#leaving him? he’s so deathly scared of rejection and the idea that he’s doing the wrong thing so he acts out like it’s an internal battle

[kendallroygf]

convinced only maybe 5 of you understand kendall btw

[gay-dorito-dust]

hey if you’re still taking billy bateson requests could you do one where him and reader are already dating but then he meets his mom and shows up at readers window crying and it’s just lots of hurt/comfort

Honestly didn’t know how to end this fic.

You were alredy experiencing a sleepless night when you heard the tapping of knuckles on glass, indicating the desire to be acknowledged and let inside. You probably should’ve exercised caution beforehand but as you tore open your curtains with haste, and exposing the inner workings of your bedroom to the darkness that lurked just outside, all you could clearly focus in on was the tear streaks on Billy’s cheeks.

‘Billy?’ You breathed.

‘Yeah, it’s me…mind letting me in? My fingers are kinda going numb here.’ He replied, his voice wavering beneath the weight of his unprocessed emotions from what transpired earlier on.

‘Oh, yeah. Sorry.’ You said as you opened the window, allowing for a cold rush of air to pass through you, causing you to conscientiously rub at your arms, whilst your boyfriend manoeuvres his way inside until he was able to fully stand inside your room. Yet his stance seemed a little hunched in on itself, he nervously fiddled with his fingers, his eyes were downcast and upset. It wasn’t until that moment that you knew what you were looking at;

A lost boy having been rejected by his mother a second time.

You weren’t given the chance to openly console Billy when he came rushing into your arms, his head tucked into the crook of your neck, where you felt the wetness of his tears streak down to your shoulder, soaking the collar of your shirt but that was of no importance to you when you held the broken fragments of your boyfriend in your arms; praying that your embrace could heal him of all his ailments and make him whole once more. ‘She didn’t want me.’ Billy cried, ‘she couldn’t even bring herself to look at me…’ the more he spoke, the more your heart broke.

‘What’s so wrong with me that she can’t take me back?’ You pulled back, soul wincing when you heard his weak whines as his arms held you tightly, deathly afraid that you were going to walk out your bedroom door, never to return for him. ‘Billy, you listen to me and you listen to me good.’ You held his face in your hands, running your thumbs beneath his eyes to dry away his tears, ‘there is absolutely nothing wrong with you. If there’s anyone who’s wrong, it’s your mother for not seeing you for the smart, sweet and beautiful boy that i see you as.’

‘Then why can’t she see that?’ Billy asked, hopelessly. He didn’t think what meeting his mother would entail, he was more transfixed on the idea of having a family to belong to, that he had long forgotten that his mother was first person to betray him and cause him detrimental effects that haunt him still. ‘Because she’s a selfish woman Billy. She only prioritises herself, no matter how many she hurts in the process,’ Billy’s eyes left your face but you moved your head to keep the contact, knowing that while this may hurt for him to hear it but he needed to hear it none the less, you weren’t going to lie to him, ‘even her own son. She left you for selfish reasonings that aren’t excusable.’

‘You won’t leave me…will you?’ Billy asked suddenly, looking at you like a frighten child and clinging onto you tighter as though you were going to slip through his fingertips like sand. God he looked so broken, even more so with the fractures of his hardened facade finally revealing the boy he truly was, the boy who still aching for his mothers love beneath, a boy who felt undoubtably alone and scared, forced into a life filled with more cold hearted monsters then kind hearted humans. ‘No Billy,’ you told him softly, ‘there’s not a chance in hell there’ll ever come a day where I’d leave you. I’m staying for the long haul, baby.’ You then began prepping his face in kisses, making him chuckle for the first time that night.

‘You wanna stay the night or do you want me to call Victor and Rosa?’ You asked him when you noticed the fatigue of today weighing on his shoulders finally taking it’s toll on Billy. ‘Am I allowed to stay the night?’ He asked almost meekly as his hand grasped at your own that remained stuck to his cheek, bringing it down to his side to fiddle with your fingers before intertwining them together. ‘You’re more then welcome to stay the night Billy,’ you tell him, squeezing his hand, ‘I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want you to. I just want you to make the decision yourself.’

Billy smiled, ‘okay,’ he says, ‘it looks like I’m staying the night.’

[llendrinall]

I'm with you on how terrible we found Fantastic Beasts. Now let me ask, how would you have written/built the Fantastic Beasts storyline?

I have not watched the 3rd movie so it’s possible that they have managed to turn it all around, but to start with I would give some actual connection to the movies beyond the title and characters. Otherwise it just feels like those children books: “X goes to the park”, “X in the supermarket”, where we see the same people in different situations but they are disconnected from each other.

I probably would have gone a different route all together, but suppose Warner has already hired the actors and started building the sets so we must use at least some elements from the movies. In that case I would make a story of discovery and reflection in three parts, with narcissism being the main theme.

First movie

Newt goes to NY with his magical bag. Most of the film is the same, but we get a sense of Newt being less childish (less painfully obvious and thinly surreptitious wand waving around muggles) and a bit more selfish. However, we should like him more for it.

Newt is, to the society of the time, completely mental. Rather than going on hunts and collecting trophies, he is recuing animals! I would emphasize that the animals he keeps have been compromised and can’t be safely returned to their habitats and since conditions and wizarding zoos are deplorable, he keeps them with him. The exception is that thunder bird he has come to release.

And that’s his goal, releasing the thunder bird, which he pursues with extreme focus. He doesn’t care about anything else which is why he is so open to Jacob the Muggle. Newt could be imprisoned* and Jacob would be obliviated into a stupor, but Newt doesn’t care about personal risks so he doesn’t care about the danger he poses to others. He is selfish that way. A generous kind of selfishness, sure, but dangerous.

I’m sorry, but the President of the MACUSA is not a woman nor a POC. It must be a white man surrounded by white men, one of whom might be either Catholic or Jewish and that’s all the diversity you see. Are there POC wizards? Yes. But not in positions of power. There is a bigger emphasis on the separation of wizards and No-Maj, with waaay more surveillance and harsher punishments. Suspicion alone may be enough to break your wand in some cases.

* And that’s how I could believe that POC wizards and witches (WWs from now on because “magicals” sounds weird) aren’t intervening in muggle spaces. They must be suffering similar levels of racism. They are tolerated, maybe they have better prospects that POC muggles, but that’s it. I can’t believe none of them would show some solidarity to the Non-Maj, unless it meant being summarily executed.

(Oh, and there would be this scene in which we see law-abiding and conscientious Tina stalking the house of an African-American muggle family. Nothing is said of it, other that Tina used to work with a muggle-born partner but now she works alone. Keen-eyed viewers will notice some hoodo trinkets in Tina’s flat, and a photograph of Tina with an African American woman, and then we will know).

I don’t remember Credence’s storyline very well, but it doesn’t matter. What is important is that Graves (powerful white man Graves) develops some sort of empathy. He doesn’t want it, but it’s there in his heart now. Maybe something with Newt’s animals. Some “beast” (look at how they say beasts and not animals) should have maimed and eaten Graves, but doesn’t because Newt is there in all his animal-loving glory. Graves gets to see the monster as merely a scared and hurt animal and learns to treat others with some decency and kindness.

That would be a nice classic movie, (prejudiced man gets over himself), but we can’t end it here. I would even allow for Tina’s scene stalking the house to be cut in order to have time for the climax: the moment when Graves realizes his society and his government may not always be right and defies direct orders by helping Credence. As I said, I don’t remember what the deal with Credence was, but Graves fixes it. There will be a personal cost to his career, but losing a promotion is nothing compared to saving a life, which is what he does. No ambiguous explosion or cloud of smoke. Credence is evidently and irrevocably safe at the cost of Graves being demoted.

There is no Gellert Grindelwald whatsoever, except maybe some government secretary mentioning they like that guy from Europe.

Second movie

Set in London rather than Paris. Newt receives the visit from a lovely, lovely, gentleman who, as it turns out, doesn’t think Newt is a fool. The charming gentleman asks Newt about the dragons, specifically the ones in Gringotts and oh, oh, Newt is against it. It’s abominable and unethical. But Newt would rather not think too much about it because, what can he do? He would rather focus on helping those he can and on spreading his thoughts on animal conservation. He is publishing a journal, although he admits it doesn’t do too well. He has twelve subscribers and seven of them openly mock his papers during dinner parties.

The charming gentleman says, but what if Newt could do something about it? What would Newt be willing to do? Would he break the law?

Newt laughs. He is forbidden from leaving the country. He is no stranger to jumping, crossing, tampering or breaking the law.

Marvelous! The charming gentleman reveals that he, like Newt, is unhappy with their society. It is weak and corrupt* and someone must do something about it. They have to fix it.

So the charming gentleman introduces Newt to some other like-minded friends and together they plan a heist to get into Gringotts and release the dragons. It is time to build a society one can feel proud of!

We get the heist, which is clever and delightful. The charming gentleman is brave, smart and powerful with his magic. There is a moment when some of the co-conspirators, and even the charming gentleman himself, get inside some vaults. This is not what they had planned! Not at all. But the charming gentleman assures Newt that he has good reasons.

They get out. And here comes the Nagini moment. Meaning I really, really, really, don’t need to see an Asian woman condemned to whatever that was in the second movie. I don’t need to have beautiful Neville kill a woman who has been turned into a snake and then a Horcrux.

But, do you want an “oh no” moment? Here it comes.

Because of the heist, Gringotts revises their security measures. That poor dragon in Deathly Hallows? The one with scars who had been conditioned to fear a certain sound? Newt’s fault. And the charming gentleman doesn’t care.

We have established in the previous movie that Newt is somewhat selfish and short-sighted. He rejects his society and cares only about his animals which is very nice. Newt is well intentioned, but that is not enough. Not caring about politics is the privilege of those in the elite (and despite Newts’ eccentricities he is very much the elite). The previous movie had Graves’ awakening. The man discovering something about himself in this movie is Newt.

Newt realizes that he must be an active participant in society. Sadly, he only realizes it after he has helped Gellert Grindelwald steal a number of very important artefacts as well as some gold to fund his project to reform Europe.

The epilogue of the movie has Albus Dumbledore visiting Newt, telling him not to be too hard on himself because he, Dumbledore, also fell for Gellert lies. And if Newt wants to do something about it, Dumbledore has some ideas.

* History fans might not realize immediately, but hopefully they will catch on the fact that all of the beautiful arguments from the charming gentleman are about weakness of the state, which is a common fascist trope.

Third movie

In which characters from previous movies are brought back without having to completely destroy their personalities.

Graves is in Europe and he pays a visit to Newt to ask for his help. Graves is using his new found empathy (that he didn’t want) to investigate a series of highly suspicious murders and incidents. The victims were all Latinas so it was dismissed, but Graves thinks there is something.

Two scenes later in comes Tina, who has quitted her job in order to track the murderer of some friend’s friend. An African American child is dead, no it was not the No-Maj, it was someone else, someone who wanted to cover their tracks and leave no witnesses and Tina is going to eat their heart.

Is it possible that Graves and Tina are after the same person? Yes and no. It is two different henchmen but Dumbledore has no trouble going beyond the small picture to see the pattern. He knows Grindelwald always had an interest in powerful artefacts, not just the Deathly Hallows.

Grindelwald has stolen the Macguffin, a powerful artefact belonging to a Latin-American community. With that and the Elder Wand he will be unstoppable. Oh no!

But! Newt realizes there is something missing. The raven is not a symbol of death in all cultures. Grindelwald might not fully understand what he has taken or how to use it.

So Graves and Tina go fight Grindelwald’s organization and be awesome together, delaying Grindelwald’s big coup. Meanwhile, Newt illegally leaves the country, goes back to NY, takes Queenie and deploys her. Because Queenie is nice. She plays the vapid pretty woman, but she is above all nice and if someone can make a hurt and distrustful community open their door to strangers, it is going to be Queenie with the help of Jacob’s bread.

And, indeed! They succeed. The bruja Latina explains about the Macguffin. Grildelwald doesn’t understand what he has stolen. It is not meant to be used like that at all.

They go back to Europe quickly, Newt relays this information to Dumbledore and he steps to his duel with Grindelwald armed with the knowledge and insight that comes from showing some measure of respect to other people for once.

(And if it seems that Dumbledore’s victory rests on other people’s work, well, Dumbledore’s main trait is his ability to earn people’s trust and devotion. But I guess Newt and Queenie could have brought the bruja with them and after a nice chat with Dumbledore she agrees to share their secrets with him, so he has the opportunity to show he is different).

Rather than having a man realize something, this movie is about the consequences of not opening your eyes: Gindelwald’s fall. It would also nicely establish Dumbledore’s best manipulative traits. If we must have het couples, Tina saves Newt’s from some mook and taker a kiss. Graves goes with the pretty Lestrange, I guess, to have a long life of morality sanctioned crimes.

(A TV show. Twelve episodes. Cancelled after the first season. Graves and Lestrange are back in the States helping oppressed communities and dodging the MACUSA and whatever the equivalent of the FBI was back then).

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars CIII (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: I know last book ended horribly but I promise this one won’t be entirely sad, just a bit frustrating– Enjoy and please leave feedback! -Danny

Words: 3,888 

Series’ Masterlist

Book IV // Next Chapter

Listen to: Then -by Anne-Marie

Chapter One: A Lousy Summer.

1974

Emily wasn't going to cry where the girls would be able to hear. 

She could've used a spell to quiet her own sobs, but she just needed to be in a place where there was no need to hide. 

So she went to the common room, drowning her cries on a blanket and wondering how was she going to crawl her way out of this one. She thought it was unfair, she'd never experienced something so embarrassing prior this moment. Wasn't love supposed to be beautiful?

"Mily?"

The girl gave a start and cleaned her face hastily.

"Padfoot," She tried to sound casual. "What's wrong? Had a nightmare about cats chasing your tail?"

"Are you okay?" He walked up to her, ignoring the teasing. "I'm sure that if you were to talk to them..."

"I think it's clear enough," Emily averted her gaze. "All of us want things we can't have."

"That's not true."

"What exactly should I do after the humiliation I went through?" She sniffed. "He kissed me in front of everyone! I can't be near him and I refuse to be around Lily, I don't want to see any of them!"

"Mily, when I tell you Matt got the worse deal..." Sirius frowned. "The look on his face–"

"You don't need to remind me," Emily lamented. "Why can't I like him back?"

"You can't force things to happen," He shrugged. "If I could make all of you forget I would, but you'd find a way to do whatever you want anyway."

"This is not the time for jokes..."

"Talk to Moony then," Sirius complained. "I'm not good at comforting people..."

"I don't want to talk! Can we just... sit in silence?"

The girl curled up and got closer, he wrapped an arm around her awkwardly.

Really –Sirius thought with exasperation– What was she expecting? This was bound to happen, one of them would eventually develop a crush on her...

Well, more than one... but Sirius was going to take that secret to the grave. It was out of place, Matthew was way better than him– Hell, anyone was a better choice! But tonight it was just the two of them... and Emily had asked him to stay.

"It'll get better, right?" She asked quietly. "I'll get over my stupid crush and so will Matthew... we'll be back to normal in no time..."

"You were never normal," He joked.

"You know what I mean..."

"Yeah," He fixed his gaze on the dying fire, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "If you ask me, James doesn't know what he's missing..."

1995

It was the driest and hottest month of the year back in Private Drive, but Mel was freezing at the front door of Grimmauld Place.

Her mother led her in as she closed the door behind them, Mel hugged Grey's basket closer, thinking a ghost would walk out of the hall. Instead, Sirius walked in with a bright smile.

"You're here!"

Mel looked around dubiously.

"This is your house?"

"Mel! Don't be rude!"

"That's okay," Sirius made a face. "This place is hot rubbish. Your room's clean though. I made sure you'd be comfortable. I know it's hard to be away from home, stuck in such a... place."

"Well, at least you're here," She smiled. "I'm sure I'll get used to it."

"Hand me those," Sirius grabbed her trunk and walked ahead of them. "Let me take you to your rooms... Try to be quiet, my mother's portrait is mental. I tried to take it down but she glued it there. It's bloody torture."

"Language, Padfoot," Emily said, though she was far more interested in the house-elves on the shelves. "Love the decor..."

"Don't mention it," The man growled. "The house-elf that kept the house clean while I was young used to be here, I have no idea where he is, but I haven't found him. I can't wait to throw all those heads out."

"You think he died?"

"I'll find him eventually."

"So this will be the headquarters for the Order?" The girl asked, choosing to ignore his vague answer.

She'd read her mother's letters in secret until Emily found her snooping around, by then it was too late, so Emily didn't see the point on hiding it anymore.

"That's right," Sirius opened the first door of the second landing. "I figured, if I can't be of use out there, the least I can do is give a safe place where to have our meetings. It's secured with a Fidelious charm, Dumbledore did it last Saturday when he heard you were coming."

"Interesting..." Mel looked around. "Who used to sleep in this room?"

"Guests, that's why it's so plain. I thought you'd like it that way, my family wasn't keen on jolly decorations."

"I noticed," Mel grinned.

"You must be hungry, coming all this way from Remus' place. Why don't we go to the kitchen and have lunch? We can unpack later..."

Mel was helping her mother set the table when she heard a strange noise coming from the corner of the kitchen.

"What's in there?"

"It's where the elf used to keep his appliances... there might be rats in there, be careful."

When she opened the door something fell swiftly on her feet and she screamed, jumping on the table.

"What happened?" Emily circled the table. "Oh–! Sirius! I believe Mel found your elf..."

"Is he alive?" The girl asked in terror.

The creature looked ancient and dirty, with a sneer that she'd never seen in an elf before; usually, they were all smiles and compliments. This one started to insult them as soon as he lifted himself from the ground.

"Rats! Thieves! Traitors of the blood had come to rob my masters' treasures!"

"Kreacher," Sirius said. "Shut up."

The elf closed his mouth tightly but sent Sirius a deathly glare.

"He listens to me because I'm the last member of my family that still lives. Be of use, Kreacher, go clean my mother's room."

The elf's eyes shone with anger but he turned away and vanished.

"He always liked to throw tantrums," Sirius added, pulling Mel down from the table. "You're okay?"

"Yeah– it took me by surprise..."

"You jumped so high!" Her mother laughed.

"Laugh at your daughter, will you?" Mel scoffed. "Not like you're the adult or anything..."

"No one here is allowed to be an adult," Sirius crossed his arms. "Not unless we're holding a meeting. In which case we're adults. Today there won't be any, though."

"Don't listen to her, she's just upset about spending summer away from Harry," Emily mentioned.

"I'm not," She replied tensely.

"It's okay, I was beyond sad the first time I had to leave Matt for–"

"I don't feel that way about Harry," Mel retorted roughly.

"What?" Her mother's smile fell. "What happened?"

She bent down to pick up the things that fell when she'd jumped on the table.

"I'd rather not talk about it..."

"Am I missing something?" Sirius raised a brow.

"Last summer Mel told us she was having feelings for Harry..." Her mum began carefully, "I thought it was still a thing..."

"I'll tell you what it was. Stupid..." The lump in her throat formed at a remarkable speed. "I should've known better..."

"Did you talk to him?"

"He doesn't like me, Mum."

Sirius and Emily shared a look, the woman moved to hug her.

"We can talk about it if you want? Once you're ready..."

"Can we have lunch?" Mel asked quietly.

"Sure thing, little Em," Sirius nodded. "I'm a brilliant cook. Your mother's skills will be put to shame."

