it’s not what’s on your mind. “No, I just need you to be by my side.”

               Hoseok was astounded and can only nod.

               That night, he curled to your side and pulled you close to him, the warmth emanating from his chest lulling you to sleep. In the thin line of consciousness and sleep as he closed his eyes, Hoseok felt you tug his hand draped on your waist to lay them on top of yours. One, two, three - you enclosed your fingers and locked his hand with yours. Like what lovers do. Like what he usually dreamt of doing with you. And while the night is dead, Hoseok pressed a loving kiss on your hairline.

               The indigo dips and creases on your bed are now cream and white and Hoseok looks at you snuggled deep in your sheets. Loving you may hurt but it’s not enough to drive him away. You turn to your side, facing him, and still asleep. Looking at you with peace unusually painted on your un-creased brows and parted mouth, the porch of your chest vulnerable and opened wide, Hoseok decides to drape himself onto you, to embrace and inhale the scent of you with his hands wound around you like the lover who’s capable to hold his love in his arms. He can only grant his heart some peace when you’re sleeping, all his wants and needs muddled in a plethora of affections he could only lay on your doorstep:

               I want to be your friend you can hopelessly fall in love with, the one you could take willingly into your arms, into your bed, into the world you keep to your head unvisited by anyone. I need to love you and know how to touch you – how I could make you stare at your pains in one of those sleepless nights and only feel my love supersede anything that is contrary.

               And Hoseok could only wait until you decide to bask in the daylight, to go out and pick up everything you need to know about him, you, and the both of you.

               Have you ever felt happy in something that you’re not supposed to want?

               You slowly opened your eyes, meeting his.

               He doesn’t need to think twice; the answer has always been clear. Loving you is something he has always wanted and needed. He’ll always be happy when it comes to you, regardless of conditions and conventionalities - he will be happy through and through, no second thoughts, no regrets. Just you and him, him and you. You don’t have to toss and turn anymore.

               Hoseok smiles. “Good morning, Y/N.”

               You return his smile, your hand in his hold squeezing his. “Good morning, Hoseok.”

               He would wait.

What are you doing?

Re-arranging the furniture.

Why so sudden?

It’s been a while since I gave my home a make-over.

View more songs in my masterlist

A/N | Hello hons! I experimented a new writing style for this and hmm, I’m not sure whether to be happy with it or not (everything feels too new!) Anyway, I liked the new experience! Hope you liked reading this!

BTW!!! I have 3 consecutive exams coming up this week (uni is killing me) so I may not be able to post your requests soon but be assured I’m working on them! (I’m actually already editing some of them as my breather in-between studying) I just don’t want to rush them because I want to give you guys a good content! :D So for the mean time, enjoy my following posts that I queued for these weeks that I will be freaking busy studying and writing papers :’D

All Rights Reserved © Vanaera. No reposts, modifications, and translations of content is allowed without direct permission.

[yoongihime]

Prologue: Stigma

Introducing Vampire!Taehyung Length: 1.7K ...dear god... Warnings: Blood Ment //Death Ment Insp: Interview with the Vampire & THIS SONG  (a/n) and summary: A beginning / background of sorts for a new vamp!tae AU which will be a sister fic to Indigo.. Surprise surprise it’s gonna be called Scarlet. soo this is a ...preview..??

Taehyung woke with a strange hunger, a poignant thirst licks up from the base of this throat all the way to the back of his mouth, grinding the skin raw. It’s a sensation similar to that of dragging sandpaper deliberately across a dry surface, a slow burn that grows more maddening with each second that passes, causing his eyes to water and his nails to rake down the column of his throat, drawing blood—not the one he wants. The origin of the pain distracts him from the eerie silence, not a sound, not even a heartbeat—that’s right—he is dead. Then where am I? his thoughts echo in the all engulfing darkness of the room. This discovery is enough to momentarily draw his attention from the incessant pain to his appearance as he notes his blood soaked dress shirt, formerly white now stained an unsightly maroon, matted uncomfortably to his skin. His pants are torn at the edges and his feet bare, but despite the distressed state of his clothing, he notes how his skin shines in the pale moonlight, so pale that his veins are visible— light purple against the parchment-like surface — smooth and devoid of imperfections. His mind is blank, desultory; his human memories and emotions like burnt ashes and it leaves him with hollow melancholy.

