#people are really living up to harry’s treat people with kindness statement
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k-s-morgan · 11 months ago
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Hey, I was re-reading ATLWETD when I noticed something so obvious in this paragraph that I stupidly didn't notice the first time.
"Riddle was taller than him, so now his lips were almost brushing against Harry’s forehead. 
“I don’t need to live in a Muggle world to own someone,” he murmured. Belatedly, Harry realised why he was standing so close — he didn’t want others to overhear his outrageous statements. “You should know this. After all, you know me better than anyone.”"
He wasn't gloating only about the death eaters, like Harry thought, he was mostly referring to the Horocrux situation and their own really unique relationship (also, the fact he almost kisses the scar as he speaks made me scream).
Will we see more moments like this in the next chapters?? (If you don't want to spoil us, just ignore this part.)
This all brings me to the actual question: Harry replies:"It’s because I know you that I’m not going to entertain your disturbing fantasies,” he said. Somehow, he managed to sound less harsh than he intended. “No matter what loyalty anyone promises you, it is not infinite. If you treat people who pledged themselves to you cruelly, they are not going to stay. I saw it happen. And by the rate you’re going, I think it might happen again.”
What the hell did Tom assume from this reply? And most importantly, what assumptions did he make about the connection between Harry and fake!Tom based on this answer?
Hoping the best for you and your loved ones in these hard times <333
Hi! Thank you <3 I'm glad that you saw the second meaning of Tom's words. It was related to how Tom envisions their relationship and to the Horcruxes both.
The more Tom imagines what life he and Harry might have had, the more feelings and desires are born in him. He's certain that Harry was his in every way and that he had absolute control over him because in his eyes, that's the only possibility for them to have a relationship. This is what he began to want now, so he's sure that any other version of him must have wanted the same. Harry cannot relate to it, ownership doesn't interest him, so he didn't fully comprehend what Tom meant.
I cannot say specifically what kind of moments of closeness and possessiveness we'll get because I never plan these things, they pop up by themselves as I write! But there will definitely be a lot of them))
As for your second question, Tom and Harry are having somewhat different conversations here. Harry is talking purely about Tom's followers, Tom is talking about them and about his bond with Harry at the same time. Harry's words made him think that he lost the devotion of some of his Death Eaters in that other reality, but most importantly, he contemplates the fact that his attitude cost him Harry. He doesn't know the specifics, but he thinks that his insanity pushed Harry away and resulted in him being snatched into some other world. Harry doesn't seem to be actively trying to go back to it, which Tom considers as another proof of their broken bond. In his mind, with their connection, Harry would have to be obsessed with reuniting with 'his' Tom. Since he isn't, it means that the other Tom failed him so much that Harry is now more interested in building something new with his other version.
Tom is confident that he'll be a better partner. At the same time, while he places Harry above everyone else, he doesn't see him as his equal, and he cannot imagine a relationship without any violence and control in it. He thinks Harry mostly accepts it, only that 'his' Tom overdid it because of the Horcruxes. So after Harry's reply, Tom's trying to assure him him that some violence is an inherent part of a relationship, and that he's in his right mind, so he'll know how to keep a balance between violence and fondness - basically, that he'll succeed in being a leader that Harry (and the others) would be glad to respect and follow both in 'professional' and personal capacities.
This probably sounds a little messy, but Tom's mind is still reeling from all the (fake) revelations, so he cannot always settle on a specific picture) It keeps changing.
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perfectlyvalid49 · 9 months ago
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Hello, I am not Jewish, but I grew up in an area with a noticeable population of Jews who, historically, were able to be openly Jewish. I learned from a young age about the horrors that have happened to your people throughout history, and have been disgusted by the rise in more blatant antisemitism that has reared its ugly head in the days and months since October 7th, a day which also horrified and disgusted me. I have also long considered myself to be pro-Israel, seeing the neccessity for Jewish self-determination in this world.
With my background out of the way, I saw one of your posts mentioned things we non-Jews might not notice are antisemitic due to it being part of our culture and what not, and I was hoping you could tell me some of them? I've detested antisemitism for as long as I can remember, so if I've been unintentionally doing anything that fits that, I would like to stop. Thank you and have a nice day.
I want to start by saying that I really appreciate the fact that you’re trying, and that you want to learn to do better in case you’re making any mistakes. I am a firm believer that EVERYONE has blind spots when it comes to how they treat members of minority groups, be it antisemitism, racism, homophobia, or whatever else, and that while intent isn’t all that matters, it matters a lot. While I’m answering your question, I’m going to cover some stuff you may already know based on the background you gave in the hopes that this answer will be useful for other people as well. I hope you don’t mind.