"How're you so sure?" Emily grinned.

"Because I remember your cooking."

Mel was spending some quality time with Buckbeak when Sirius walked in. It was almost midnight and her mother had gone out on a mission.

"Is it okay if I join you?"

Mel shrugged.

"I know you said you didn't want to talk about it, but maybe you'd like to talk to me now?"

The girl remained silent.

"C'mon, Mel! We'll live under the same roof for a while, let's practise our social skills!"

"My social skills are fine, thanks."

"I heard from a reliable source that you're still scared of speaking to large crowds..."

"I simply don't find it exciting," She lied.

"Well then, I'm not a thousand people, but I have a nice pair of ears that would love to listen to fifteen-year-olds' problems."

"I'm sure your godson will have plenty once he's back."

"He's been demoted to my godson?" Sirius taunted.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"All right, we won't talk about him... What about your father?"

"What about him?"

"Well, when he was about your age–"

"He kissed my mum and she turned him down?" She replied tiredly. "So what? They married anyway..."

Sirius frowned.

"They didn't know they were going to marry each other, that's what! Matt didn't look like himself for weeks! Your mother'd been rejected, that's why your dad kissed her. He thought it would help... to this day I don't know why he thought that, but alas, it worked!"

"Did you know the other?" Mel asked. "That kid mum used to like?"

"A fool," Sirius shrugged. "A nice fool, but an idiot nonetheless... your parents were lucky, Mel. They found a way to fall in love, but even if that hadn't been the case, your father would've found someone– your mother would've found someone... It's not that we're meant to find just one person and stick to it. Most times it's just finding an equal that understands you and suits your needs, and there are plenty of those."

"I don't want anyone," Mel pouted. "I hate this, and I wish there was a way I could avoid liking people. It's hideous."

Sirius laughed.

"Trust me, you'll regret it if you don't give someone a chance. Though I'll tell you this, no person in this world will ever be fully worthy of you, little Em. And even if it's true and you don't find one, your life will still be full of adventures."

Mel didn't think she was that great, but whatever had happened between Harry and she felt right, it felt natural, she'd been able to see a future with the boy. Then again, that could've been her childish and gullible self thinking that her first love was going to last forever. Maybe, if she were to try hard enough, she'd be able to see someone taking Harry's place.

"Have you ever been in love?" Then she added rather bashfully. "I mean, not that I have, but you know..."

Sirius cleared his throat.

"It was a long time ago. Long before leaving Hogwarts... It wasn't meant to be, nor my place."

They fell in comfortable silence, watching Buckbead nibble some bones.

"If you really want to help me," Mel started. "You can teach me how to avoid detention..."

"Nice try," Sirius laughed. "Emily warned me about you... My official answer is no."

"What about your off-the-record answer?" She inquired, standing up at the same time as him.

"Only the days Mily's not in the house."

Kreacher kept insisting on following her around as if she were a criminal, making sure she wasn't touching any of his old trinkets. She didn't have any interest in doing so; everything had dark magic, she'd sense it without even having to touch them.

On a normal day, she'd go to the attic to spend time with Buckbeak, sometimes Sirius would make tea and they'd sit there talking about his adventures in Hogwarts. He'd tried several times to ask her about Harry, but she would ignore him every time.

Dumbledore visited one morning to ask her to keep it all a secret, what they were doing there, meaning that if she was planning on sending letters to Harry, she wasn't allowed to talk about the Order. But Mel wasn't writing to him at all, and her letters to Hermione and Ron were always vague. Both of them were under the impression that Mel, true to her nature, was keeping an updated knowledge on Harry's whereabouts, that she didn't confirm nor denied.

Erick wrote to her a week after she'd moved to Grimmauld Place. Anne went completely unmentioned, but that was expected. He was busy looking for young supporters, things got a bit complicated when Eliot Flint got sick again and Erick had to look after him. He seemed to be having just as a dreadful summer as she was.

It wasn't that her mother, Lupin, and Sirius would leave her to rot inside this huge house, but they were adults who had their minds set on important matters, and she had nothing to do but overthink about him.

She still had feelings, but she was doing her best to bury them. Mel was hoping that once in Hogwarts she'd find a way to be okay with his existence. She didn't want to get rid of him altogether, that was impossible.

"I take that you're having a rough morning?" Sirius spoke from the doorway.

Mel gave a start, looking up from her seat at the kitchen table.

"I had a nightmare," She said drowsily.

"Same as before?" Sirius knew about her dreams, but that day she didn't want to talk about them. Today all she wanted to do was to sit in silence and drink her coffee.

"Have you had breakfast already?"

"No. I came here so Kreacher would stop nagging about me trying to steal the rubbish he keeps in the living room."

Sirius chuckled, walking up to the stove.

"Maybe if you praise my mother's portrait he'll stop..."

"Would love to, but I'm not a good liar."

"I can help you with that," He turned around for a moment. "Don't laugh when you speak, don't smile– if someone accuses you of causing mischief, act like it was the most insulting thing you've ever heard."

"What if they don't buy it?"

"Confidence is key, Mel. If you believe it, then it's done."

"Sirius, you're not giving my daughter bad advice, are you?" Emily walked in.

"Not at all," Sirius said, feigning surprise. "It shocks me that you think so, the only thing I want for Mel is her well being!"

"He's good..." Mel snickered.

"You have to pick your battles wisely, Paddie. A fifteen-year-old, or an experienced witch that's old enough to hex you," Emily warned him.

"I'll trust my luck," Sirius smirked.

"I got Molly's answer by the way," She ignored him, "The Weasleys will be here next Tuesday."

"Hang on... where will everyone sleep? I know the place is big, but..."

"Ginny can sleep with you," Emily started, "Ron can sleep in Phineas' room, the twins can sleep in the room next door to yours– Molly and Arthur can stay in Walburga's room..."

"But Sirius is in that room," Mel tilted her head.

"Yeah..." Emily glanced anxiously towards the man. "Sirius will take my room. I spend the night outside anyway, remember? Like uncle Lupin."

"But sometimes you don't."

"Little Em," Sirius told her. "Don't worry, your mother and I will make sure everyone's comfortable. As much as this bloody house can be..."

Mel knew Sirius was less than happy about spending his days locked up in the house where he'd lived the worse years of his life, but he was glad to have her, or at least he'd said as much. According to him, Mel was a lovely housemate.

She also knew there was something going on between the two adults. She could see it in the way Sirius would stare at her mother when she wasn't paying attention, and the way her mother would look more cheerful than usual after talking to him. The nights where she had to eat with the two blatantly flirting felt like personal karma from all those months she'd spent recklessly ogling at Harry in front of her friends.

"Can Hermione come too?" Mel asked.

"D'you think she'll want to come to this musty old place?"

"Please?"

Sirius sighed.

"Look at those eyes, Mily. I can't say no to those eyes!"

"Those are my eyes," The woman crossed her arms. "I can."

"I got my father's smile though," She said cheekily. "Please? It could be my first birthday surrounded by friends!"

"You heard that, Mily? Her birthday," Sirius said without missing a beat. "Are you going to deny such a simple request to your only daughter?"

"Oh, you two are unbelievable!"

"Is that a yes?"

"You have five minutes to write that letter and send it– Wipe that smirk off your face, Black. You're washing the dishes tonight."

Mel and Sirius high-fived, laughing at Emily's annoyance.

"And here's where we'll be sleeping!" Mel dragged Hermione into the room.

The house was definitely more fun now that the Weasleys and Hermione were there, from time to time some members of the order would visit as well as her uncle. The place almost felt like home.

"You're not sleeping with your mum?"

"My mum and Sirius share–" She stopped abruptly. "Mum goes out a lot, sometimes when she's here Sirius will give her his room so she can take the bed and he sleeps on the couch."

"Ginny sleeps here too?" Hermione examined the jumpers laying around on the other bed.

"Yeah!"

"How is she? She's over Harry now?" Hermione smiled. "She's okay with him liking you and all?"

Mel groaned internally. This was going to be a long month if people kept asking her about Harry.

"Harry doesn't like me."

"Please, Mel–"

"No," The girl interrupted. "I actually talked to him this time. Don't ask. It's better if we just forget it."

Hermione stared at her in shock.

"I–I could've sworn he... that he..."

"'Mione," Mel stared at her. "Forget it."

Hermione nodded, sitting down at the edge of the bed.

"Careful with the twins, by the way," She continued calmly. "They're free to do magic now, and they're out of control."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Ginny and Hermione were acting oddly ever since they found out she wasn't talking to Harry. They had the right to be, it was strange to see how unfeeling she was about being so far away from her former best friend. The twins and Ron, on the other hand, weren't that worried. They thought it was her way of coping and, in a way, it was.

They kept asking a lot of questions about Erick though, whether if he was to be trusted and exactly how much could they get away with. Mel thought it was funny, so she answered as many questions as she could.

Her birthday passed without much of a fuss, suddenly she was fifteen and just as quickly, Harry was too, but he wasn't there to celebrate. For the first time in weeks, she wished he could be there with them, she didn't dislike him as much as to wish him a bad birthday.

Hermione and Ron started to write to him. She tried to write a Happy Birthday note but it sounded stupid, she knew it'd be far from happy, all alone in Privet Drive. That night he would open his window only to see hers completely shut.

Erick's present had been one of those old radios his Grandad used to make with a note that said 'So you can practice your dancing' signed with two E's. She and the twins used it a lot while working on their products, that way it would drown the noise and their mothers wouldn't suspect as much. Mrs Weasley was on edge lately, Percy and his father had gotten into a real nasty fight and now the boy was gone, it had the poor woman in a terrible state.

One night after dinner, Fred walked into her room.

"Hey," She said without looking up. "Erick told me there's a station where they do these radio novels? I'm trying to find them, bet they're hilarious..." She said while toying with the buttons of the object.

"You're all right?" He asked, sitting next to her.

"Brilliant."

It was a lie. She'd been having a terrible headache for the past twenty minutes, probably because of the lack of sleep and the white noise.

"I'm not the best talker, and you don't have to say anything, but–"

"Not you too, Fred," Mel rolled her eyes, turning off the radio. "I told you I'm fine–"

"Exactly. I'd never seen you so calm about leaving Harry before, there must be something," He raised a brow.

"It's called growing up," She scoffed. "He's capable of looking after himself. You know it, I know it..."

"A real grown-up wouldn't avoid confrontation."

"That's rich coming from you, considering you keep hiding your products away from mummy."

"That's not fair, you know it's a safety measure!"

"Okay then," Mel stood up. "This is my safety measure. I don't talk about things that don't concern others..."

Fred caught her wrist and stopped her from leaving.

"Lady..."

"Using my nickname in that aching voice won't change my mind," She raised a brow. "Let go."

"Don't be grumpy, you're starting to sound real' bossy and you haven't gotten the Prefect badge yet!"

"Fred..." She tried to move. "Please, my head is killing me..."

"Did you guys fight?" He tilted his head, finally letting go. "I don't get why you fancy him if you're always bickering..."

"I don't like Harry."

"Yeah, right," Fred laughed.

"I don't," She tried to follow Sirius' advice and kept a neutral expression. "We went to the ball as friends. He saved me during the second task because I was his friend. What Skeeter wrote was rubbish, I don't fancy him."

"If you insist," Fred shrugged, but she could see he wasn't buying it.

He stood up as well and she realized, with a strange sense of accomplishment, that she was tall enough to reach his chin. She was about to point that out when something completely different came out.

"Why did you ask me to the ball?"

"What?"

"You said it was because you thought it'd be fun. Was that it?"

"Why does it matter?"

That was a good question.

Why did it matter?

But also, why not Fred? He was handsome, funny, smart...

It wasn't that she didn't like him, it was that she hadn't picked him. Sirius said there was more than one person for her, she just had to find them. Mel wasn't ready, but she would eventually, and if she could pick...

"It doesn't," Mel sighed. "I was curious, that's all. Ron used to think you fancied me, you know? I told them it was stupid..."

"Well, not stupid," Fred was quick to correct. "Just... I don't know, unlikely."

"Am I unworthy of your affection?" She joked.

He eyed her intently, like pondering the idea she had put out there. Suddenly, her mother stormed into the room.

"Harry was attacked," The woman blurted out.

"What?" Mel snapped, walking away from Fred.

"He's all right, but he used magic. The ministry has been looking for an excuse to get him– I'm afraid he just gave them one."

"Get him?"

"If we don't do something, he'll be expelled from Hogwarts."

"How– we're not– Do what?" She stammered.

"They're bringing him here," Her mother replied. "Harry's coming."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha​ @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere​ @t-rexs-world

[airi-p4]

Last Chance - Chapter 3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | AO3 ___________________________________

6 days later - Tibet - Miraculous Temple

Marinette’s POV

It’s been years since I last visited the Temple of the Miraculous. After becoming the Guardian it was hard to keep living with two identities at the same time, so I decided to return the Miraculous box to the Temple after Hawkmoth and Mayura’s defeat.  I had forgotten how hidden it was. I can’t believe it has taken me such a long time even with the Miraculous Compass to find the cave and the Miraculous room.

Now the box is in front of me, just as I remembered. After opening it, I put on the Ladybug earrings and Chat Noir's ring, not calling for any transformation, just missing my two friends. The kwamis appeared as soon as the jewels get set on their spot.

"Tikki…. Oh, Tikki! I've missed you so much!!"

“Marinette! I missed you too!” Tikki hugs my cheek like she used to. I missed her deeply. My best friend for years. And I know I cannot lie or fool her.

“Why do you look so skinny? What happened? Are you not happy?”

See? She knows me well. I’ll try to come up with an excuse but she’ll probably figure it out immediately. But I still gotta try.

“I-”

But of course I would be interrupted by Plagg first.

"Hey. How is Adrien? Don't tell me he looks as horrible as you, because he deserves happiness and I'm destroying the world if he is not happy."

"Plagg…"

I can’t face him. Not after leaving Adrien heartbroken like that. Not when there was so much sadness and pain in his emerald green eyes.

I couldn’t keep in touch with him after we broke up. I left him and never contacted him again. I couldn’t allow myself to drag him down with me anymore. Not when I was aware of how everything was leading to a marriage without either love and happiness. I left him so he could move on. But his pain was real and I feel horrible for that. My fingers are playing with the Black Cat’s ring as I consider taking it off so I don’t need to give Plagg any explanation.

No Plagg, no world destroyed.  

Not that I would mind myself being gone, but a world without Luka and his music would be too sad… and I still need this world to restore the past- our happiness.

"Wait Marinette! You’re wearing both the earrings and the ring! What are you intending to do? You know you can't use the Miraculous to change reality! You know the consequences of that! Don't do it!"

"Tikki… I have to do something to change this timeline. I can't go on anymore. I’m a mess. My regrets are taking over me and my sanity has probably been away for a long time"

I hate seeing Tikki’s worried and sad face, but I can’t hide her anything and she catches up easily on my ideas. But I have a plan and I want to carry it until the end. One week has practically passed and… my endurance can’t stand the stone weight on my heart anymore.

"You need to stop, lady. We can't support you with this"

As expected, Plagg joined Tikki to try to convince me. Tikki doing most of the talk. I can’t deny Plagg’s deathly glare is intimidating, while Tikki is more sympathetic.

"So many years fighting Hawk Moth to prevent him from using the wish and now… Marinette, you know you can't do it. You are the Guardian"

"She’s right. Just forget about it" Plagg adds.

"Yes, Marinette. There has to be another way!" Tikki cries.

Too bad my resolve is already set. I know that no matter what they say to me I can’t be stopped. Not when my life is on the stake. I’ve considered many possibilities, but the Miraculous box is my only chance. All the solutions where I stay alive include it, even if there are multiple possibilities and uses for the different powers. There’s even...

"Maybe there is, yes… I've seen what happens when you stop being the Guardian. Forgetting is bliss. I just need to appoint someone else as a Guardian… But… that wouldn't make me happy, would it? That would just make the new Guardian miserable"

“Marinette…”

“Thank you for trying, but I have to do it. I’m not going to use your powers. The ones I need are Fluff’s. I’m going to change this timeline. I’m going to correct my past mistakes. And I’m definitely going to be happy, even if I have to assume the consequences of it. “Fluff, transform me”

“Marinette… there’s nothing that has no solution! There has to be another way! I don’t want you to- “

I can’t help it but to smile a little at Tikki’s crying face. I know she loves me as much as I love her. But I know I have to do this. I kiss Tikki’s head and pat Plagg’s head before calling my power.

“Goodbye Plagg, Tikki… We’ll meet again in another timeline”

“Marinette!”

I gasp as I hear my name being called. Whose is that voice that sounded like an echo inside the cave I’m in? No, not voice - voices . They don’t belong to either Plagg or Tikki, neither Fluff. I look at the kwamis and I can see how their eyes seem to start shining again, but they look as confused as I am. Who…?

______________________________________________________

“Marinette!!! *cof cof* Are you here?”

This voice… it can't be… Master Fu!? Is his memory back? How?

No, that doesn't matter. I can't let him see me… He would be so disappointed… I need to hurry up and-

"Marinette, My Lady!! Don't do it, please!"

Adrien too… How could I face him after breaking his heart? I can’t.

"Girl, you need to stop whatever you are planning to do RIGHT NOW!"

"That’s right! Stop it, dudette!"

Alya and Nino… Why…? Why now? Alya has just had a baby recently! How can she come in her condition? What about the baby! No, that's not what I need to worry about. I just need to make it fast into the time hole and-

As I turn my head, I can see how Tikki’s eyes recover her light. Plagg’s too, and at the sound of Adrien’s voice I can’t stop the black cat kwami from flying directly towards his previous wielder.

“Marinette… your friends are here. They will help you! I’m sure you’ll find another way to solve it together, like when you were a team!”

“No, Tikki, they can’t…”

"Dupain-Cheng your better stop your nonsense immediately! You are ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!"

"Chloe…"

I’m already at the verge of crying when a new voice calls me, louder than any other, from a shouting in despair.

“MARINETTE...!!!!!”

No way... This can’t be… I’ve been dreaming of him calling my name again for so long - years, ever since the day he left my side. His voice sounds just as beautiful as his music, even when it's close to roaring and I can almost feel the pain in my own throat. I’ve never heard his voice so loud, not even in his concerts.

My heart aches at the sound of it for being reminded of what I’ve lost. But why would he come here? Why give me hope calling my name when he came along with his fiancée? How can I face him after sending all those embarrassing messages? Alix was right. I’m scared of rejection . Even if I have nothing to lose. I just want to disappear… My eyes move to take a look at the time portal that I’ve opened just a minute ago.

Yes, I can disappear...

________________________________________________________

“Marinette, stop! I beg you! You don’t have to do this! Your existence here is going to disappear if you do that!” Master Fu reminds me.

“Marinette, please, stop! You know what happens when you use the Miraculous powers like this. Don’t become like the man you used to hate. Don’t become like my father!”

“Marinette, don't go, please!”

Luka's screams sound as if he was singing into my ears… But that’s just probably my biased mind playing with my senses.

I have to go…

I admit Luka’s beg makes me stop for a second- hesitate. He’s so close, yet so far… Just a couple of minutes- seconds- before they reach me. The echo of the cave I’m in makes his voice resonate even louder, repeating my name over and over. If only I could keep listening to this voice by my side forever…

And that’s exactly why I have to go. My legs start moving towards the portal and once again, but Luka’s words make my full body stop.

“Don’t run away from me!!!”