Who is he?

Where is he?

“Are you awake, Taehyung?” a voice whispers, it’s enticing— honey laced with arsenic—Taehyung feels uneasy as he turns to meet the source.

She’s a beautiful nightmare, with her long silvery locks draping across her form in a veil, white lace framing her slender neck and scarlet blood staining everything else. Fangs extended, she glides towards Taehyung, his eyes widens, childlike bewilderment increasing with each whisper of her footsteps against the wood floor until she comes to a stop one hair-raising breath away.

“Who are you?” he croaks, his voice rough and gravelly with confusion and a rising panic that comes with the presence of this stranger.

“I am your maker, Taehyung.” she whispers, her lips descending on his jawline with the lightest of touches, her fangs grazing his skin which causes shivers to erupts down Taehyung’s spine akin to that of sparks of electricity.

“What is a maker?” he asks, he feels that he’s only a source of annoyance to her, but he cannot help his naive ignorance.

“Look, my child,” she whispers, “look around at the twilight world and accept your new life.”

Taehyung studies the strangely familiar setting with caution, he doesn’t know why this place is comforting to him, but there is a deep-rooted sense of longing which he can’t place as his eyes skim the ornate fireplace behind him. Looking up, his eyes wander towards the painting above the hearth, completely freezing when he is met with a portrait of himself. It’s him smiling with mirth, along with a man and a woman seated in front, as well as a toddler clinging to his back. They look like a happy family. Taehyung wonders, some part of him in disbelief that the familiar stranger could be him. Continuing his quest, he searches the room once again and only notes the lavish furniture and mahogany staircase before he comes to a complete circle—face to face with his maker. This time however, he notes the crumpled bodies surrounding her, some more mangled than the rest, their life’s blood spattered on the silk of the sofa and Taehyung is swamped with mixture of nausea and desire, but he remains unmoving under her piercing gaze.

“W-who are those people?” he whispers, easing away from her touch and towards the strewn bodies, for some reason his heart aches, deep gashes slashed into the delicate organ.

“They’re your old life. One you should have abandoned long ago.”

Her fangs graze against his neck, causing electric shivers to run down his spine as she offers him her wrist and it’s cascade of scarlet.

“Drink, my child.” she whispers, but it is laced with underlying command and Taehyung cannot help but bring the gaping cut to his mouth, gentle at first, as if he was kissing the skin before the taste takes over his senses.

Ah, so this is what he wanted.

It’s liquid ecstasy. The most addictive narcotic and Taehyung is quickly falling down into the depths of addiction. He continues to drink in earnest, drowning so deep in the sensation he fills the heavy quiet of the room with his little suckles. His grip remains loose in wonderment until the memories finally hit him.

“Father, you must leave.” Taehyung grits out between his clenched jaw, his eyes closing before the tears can escape. The gentleman remains impassive, his wife—Taehyung’s mother— squeezes his shoulder, hoping to physically reassure her husband but the worry is rooted deep into her own subconscious as well.

“She doesn’t care to take your lives. If you leave this house you will be spared.”

“Taehyung we can’t leave you like some sort of sacrifice—“

“So what of my brother then Father? Will you have him die in vain in the hands of that woman as well?”

As if conscious of their conversation, the young boy stirs in his sleep from the armrest.

“Taeho.”

Taehyung strides over to the sleepy toddler, hoisting up his sleep laden form and pushing him towards his mother.

“Please father, we haven’t much time.” His eyes plead their case, the tears willing themselves to not spill over until he notices the slight nod from the elderly man. A bittersweet smile blossoms and Taehyung hugs his family tight, his sobs breaking free from their confines now.

The sound of shattering glass ruts his goodbyes tight into in his throat, the heavy words stuck from the shock.

“Knock Knock.” silvery hair billows from the opening, “You should know to not keep a lady waiting.” her voice rings from the gaping hole in the plaster, the formerly pristine window now jagged and chasmal.

“So for that.. I will have to punish you.”