I also want to put a couple caveats on what I’m about to say. The first is that this is not a comprehensive list. It’s just whatever came to mind while I was typing this up. I’m sure I’ve missed things, but hopefully this gives you an idea of the kind of thing I was talking about. If anyone sees this and wants to add additional examples, please do!
The other caveat is that different Jews will have different definitions of what is and is not antisemitic. The big obvious stuff, like people chanting “Gas the Jews,” or accusations that Jews use the blood of Christian children to bake their bread, almost everyone is going to agree that’s antisemitic. The more subtle stuff, which is what we’re going to be talking about here, is more likely to prompt disagreement. For example, last year there was a lot of conversation on Tumblr about how the goblins in the Harry Potter game were an antisemitic caricature. The reaction from Jews I know in real life basically boiled down to, “Yeah, I guess I can see it. I don’t really think it’s that big of a deal though.” So, some of the stuff I mention, other Jews might disagree that it’s antisemitic. And there are some things that I might leave out because I don’t think they’re antisemitic that other Jews think really are antisemitic. That’s OK!
I think that if we’re going to talk about antisemitism that is present in Western culture, then we need to talk about the antisemitism that’s baked into Christianity, and acknowledge that because a lot of Western culture has been heavily influenced by the church, even if a person is not religiously Christian, if they are culturally Western, then Christianity has had a large impact on their culture, and we can say that they are culturally Christian. And if this post gets big, I know that I’m going to get murdered for that statement, but that’s ok, there’s nothing Christians love more than a crucified Jew (THIS IS A JOKE (mostly.)) I don’t know if you’re Christian or not, but I live in the US, and most people here are heavily influenced by Christian thought and philosophy without realizing it, even if they’re not Christian, and these are the people I was talking about when I made the comment that prompted the ask.
So how is antisemitism baked into Christianity? Well, to understand that, we need to understand some of the problems early Christianity had, namely, the fact that the Jews of the time rejected their beliefs and the fact that Rome persecuted early Christians pretty hard. And we also need to talk about Supersessionism.
Early Christians had a major issue with contemporaneous Jews because the Jews rejected their teachings. Like, Jesus and his followers were Jews, and after his death they wanted all other Jews to agree that he was the messiah, even though he didn’t do all the things the Jewish messiah was supposed to do. This is both why Christianity has the second coming (so that he can do those things) and why the New Testament opens with a genealogy linking Jesus to David (the messiah is supposed to be from the line of David), the early Christians were *desperate* for legitimacy in their new religion. And when the rest of the Jewish community rejected it, they got a little mad, and decided that Christians clearly understand Jewish holy texts better than Jews do (up to and including editing said texts to better support their views), something that persists to this day. I have actually seen Christians show up on posts about being Jewish and try to explain to the Jews about how we’re wrong about our own religion. This is absolutely antisemitism, and it does really happen.
The other thing early Christians decided is that the Jews have been presented with the true word of G-d and have rejected it, so they must be evil. This is true of the early Christians, but I also want to stress that almost every major player in the Protestant Reformation absolutely HATED Jews. Luther literally published a treatise entitled “On the Jews and Their Lies”, and some scholars think that there is a direct line between Luther’s hatred of Jews and the formation of the Nazi party. I think Luther was the worst of them, but none of those guys were cool with Jews, so just know that all of the protestant denominations were founded by guys who would kill me if they could.
Because the Jews were now considered evil, the Christians concluded that the covenant G-d had made with the Jews now applied to the Christians. Now, in Christian thought, they were the Chosen People, and the Jews were no longer so blessed. This is the premise behind supersessionism, and it basically posits that Christians have replaced Jews as the true people of Israel, and it was embraced by many of the men who shaped what Christianity is today, in virtually every denomination of Christianity that exists.
The early Christians dealt with their Roman persecution problem by allying themselves with the Romans. One might think that this would be difficult, as the Romans are very much the bad guys in the new testament. Like, the guys who arrested Jesus were Roman, and following Rome’s orders, Pilate was Roman, and the men who put Jesus on the cross were Roman. So how could Christianity ally with the people who killed Jesus? Well, it’s simple, they were already mad at the Jews for rejecting their new religion, so they would claim that all of that was the Jews’ fault so the Romans could be allied with for political power. And Rome didn’t like the Jews anyway, so they loved it when the Christians threw the Jews under the bus.