Luka had always had this power on me. His words are almost hypnotizing his desperate cry is no different. When did I forget about it? My nervous system freezes.

I need to go, yet my body doesn’t move, paralyzed in fear - fear of rejection.

“I have to go… I need to fix this timeline… Move!” I shout to my legs.

I need to hurry. Run away from them. From their voices, from their faces. From Master Fu's disappointed face. From Adrien and his broken heart. From Alya and Nino and their happiness, which I can’t help but envy. From Chloe, fiancée of the man I love. And especially from Luka, the one I love the most- because, if I see him, I'm sure I won’t be able to stop myself from having second thoughts on what I’m about to do.

And I’m late once more. Luka is here, where the layers of darkness of the cave blend with the lights of the multiple torches of the room-like space the Miraculous box rests in.

He’s coming closer.

Closer.

Closer.

Closer.

Why didn’t I enter the portal when I had the opportunity to do so? Half of my body is still outside and my eyes are unable to stop gazing at the man of my dreams.

And his eyes meet mine.

I can feel my body throbbing with electric shocks from his glare. The light produced by his torch isn’t enough for me to see his face completely, but I can feel sorrow and worry surrounding him. There’s no words to describe what’s happening to me in this precise moment: I feel like my heart is about to explode at any time soon, ripping all my body into pieces.

And he speaks again after analyzing the situation.

“Marinette… Marinette, please, stop! Don’t go in there, I beg you! Don't you have something to tell me? Let me listen to it from yourself, with your voice! Let me see your face so I can dare to believe it! Don't make me go after you across that portal or wherever you’re going to”

I’m shocked. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Luka so alterated before. Neither panicking. True, he got angry that time with XY and Bob Roth but this... Is he really willing to go after me? Is it because it’s me, or just because he doesn’t want this timeline to end?

Can I have hope...?

No. It seems I can’t.  

Reality is cruel. And he’s not alone. Chloe appears just a moment later, clinging to him, grabbing his jacket from behind.

And I feel like the stupidest person in the world for having hope for a love that was never meant to be. Of course he wouldn’t want his happiness with Chloe to end… What a stupid woman am I...

His love for me was over the moment he left. A not destined love. A happiness not bound to happen. A missed chance. A chance that is over and can never come back. Unless…

Alya, Nino, Adrien and Master Fu are arriving too. I don’t have much time left- Luka is just a few steps away and he’s walking fast. No, he's running now. Very fast. So fast Chloé can’t follow his steps. And the expression showing on his face...

I take a deep breath and close my eyes strongly. I’m going to completely enter the portal at last. It’s now or never. I can’t let those eyes hypnotize me anymore. Here I go.

"Goodbye…”

I let my body fall on my back, recklessly- gravity doing its job, and my body is sucked inside the time portal just after I hear Luka’s words and I slip through his fingers.

“NO!! Marinette!!!!"

My heart terribly hurts at Luka's desperate cry.

After a few seconds- minutes-, I'm still by the entrance of the portal, one-sidedly watching and listening from inside. I can see how Luka falls into his knees, crying, in front of me. And something inside of me breaks.

I love him. I love him so much...

"Marinette… Sorry for being absent for so long. I’m sorry I left... I’m sorry for being selfish…I’m back now. Please… Come back… Is it too late...? Please… Please!”

I've never seen Luka crumble like this before and the sight alone is breaking my heart. I can't bear to watch.

If seeing him happy with Chloe pained me, seeing him like this, crying, is way worse- devastating. I want to hold him so bad. Like he used to hold me. Loving. Caring. Safely. My hands are now touching the portal, but at the inside part of it, still, luckily, not seen or heard.

But I can't stay… I must remember why I'm doing this in the first place: to restore our happiness together. I can't let this make my confidence drop.

I have to take my last chance .

As I look outside, I can't help it to see how Master Fu and the rest of the miraculous team get closer, joining Luka's cry, Adrien’s hand on his shoulder.

Wait. When did my tears join theirs too?  

Out of the sudden, I notice how Luka's cry stops. He’s looking up and his eyes are glowing in hope, directing his words to me once again.

“Marinette… I know you can still hear me from the inside… Please, come out. We're here for you. Please… Come back…"

I remain silent. But his speech continues as he's getting impatient. Rare in him unless is something very important... Well, it surely was important for the world but-

“You don’t want to come out? Very well, I'm coming in, then! I’ll get you out of here even if you don’t want me to. Excuse my rudeness, but you leave me no choice”

Surprised as I am, I can see Luka standing up and confidentially getting ready for action, lifting his arm to pass it through the portal.

No! I can’t let him do so!

My upper half body then crosses the portal to stop him, using my hands to impede him from getting through, shouting.

“NO! Luka, please! Don’t! You can’t go through a time portal without a Miraculous suit on! You’ll just…!”

“Disintegrate…”

That’s correct. Master Fu is most likely the only one who knows, except for the kwamis. The gasps I heard from behind him are proof enough of it. Did Luka know? Was he really willing to disintegrate along with her? The boy of my dreams keeps cutting my thoughts.

“STAY, then. With me. With us”

And once again I feel like I’m falling for him. Is it ok for me to enjoy this dream? Can I really stay with him? By his side?

My soul feels completely his, and I can’t stop Luka from locking his fingers with mine, taking advantage of the hands I used to stop him from touching the portal. And now I’m secured in his strong arms after he has pulled me out of the time hole. I feel like I’m about to melt into a puddle. Safe. Loved. His healing calm… All I’ve ever wanted and I’ve been missing all these years at the grasp of my hands. And I’m crying again.

I can still feel his hands on my back when my transformation gets called off. I’m facing down, eyes closed, and I can’t see anything, but I can feel the Miraculous Team presence very close. Their relieved comments are almost unheard because of my sobbing sounds, but I know they're there.

But a dream is a dream and it can’t last forever.

When I slightly open my eyes, I can see Chloé’s arms surrounding Luka from behind, and I can’t help it but notice it: that shiny stone . The big beautiful stone resting on Chloé’s ring finger on her left hand, reminding me the only man I’ll ever want and love is taken and that he’s not coming back to me despite the short dream I’ve just had.

I stop thinking at this point. There's only despair in my completely blank mind. Or should I say BLACK? I'm not even sure what I’m about to do. I’m not myself anymore. Instead, something darker than a demon seems to have taken over my body and soul.

And those unwanted words finally escape my lips.

“Plagg, Tikki, unify”

The whole atmosphere freezes as startled gasps continue to resonate in echos inside the cave.

And I can't feel anything anymore.

Out of love. Out of life.

Pure darkness.

[kieraswriting]

Difficult to Give Chapter Two

Masterpost

Previous Next

Patton spotted Roman waiting for him at their usual booth. He bounded up and sat down.  “So I got the new job!” He said excitedly. 

“That’s great!” Roman said. “Which one?”

“It’s a job at a pet store. So I’ll get to play with puppies and kittens and birds, and this one has a grooming service, and they said that they’d train me, so I didn’t even need experience!”

“That sounds awesome, Pat! Do they have hybrids too?”

“They do, but you have to have a background check and be trained specially before you’re allowed to play with them.”

“Would that be a problem?” Roman asked. 

“No, it just means I won’t get to for a while.”

“Oh, well that’s fine,” Roman said, “you’re so good with animals, I’ll bet you get to be assistant manager by the end of the year.”

Patton giggled, flattered. “I don’t want that, I just want to take care of the cute little things.”

Roman smiled. “And you’ll be the best animal carer out there.”

Just then the food came out. Roman had already ordered their favorites before Patton arrived. 

“So how are you doing?” Patton asked. 

Roman shrugged. “It’s fine. I got a role in that play. It’s not the one I wanted, but who am I to turn down a role?”

“Well, if you don’t actually want to do it, maybe you shouldn’t.”

Roman looked up, and Patton hurriedly added. “You’re a really good actor, and I’m sure you’ll do great as any character, but if you don’t actually want to, maybe it isn’t the best idea? There are other plays, other people that can see how great you are at it and give you the role you’d rather play.”

Roman smiled a little sadly and reached out to squeeze Patton’s hand. “Thank you. It means a lot to hear you say that… but I don’t think that other people would agree with you.”

Patton frowned. “Then they’re all blind!”

Roman laughed, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He turned back to his lunch. “So tell me more about this pet store.”

••^*^••

The tired employee left. He had come to tell them goodbye, that he was quitting. Logan was worried, but Virgil was nearly petrified. The tired employee had saved them so many times. If he wasn’t there, there would be another employee put in charge of them, and… honestly they had no idea what might happen. But it did seem likely that the tired employee was the reason that the store hadn’t gotten rid of them. If there was someone else, and they didn’t like them… 

“And there’s two more back here,” Logan could hear the manager saying. Soon the manager was visible, along with the newest employee. “They’re a whole different story. If you have any problems with them, let me know.”

The employee leaned over the cage and smiled at them. “Why are they so cheap? Are they really old?”

“No. They’re just as young as they look. We bought them for cheap, but didn’t realize then that they were rejects. The tall one is nasty and the dark one is deathly afraid of humans.”

“Poor things,” the new employee said, leaning over the cage again. 

Logan felt a strong inclination to hiss at him, but he knew that he couldn’t chance turning the employee against them. He did shift to hide more of Virgil from view. 

The manager moved on, and the employee followed her. 

Logan relaxed. They should be fine until the evening, when the new employee went around to feed the hybrids. 

He turned around and carefully laid a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “They’re gone now. It’s alright. Can you breathe?” 

Virgil nodded, and then grabbed Logan, burying his face into his chest. Logan wrapped his arms around Virgil. “It’s alright.”

“What if he gets mad at us?” Virgil said. “What if he separates us? What if he talks to the manager and they get rid of us? What if—what if they kill us?”

Logan pulled Virgil closer. “He won’t get mad. He seems to be a reasonable human. We can behave and he won’t get mad. He wouldn’t separate us either without reason. And he won’t have a reason to talk to the manager if we don’t give him one. There is no reason to get rid of us, much less do something like kill us.”

“What if he isn’t reasonable?” Virgil asked. 

“Then we’ll have to appeal to his emotional side. Even I can do that on occasion.”

After a minute, Logan let go of Virgil. “The store’s about to open.”

Virgil nodded. He sat down in the corner opposite Logan and put his head down in his knees. 

Logan didn’t miss the look the new employee was sending them. It was an ‘aww, so cute!’ type of look, which could be used, but was dangerous once the employee realized that they were not, in fact, as cute as he would like to think. 

••^*^••

Patton was really happy. Not only did he get to help with the hybrids, but he was the special caretaker of two of them. The manger had said that they were difficult, but they didn’t look difficult, just misunderstood. And the poor things only had one blanket between the two of them! They were in a teeny little bare cage when the other hybrids were all together in a big cage that had toys and fun things. 

Patton got their dinner, which was… a sandwich? Hybrids could eat human food? He was really going to have to do some research on hybrids. 

The sandwich was cut into two pieces, but they were pretty tiny little things. Maybe they didn’t get as hungry as he would have thought. 

He brought the sandwich to their cage and opened the door. They didn’t try to come out, like some of the other hybrids did when the cage was opened. Patton set down the plate on the bottom of the cage, closer to himself, in hopes they would come closer to eat. 

“Hi there,” he said quietly. The little one did look pretty scared, and he didn’t want to make it any worse. “I’m Patton.”

A thought ran through his head. What if he could be the one that helped them get better? It worked in all the stories. Enough love and care could fix anything!

The taller hybrid grabbed the edge of the plate furthest from Patton. “Good evening.” 

Patton gasped. “You can talk?!”

The hybrid frowned and cocked his head. “It is common knowledge that hybrids are capable of speech.” He pulled on the plate to drag it away from Patton, and passed one piece of the sandwich behind him to the other hybrid. 

“I didn’t know. I think hybrids are adorable, but I haven’t seen many up close.”

The tall one’s face twisted, as if he had thought about something bad. “I suppose you haven’t touched any hybrids either, have you?”

Patton shook his head. “No, I haven’t.”

The tall one glanced behind him, and then turned back to Patton. “Let’s start this off properly, then.” He held out his hand. “It is nice to meet you, Patton. My name is Logan.”

As Patton shook Logan’s hand, he realized that he was thoroughly charmed by this little hybrid. “It’s nice to meet you, Logan. So, I’ve been put in charge of you two, and I was wondering if you wanted any more—“ Patton cast around for the right word. “Things.”

Logan seemed surprised. “Well, yes. Some bedding in particular would be appreciated.”

Patton beamed, glad to be able to do something for them. “Then I’ll get some!” 

He shut the door and went into the supply room. He got two blankets and two pillows. That way he could take the old one and wash it. 

When he got back to the cage, the sandwich was completely eaten, and the plate was near the door. Patton opened the door. 

“So here’s some new bedding, and I’ll take the old one.” He reached out to take the old blanket. 

The tiny hybrid made a sudden noise, and while it wasn’t words, Patton could hear the scared ‘No!’ that it communicated. 

Logan pushed on Patton’s wrist. “Don’t take it. And move your hand away from him. Please.”

Patton pulled his hand back. “I was just going to wash it.”

“That particular blanket is… special to us.” Logan explained. “We’ve had it a long time.”

“I’d give it back once it’s clean,” Patton promised. Then he remembered. “I’m supposed to give you two a bath tonight anyway. I could wash it at the same time as I wash your clothes.”

The smaller hybrid reached out and gripped the back of Logan’s shirt. Logan clenched his jaw. 

“Can I make a request?”

“Well, sure! That’s fine. I’m supposed to be taking care of you, anyway. What is it?”

“We are capable of cleaning ourselves. Would you give us privacy while we bathe?”

Patton frowned slightly while he thought. “Well, I’d have to pull the soap down for you, since it’s up on a shelf, but the bucket we use for bathing hybrids is pretty open, it’s not like a bathroom or anything.”

“But you would be willing to let us wash ourselves, then?”

“Sure, that’s fine.”

Just then, the manager called him. “Patton?”

“Yes, I’m in here.”

She looked around the corner. “I’m just about to leave. Can you close up?”

“Sure!”

The manager smiled. “Thanks! And hey, they’re not so easy to bathe, little one screams and bites and all, so if you want to, just leave it till tomorrow and I’ll get you some help.”

“Alright. Thank you!”

The manager waved, and walked out the door. 

Patton turned back to the two hybrids. The smaller one’s face was bright red. 

“I-I won’t bite,” he said, his voice only barely audible, but clearly ashamed. 

“It’s alright, I didn’t think you were going to bite me. Why did you do it before, though?” Patton said. 

He didn’t answer, just curled into himself again. 

“He has been-“ Logan said, pausing to pick the right word. “Mistreated by humans before. It’s only natural, with that kind of background, to want to defend yourself when you’re being manhandled against your will.”

“Oh. I see.” Patton said, feeling like he understood the hybrid better now. “I’m sorry about that. I wouldn’t hurt you, though.”

“We would still prefer if you would allow us to do things for ourselves as much as possible,” Logan said. 

Patton nodded. “Then why don’t you come with me and we’ll get the bath set up.”

Patton stood up and walked into the back, holding open the door for the two hybrids.

There was a large closet, and on one side was a washing machine and dryer, and on the other was a sink and an low, wide bucket. Patton started running the water, and when it was the right temperature he stuck a little tube to the tap and ran the other end over the bucket. He pulled down two towels and the soap and handed them to Logan. Then he collected the clothes and blanket, and started them in the wash with several other things that had been collecting in the dirty basket. He got some clean clothes and set them near the bucket, and then left the hybrids alone until Logan cleared his throat to get his attention. 

“Aww, you two look so much better all clean!” Patton said. 

Logan coughed slightly, looking away. “Well, we wanted to thank you, for letting us do that on our own.”

The other hybrid nodded, but didn’t say anything. 

“You’re welcome,” Patton said, choosing not to mention how cute they looked at the moment. “Are you ready to go back home now?”

Logan nodded, and Patton went in front to open the door. 

He left them alone in their cage while he waited on the laundry to finish. The manager had advised him to save them for last, since it would take as long as the laundry would, but that was clearly not the case. Maybe he could call Roman? He felt bad about doing it while he was still on the time clock, but it wasn’t like there wasn’t anything else he was supposed to do. 

He finally compromised and decided to text Roman. 

Roman, I got to take care of hybrids tonight!

I fed them and bathed them and got them new bedding.

That’s great! 

How’d it go?

It was fun! 

They wanted to do it mostly

themselves, so I didn’t have much to do. 

I’d imagine. 

Really?

Because the manager thought that it

was going to be really hard. 

Probably the manager wanted you

to pick them up and bathe them like

puppies, yeah?

Maybe?

She didn’t give specific instructions

Most people treat hybrids more like animals

than humans. 

I thought that that was

because they have animal instincts?

Kind of? It’s a long story. Talk when you get home?

Sounds great!

Just then the washer beeped. Patton put the laundry in the dryer. It’d probably still take half an hour to be done. Soon he was bored again. 

Maybe he’d go talk to the hybrids again. 

Patton went out into the shop area, where the soft noises of sleeping animals filled the air. He peeked over to where the hybrids were. 

In the large pen, there were several piles of sleepy hybrids, with a few single ones wandering around. Over in the back corner, the little hybrid was hugging Logan again. It. Was. Adorable! 

Patton walked over to their cage. “Hi, guys! The blanket is still in the dryer, but it should be ready soon.”

“Thank you, Patton.” Logan said, letting go of the other one so he could slip behind him. 

Patton sat down next to the cage and opened the door so they could talk more easily. “So, I know your name, Logan, and you both know my name, but I don’t know yours.” Patton tipped his head to the side to try and look at the other hybrid. 

There was a pause, as both Patton and Logan waited. 

“No.” The little guy said. “I don’t want to tell you my name.”

“Oh.” Patton had not expected this at all. “What am I supposed to call you then?”

The hybrid had clearly not been expecting that kind of response, and looked to Logan. 

Logan looked thoughtful, as if it were a problem, but one of a kind he liked. “A representative word… that’s not demeaning… and relatively easy to say… Anxiety.”

Patton immediately disliked the idea. It sounded mean, like a name a bully would give. But to his surprise, the other hybrid was nodding. 

“Ok. I guess I’ll call you Anxiety then.” Patton said, though he still felt unsure. 

It was soon after that Patton heard faintly the beep from the dryer. He pulled out the blanket that Logan and Anxiety wanted, which was easily identifiable, because it was the most worn down of all of them. Then he folded up and put away the clothes quickly. He gave the blanket to the two hybrids, locked up, and went home. 

[darisu-chan]

Marco’s Feelings (Or How He Lied to Himself Almost the Whole Show): An Analysis, Part 1

Alright

So I said I was going to write an analysis after Marco’s confession back in Here to Help and what it means about his feelings for Star throughout SvtFoE. Now, I’m sure some people have said this before, others might have refuted this already, but I’m going to start by saying I knew Marco had feelings for Star back in Blood Moon Ball. I wasn’t really in this fandom back then, so I didn’t make any posts about it. I honestly thought it was obvious, but season 3 and 4 showed me that a lot of people take things at face value, so naturally when Marco confessed, well, some things I’ll be analyzing in this post, a lot were confused, others misunderstood. I’m here to clarify some things.

So, let’s go! 

(Long post ahead)

Disclaimer: although this is my opinion, I’m basing it on the subtext of the show and not on what I just want to believe. I know I’m a starco shipper, but, honestly, the plot made me like them and not the other way around. I’ve shipped Star and Marco with other people, although, ultimately, I do prefer them with each other because of what I’m about to explain in a bit. So take that in mind.