Fragments of the memories seem to blur after that recollection. Maybe because it was too horrible even for his new mind to recollect. Salty tears run down his cheeks, down to his blood stained chin. Echoes of his mother’s screams still ring fresh in his subconscious, tearing him apart from the inside out, so this is what it means to be in a living hell.

Worst of all he can see the fear in his brother’s eyes engraved into the back of his lids, his feeble four-year-old form cringing back towards the dresser until she tore into his throat, life blood flowing freely until there was no more. Tremors work their way through his entire body, his hands now unsteady, rising a questioning look from his maker. Taehyung doesn’t let her utter a single word. No, not another lie that he does not need to be fed. He wants none of it as a scream rips it’s way from his lungs and his hands finds the column of her throat.

Her wide eyes are the only signs of her dismay as she caresses the hand at her threat tenderly, as if relishing in his loss of control. Her rage giving her sick pleasure and delight. 

“Go on, kill me.” She whispers, her voice taunt but her facade stays neatly in place.

“I refuse to give you such satisfactions.” Taehyung grits out, his tears dripping in crystallize droplets onto her skin, “Death will only give you the peace you don’t deserve.”

He straightens, jerking his hand away from her neck and Taehyung turns, uttering the goodbye he wasn’t able to before,

“Goodbye, mother.”

.

.

.

Snap! The branch under his feet startles Taehyung as he attempts to navigate his way through this estate. He’s not too sure himself how he ended up in this mansion, but the garden and its flowers only served to remind him of his mother, his real one, which only increases his desperation to be rid of such nagging memories and emotions. He’s willed himself to avoid such burdens for twenty years now, surely does not need such a feeble habit as emotion. 

“It’s not everyday I find a lost pup in my garden.” a voice calls out and that causes Taehyung to whip around, bearing his fangs, the scarlet tint coloring his eyes on instinct.

“Woah, so it bites.” the sentence tapers off into a chuckle and Taehyung locates the source of the voice, his form laying languidly on the wooden bench. I must be going crazy, Taehyung thinks as he notes the appearance of the silver haired man in front of him, his demeanor graceful despite his sprawled out position. Is it strange to think that he’s beautiful? Taehyung shakes his head vigorously to clear such intrusive thoughts, but even on closer observation Taehyung still cannot deny his otherworldly charisma. He’s moonlight. His pale skin almost translucent against the glow of a lamp, the silverly hair only adding to his ethereal appearance as his leisurely sips from his long stemmed glass.

“What is your name?” he prompts, the question almost dismissive but Taehyung cannot help but answer as if ordered,

“Taehyung.”

Taehyung’s own response shocked him to the core, the involuntary action igniting a strange familiarity within him—

“You’re a Pureblood.”

The silver haired vampire cocks his head. It’s been decades since someone spoke to him in such a way, without formalities, without bounds. It makes him smile. 

“Looks like I am. Also looks like you’re lost.”

“I didn’t ask for your help.” Taehyung spat, the programed bitterness causing vile to raise in his throat and explode in his voice.

“Wasn’t going to offer it.” the Pureblood shrugs, nonchalant, not at all perturbed.

“I was going to offer something else though,” he begins, propping his form up and Taehyung does indeed feel like a kid under his scrutiny, “why don’t you stay?”

“I don't even know you.” Taehyung whispers, his declination ready on this tongue but his conscience already compelled by the older vampire in front of him.

“Yoongi. Min Yoongi.” he answers, offering Taehyung his hand. A little voice nags at his consciousness, the grime on his hands suddenly noticeable compared to the pristine milkiness of Yoongi’s palm.

“Trust me kid,” Yoongi signs, noting the way Taehyung seems to cringe back from his offer, “I’ve had my fair share of bloodbaths with these hands. No one is pure in this world; we’re just all getting by. Now will you let me help you?”

It’s as if Yoongi was pulling him into sunlight, not the literal one where he would die in, but rather a place of warmth. Delight dances in the elder’s eyes and for a second Taehyung catches a glimpse of indigo in those orbs. What Taehyung doesn’t know that he’s also being pulled towards another path, another future, a future that will be filled with you.