So, a lot of cultural antisemitism has its basis here, with this idea that Jews are not like the rest of us, they’re somehow worse (“the rest of us” meaning people in Christian cultures). And while a lot of it has turned into more overt antisemitism (“Jews killed Jesus,” Jews kill Christian children for their blood to make bread/matzoh, Jews control money/media/government). But this also turns into things like sermons about the evils of the Pharisees or praising Jesus for the cleansing of the Temple. How is that antisemitic? Well, the Pharisees are the fathers of modern Judaism, so if their evil, then the modern version of our religion is based on the thoughts of evil men. Jesus’s cleansing of the Temple was, from a Jewish perspective, a story about a man deciding that the systems that Jews established to make worship easier should be taken away. Praising that is praising the disruption of Jewish worship.
And on the other end of things, we have people (mostly Christians, but some not), who are in love with the idea of Jews, but not actual Jews. In non-Christians, this looks like people with the opinion “Christians suck, but the Jews are cool.” As an example, I had a guy show up on one of my posts to let me know that he used to hold Jews in high regard because he thought our culture would make us immune from nationalism and far-right ideologies. He was so disappointed in us when we behaved just like other groups of human beings. And while he said that he had thought well of us, he still thought of us as being not like other human cultures – that’s antisemitic. And being mad at us for acting like other humans? That’s antisemitic too.
In Christians, it usually looks like people saying “We love Jews, Jesus was a Jew!” This implies that the only reason to love Jews is because of a relation to a deity we don’t believe in. It ignores real, live Jews in favor of people who if real, have been dead for 2000 years, and makes it seem like our only value is that you like one guy from a very different version of our culture (modern Judaism is VERY different than what Jews contemporary with Jesus would have practiced). These people are also the ones who are most likely to try to connect with Judaism through cultural appropriation. The most common example of this is churches that hold a “Passover Seder.” Judaism is a mostly closed religion, and our holidays are not for other people to play dress up. Like, imagine if a church in the US said it was going to do a Native American ceremony with no Native American input, and you have an idea of the level of cultural appropriation. And people would rightly call that out as not ok, but churches do this all the time. The excuse that they use is that the last supper was a Seder, but while that may be true, the modern seder, which is what most churches try to do, is not how Jesus would have celebrated in the time of the Temple. So, their reasoning doesn’t hold much water, Jews tend to be pretty clear that it’s not ok as far as we’re concerned, so this behavior is very problematic.
Moving on from Christianity, there’s also stuff that has been around so long we’ve forgotten their antisemitic origins. I mentioned goblins at the start of this, but did you know that witches are also based on antisemitic stereotypes? The green skin, the big nose, the hat which matches hats Jews were required to wear in parts of medieval Europe, the magic received from a deal with the devil – these are all heavily based on antisemitic caricatures of Jews. And while I don’t think witches by themselves are antisemitic, if you start pairing them with other antisemitic things it gets bad fast. Like, a witch is not antisemitic, and a person kidnapping children is not antisemitic, but a witch kidnapping children is raising some serious red flags. And a cabal (the word cabal is derived from Kabbalah, which is a Jewish practice, and its use is ALSO antisemitic) of witches doing so is a big freaking problem.
Or we could talk about Charles Dickens. His works are considered classics, and are often required reading in school. But Fagin in Oliver Twist is a walking antisemitic Jewish stereotype, and that’s never called out in lesson plans. So to people who have never met a Jew, but have read this classic of English literature, Fagin is what they think of when they think Jews. For the classes with one Jewish kid – how do you think it feels to have everyone in class be like, “Oh you’re Jewish, just like Fagin the bad guy!” Of note, Dickens did write a much less antisemitic Jewish character in a later novel, Our Mutual Friend, but of these two, which one gets taught?
I also want to talk about institutional antisemitism. This is similar to the idea of institutional racism, if you’re familiar with that concept – the idea that racism has worked its way into how our very society is structured, so even if you try very hard to be anti-racist, the society you live in is designed to make life harder for POC. Institutional antisemitism is the same thing, except the system is rigged against Jews instead.
We’ll start with one that Jews and Blacks have in common – redlining. It’s the practice of not allowing people (mostly Black people, but also other POC) to buy houses in certain areas. Usually this was done by banks not giving mortgages to people, but there are also homes where it’s in the deed to the house, or in the by laws of the local HOA that you’re not allowed to sell to Black people. It turns out that some houses/HOAs also have “no Jews allowed” rules as well. And it’s super subtle – is a neighborhood Jew free because we’re an incredibly small portion of the population and just so happen to not live there? Or are they legally barred from living there? It can be hard to tell without doing some significant digging. My synagogue actually had a booth at our Purim carnival last year so that we could see if our neighborhood still had anti-Black housing laws so we could work on getting them changed if so. Solidarity.