Anyway, let’s start with what Marco actually said, and then I’ll be analyzing it part by part:

“Marco. You told me you love me.”

“Ah... Okay...” marco.exe stopped working

“Maybe it was just a fragment of your subconscious mind, but─”

“No. It’s not a fragment of anything. That’s... the whole Marco. Y’know, the whole Blood Moon Curse? That ordeal? Well, it’s bologna. I’ve felt like this since the beginning. I mean... I’m not a little boy... I know that you just don’t fall in love at first sight! The way I feel... it’s just gotten more intense since we first met. And it was intense at the start and I know it’s in the way.”

“In the way? Marco, why does it have to be bad?”

“It is bad if you don’t want it.”

“Okay, can we kiss?”

“Uh... please”

“Marco, I want you to love me because I love you.”

Okay, the part everyone misunderstood is the following: “I’ve felt like this since the beginning.” 

How could this be if Marco had a huge crush on Jackie-Lynn Thomas and even wanted to be Mr. Lynn Thomas?! There’s no way he fell in love at first sight with Star! They’re just trying to push Starco! Marco didn’t even like Star!

And, yeah, but that’s not what Marco exactly said. Most people ignored what he said next and, honestly, that’s the part which is more relevant: “ I mean... I’m not a little boy... I know that you just don’t fall in love at first sight! The way I feel... it’s just gotten more intense since we first met.” 

Marco knows it was not love at first sight, precisely, but more of an intense feeling. And, yes, as we know, Marco did not like Star the moment they met:

He was scared of her magic and what it could do, because let’s face it, Star had no control over it at the start 

He was also pretty much annoyed at her

He didn’t want to show her around school or live with her, and he didn’t even like the laser puppies!

So what changed?

If you remember on Star Comes to Earth Ludo attacks her at the end, right in front of the Stop & Slurp. Star attempts to fight him, she’s even raising her wand, when Marco steps between her and one of Ludo’s minions and attacks him with his awesome karate moves. Star is very impressed with his abilities and together they defeat Ludo and his minions:

@isaackuo​ has said before that Marco bonds with others through shared fighting, and the first time we saw it was with Star.

Think about it, when you’re fighting someone with another person, you need to trust that other person completely, trust that they’re going to cover your back, as you’re going to cover theirs. It also involves teamwork and learning to understand body language. Never mind the fact that there’s obviousy an adrenaline rush, which helps with the intensity of the feeling. In the fight, both Star and Marco are in sync and, most of all, they are having fun.

On the aftermath of the fight, Ludo leaves and they are alone. Marco says that “It was amazing! You were amazing!” excitedly. Then Star is sad cause she believes that after all of that Marco won’t want to live with her, but he says that he doesn’t want her to go, that he wants her to stay with his family. Then Star, who is a very affectionate girl, hugs him for the first time.

This is the actual start that Marco is talking about. This is when he felt that intense feeling. It’s not the moment when they first met, it’s the moment when they became friends. Or the moment when they truly met each other. Starco is heavily linked with the idea that true love is born from a great friendship, which is why this is the moment Marco first felt it. 

It’s not love. I want to clarify that. Because love comes from turly knowing someone, flaws and all, and still trusting them, accepting them, wanting to be with them, and caring for them. This wasn’t love then. But it was the spark.

It’s hard to explain, but I’m going to do my best to do it. Sometimes, you meet people and you don’t click right away. In fact, it can take years for a friendship to blossom between you and this other person, let alone a relationship. It can also happen you meet someone and you don’t think anything about them at all. If they become important to you, it’s through a serious of secondary meetings when you get to know them. Other times, you are attracted to someone right away physically, and you intend to be more than friends (this is what happened with Tomstar when they dated for the first time). Finally, there are times when you don’t know what it is, but there’s a feeling that a person is going to be important to you. Maybe it’s not love, maybe it’s not even physical attraction, it’s just this intense feeling that this person is important to you. What will happen next? Who knows. But you want to be by their side, getting to know each other better. Because you feel it in your very soul that you won’t be the same person you were after meeting them.

I’ve been through all of the above situations with the guys I’ve dated/liked/fallen in love with. I’m an adult, I’ve lived through a lot romantically, and I can say that, although I’ve appreciated every single instance of falling in love, especially since it’s so rare as an adult, the one that marked me the most is that moment when I first met the guy who would later become my first love. I knew even then that he was going to be important to me. And he was. More important than I could’ve ever imagined. Easily the guy who has changed me the most. And it’s this feeling the one I’ve been craving ever since. That spark, that intensity, is like nothing you’ll ever feel. It’s not rooted in attraction or lust, it’s more about your very being saying “Hey, looks like I find you.”

This is what happened to Marco.

It’s not that he necessarily felt attracted to Star in the same way he was to Jackie, but there was this intense feeling that only got even more intense as time went on, as they bonded by living together, going to school together, and going on adventures together. And Star probably felt it too. Why do I say this? By Party with a Pony, Star already thinks of Marco as her best friend, and the sentiment is mutual. From then on, as they become closer and closer, so do Marco’s feelings.

So why didn’t he say anything? And why did he still have a crush on Jackie?

First of all, Marco had crushed on Jackie since he was in preschool, maybe even younger, as we can see in Freeze Day. Being 14 and all, it was unlikely for Marco to suddenly accept the idea that he liked anyone other than Jackie. But here’s the thing, Marco liked the idea of Jackie, he didn’t actually know her,  as he himself admits in Sleepover. We can’t say, as of season 1, that he was in love with her. It’s easier to keep crushing on someone you don’t know because there’s nothing to lose. Marco could keep on just liking Jackie without any commitment or rejection.

Marco is deathly afraid of rejection. We have seen it numerous times. At the start of the series, Marco had low self-esteem and tried to be someone he wasn’t. He didn’t want to be known as the Safe Kid. He didn’t want to be known as this nerdy guy who never takes risks. He wanted to be a Misunderstood Bad Boy, which translates to being a daring guy who takes every risk, and that the girls as cool as Jackie fall head over heels for. That’s what Marco thought would get him the girl and take all of his problems away.

And who’s even cooler than Jackie?

Oh, I don’t know, maybe the magical princess from another dimension?

And Marco knows this, as he said in Cheer Up, Star

He also is very much aware of the fact that Star likes bad boys. She has a crush on Oskar, Mr. Skips-classes-to-play-the-keyboard and Guy with a Record. And Marco also knows all about Star’s ex demon boyfriend, Tom, as it’s made clear to us in Blood Moon Ball. These type of guys are cool, mysterious, dangerous and, yeah, hot. Guys so far removed from who Marco thought he was that he didn’t stand a single chance. Star did like the Misunderstood Bad Boy bit Marco tried to play. Because, back then Star was a rebel princess. She didn’t want to become queen and have responsibilities. She wanted to go on whacky adventures and live her life with zero attachments and commitments. Oskar, and even Tom before all his development, fell under this category. Marco didn’t. He never has. He’s always responsible and always worried about the future and the consequences of his actions. It’s not that he doesn’t let loose, but he knows when to and how to. Star didn’t back then, and she wanted a guy who was as rebellious as she was. If indeed, Marco had tried anything during the first season, he would’ve been ultimately rejected for these reasons... and he was, but I’ll talk about that later.

I’m not going to talk about every single interaction between Marco and Star, but just know that from the moment they fought together, they became closer and closer enough that Blood Moon Ball made a difference.

Honestly, when that episode aired I was surprised they had put in the minds of the audience the idea of romantic Starco. I had already known they would probably end up together, mainly because their crushes were untanaible and the kind you get before you actually mature and can fall in love for real. I just thought they would wait until the second season to explore that side of their relationship. But, nope, Daron Nefcy said “to heck with it” and boom! We had this episode. So, to dive into this, I could start with Tom and Star, but we’re not analyzing them. We’re analyzing Marco. So, to begin with, we’re made aware of the fact that Marco knew all about Star’s ex-boyfriend before Tom even made an appearance. I’m guessing that at some point they got around talking about their love lives, as teens will do, and Star vented about Tom. It hadn’t been that long since they broke up, or at least I got that idea from Lake House Fever. 

Anyway, when Marco first met Tom, he saw him and Star together in the parking lot, and he immediately attacked and put himself between them, in a protective manner. 

Then, when he finds out Tom wants to take Star to the Blood Moon Ball, he doesn’t want her to go with who he assumes to be a predator. And, throughout the episode, Marco does not want Star to go. I assumed before a certain scene when watching this episode for the first time, that he was just being protective of his friend. Friends don’t let friends go out with their exes, especially when they have hurt them. It’s not explicitly said, and I believe it also has to do with the way they turned Tom from abusive to an actually misunderstood guy with anger issues, but I always thought he had hurt Star a great deal by the way she refused to see him. However, Star liked bad boys, and was rebellious to a fault, so when Marco told her “hey, maybe this isn’t a good idea”, of course she wanted to go. And she went even if Marco didn’t want her to go. Up until this point, I wholeheartedly believed Marco was just a worried friend, he even says that he will have his own Blood Moon Ball in Star’s bedroom with blackjack and h**kers and then freaking Alphonse the Worthy says:

“Blood Moon tonight... The moon of lovers...”

That’s when Marco stands up and has the idea to go to the ball to save Star.

Now, again, that could have been misunderstood as the actions of a worried friend fearing their friend was about to go back to their ex. And yes, to an extent that is true of Marco. But listen closely to Alphonse’s lines, and you’ll notice there is an emphasis on the word lovers. It wasn’t put there as a mistake. That, paired up with Marco’s immediate reaction, leads me to think he was also acting as a guy about to lose the girl he likes. He was jealous of Tom. Of the fact he got to spend time with Star at the ball, but knowing that it was meant to be an incredibly romantic event, as the word lovers suggest, was the last straw. He didn’t go to stop the Blood Moon from happening, Marco didn’t even know that it’d bind the souls of two lucky souls together. He went there to get Star.

Although the beginning of the dance was incredibly romantic, I believe that Marco’s actions of wanting to get Star out of there speak more than the dance itself. Even after the dancing and escaping Tom, Marco believes he did the right thing and even goes as far as to say “I hate to say it but I warned you about Tom.” All of his actions don’t really speak of just a worried friend. A worried friend would have tried to stop her, but, ultimately, let her do what she wanted. Marco didn’t do that. He reacted to the word lovers and flipped. It wasn’t a coincidence. But what cements this argument the most is that, when Star explains why she’s mad at him, she says the following:

“I know you’re trying to look out for me, but you have to let me figure things out on my own. I don’t need a hero. I need a friend.”

A hero is the person who saves a damsel in distress and, normally, gets with her in the end. Star didn’t want to be saved. But, knowingly or unknowingly, she also shut down any possibility of romance between her and Marco. Because what she needed back then was for Marco to be her friend and nothing more. And Marco has a dawning realization during this scene, you can see it on his face:

So that’s what Marco chooses to be, Star’s friend:

However, the episode ends with the note of “but maybe they could be more” with the final scenes, not only showing that the Blood Moon has, indeed, bonded them together, but that their relationship is what is important:

I never, not even for one second, thought it was suppossed to be a curse. Just a traditional soul mates take on a pairing, as it’s been done before. In fact, by the way it barely even appeared in seasons 2 and 3, I don’t think it was that much of a curse, but they had to make it a curse and retcon it so that Starco seemed more legit to the audience, because they probably knew the fandom had begun calling it a curse, and the more they dragged out Tomstar, the more Starco seemed to be invalidated by the fans. I could go on and on about CotBM but I’ve done my ranting before. But this explains why I was not even surprised when Star said:

“What if it was never the Blood Moon?”

Because of course it was never the Blood Moon. The two of them already had feelings for each other. Star’s feelings for Marco are more hidden in the first season, and are mostly found on her diary entry “My thoughts on Marco.” But now we know that Marco started feeling something for Star back when they fought together with Ludo on the first episode, and that Marco went after her on BMB because the feeling got more intense and he was jealous. The Blood Moon chose them because they had feelings for each other, and not to force them to fall in love. They already liked each other, it was a matter of time before they actually fell in love. That’s why Marco says the whole ordeal is bologna, because it is. It had no real influence on his feelings for Star, because it didn’t start them. We can argue they intensified them, but that’s confusing because there were only like two instances in which we can say “yeah, definitely his actions were being intensified” and those were on Booth Buddies when he and Star kissed, and CotBM, at the beginning when he’s crying to Eclipsa about how adorable Star is. I also don’t believe he went back to Mewni solely because of the curse, but I’ll talk about that later.

This also explains why when they broke the curse with the severing stone, their feelings didn’t stop, because I’m going to argue there is no one memory of the moment they fell in love. Marco, and most likely Star too, developed an intense feeling after fighting Ludo and during that hug, but Marco says that, though he felt something from the start, it just got intense from then on. In another post after CotBM I said that, in reality, there’s never a moment that makes you fall in love with someone. It’s the little moments you share together that make you fall in love with someone. The Blood Moon Ball wasn’t the moment they fell in love, it was just one of the many instances in which their feelings started growing for each other. I’m going to go ahead and say that the decisive moment for both of them was Storm the Castle. That episode was the game changer not only plot-wise but in their relationship. Their hug at the end was the longest that season, and it’s one of their most important ones.

Resuming the events of BMB, after Star told him she needed a friend, Marco did an amazing job repressing his feelings and just being the best friend he could be. We weren’t shown Marco feeling anything romantic for the rest of that season, and even the first half of season 2. He acted like a friend to Star and he fooled not only the audience, but he also fooled himself. And it’s not like the two didn’t share very important moments together, they did!, but they could be interpreted as purely platonic. And you’d be alright with that assessment. Marco continued crushing on Jackie and Star on Oskar. The status quo wasn’t broken. 

Of course this couldn’t last forever, which is something we’ll be tackling on the next part of this analysis.

I hope you have enjoyed this read so far. As it is getting extremely long, let us stop here right before season 2, and I’ll be continuing in another post. If you have any questions and comments, feel free to ask, my inbox is always opened. 

If you disagree with anything I’ve said or you have something to add during the first season, also feel free to tell. 

I will not, however, accept any curse words and hate in general. I am not claiming you all should like Starco or like the ending for that matter. I am just trying to explain the fact that his feelings did not come out of nowhere. The writing in this show has not always been the best, but the writers are professionals, so let us give them the fact that a lot of the show was foreshadowed in season 1, including Starco.

Anyway, this is it from now. 

I’ll see you guys again in Part 2.

[evelyns-spilled-tea]

Storyteller Saturday! 💖 What sort of things are your characters afraid of? Any phobias in your cast? Is anyone embarrassed about their fears?

Sorry for this being so late; wanted to finish some writing projects before I could answer this. One of those was renaming my characters, so there’s probably gonna be quite a few unfamiliar names lol

fsfsfs this ended up way longer then I meant it to be I apologizes 

Fae is afraid of losing her loved ones and disobeying her father. It hurts her whenever her siblings are hurt, and she’s forever wishing she could do more. She’s not as open with her fear of her father, but she’s definitely aware of it and it prevents her from doing things she wants to do. She’s always thought Maria was brave for standing up to him.

Maria would tell you she doesn’t have any fears, but she’d be lying. I think, subconsciously, she’s afraid of being alone and tries to fill the void in her heart through partying and sex. She’s also afraid of losing control, especially if that means being controlled. She’s also very put off by corpses and human-like figures, as they remind her of something she’d very much like to forget. She’s also lowkey afraid of her little sister Abigail due to her doll making obsession.

Faith is also creeped out by the dolls littering her sister's room, but less so when compared to Maria. Needles and corpses are offputting. She’s also frightened by her father and authority figures in general; specifically, she’s terrified by the idea of disobeying authority, and the consequences that come with it. She’s deathly afraid of strangers, as her dad says strangers can be anything from a murderer to a kidnapper to something far, far worse. 

Abigail was a bit of a challenge to find fears for; she doesn’t really show any emotion other than happy most of the time. However, I think she’d be afraid of imperfection, especially in her dolls. Anything less than perfect is an insult to the original inspiration. She’s also definitely afraid of rejection, though it doesn’t stop her from taking leaps of faith, as well as being alone, and being hated. And the fear of her loved ones dying governs most of her actions.

Iapetus was also interesting; his biggest fear is definitely failure, both by his own mistakes and by the mistakes of his daughters. He also fears being weak or vulnerable as well as losing control. However, I think in his own twisted way he does love his kids, and they’re in a culture where being weak can mean death or enslavement, so he fears that he could lose his children if he doesn’t teach them strength.

Echo is mostly afraid of losing his pride and joy, his collection. Though, as a lower level demon, he makes a noticeable point to stay away from the high level fae.

Seha and Leto have very similar fears; fear of losing their freedom, fear of being controlled or captured, fear of being trapped. Seha tends to avoid confrontation. But the thing that scares them the most is losing each other; after all, at the end of the day, they’re all they have.

Happy has already realized most of her fears, but I’d say the one thing she is afraid of is losing Moa.

Moa, on the other hand, is afraid of pain, body horror, and spiders, the awful boney things; she’d be willing to go through those things if it meant helping Happy though.

Irene fears being vulnerable, being trapped, and trusting anyone other than her little sister Joy. She’s already gone through more than enough trauma, and if she lost her sister because of some asshole it would crush her.

Joy is uncomfortable with silence, the dark, being alone, and being intensely stared at. She’s especially freaked out by that feeling of chills down your back when you’re alone and you can feel eyes boring into the back of your skull. She tries not to let on that she’s anxious though because Irene worries.

Raven always gets into fight mode when she’s near alcoholics and the smell of drinks is always a surefire way to piss her off. She has a similar reaction to men, especially older men, that are bigger than her.

Chinwe is afraid of their god, specifically disobeying their god, as well as authority figures in general; though they don’t really have anyone else with authority over them.

Evelyn fears being alone with nothing to distract themselves with because that will leave them with their grief and regret. Though this is less a fear, and more of a solemn acceptance that it’ll happen eventually and they may as well take advantage of the entertainment while it’s still here.

[omgrachwrites]

Ocean Avenue (Bucky Barnes)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC

Summary: When Darcie Baker - the daughter of a police officer - breaks her misfit friend’s heart at 16 she regrets it everyday even after she graduates though she knows she can’t go back and change what happened. Everything changes when over 10 years later she meets the gorgeous mechanic.

Warnings: fluff, swearing, Bucky being a cutie

Words: 2008

A/N: I am so so sorry for the wait, I haven’t had a great mental health week but I’m better now! I hope you guys enjoy and please let me know what you think, I love you all very much! xxx

Part Nine

Sixteen year old Darcie smiled at the handsome young man as he walked back across the deep sand with two full sodas firmly in his hands. Darcie could smell the sea salt that resided in Bucky’s thick hair as he sat next to her on the almost scorching sand and he slung an arm over her shoulders like it was the most casual action in the world. The motion of Bucky’s arm caused Darcie to blush as she moved closer to him, she felt so safe in his arms.

“One blue raspberry lemonade,” he gave her a dimpled cheeky grin as he slyly took a sip of it before he passed it over to her.

“Thank you Buck,” she giggled before she took a gulp of the refreshing, tangy beverage and she sighed in a contented sort of way as she basked in the warm evening sun. It was especially warm for late October.

“So,” Bucky started as he twirled her silky blonde hair through his nimble fingers, “are you leaving me to watch the sunset alone again or are you staying to watch?” Bucky teased and Darcie rolled her eyes with a smile.

For a couple of weeks now the pair had been coming to the beach and every time they’d meet at the beach Darcie always had to leave early so her father wouldn’t get suspicious of where she was, “I’ll put you out of your misery Buck, my dad thinks that I’ve gone to Sam’s for diner.”

“Great! You can watch the second most beautiful sight in the world,” Bucky grinned, he looked so happy that Darcie was so glad that she was staying with him.

“What’s the first most beautiful sight in the world?” she asked, genuinely interested about what his answer was going to be.

Bucky’s cheeks flushed ever so slightly and he looked at Darcie, pressing a feather light kiss to her cheek, “you,” he whispered to her.

“Bucky,” she muttered gently, feeling her cheeks heat up just the same as Bucky’s as she turned to look at him, his lips now pressed against her forehead.

Bucky marvelled at the beautiful sight of her, she was glancing up at him from beneath her long, thick eyelashes and she cupped his face in her warm hands, bringing his face down to meet hers. It was their first kiss, it was slow, soft and almost a little hesitant, Darcie’s lips were soft and firm, they tasted like the blue raspberry soda that she’d been drinking.

Bucky made a soft noise in the back of his throat, humming in pleasure as Darcie’s hands left his cheeks and carded through his thick hair, tugging at the dark strands. As the kiss deepened Bucky pulled Darcie closer by her waist and she took his hint to slide into his lap, her hands cupping either side of his neck.

The beautiful girl in his arms gasped as Bucky gently bit her bottom lip, tugging it playfully between his teeth. His tongue sneaked into her mouth and he ran the tip of it along the length of Darcie’s tongue, making them shiver in unison, pulling away when the lack of air became too much to bear. When they pulled away from one another they both chuckled and pressed their foreheads together.

Bucky left a light kiss on her forehead, his gentle fingers stroking through her soft hair that had become slightly tangled in the light ocean breeze, “I was going to save that kiss for Homecoming but I just couldn’t wait,” he chuckled.

Darcie beamed at him as she laced her fingers through his, “I’m glad that you didn’t wait,” she smiled, “c’mon!” she said suddenly and she got out of his lap to sit next to him and she rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, “let’s watch the sunset before we miss it.”

Darcie kissed him on the nose and snuggled further into his chest as the couple watched the sky turn a blood red orange colour. Bucky draped his signature leather jacket that smelled of aftershave and cigarettes over Darcie’s shoulders when the wind picked up and she shivered. After their sunset show was finished they strolled along the beach, hand in hand until they got to the sidewalk. Bucky sighed a little sadly and he moved her hair out of her eyes as he cupped her chin, his thumb rubbing against her smooth warm skin that was a little red from the blazing sun.

“What’s wrong?” Darcie pouted as Bucky’s hands moved from her face to her waist and she wrapped her arms around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair.

“I wish that I could walk you home,” he said simply.

“Oh Bucky” she stroked his cheek softly to comfort him; “you know that you can’t. Thank you though,” she kissed his cheek to soften the blow of the rejection.

Bucky smiled but Darcie noticed that it didn’t reach his eyes; she wished that she could make him happy, “well, I’ll see you tomorrow at school doll.”

“Yeah, you will,” she confirmed with a wink and she pressed another lingering kiss to his cheek before she set off back home.

--------------------------------------------

A couple of weeks later, the day before Homecoming Darcie left her last class of the day with a beaming grin on her face. The class had had a particularly nasty biology test, even Darcie – who was a natural at biology found it difficult. Though, she had passed with flying colours and she was extremely happy about that fact. Her dream to be a surgeon was still within her grasp.

Bucky obviously noticed the beaming grin on her face and said with a chuckle, “I’m guessing you passed then?”

“I did!” she smiled happily, “how did you do?” she asked and Bucky grimaced as he ruffled a hand through his hair.

“Not too well,” he tried his hardest to shrug it off nonchalantly but Darcie could tell that he was bummed.

She bit her lip thoughtfully as she, Sam and Bucky walked out of the building, “we can study for the next test if you want to?” she offered which earned her a winning smile as Bucky reached down and grazed his fingers up against hers.

Darcie was about to link their fingers together until Sam nudged her arm, “your dad’s squad car is right over there,” he hissed and Darcie gasped, she completely forgot that he would be collecting her from school.

“Buck, I’m so sorry, I have to go,” she chewed her lip as Bucky looked hurt at the hurried goodbye, “Sam do you need a ride home?”

“No thanks sweetheart.”

Darcie smiled tightly at Sam and Bucky before she walked as slowly as she could towards her dad’s car. She could see her dad’s expression through the car window, it was unreadable and she wasn’t sure whether he’d seen them together or not. Darcie closed her eyes briefly as she climbed into the deathly quiet car.

The ride back to the house was extremely awkward, every time she glanced over at her dad and opened her mouth she lost her confidence at the sight of his clenched jaw and the tight grip he had on the steering wheel. Darcie’s mom had made her favourite pasta dish and conversation between everybody seemed a little strained but mostly it was okay. Halfway through dinner Darcie’s mom directed a question at her.

“How did you do in your biology test sweetheart?” Darcie smiled lightly as she took a sip of her drink.

“I passed it, I got the highest grade in the class, I’m really quite proud of myself!”

“That’s great baby!” her mom beamed and turned to look at her husband, “isn’t that great Andrew?”

For one of the first times that evening Darcie’s dad made eye contact with her, “that is great, well done Darc,” he paused as he took a forkful of food into his mouth and chewed slowly before swallowing, “but you know what isn’t great? You being friends with that delinquent Bucky Barnes,” his face was like thunder, he looked very angry and Darcie almost cowered back in her seat and she suddenly started babbling and attempting to make her excuses.

“Dad, look I-,” she started but her speech was halted by her dad holding his hand up.

“Don’t even try and lie to me young lady,” he started sternly, a muscle twitching in his jaw irritably.

“Andrew,” Darcie’s mom began but she too was silenced by a glare.

“I saw the both of you leaving the school together today, I just can’t believe that you would ever jeopardise your future by befriending scum. I am so disappointed, me and your mother both. I didn’t want to believe it when my colleague told me that he saw the two of you on the beach together a few weeks ago. It thought that you were smarter than that, I was obviously very wrong. You’ll never become a surgeon at this rate; you’ll give up everything that you’ve ever wanted for the sake of a lowly criminal.”

Darcie’s chest hurt at the harsh words that were spilling from her dad’s mouth, she cared about Bucky so much, more than she could say but even she had to admit that there might be a little bit of truth in her dad’s words. She had never wanted to disappoint her dad and she desperately wanted to be a surgeon.

“So, what do you want me to do?” she muttered, dropping her eyes to her plate – she’d lost her appetite.

“I want you to cut off ties with him. As soon as possible.”

Darcie finished her story and she nervously glanced up at Bucky, Steve, Peggy and Carol. She rather thought that she ought to give them a proper explanation, they deserved that much. Especially Bucky.

“I don’t know what my dad would have done if I didn’t cut things off with you. He was so angry; I was scared that he’d arrest you or something.”

All four of them stared at her blankly, obviously completely dumbstruck until Bucky broke the uncomfortable silence, “right, thanks for um telling me the truth; I don’t know whether I should be offended or happy that it wasn’t completely your idea to break it off with me. Maybe I should be a little bit of both,” he finished and checked his watch, “I’d better go, I’m nearly late for my date, I’ll see you guys later,” he stood up from the couch.

Darcie’s heart clenched painfully, Bucky had a date, that’s why he looked even more handsome than usual. Darcie couldn’t take it if he left on these awkward terms so she followed him as he strolled towards the door, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“Bucky, wait,” she called and he froze mid step and turned to face her, raising an eyebrow politely, “I’m sorry,” she finished lamely

He sighed as he cupped her cheek, “I’m sorry too, sorry that you didn’t feel like you could tell me the truth,” he placed a kiss on her forehead, just like he used to, Darcie closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, “I have to go, I’m sorry,” he whispered against her skin. By the time that Darcie had opened her eyes he’d gone out of the door, leaving a hole in her heart.

-------------------------------------------- 

@theonelittleone @void-imaginations @dreamacoholic @thesswintersoldier @wavyjassy @harryngtonewithyourshit @iamariotgrrl @panic-naran

[macbetha]

Preview 2 of Part II of Alone Together: A MakoHaru Zombie Apocalypse AU (preview one here) 

When Haru wakes up later that night, Asahi and Kisumi are asleep on the train floor curled up on either side of Tsukushi as usual. Haru picks up his flashlight and tiptoes over them on his short trip across the gloomy subway station to the bathroom. It’s haunting, wandering through an abandoned place that once bustled with life; it’s a new wave of disturbance-normalized. He yawns and swings open the bathroom door only for his heart to shoot up his throat. A lantern sits on the floor, casting warm shadows over the tiles, sensuous. He imagines a night in a bedroom full of dark promise would be lit no differently. The space looks so much more confined with Makoto’s frame standing so tall, casting shadows of his own. His bulky cargo pants are slung low over the ridges of his hips and Haru’s eyes climb the twin rows of Makoto’s abs. They flex with Makoto’s sharp inhale and Haru’s gaze snaps to the full of him, taking in everything and nothing all at once – Makoto’s hunched over the sink, frozen with a rag half-way to his face. Haru blinks dazedly at the realization that he was hiding freckles under the grime on his nose, and his throat is wet, dripping – “Oh – hi.” Makoto’s gaze drops like he doesn’t know what else to do or say. “Hey,” Haru huffs out, lungs malfunctioning. Neither of them move for a moment until Makoto straightens up. “I’m, uh, almost finished –” Haru waves him off and somehow makes it over to the sink in his muddled trance, stomach lost somewhere at his feet. “It’s fine.” Hell no it’s not, but what else is he supposed to do? He could wait for Makoto to finish washing up, but there’s something between them that would make his exit look like rejection. So Haru shuffles over to the sink and sets his flashlight and rag on the counter. He takes a glance at the mirror and mortification knifes his stomach – he’s filthy and sickly thin, but he can’t make this situation weird by being hesitant. So he drags off his cap, wincing when dust billows off his hair. Makoto is deathly quiet the entire time, the muffled splash from the sink the only indicator that he’s even still alive. Haru keeps razor-focus on the mirror as he soaks the rag and drags it across his neck, but he can’t help but sigh at the feeling of cold water – dust liquifies under the cloth, rolling down his throat in thin gray rivers. He smears the rag over his face, staring into the mirror and marveling at the boy who appears under the coating of grime. He doesn’t look like he remembers; physically, he’s gaunt with sunken eyes that look too big for his face, cheekbones sharpened by starvation. But he can also tell just how much he’s changed under the skin. He was never an expressive person, his features usually levelled in indifference, but now he’s disturbingly hardened. Only animals have such a look in their eyes. Sadness tightens his chest as he mourns his reflection in absolute silence. There’s a shift of weight to his left, and Makoto’s voice is gentle. “I have some soap if you want it.” Haru blinks back to himself and nods faintly at Makoto’s outstretched hand. He takes the soap with a brush of their fingers, come to find out that touching is a dozen times more intense when their skin is wet. Moving right along from that revelation, Haru bows his head into the sink to wash his hair while Makoto shaves. It seems as though he’s become an expert at shaving with a knife rather than a razor, his motions infinitely careful as he swipes the blade this way and that across his chin, using some sort of gel-slime Asahi made for such a task. The situation is domestic and surreal in equal parts. Dirt-rings stain the sink when Haru’s finished, but he can’t even describe how heavenly it feels to have clean hair. Even his head feels lighter. He feels the weight of a gaze and Haru glances at Makoto, who blushes as he turns back to his own mirror. He clears his throat while rubbing a towel across the back of his neck. “Your hair is darker than I thought it’d be.” Haru doesn’t know what to say to that or why it makes his stomach spin. “What color did you think it was?” Makoto shrugs with a sheepish grin. “Brown, maybe. I mean, I assumed it was dark, but – it’s black. Really black, like, almost blue.” He’s just making a statement, it’s nowhere near a compliment, but Haru still ducks his head to smile. “Thanks?” “It’s – you’re really pretty.” His face flashes hot. Slowly, he turns to face Makoto, but he realizes in that moment with thickening air and pulsing tension that he doesn’t have to say anything. He never knew words could be carried through gazes alone, but Makoto’s staring at him and saying everything he doesn’t have the courage to voice. Haru lifts his chin, feeling absurdly pleased with himself for some reason. His gaze drifts to the ink peeking from the inside of Makoto’s bicep and Makoto follows his gaze. “They’re sparrows.” He spreads his arm and turns it over as Haru steps closer to see. Sure enough, it’s two birds perched on twigs, their beaks turned upward to the heavens, eyes round with innocence. Haru finds himself reaching out like a flower stretching toward sunlight. He smoothes his thumb over the ink before he can stop himself, but he likes how warm and firm Makoto’s skin is, likes how he can feel the steadiness of his muscles underneath, so he keeps it there. “Do they mean anything?” Why, why, why does he care? Why does he ache to know? Makoto’s eyes fall half-lidded with a nostalgic smile. “One for each of my siblings. They were twins.” “What about the tattoo on your leg?” “Which one?” Now there’s a discovery Haru just might not be too lazy to make, but he refrains. At least for now. Makoto crooks a grin. “The one on my thigh?” At Haru’s nod, he says, “I, um – kind of adopted this weird philosophy after the world ended. When things used to scare me, I wouldn’t even acknowledge them and that made it harder to face them when I didn’t have a choice.” He shrugs as he looks down at himself, all the roving ink across the dips and grooves of him. “So I… came up with this idea to make myself see everything I was scared of before I actually had to go through it. Kind of like, looking at everything at a distance even though it’s right there, on me.” He ducks his head with another handsome, bashful laugh. “Sorry, it sounds so weird saying it out loud.” “It’s not weird,” Haru says, voice soft in the warmth between them. He arches a brow at Makoto’s hesitant hopefulness, quoting his very words: “We’re all dealing with this differently.” Redness seeps down Makoto’s throat as he mumbles, “The one on my thigh, it’s – it’s like an ocean in the bottle.” “You’re scared of water?” That’s – awful. “It’s just the ocean that makes me kind of nervous.” His smile turns self-deprecating. “Even now, after all of this.” Haru’s brows crease with a reassuring hum and a shake of his head. He might not understand Makoto’s fear but it’s not his place to, either. He should probably stop touching him now, it’s getting to a point that’s beyond polite curiosity, but the concept of boundaries is distorted in today’s world – either the walls are up and never coming down or people are hungry in more ways than one: starved for human contact and the emotion a touch can have. Makoto looks like he needs to be touched. So Haru taps at the tattoo sleeve of Makoto’s right arm. “What about all of this?” Makoto points to the line-art of an open clamshell with a pearl inside. “That’s for Kisumi. You know, since he wears that string of pearls.” He moves to the blood-red silhouette of a flying cardinal. “Asahi.” He flips his arm over to show the inside of his forearm and smiles at the tiny handprint. “Tsukushi. That’s actually his real handprint; he accidently got into the ink when he was just learning how to crawl, so me, Asahi and Kisumi put the print on some newspaper and traced it for tattoos. Their tattoos are over their hearts.” Haru’s eyes widen. “You got all of these after the zombies came?” Makoto chuckles with a nod. “Yeah.” He sweeps a hand over the ink fondly. “Asahi does them, though. I think art helps him.”   Haru’s brows scrunch then lift. “So these are… people you’re afraid of losing?” “Yes. And – and people I’ve already lost.” He glances at the twin birds on his bicep. Haru flattens his palm against Makoto’s naked chest, making his pec flinch. He studies the ink over his heart, the circular wind of ink with dial hands aimed north. “A compass?” Makoto parts his lips but doesn’t speak for a moment; the mere sensation of Haru’s hand leaves him speechless before he finds his voice. “My dad had one. I’m scared of getting lost by myself.” Being alone. Fingertips glide up Haru’s sleeve to the tattered cuff at his wrist. The space between them feels hotter, tighter; the walls are closing in like an embrace that he doesn’t know how to accept. “Sorry,” Haru whispers, but his hand is pinned to Makoto’s skin. He’s magnetized to him, palm drinking in a warmth that’s so much different than sunlight. Makoto watches him as he places his hand over Haru’s. In the pulsing silence, the drip of water from the sink is heavy and amplified; a droplet rolls down Makoto’s temple and melts into the tiles below. The rasp of his fingers has tingles swarming the back of Haru’s neck, but Makoto notices the hesitancy in Haru’s eyes and whispers, “I’m so sorry you’re afraid of people.” His sincerity alarms Haru, but the sharp shock quickly fades into something very warm and loud in his ears. “But I hope you know that I’ll protect you as long as you’re here.” He crooks a smile. “Even though you’ve kept me safe more than I have you.” Haru reels but his voice is just a lost whisper. “Why?” Why would you even want to protect me? Makoto is not impassioned, nor is he looking at him with the weight of an uncomfortably intense and sudden confession. His words are entirely simple. “Because I want you to be safe. And happy.” That alone is enough to make Haru’s eyes sting. With a careful breath, Makoto laces their fingers together over his heart and Haru is so fucking confused at how anyone could share such kindness like it isn’t the rarest thing in the world. Bitterness leaves his insides cold because the softest touches hurt the worst these days; feeling the grooves of Makoto’s knuckles is a sensation more powerful than the deepest of hunger pains. Every time Makoto’s patched him up these last few days, Haru hasn’t been able to stop remembering what it was like to have Makoto’s hands on him. Physical contact is a biological demand that all of them have. Even him, even after being afraid of it for so long. Touching is a need as much as food and water; it’s a requirement his body and the last remnants of his soul are screaming for in this moment.

[anxious-vigil]

Misunderstandings (Pt 5/5)

Summary: Virgil needs someone to help him through panic attacks, and Logan seems to be the perfect solution. However when he approaches the other side, assumptions are made and soon he’s left alone and confused, trying to track down Logic just to ask him where things went wrong. Romantic identity angst fic with like a paragraph of crack at the very end. I’ve since realised it’s also heavily inspired by Platonic by @randomslasher so you should go read that as well if you haven’t already. On Ao3 here

Trigger warnings: Graphic descriptions of panic attacks, mentions of self harm, discussions of sexual/romantic identity, some aro-phobic language, lots of arguing and self-deprecation

Pairings: Analogical, background Royality

Chapter 5

Anxiety sits on top of his desk, face pressed against the glass of his window. He doesn't know how long he's been there but he's seen the sun rise and his legs are stiff. A bird with a forked tail flits across his vision. It's deathly quiet, so he can clearly hear slow steps approaching his room accompanied by the clinking of plates. Nowadays Patton tends to bring him breakfast if he misses it so when the knock comes, he waves a hand to click the lock open. “Just... leave it on the bed or something, Pat.” he whispers hoarsely. Crying and yelling have both taken their toll on his voice and he doesn't want to talk anymore than he has to. A soft thud signals the tray being set down and the door shuts gently. He sighs, hating that Pat has to step out of his way like this, he knows how much he makes the older trait worry.

Logan shuts the door and turns to study Virgil carefully. The skin beneath his eyes is badly bruised, his wounds are clearly untreated and he's wearing his old hoodie like a physical weight. He doesn't look like he's moved from his solitary position anytime recently. It nowhere resembles a good situation. Logan clears his throat and Virgil jumps, turning to look at him with wide, frightened eyes and a complexion that shouldn't be naturally grey. He lowers himself slowly to sit cross-legged on the floor as if taming a spooked animal. The logical facet sighs, knowing the only place to start repairing this relationship was at the beginning, difficult as it may be for him.

“Five years ago,” he starts carefully, tracking Virgil's expressions, “Patton and Roman decided they wanted to try being in a romantic relationship.” He sees understanding bloom in Virgil's eyes but he's going to tell this story in all it's sordid details. There will be no more misunderstandings through his fault if he can help it. “At the time, they were also both attracted to me and so decided a triad would be best for everyone involved. I was confused by the whole notion of romantic attraction and told them so. I attempted to inform them of an identity I'd found through research, aromanticism and explained I thought it fitted me and so would prefer not to join them on their venture into the unknown. They didn't really understand, and felt rejected.

As I was not yet sure in myself and did not want to damage their feelings, they managed to persuade me that I needed to try out a romantic relationship rather than dismiss it out of hand. It seemed... logical to explore before settling on a label, and yet, it didn't feel right, but I decided to go along with the others, thinking my emotions were irrational. Those 89 days...,” he pauses, searching for words, “...weren't... good? Patton and Roman were perfect gentlemen but I couldn't seem to be happy. I didn't understand either the grand gestures or the quiet signals and so couldn't reciprocate. Whenever I tried to, to make them happy, it tended to fall flat in a way I couldn't comprehend. According to Roman, it was missing a 'special spark'.” he laughs. “Whatever that is. When they tried to include me on dates, I felt uncomfortable and out of place. I... I hated it.” Anxiety watches him with quiet dismay in his eyes, he's never seen the logical side so emotional. “It came to a head when Patton and Roman decided it was time to add a sexual nature to the relationship. I'd been letting their expertise lead until that point but the idea of sex repulsed me and by then I'd realised it wasn't sustainable to force myself to be someone I wasn't, in pursuit of something I didn't even want, all to try not to upset them.”

He's stopped watching Virgil's reactions now, too caught up in memories. “I left the relationship. They found it difficult to comprehend my reasoning and for a time assumed I didn't enjoy their company at all. I confronted them 27 days after leaving and managed to partially restore our platonic bond. Although they still struggle, they do their best to be supportive. Well... they did.” He blinks back tears. “Please understand I'm not trying to pass off blame, I am entirely without excuse, but I would like to explain. When they saw you trying to cultivate a friendship with me, they assumed a romantic attraction. They presumed you would 'fix' me and our team of four would become two couples. You came to ask me star-gazing the day after Patton gave me the 'shovel talk'.” He looks up to see Virgil sitting cross-legged a few feet away. “Is that the correct usage?” Logan receives a slow nod and takes it as permission to push forward with his side of the story.

“With Patton and Roman telling me you were interested and my lack of understanding on the subject, I assumed they were correct.” He huffs a breath of frustration, removing his glasses to scrub at his eyes. “Stupid, I know, given they'd gotten me completely wrong, to trust their judgement but hindsight really is 20:20, I guess.” A pale hand settles on his. “When you came to me, I'd been stressing over how to break the news to you. I thought I'd done well but you kept coming back and I was terrified of another situation where if I gave an inch, I'd end up trapped because they... you didn't- wouldn't... because you wouldn't understand my needs as much as I didn't understand yours. So I ran and I hid and I was a coward.” Self-loathing shines through his voice and the hand tightens it's grip on his.

“I should have done better by you Virgil, especially given I know what it feels like to have someone get it so completely wrong. I... I want to do better by you, find out what you need as a person, to be the one you come to for comfort, to understand you. The others place so much stock in romantic bonds, I'd...oh.” his eyes blow wide in realisation. “I'd forgotten what platonic attraction felt like.” He says slowly. He feels understanding hit him like a physical blow as he reanalyses his own thoughts and actions over the past years, seeing himself drift away from Patton and Roman, uncomfortable with their excessive affection. “I've been... lonely.” He blinks and watches a tear land on their clasped hands. “I want to be your friend.” Logan whispers. “I don't know if you can ever trust me again. I know it's not the logical choice given how I acted, and I know I landed a lot of information on you just now, pity or some sort of sense of duty isn't exactly the best place to start any relationship, and we're both suffering from some trauma, rationally you should-” Hands cup his face and he looks up into Virgil's half-smile.

“Anxiety isn't rational and if you're willing to put in the work, I am too.” The other half of his smile pulls up. “Can I have my hug now?” Logan pulls him forward desperately, landing Virgil in his lap, wrapping his arms around as much of the other as he can. Neither sides says anything about the sobs that shake them both as they drink in each others presence. They don't talk until they've managed to rearrange into a more comfortable position some time later, Logan leaning against the door, Virgil sideways in his lap, leaning on his chest and listening to his heartbeat. “What now?” Virgil murmurs. “I'd like to clean your wounds, and you should eat something, and then-” “No, uh, I mean, us?” Logan frowned in thought. “Well, I'd want to start of as friends first, as in any good partnership, but eventually, I mean, I'm friends with Patton, but with you, the label...” “It's not quite right.” “Yes, exactly. Already, you're not just a friend to me. I'd like a word that fully encompasses how important you are to me.” He blushes and leans in to kiss the top of Virgil's head to hide his face but sees the clotted blood and rests his hand there instead, frowning slightly. “Queer-platonic.” Virgil blurts quickly, like it's a plaster he needs to rip off. “Could you repeat that, please?” “Uh, queer-platonic. I, um, found it when I was googling aromanticism on tumblr-” “Googling... on tumblr?” “Shut up.” “Ok, but I'm judging you.” Virgil snickers. “Whatever. It's different things to different people, some kiss, some don't, some have sex, some don't, some are open, some aren't, but basically it's saying this is my life partner in whatever way we choose, and it's special without being romantic. Uh, could we... , um, could that be...our label?” Virgil's nervousness is at once both endearing and a reminder to treat him carefully. Logan strokes over Virgil's cheekbone. “It sounds perfect. We can choose what we want it to be when we get there.” Virgil smiles tiredly, his expression so much more open than usual. “Lookin' forward to it.”

(Some time later)

“Where's your first aid kit?” “Above the sink in the bathroom, through that door.... Logan, what's this?” “That's your breakfast, is it not obvious?” “Darling, precisely none of these are breakfast foods.” “It should not matter what food you eat at what time so long as it has the right balance of nutrients.” “I'm kind of scared to ask what you had for your breakfast.” “Leftover pasta with kale and I added strawberry yoghurt for dairy.” “Not all at...?” “It doesn't matter how in enters your body, Virgil. It all gets mixed up with hydrochloric acid anyway.” “Eww. No kissing. I've decided, kissing is off the table. I'm not going near a mouth that's had yoghurt and kale in it at the same time.” “Humph. I have found the antiseptic wipes, pass me your arm.” “So, go on, explain my breakfast to me, oh cleverest one.” “Well, you have a yoghurt for dairy and broccoli for vitamins-” “Raw.” “Cooking drains the vitamins, stop squirming.” “It stings.” “You are what I believe Roman would call an 'edge-lord', I'm sure you can handle it. There is a ham and egg sandwich for protein and carbohydrates.” “Ok, but I'm sure the leftover pizza doesn't fit into a well-balanced meal.” “It's your favourite.” “Aw, you risked Patton's wrath to seize the forbidden pizza for me. You do love me.” “Yes, that is an accurate statement.” “Stop it, you'll make me blush and I don't have my foundation on. Wait.... is that.... an entire cucumber?” “Ah, yes, that's your drink.” “....” “I, uh, can't figure out Roman's fancy coffee machine and we've run out of juice.” “Water, Logan, water. Or even tea, I guess.” “I was stressed and I panicked.” “And grabbed a cucumber?” “It's 96% water?” “I thought you were logical!” “I am the literal personification of Logic! However I will admit I am not always entirely rational. Come into the light, I want to do your face next.” “Hang on, I'm thirsty.” Virgil snagged the cucumber with his now clean left arm and wandered after his favourite person, making a show of snapping off the end and gnawing at the flesh.

AN: The fandom: Logan eats books

Me: oh, you haven’t heard?

[welovekpopscenarios]

Coincidence Pt. 3 (Jimin x Reader)

Admin: Mimi

Description: After your break up with Jimin, you do your best to try to move on from him. Emphasis on ‘try’. It is kind of hard to move on when you have to see him nearly every day. After all, he is your professor.

Fandom: BTS

Genre: Angst, fluff

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Warnings: language, slight anxiety/discomfort

Word Count: 5318

Authors Note: This is the final part of Coincidence! My first series! (Well, mini-series, I guess, but I hadn’t even planned on making it a series, everyone asked for more parts and I gave in lmao) But yes, it’s been a fun ride :’) I hope everyone enjoys this part, and happy reading as always.

 - PART 1 -

 - PART 2 -

 - BONUS -

If you had thought that first class when Jimin walked in and introduced himself as your professor was awkward as hell, then the following weeks after your break up made you want to dig a hole on the spot and bury yourself so deep, you’d never see the light of day again. And you’d be perfectly okay with that. Because every time you stepped foot into that classroom, you felt more and more miserable with each passing second you had to look at his face.

Though you tried to ignore it, Jimin, you thought, looked just as bad as you did, if not worse. He rarely smiled, if he ever did to begin with, and his clothes, once immaculate and pristine, were now dishevelled, his hair rough from running his fingers through it one too many times. You knew he’d stare at you whenever he could during the lecture, your friend told you as much, and you did the same whenever he wasn’t gazing in your direction, staring longingly and the man who gave you so much happiness in the few precious weeks you had together before it all came crashing down. But of course it would. It had to. You didn’t want to jeopardise Jimin’s career; he had told you how much his job meant to him, you couldn’t bare being the one to ruin that for him.

It broke your heart every time you entered the class and had to watch as he tried to teach in a professional manner. Often (too often), after meeting his eyes briefly, where you would immediately cast yours to your notebook, you would hear his voice crack the slightest, and each crack sent one through your own heart. A heart that, you were sure, was barely holding together. On occasion, especially during the first week or two after the split, he’d excuse himself from the classroom for a moment and leave in a haste, face hidden behind his dark locks. You’d heard from a student who passed by him after returning from the bathroom that he was crying, absolutely bawling his eyes out in an alcove in the wall, and that only served to make you feel even more guilt ridden and disgusted with yourself.

It felt like you couldn’t breathe properly anymore, that you were drowning and no matter how much you pushed your mind to float for air, no matter how many times your lungs heaved, you could never get the air you required into your lungs, into your brain, into your heart. Is this what heartbreak felt like? You thought you had experienced it before – young love ending too fast for your liking, crying tears for hours after the text came through ‘I’m sorry, it just isn’t working out :(‘ , and you had thought that was one of the worst times in your life. But now you’re older, wiser, and you realise that this feeling, this incredibly dull, lifeless feeling in your chest, the sickly twists of your stomach that reeled in guilt and bitterness, butterflies that once were cheerful now wilting and dying, you realise that this is heartbreak. An unbearable pain that will not go away; no amount of distractions or talking or crying can cure it. A hole you were stuck in, unable to climb out of, too tired to even try to.

The only other emotion than sorrow you were capable of feeling was jealousy and hatred, and that was directed only towards Jang-mi. It wrapped around you like a venomous snake, coiling around your gut until that was the only thing you could focus your attention on. You know, deep down, it’s not right to hate her. She had just opened your eyes to the situation you tried so desperately not to think about. But it’s hard not to hate her, when she has the audacity to flirt openly with Jimin in class and smile sweetly at you like she always does. Luckily for your fragile heart, Jimin took as much interest in her as one would in watching paint dry, brushing off her attempts at seducing him with an irritated look and blatant indifference towards her being, and you can’t stop the sick satisfaction that floods through your body and the miniscule twisted smirk when she walks away from him with an irked frown. His eyes flicker towards yours when she moves away, filled with worry, but you can’t return the stare for longer than two seconds, ducking your head and turning towards your friend who furrows her brows and tuts at your behaviour.

To pile on to the heavy weight of guilt on your back, your friend has been your rock throughout the tears and pain, and you don’t know how you could ever repay her. You can tell that your depressing form is taking a toll on her patience, but she’s too stubborn to ever leave you alone, refusing to leave you in need no matter how aggravating your crying and whining and wailing might become. You’d even taken to calling her your angel, and for some reason the nickname stuck. It’s a name she seems to wear proudly, and serves as a reminder for how much she tries to make you feel like you were once before.

If that ever happens.

She’s tried everything to aid your heartbreak; bucket loads of ice cream and a very wet shoulder, ears near bleeding from your screaming, forcing you to shower and take care of yourself, to eat when you need to. She even tried getting you to do new hobbies ‘knitting is the new thing, I swear!’, but nothing worked. You didn’t want a new hobby, or food, or anything.

All you wanted was Jimin.

And he was so, so close.

But unbearably out of reach.

It was almost ironic how you seemed to find yourself in the same position as that fateful day you first became acquainted with Jimin.

“It’ll be good for you, I promise,” your friend pleaded, in almost the same manner as you remember the first time; your hands clutched in her own as she nearly bent the knee.

“I don’t see how going back to that pub can help me in any way,” you retorted, pulling your hands out of her hold to cross your arms defensively over your chest as you stared blankly at the TV. Just some rerun of an old show, forgotten as the years past. Oh look, the protagonist is madly in love with the boy, but they can’t be together because he’s moving away. Far, far away. Huh. Funny.

“Y/N, please. You’re right back at square one; you’re not going out, you’re not interested in anything, you’re not taking care of yourself,” she sighs, pursing her lips as she kept her eyes on her knees. “At least last time you weren’t depressed because of some gu-“

She quickly shut up when you shot her a deathly glare, eyes slightly bloodshot and nose beginning to sting with a fresh bout of tears. Dammit. You were on a roll with only crying twice today.

Sniffling, you rubbed you nose harshly and returned your attention to the TV, not fully taking in the story of the show. That was the end of the conversation. She knew where you drew the line.

Or, at least, she did.

“Well, I’m not wrong, am I?” she questioned but you kept quiet. “This Friday you’re going out with me again. I’m not taking no for an answer” she quipped when she saw your mouth drop open to reject her. “I just want you to come out and have fun. You aren’t yourself anymore, and to be honest, it scares me a little. I’ve never known you to be this hung up over a breakup, and I’m sick of seeing you cry. Just one night; a night of drinking, laughs, the lot. Please. If you don’t like it, I won’t force you again. But please, just try. For me? I want my best friend back,” she confessed, and you gave pause.

You really weren’t yourself anymore, just a sad shell of your former self. Even if your ‘former self’ was somewhat quiet and introverted, at least you didn’t spend your days bawling your eyes out and drowning in thoughts of what could have been. There were no ‘ifs’ or ‘buts’ about a guy back then. You were just you: a college student trying get through your course with as little struggle as possible and aim for a great career once you were finished with it all.

But if you went out, to the bar where it all began, how could you stop yourself from breaking down? How could you stop the onslaught of tears in a crowded bar, with what would feel like millions of eyes on you, adding to your embarrassment? You already feel like you’re suffocating, you don’t need to make it worse. Her intentions may be good, but you aren’t taking the risk.

“I don’t think I could do that, angel,” you whispered hoarsely. Clearing your throat, you spoke again. “I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

Your friend groaned and took your hands once again.

“And when are you going to be ready, Y/N? It’s been weeks already!” she snapped, but when she saw you wince at her harsh tone, she quietened down and apologised. “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. And I know you’re hurting. But don’t you at least want to try? To do something other than mope?”

You took a deep breath. “I just…I don’t know if it’s a good idea. I don’t want to be in a crowd.”

“You’ll be sitting beside me all night. I won’t leave your side. We’ll even go home early, and you can stay at my house! We’ll watch old kids movies together. C’mon,” she smiled hopefully. “Please? I just want to see my best friend smile again.”

You stared at her for a moment, tonguing your cheek. Admittedly, you were sick of the state you were in. You just needed a push in the right direction. Angel was trying to do that for you, but you’ve been neglecting her nudges. Maybe she was right. Maybe you do need a break. Even if it is back at that bar. A change of scenery couldn’t hurt. Anything other than the gloom and emptiness of your apartment, or the doom you get when seeing your college in your line of sight.

You nodded your head the slightest, swallowing back any complaints crawling their way out of your mouth, and listened as you friend squealed and jumped up and down in her spot on the couch.

“Yay, I’m so happy! This will be good for you, I promise! I’m gonna dress you up and everyth-“

“No,” you interrupted quickly, meeting her confused expression. “I don’t want to dress up. At least, not a lot,” you explained. “I’ll get ready myself. I won’t look a mess, I swear.”

She nodded her head in agreement, and held your face in her palms, squishing your cheeks and shaking your head slightly.

“I’m so glad,” she beams. “I only want the best for you, Y/N, even if I seem mean at times, I don’t mean it and I only ever want you to be happy. You deserve only the best things in life.”

You wanted to say you had the best thing in your life but you had to let him go, but kept your mouth shut.

Instead, you attempted a weak smile, one your friend seemed satisfied with. She dragged you in for a hug and you hid your face in her shoulder.

“I’m really grateful for everything you’ve done for me,” you mumbled. “Thank you, my angel.”

She chuckled, rubbing your back comfortingly, something she’s done too many times lately.

“It’s nothing, Y/N, it’s what friends do.”

To say you had some regrets about coming back to the pub with your friend, would probably be the understatement of the year.

You had gotten ready and made yourself somewhat presentable than you’ve looked for the past few weeks; opting for comfortable yet stylish clothes – nothing crazy like the dress your friend had put on you when she helped you that one night. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was all you could bear to be in right now. Quite frankly, you didn’t even feel at home in your own skin, feeling like an empty body rather than a person, but you do what you can.

Now, however, sitting in the crowded bar (it was always packed with people, it seemed), all you wanted to do was crawl under your covers and hide. The noise in the room pierced through your brain and you could feel a headache coming along as a result. The hustle and bustle of the people – some drunk, some sober – caused anxiety to spike through you at every bump of a shoulder. Sat at a table with your friend in the corner, your mind was elsewhere than on her conversation, only managing a few faint mumbles as replies.

You really regretted coming here, the suffocating feeling you’ve been experiencing only heightening as the hours passed – hours that felt like years instead. Looking down at your hands, you were almost surprised at how they were starting to shake, and wondered what the cause was until you felt that familiar stinging at your eyes when you caught sight of the seat you sat at when you met Jimin.

You tugged on your friends sleeve, drawing her attention away from the few drunken fools attempting to sing ‘Hotline Bling’ on the karaoke machine.

“I’m need some air, I’ll be back in a minute,” you informed her.

“Oh shit, ok sure. I’ll come with you,” she offered but you put a hand on her shoulder to push her gently back into her seated position.

“No...I just…I need some air. I need to be alone,” you explained quietly, and she gave you a sad smile. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, I dragged you here. Take as much time as you need, stay safe. I’ll be right here,” she replied serenely, and with that, you began to make your way through the throng of bodies to the front doors. You weaved and bobbed, squeezing through the crowd and apologising for making some stumble, until you were home free, breathing in the sweet fresh air a Friday night could bring.

You took a few gulps of air into your lungs, leaning your weight against the side of building just a bit away from the doors, feeling somewhat better for the quiet and peace. You took this time to calm yourself down, getting a grip on yourself and the situation, if at all possible.

Well, you tried to, but fate was a bitch, and always liked to mess around with you.

“Hey, you ok there, girly?”

The deep voice came from your right, and your heart stopped beating momentarily before resuming, this time in a more erratic manner. You looked up and saw a tall man, wobbling towards you with a hand steadying himself on the concrete wall, moving until he was standing too close for your liking and invading your personal space. You cleared your throat and took a step back, crossing your arms and keeping your eyes on your shoes.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks,” you muttered, and hoped he’d move away at that, but you were just being foolishly hopeful. He plonked his free hand on your shoulder, making you jump, and inclined his head near yours, filling your nostrils with the foul stench of piss poor beer and cigarettes. You wrinkled your nose in distaste and moved to get away, but his iron clad grip on your shoulder held you in place.

“You ain’t looking too great, babe. I think you need someone to look after you,” he slurred, grinning toothily at his proposition and sliding the hand on your shoulder around your neck and bringing you in for what looked like a side hug. You craned you neck away as far as you could and pushed subtly at his chest.

“I’m ok, I have a friend with me,” you told him, but he shook his head, faux concern washing over his ugly face.

“I don’t see any friend around here, sugar. Must be shit friends you made if they’d leave you all alone like this,” he tutted, tongue flicking out to wet his chapped lips as his lids lowered.

Anger flared through you at his remark, and your face scrunched up in fury.

“She’s not a ‘shit’ friend, don’t you dare say that when you don’t even know her,” you snarled, pushing against his chest with more force, but his grip tightened, and you stumbled when he did.

“Woah,” he laughed mockingly at you, “you’re a feisty one. But you’re sick, remember?” A finger rubbed at your cheek with a yellowed nail, and he leaned down to whisper in your ear, hot breath making you nearly gag. “I should take care of you, so come home with me. I’ll make sure you feel a whole lot better, princess.”

Your eyes widened at his insinuation, and you fought to escape his grip even more, but it was like his arm was a chain, locking you and tightening with every move you made.

“No!” you barked, and tears of frustration began to cloud your vision. “I’m not going anywhere with you!”

The man’s smirk faded into a dark look, and you felt his nails dig crescents into the skin of your arm.

“Now, that wasn’t nice, sweetheart. Apologise, and I’ll treat you nicely when we get home, even if you don’t deserve it,” he warned, and you gulped, ready to scream before a third voice broke through your interaction.

“I believe she said she wasn’t going home with you.”

Your head turned to the new voice, and your heart skipped a beat. There stood Jimin, a look of absolute thunder on his face as he stared the man down, eyes flickering between the man’s face and his hand around you. His gaze softened when it finally fell on you, and you felt like screaming, because a look that soft on Jimin should not be directed at you after what you did to him.

Your silent moment was interrupted by the man’s horrible laugh penetrating the silence, forcing his weight on you as he blinked at Jimin.

“Who are you, midget?” the man insulted, and Jimin rolled his eyes.

“I’m her friend,” he answered smoothly, and you tried to ignore the pang of pain you felt at the word ‘friend’.

“Some friend you are, leaving a pretty thing like her all on her lonesome outside,” he teased, frowning in confusion soon afterwards. “Wait, I thought you said it was a she?

“She’s with me. Now get away from her, and leave us alone,” Jimin sneered, his fists clenching by his sides when the man pinched roughly at your cheek and you gave a yelp of pain.

“I don’t think so, shrimp. She wants to come home with me, don’t you sweetie? So, why don’t you run off with your lil leg- ow, fuck! You little bitch!” he yelled, because in a split second decision, you moved your mouth to bite at the fingers pinching your cheeks.

When he let go you to inspect that damage done to his fingers, you took the opportunity to run away from him and headed towards Jimin without a moment’s hesitation. He gathered you into his arms and held you tight, and it almost made you laugh at how the first bit of contact you’ve had with Jimin in weeks made you feel as if the world was right once again.

You buried your face in his chest and listened as he whispered sweet reassurances in your ear, fingers undoing knots in your hair and holding you close, and you felt the best you’ve ever felt since you left. You inhaled his scent, a smell so distinctly Jimin, and almost wept with relief. He was here, holding you, and he got you out of a potentially dangerous situation. He protected you, like he used to promise you he always would.

The reunion was short lived, as the man started to splutter curses at the both of you, spittle flying out of his mouth as his face turned an embarrassing shade of red.

“Next time you’re out, don’t use semen as hair gel, buddy,” Jimin quipped, and you barked out a shocked laugh into his chest. The guy looked ready to kill, but before he could lunge at Jimin or yourself, a group of guys rushed up to him and held him back, one of them explaining he was friends with the man and apologising for his behaviour. Jimin replied something along then lines of ‘make sure he doesn’t creep on girls again’, and then he’s leading you away, still clinging to you and shielding you from the world.

You don’t talk at all during the walk to his car, but you find your voice just before you get in.

“Uhm…my friend is…she’s…she’s waiting for me in the bar,” you stuttered, wringing your hands together and keeping your eyes trained on your shoes. Jimin gave a silent sigh, opening the door to his car and sitting down.

“I understand if you want to go back to her…but I don’t think it’s best for you to stay in the bar. At least, it didn’t look like you were having the best time. You look like you just want to go home. And you probably should, after what happened.”

You paused, absorbing his words.

“H-how did you know I wasn’t enjoying myself?�� you questioned, and his eyes grew in size, a blush dusting his cheeks a light pink. He scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck.

“I-uh, I just…I mean, I was in the bar-and I saw you…and you looked really sad, like you do lately, and I uhm, I just figured, you know,” he ended weakly, avoiding your questioning stare and instead fiddling with the buttons on the dashboard of his car.

“So you were watching me,” you concluded, and Jimin winced. “…Why didn’t you come over and talk to me?”

His head flickered to gape at you, biting his lip in nervousness.

“I was…I was too scared to,” he admitted, pulling at the skin of his lip. “Plus, I didn’t think you’d want to talk to me. You know, after…” he trailed off, gesturing his hands in a general motion, sighing and dropping them dejectedly in his lap. It absolutely tore you to pieces, seeing him this way. He doesn’t deserve it. This was the first bit of closure the two of you were getting since that fateful day, and you weren’t passing it up. Your heart wouldn’t let you.

Sighing shakily, you brought your phone from its place in your pocket and sent a quick text to your friend:

‘Hey, I’m sorry but I have to go. I’m not at the bar anymore. Jimin picked me up. Something happened. I’m sorry, I’ll explain everything tomorrow’

Not even a few seconds later, you received a reply.

‘Someone told me about a commotion outside, and I figured it was you. At least he got you. I’m sorry that happened to you, and that I brought you here. I hope he takes care of you. Stay safe 😉’

Pocketing your phone, you look up to see Jimin watching you with careful eyes, averting them quickly when yours aligned with his. Toying with the ends of your shirt, you took a breath before sitting in the car with him, closing the door behind you softly. You twiddled your thumbs, sitting silently in the passenger seat for a few moments. Jimin didn’t push you to say anything, and you didn’t push him. You let the comfort that only Jimin could bring invade your senses, and you nearly deflated in your seat, his presence a welcome respite from the weeks of distance you tried to maintain.

“Take me home please, Jimin,” you breathed, eyes shut. You heard the car starting up, the soft rumble of the car filling the silence between the both of you, and then you felt a presence above you. You opened your eyes to see Jimin leaning over you, your breath hitching in your throat when he made eye contact with you in such close proximity. He was still for a few seconds, just as you were, just staring at you with an unreadable expression, before snapping out of whatever trance he was in and pulling the seatbelt around you like he had intended, returning to his place at the wheel after buckling you in. Right. Seatbelt. Safety first.

Just like the first time he drove you home, the ride was quiet; weak attempts at small talk here and there until you both gave up, too awkward to say anything. And you didn’t know what you could say to him. And you spent so long going over things you could say to him in your mind, you didn’t even realise he had just pulled up outside your apartment far too quickly for your liking.

He shut off the engine, and again the car was plunged in silence, neither of you moving an inch, and just simply…sitting. His lips parted a few times, as if to say something, but nothing ever came up, and instead he sighed irritably and sagged his shoulders.

“Thank you for bringing me home, Jimin,” you said, but before you could make a move and put your hand on the door handle, Jimin’s own hand shot out to hold the wrist closest to him.

“Wait,” he blurted. You looked at him, shocked, and he looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “I…I want…I want t-to talk,” he stuttered, biting his plush lip and worrying it. You lowered your hand from the door to your lap, subtly rubbing your palm against your thigh.

“Ok,” you nodded. “Let’s talk.”

The corner of his lips turned up briefly, his lower lip breaking free from his teeth. He looked down at his hand, realising how he was holding you, and released you quickly, muttering an apology but subconsciously your hand gripped his tight, not ready to let go yet. His face lit up in joy, and he manoeuvred his grasp to interlock your fingers, puzzle pieces finally slotting together as they should. You heart jumped at the move, and you felt heat crawling up the back of your neck.

He gathered courage to stare you dead in the eye, and you virtually got sucked into the black pits of his beautiful eyes, those eyes you wanted to wake up next to so dearly. He took a deep breath.

“I miss you,” he confessed, and he physically slumped at the admission, looking so tired and worn than you’ve ever seen him. “I miss you so fucking much, and I hate not being near you, or seeing you so sad, not being able to hold you, or protect you, and I love you so much,” his voice cracked at the end, and he cleared his throat, blinking back tears that were forming in his eyes. You could feel his sorrow crashing over you like waves on a shore now that you were sitting next to him, and you nearly puked with guilt. You caused this. You caused this pain. But you don’t forget the reason why.

“I miss you too,” you echoed, voice as shaky as a leaf in the wind. “And I love you, so much. You don’t understand how much I love you, Jimin. Only you,” you sniffed, nose gone stuffy, emotions welling up inside of you, waiting to spill over. “But I can’t get in the way of your career,” you said as sternly as you could. It’s hard to put up a hard front when you can feel the tears in your eyes.

He furrowed his brows and gripped your hand tighter.

“No, no, no. You won’t, we’ll be fine. Everything is ok, I just want you to come back to me, please. No one can stop us,” he rambled, but you cut him off.

“Jimin, I know what kind of college I go to. It’s not going to allow a professor to date a student, even with our ages. If word gets out that you dated a student, and got fired for it, it would ruin your reputation. You wouldn’t find another job, at least for a good while. And I’ll be damned if I let that happen.”

“But…but I love you,” you muttered weakly. “I don’t care what they think. Let them think what they want. They can fire me if they want. They can’t stop us,” he said stubbornly.

“Jimin,” you sighed sadly, the tears in your eyes finally trailing down your cheeks, and Jimin didn’t hesitate to wipe them away softly. “You know as well as I do that that’s not true. They can damage your reputation. I’m not letting you waste your hard work and dreams. Even if I love you with all my heart,” he whimpered at that, “I care about you too much to see you run into the ground because of me.”

Jimin shook his head, ready to argue more but all that he could manage was a croak before he too was crying. You held his face in your palms, crying along with him, touching your forehead to his as he pressed his hands against yours, keeping them in place.

You both bawled in the sanctuary of his car, some old radio station playing lost love songs quietly, drowned out from the sobs emitting from your chests.

He moved his hands from above yours to the back of your neck, and dragged you in for a searing kiss; lips you hadn’t tasted for a while but not forgotten the taste of, you never could. The saltiness of your tears mingled with your mouths, a bittersweet addition to a kiss you’ve sought after for so long. Your head was clouded by everything Jimin – his taste, his smell, his touch, his heart. For once since your breakup, you felt like you could breathe easily. Ironic, considering you were losing your oxygen from attempting to stay connected to Jimin for as long as possible.

Jimin broke away first, gasping for air, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before he said:

“I’ll wait.”

You blinked, dumbfounded.

“What?”

Jimin laughed lightly and wobbly, tracing the features of your face with the pads of his fingers, as if marking, memorising, every detail you had. Keeping those details locked away in his heart.

“I’ll wait. Until summer, when you’re on break. Ms Abbot will be back when college starts up again, so I’ll technically be out of a job. And not working in the college anymore. They can’t say anything then, because I’m not a member of staff. So I’ll wait for you. If you’ll allow me to.”

“Jimin…” you were astounded. And quite frankly, you felt stupid for not thinking about that. “Jimin that’s still a few months away.”

“I don’t care. I’ll wait as long as I have to. If it means having you as close to me like before – like now, the I’ll wait a decade, a millennium, until you’re back in my arms.”

He gave you a gentle smile, and your body flooded with warmth, a warmth that reminded you of hugs when you’re sad, a fireplace lit during a cold winter, the cosiness of slipping your feet into fluffy sock fresh out of a dryer. All good feelings. Feelings Jimin brought.

“So, can I wait?”

You returned his smile, cheeks flushing a rosy red. It felt like the first time in forever that you smiled, a foreign but pleasant stretch of your face.

“Okay.”

[revengefulhcart-a]

      Drabble about the fight with the Drago under the cut.

    Anger, nothing but anger filled his body and soul. Angry tears, angry face, angry heart. The fact that his mother didn’t get the chance to jump down with him and his twin brother because of that DRAGO angered him. She could be alive right now, comforting he and Lucas after witnessing such a traumatic switch in what was once harmless creatures. Now he had to be the one to comfort his brother as their father was sent to jail ( big reminder, this jail cell has never once been used ) for god knows how long.

    Claus held his brother a bit too tightly as they laid in bed, it had taken a good few hours to get the blonde to finally relax and sleep those tears away. Their dog slept at the bed’s edge knowing what sort of emotions the two were going through, the dog himself was rather depressed.

       He couldn’t let that beast get away with murder. It should apologize for what crime it committed. It should be the one in the jail cell, not their father. Perhaps persuasion; if the ginger begged enough maybe it will bring his mother back. Or even he’d threaten to never play with it again. So many more questions swamped his mind as he had gotten up and paced around the tiny house. These choices were that of pacifistic, they surely wouldn’t convince it no how. There’s gotta be another way.

    Now his body went into hunting mode, to find anything in the house that might be the missing clue in his restless mind. He checked under both beds, lifted all the pillows ( except the one his twin was sleeping with )--- everywhere! Claus was about to give up but froze in place when he opened the drawer next to the door.

    All emotions were drained out of his body, stood there like a statue. Inside that drawer was the knife. THAT KNIFE he’s seen something he never thought humans could do with his innocent mind. He can still remember crying over the fact Flint had used this knife to kill a deathly sick pig once. Flint was swift and quick to end that poor animal’s life, jabbed it in one spot and only a soft squeal left the pig before it stopped breathing. That day, Claus understood why he was never allowed to hold it. It did more than just chipping wood. It could KILL.

              *ℂ𝕝𝕒𝕦𝕤 𝕒𝕔𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕙𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕞𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕜𝕟𝕚𝕗𝕖

       A shaky but hasty hand goes to reach the sheathed blade as if it’s a sin to even lay a finger on it. Once it’s lifted out of the drawer, Claus quickly shuts it and releases the breath that was unaware of being held.  This was the answer. An eye for an eye.

                                       Claus was going to kill that Drago.

    Body now motions to the door, ready to go kill it while his body was boiling with determination. Once that hand hit the door handle ( he could literally just pull it open since SOMEONE pulled on the handle from the outside a little too hard and lost it ) Boney whines out to the young boy. The ginger was once again stopped, ghostly face turns to look at the dog who was looking back at him. It was as if he could sense the emotion in the trusty canine: Boney was worried and knew that if Claus left, Lucas wouldn’t wake up in a decent mood. Who knows what the blonde would do then.

       “A’ight, boy…but just ‘til th’ sun rises.”

    Hand lets go of the doorknob and shuffles his way back to the bed, slipping the knife under his pillow incase anything were to happen. Claus wraps his arm around his sleeping brother whose face was stained with tears that should have never been. Although in bed, he didn’t sleep a wink, his body was fully driven into needing to avenge Hinawa.

       The sun took too long for him to rise but it came quicker once he finally shut his eyes an hour just before it awoke from its slumber. It’s warm and welcoming, but this was no day to celebrate.

    Both brothers were standing at the cliff side blanketed by sunflowers as they stood at the newly made grave with the text engraved in it saying:

       Wife of Flint, Mother of the twins Claus and Lucas, Daughter of Alec. May the beautiful Hinawa rest in peace here for all time.

    Lucas was once again hosing out big fat tears as he crouched beside the grave, Claus would have joined him if his emotions weren’t in shock. Flint always told him to never cry so that he could be strong for their family and one day his own. That’s what he was to do, be strong for his family.

       So, when the crowd cleared out the older twin looked at the younger, after the blonde rejects visiting their dad in the jail cell there’s a shaky sigh before he speaks up.

    “Lucas, I’m going t’ find that Drago and ‘m going t’ kill it. Y’ better not follow me or else--- And don’t y’ dare tell anyone about this…I…I will never forgive y’ if y’ do.”

       Then he runs off as the sounds of his brother’s wailing dwindles the further he went. One of the towns folk greet him, which halts him to a sudden stop and only flashes a feigning smile at her before running off again. There was one more task to do before he goes scaling that mountain.

    "Dad. It's me. Claus. I told Lucas t’ come too, but he's been crying at Mom's grave all this time.”

    Came a whisper as he ventures into the little room Flint was cooped up in. The son places an apple on the cell.

       “Dad. I'm gonna leave this apple here. The core might be hard, but... The core... The core might be too hard to eat, but be SURE y’ eat it!”

    He slowly backs away still facing his father he says nothing to him. He must be still upset, the poor man looked like he committed this murder.

       “I'm gonna get stronger. ...I'm gonna get so strong even Dragos won't stand a chance against me!”

    Now he faces the entrance, anxiety welling up inside of him, even though the apple was an escape tool for his dad, even if he could let him make the choice of what to do, Claus’ hasty mind made up the best choice of not sitting back and letting adults do everything. It was time he showed the world what he was capable of.

       “Dad... I..."

    Without finishing that last thought, he runs off.

       Upon his exhausting trail to the mountain, he encounters a strange woman…maybe a man, who had pink hair and went by the name of Aeolia. Aeolia proved to be very useful, in fact they taught him a magical power that was locked inside of him called PK Love. Saying that Claus possess a special energy that flowed within. Whatever it was, he was to use it on the green beast.

    The rest of the way up was a blur, with encouragement from the pink stranger and determination to kill, reaching this location was a breeze. The ginger finally slows once he made it.

       Hefty breathing inhaled and exhaled as now it had time to rest. Baby blue hues scan the area for any signs of life. Walking up more, a loud yell comes out of nowhere and pounces the child. He lets out his own scream, thinking he was getting attacked. In reality, it was the baby Drago he had played with yesterday.

    The baby didn’t seem hostile, but it did rip off his shoe and run off with it. Ergo, it causes Claus to yell out and demand to give it back. The boy gives up, reminding himself that the shoe isn’t important. He will kill the Drago with one blue shoe.

       Pulling out the knife from his back pocket, he raises it up to his face and holds it with both hands. He’s scared---terrified. But the mission was not over until this Drago felt the pain it has inflicted onto everyone.

    “This is for y’, mom…”

       Loud thumping shakes the ground, even making the older twin bounce like the small pebbles on the dirt. Eyes shoot wide open and look up at the now robotic beast. That red eye shoots an arrow into him, draining all his confidence. Skin goes completely pale and knees shake in their locked spot. There it was, that dirty mother killer.

    A loud roar screeches out of the creature, spit and smelly air blast at him. Claus is about to run until he sees that missing tooth. That said tooth was the one that impaled into his mother’s heart. From that second of having his eardrums blown out, courage flows right back into him and eyebrows knit together in an angry expression.

    “I do not fear y’, ugly thing!”

       He yells back at it, giving a hard point,

    “Y’ killed my mother and now y’ must die for that!”

    The Drago snarls and erects its foot to stomp on the boy, but he quickly rolls out of the way. The twin was nimble, albeit not quick enough to outrun the giant.

       The neck, the neck is where his father stabbed the pig, so it’s obvious to him that this is where he was to stab as well. The cover to the knife is taken off and thrown aside, Claus plans how this fight is going to end:

With the newly taught PK Love, he was going to shoot down the Drago with it so that he could reach its neck. Once that is done, the knife will be jammed so deep into that throat of it’s that there will be no coming back from it. Then he shall go home and claim to his family and the villagers that the war between the Drago and their people was no more. He’d be the hero of this story.

       Nodding to himself in agreement to his own plan, his hand flings up and sets off a spark of the “magic” he was given.

                                *ℂ𝕝𝕒𝕦𝕤 𝕦𝕤𝕖𝕕 ℙ𝕂 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖

                     *𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕄𝕖𝕔𝕙𝕒 𝔻𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕠 𝕥𝕠𝕠𝕜 𝟘ℍℙ

    “!?”

       It bounced right off like a fly, why didn’t it work!? Aeolia said it would stop anything, they lied to him! In his own confusion, he briefly forgets that the dinosaur used this time to swing it’s claws at the ginger. Barely getting time to react he skims the blow and falls to the ground, intense pain following with it. Left eye took the fall, now it was oozing with blood and his breath hitches from the pain. This was a bad idea, it was too late to run. He couldn’t see a thing or get up and run now that his body was trying to heal this wound.

    The beast looms over him, head lowering dangerously low down to his own bloody face. In one last attempt Claus weakly punches the creature with the bunt end of the knife before his arm goes limp and falls harshly back to the ground.

       Another mistake, it caused the thing to flare out its nose before letting out another deaf prone cry. Drool getting into his hair and both visions blur as he’s now crying in the only functioning eye. The twin mumbles out for mercy and all he gets is bone crushing jaw to his right arm, snapping this twig like arm and then flings him off the cliff.

    There’s not much he could do but pray to his family for failing them. And if he comes back alive out of this, he would never be the same kid again. Right as he hits the bottom of the cliff,

                           Everything goes black.

[firekissedpiper]

— ✗ ℙ 𝔸 ℝ 𝔸 ℕ 𝕆 𝕀 𝔸 : Part 2. — ✗ Time Period: Mid-April, 2019. — ✗ TW: Stalking, abuse, kidnapping, attempted sexual assault. Every minute she didn’t know where Ella was drove her mad. Considering it’d been hours now, she was completely on the brink of insanity. She had ended up searching through the mall parking lot for any sign of where Tomas might have been, and barely restrained herself from physically hitting those who seemed to be sitting on any sort of information. The police station had been by far the worse. She had gotten to the station only to find out that Tomas owned station captain there. It’d been easy enough to tell. Tomas must have carefully calculated it, because some of the phrases that had been parroted off by the man had been exact ones Tomas had used in the past. He called her dramatic, accused of her being crazy. Exactly what Tomas said people would do if she ever decided to speak up of his abuse. That time, she’d gotten physical, pinning the man to the wall. She was certain the only reason she wasn’t in cuffs was because Tomas wanted her, and the man was probably under strict orders to ensure such a thing. She wanted to know how Tomas had managed to buy off someone, especially here. He must have been planning it. A part of her was panicked and wondering how the hell he’d managed to know where she was. She had been trying to be careful, for Ella’s sake especially. Piper had managed to get a call out, checking in with Ms. Saxton to see if Kaia was alright. The woman assured her she was. Piper cut off the call before she got a chance to ask any more questions. Piper drove in both directions of the main drag in town. She stopped in a convenience store on one way, checking to see if Tomas had stopped there. The man confirmed that he had. She asked if he had made any suggestions of where he was going. He said he was taking his little girl home, mentioned what a cute kid he had. It made Piper’s teeth grit. She was going to kill Tomas when she got her hands on him. Another step had her heading in the general direction. She found the nearest housing settlement not too far outside town. A section for the bigger houses. This was where Tomas would be. He had never been able to resist flaunting his wealth. The bigger the better. She knew him all too well. When she got into the neighborhood she knocked on a few doors here and there. She asked everyone if they’d seen Tomas, showing a picture of him. One of the women finally spoke up, pointing her to a house that he would have lived in. Piper followed the lead, making her way down the off road to the house he had supposedly lived in. She didn’t waste any time. Scared or not, Piper was going in there whether it was all some trap, which she didn’t doubt it was. She knew he was luring her for a reason, that he’d set everything up with a purpose in mind. He wanted her there. He wanted to hurt her. Piper got out of the car, closing the door behind her and making her way up the steps to the house. It wasn’t nearly as fancy and elaborate as the palace had been, but it would do in a pinch for someone who wanted to show off their wealth if they were believed to be a commoner. She didn’t bother knocking. She walked right in, slowly looking around. The place was fairly empty. She sat it as she walked around, deciding to take on the main level first. No furniture, no signs of life. It was empty. It only made it all the more haunting to her. She didn’t like the feeling one bit. The brunette headed in, slowly shifting her gaze around. She didn’t let her gaze linger for too long, constantly checking behind her. Even though it’d been hours ago her head still hurt. And she wasn’t going to get blindsided again. She didn’t drop her senses, keeping them tuned and expanded. The brunette caught the very subtle sound of her daughter starting to whine. She was well and tuned to that sound, knowing exactly when to swoop in before the full on tears began. Piper didn’t waste time, she followed the sound, making her way down one of the hallways. She checked each room. One was a bathroom. Another was a bedroom. There was three bedrooms before she found herself venturing into the one at the end of the hall. It was the only room set up. It was designed as a nursery. Such a thing was so brazen and obviously designed to disturb her that it only served her anger. But that was ignorable. She couldn’t even be bothered to be furious to focus on the riling anger when she saw Tomas in the corner, and Rhaella thankfully safe and well in a bassinet. The anger was there, ready to leap and snap out at Tomas. But she quickly calmed it, knowing it was no way to get the better of him, no way to get her and her daughter out of there safely. “You know, our daughter is quite the looker,” Tomas said from the seat he had beside the bassinet, amusement in his voice, reaching in and brushing two fingers over the side of Ella’s face. The action made Piper want to rip his hand off. She hated every moment that he laid a hand on the small child. She knew what those hands were capable of. Knew what he could do. She mentally vowed to make him pay for what he’d done. “She has my nose I think. And my eyebrows. Your lips though I believe,” he mentioned. Piper stayed deathly still, slowly feeling part of her mind unravel at his words. She’d spent the first hours after Ella’s birth convincing herself that Ella looked nothing like her father. “She seems thin though, do you feed her enough?” A little jab of course. He couldn’t resist trying to flare her temper. Of course, she knew that he was trying to tempt her, to get her to make a quick and uncalculated attack. She knew Tomas, and she knew him well enough to know that while a lot of his actions were out of his own amusement and temper, that he planned exactly what would hurt the most. Part of his sadistic amusement was plotting the whole thing out. “I feed her just fine,” Piper said, mentally going through scenarios to get them out of there. She took a look around the room, searching for something she could use as a weapon. The best idea was to try and get him unconscious and then get Ella out of there as fast as possible. She’d drive as long as she’d have to if it meant finding some non-corrupt law officer to handle Tomas. “Well, I suppose if you didn’t it would make sense. After all, she is a piece of me. And after our little fight punishing me would be a natural thought, I know I’ve thought about punishing you for running out on me, for getting those lawyers involved. It’s funny how you didn’t mention the night we created this little girl though, I guess a part of you is still owned by me, scared of me,” he said the words with amusement. Admittedly, he was right. A part of him did still have a hold a part of her. The fear he inflicted still owned her in a lot of ways. But she certainly wasn’t taking it out on her daughter. “The only person who deserves to pay for your sins is you,” Piper said tensely, clenching her fist and digging her nails in. The nerve pain kicked up and kept her grounded. Tomas stood up. She hated that she stepped back. It was too easy for her body to fall into the pattern of being scared of him, to bowing to his. Every minute she was around her had her adrenaline pumping, the fear running through her veins and coating them with ice. She was terrified of what he could do to her, to her daughter. She knew she couldn’t let him hurt Ella, she wouldn’t. The idea was unfathomable. “But, she is the problem isn’t she, for you. A constant reminder of what I did, of the way I touched you. She’s a walking piece of evidence of what you did. Of the day you cried in front of me, when I got inside you and ensured I would never leave. A constant reminder of the day I took the piece of you that you will never get back. It’s in her. She took months from you, and every day you have her, that you live with her it’s just one more day of your life I own,” he said. His voice was low, lacking in amusement. He never quite said what he did, never quite admitted that what he’d done was wrong. To him, she was sure painting it as a love affair was all part of the fun, like she’d wanted him. He was either delusional or just did it to upset her. “She’s not,” Piper said firmly. Though his words, in a way made sense to her. Appealing to that deeper darker sense of fear she’d had when she first went to the abortion clinic, when she’d discovered she’d been pregnant with his child. “But she is. I put her in you, we made this baby,” with each word he stepped closer. Piper refused to let herself step back even if every part of her wanted to. He reached out and touched her stomach. She wanted to flinch away, instead she just pushed his hand off of her body. “I am the reason she exists. She’s my blood, my daughter,” she dug her nails into her hand harder, rejecting every word he spoke. “She’s my daughter, my blood, and you know it deep in your soul. You know every time you look at her you see me. That every time you see her, you see the pieces of me. In her jawline…her nose. You look at her face and you think of me on top of you. I know you do Piper,” he taunted, stepping to her side and shifting behind her. “She’s not you, she’s my daughter,” she said, teeth clenched tightly together. “But she isn’t. To you, she’s a constant reminder of what happened, of what I did to you. She’s a living, breathing rewind tape to that night. You’ll never forget it, never move on as long as she’s around. Come on Piper, you know it’s true. You know you’ll never be free from me. Isn’t that what you wanted? Freedom?” The words had the slightest hint of amusement in them. She was certain her hand was bleeding at this point she was clenching her fist so hard. “And hey, what do you know in a few years she’ll likely be just like her daddy.” He whispered the words in her ear. The threat of them had her flinching. “But it’s alright, because I know how to fix it, to make all those problems of yours go away,” he said the words rather softly, brushing back a strand of her hair. “I know how to help you.” She hated his touch. It reminded her of the many times he laid his hands on her. Rounding so he was next to her as opposed to behind her, she was thankful for the shift of position. He reached back into his waistband and pulled out a gun. Much to her shock, he handed it to her, placing it in her hand after cocking the thing. “See, I told you I would help, provide you a solution out of this. You get rid of her and well, you get rid of the real problem.” He was confident, he had to be because he stood right next to the bassinet. Her hands shook as she held the gun. She couldn’t believe his words. It didn’t take long for them to register. She'd made up her mind. Slowly, she raised the gun, at first pointing it at the bassinet. She changed her aim just enough so even if the gun did go off, it would hit the spot correctly. “There’s always been only one problem,” she said through her teeth. Then she flipped the weapon rather quickly on Tomas, pulling the trigger. There was a bang. She saw the flash. But Tomas stayed standing. “You really think I’d give you a gun filled with anything but blanks?” He asked, there was a dark look in his eyes. Shock took place on her features. She couldn’t believe that she’d thought he would do such a thing. Tomas was cocky, but he wasn’t entirely stupid. She had underestimated him. “You know what Piper, I think it’s time for a punishment,” there was a thinly restrained tone in his voice. He was on her in seconds, knocking the gun out of her hand so it couldn’t be used as any sort of weapon. He knocked her to the ground and she quickly tried to remind herself of some of the self-defense lessons Mateo had been teaching her, shifting her footing. Tomas’ brute strength one over her attempt at maneuvering the fall. She still ended up trapped underneath his body. Didn’t stop her from struggling though. She wasn’t fully injured or underfed this time. She wasn’t weak. She fought for her life, panic and remembrance of what had happened before sparking her movement. Once more, she was reminded of how helpless she was when he kept her down. A firm punch in the face stunned her. And then he started working on her pants. She kicked her legs fiercely, trying to jerk her knees up to hit him in the groin like she had before. He had learned and better protected himself for it this time. She bucked like a horse trying to get him off of her. She took advantage of his weak grip of his hand holding her two wrists together to try and escape his grasp. It worked, only for a moment though. He quickly repined her and pushed down her pants over her thighs. His movements were rough as usual. She could tell he was rushing, spurned off of anger from her attempting to shoot him no doubt. Mentally, she tried to keep calm enough, reminding herself that he was angry, that he would mess up, only if she stayed calm. She could barely hold onto her frail sense of calm. She could barely fight the fear and panic that ran through her as he tore open his own pants. She couldn’t let this happen again. “And after this, maybe we’ll get rid of your problem for you,” he said firmly. She realized he wouldn’t stop, he’d do anything to terrorize her. Finally, her fear ignited her. New energy and adrenaline flooded her. And more than that, her absolute and undeniable urge to protect her daughter gave her strength. She escaped his grasp once again, this time going for another punch in the appendage he’d revealed. Using his distraction she grabbed the lamp off the nightstand and hit him with as much force as she could throw behind it. It knocked him to the ground. When she saw he was still conscious, she climbed on top of him, hitting him again, and again. “She is my daughter!” She shouted between one of the hits. “You will never worm your way inside of me again,” she hit him again, blind with her instinct to protect, by her own rage. “You will never hit me or any other woman,” she hit him again. “You will never own any part of me,” another hit. “Stop, Piper, please,” she heard his words. And she was reminded of her own begging. When she’d begged him to stop raping her, to stop thrusting into her body with the desire to cause the utmost pain. But she couldn’t stop. It only ignited her anger. “You will never hurt me or any other woman again.” A remnant of what he’d done to her, she shouted the words. She hit him each time with the lamp, not even quite realizing what she’d done. Not realizing that he’d stopped breathing, or that she’d gone too far. She kept hitting as she felt blood spatter on her face, kept hitting through his cries and pleas that he’d do anything to stay alive. She kept hitting and didn’t stop. When she finally stopped, it was when she realized he was completely still, that his face was practically bashed in. Slowly, she stood up, in complete shock of what she had done. He was there, dead on the ground, and it’d been by her hand. Ella’s crying became apparent, likely because of Piper’s shouting. Slowly, Piper walked over to the bassinet and picked the girl up, cradling her to her chest. “It’s alright, it’s okay, we’re safe now,” she whispered.

[writtenbytammy]

At the start of every summer, I have a small ritual that I’ve been doing for a couple of years now. I read the entire Harry Potter series from start to finish in one go, just back to back to back until I fall asleep and then I wake up the next morning and continue reading the novels until I’m finished. My mom and sister have always thought I was strange for doing this. 

“WHY would you re-read books when you already KNOW what happens?” my mom asks exasperatedly when she sees me holding the duct-taped spines in place. I always shrug in response. It’s not that I’m a Harry Potter fanatic…I don’t have a tattoo of the Deathly Hallows or a Pottermore account, and I definitely don’t spend my time rewatching movie clips or writing fanfiction on forums. Honestly, the best way to describe this is that it could have been any series, but it just happens to be this one. Once I start book 1, I have to finish it until book 7, that’s how it works for me. My sister has kept her thoughts to herself until I dropped the Half-blood Prince down the (clean) toilet by accident. “Gross,” she said.

My father, on the other hand, is extremely supportive of this little summer event, and the moment he sees my dog-eared copies at the dinner table, he nods in understanding. He tiptoes around my spot on the couch and shushes my mother and sister when they’re around me. “Shhhh,” he says. “Heejae is reading her favorite.”

I had gone a full year without reading the series during the time I worked in Korea, and although my eyes always strayed towards the bright new copies at YP Books, I didn’t even bother buying them. On the day I flew back to the States, I reached for the first novel and immediately fell asleep from jet lag. My father messaged the family on our Kakao group chat the very next morning. 

“It is time Heejae applies for writing school.” was what he wrote. “Every time she reads the Harry Potter books she is reading with different eyes. I someday hope she will be like that J.K. Rowling!” I rolled my eyes then, but once I had already finished book 7 and realized I would be idling around at home, I started wondering about a masters in fine arts for creative writing. When I told my dad I was thinking about starting a portfolio for schools, he was so happy. “Go Heej!” he hooted. I would spend the next six months writing and editing and scrapping short stories that I would use in my applications. When things got difficult and writer’s blocks felt more like mountains, I would occasionally crack open a novel, read one sentence, and wonder how different a real author was to someone like me. I was constantly unhappy with the compositions I had created, but I submitted them nonetheless.

In February, when I started preparing for interviews, my father texted me every single day: “Don’t forget to mention Harry Potter as your greatest influence!” No, I said. Mentioning J.K. Rowling during a graduate program interview was a surefire way to the rejection pile. I told him I was going to discuss Henry James and modern Romanticism, or Asian-American issues and immigrant narratives. “You can say what you want, but if you forget Harry Potter you are not being honest,” he said.

After the end of my admissions season, I panicked. I don’t know how else to explain what I went through…something in me snapped and I grew afraid. I told my father that I didn’t want to go to an arts program after all. I came up with a lot of different excuses: it was expensive, I had lost my touch after being out of practice, I would try again later after I worked real jobs and saved real money. Cold feet, he called my roundabout explanations. I was scared of the unknown and he knew I was searching for a logical sense of direction because I couldn’t justify following my uncertain, wavering heart. He called me into the living room after dinner one night in May, and I sat on the piano bench as he searched for the right words to say.

“In one moment, life changes,” he finally said, and his words were gentle, but firm. “You have a small talent. It is a small seed, but under correct care and passion it will grow into a big tree. But you are afraid of growing something small, and you have not even tried.” He handed me his thesis, it was a slender black book with his name etched on the front in gold ink. I opened the cover and it was his dedication page, usually those are paragraphs long for all the professors, staff, and family members that contributed to the work. His was one sentence: “To all who forgave my faults in my life.” I briefly wondered what it would be like if I carried my own thesis, what would I write for the dedications? How thick would it be? But I snapped out of it and closed his book instead. Maybe, I still said. Maybe, but there’s just a lot of things I need to consider right now. Maybe it’s also a good idea to wait. Everything is happening so quickly, I don’t know what I want anymore. Maybe. He nodded, and I knew he wouldn’t press on the subject.

The next day, I woke up to $500 in my bank account, transferred under my father’s name. I knew immediately what it was for: the price for the registration fee, if I planned on accepting my offer. My father was letting me know that he supported me, but ultimately the decision was mine to make. I hemmed and hawed for hours and rifled through my admissions packet over and over again. Suddenly, I found myself navigating through all of the necessary websites to enroll into the program. I pressed the “submit payment” button before realizing that everything was about to change, and it was me who had made it that way. In one moment, life changes.

A few days ago it was Harry Potter’s 20th anniversary and I realized I was so wrapped up in getting ready for school that I had completely forgotten about my summer tradition. I was in the middle of pulling out The Sorcerer’s Stone from my bookshelf when my father came into my room to ask a question about airports. He saw the book in my hand, and turned to leave.

“It’s different every time, isn’t it?” he said as he left, and I smiled to myself before opening the cover to the first chapter.