There’s also probably some institutional antisemitism in your workplace. There sure as heck is in mine, and the last time I brought it up I was told that I could find work elsewhere if I had an issue with company policy. One of the more common ones it that many jobs that require work on Sundays give a higher rate of pay for that day. The historical reason for that is because Sunday is the Sabbath, and if your company is going to force you to work on the holy day, then they’re going to value that time more highly (my company does an extra dollar an hour for Sunday hours.) But Sunday isn’t the Sabbath for Jews, and when I asked if I could be compensated for my time on MY day of rest, well, see above for the answer I got.
You can also look at the holiday situation. My company is open 357 days a year. Of the 8 days we are closed, one is for Christmas, one is for Easter and one is for New Years on the Christian calendar (It’s the Gregorian calendar after POPE Gregory). Most people don’t work Sundays, so there’s no pay for Easter, but Christmas and New Years are both paid holidays. But the Jewish New Year, which is a religious holiday, is not. Nor are any other Jewish holidays. And we have a lot, and many of them require that you not work if you’re religiously observant. Enough that most people would have to spend their entire allotment of PTO for the year, just to have off for religious observance. You could argue that Christmas and New Years and Easter are federal holidays, except Easter isn’t, and also at my company we aren’t given off for all federal holidays (we’re open for president’s day and MLK day and so on), so you actually kinda do have to defend why these made the cut. Also I’m still waiting for the reason why a Christian holiday is also a Federal holiday in a country that supposedly values the separation of Church and State.
Jews also feel this at school. In college I had a professor schedule a midterm on Yom Kippur – the holiest day on the Jewish calendar, and a holiday that is observed, in part, by not consuming any food or water for 25 hours. I asked if I could take the test on a different day, and my request was denied. I’m sure my school probably had someone I could have talked to about this but I didn’t know that at the time, so I felt like my options were come in to class on a holiday or take a 0% and screw over my grade for the semester. I chose to celebrate as best I could, and duck out of services for an hour and a half to take the test. The professor (in what I’m sure he thought was an act of kindness) had brought several barrels of apples, so that we could each have a snack while we tested. I almost committed murder that day (what, my blood sugar was low enough to be non-existent at that point and I was feeling pretty cranky). And like, I don’t think the professor was trying to be antisemitic. He was trying to be fair by making us all test at the same time, and kind by bringing us a snack. But in effect, he made life much harder for the one Jewish student in his class by refusing an easy accommodation.
And is not being accommodating to Jews antisemitic? Yeah, kinda? It sure feels that way when it seems like your only options are 1) things are shitty because people won’t accommodate you, 2) you have to work extra hard to figure out how to accommodate yourself, or 3) you can stop being Jewish and then everything suddenly is so much easier. Another really common example of this is getting invited to a party, and then none of the food is kosher. Your options are 1) go hungry, 2) bring enough food that’s kosher for yourself and everyone else (otherwise they might eat the kosher stuff and you’re back to 1), or 3) the problem goes away when you stop keeping kosher. And the reason I feel this is antisemitic is that the host is making the space unwelcoming to Jews – you can come, but you’re not gonna like it, so you might as well not come. 
The last thing I want to talk about is treating Jews as white. A person might think that this is a good thing, like it’s granting us access to white privilege, but in reality it’s ignoring our needs as a minority. Claiming that Jews are white ignores that some Ashkenazi and many non-Ashkenazi Jews are definitely not even close to white, and it downplays the real discrimination Jews face. Studies have proven that it’s harder to get hired with a Jewish sounding name, and an article recently came out that said the prosecution was deliberately excluding Jews from juries (this is illegal discrimination) because they were less likely to give the death penalty, as examples. And even for white-passing Jews, the Shoah was very much about how Jews were not white. That was a pretty significant part of the Nazi ideology.
And this becomes an even bigger problem when the people who should want to be allies – other minorities and their white allies deny us the ability to seek help from them. When we talk about the discrimination that we face, we’re very frequently ignored, or told that we’re white and that we don’t know what it’s really like. This is what the left is doing right now when it calls us “oppressors” or “colonizers” – it’s denying our history of being oppressed and our history of being colonized because some of us look like we came from Europe.
Anyway, if you’re still here (I know this is VERY long), I hope this was helpful in understanding some of the ways that antisemitism can be present in small things, from church sermons to pay rates to fairy tales. And I want to be clear, I’d much rather deal with the antisemitic implications of Hansel and Gretel than deal with people chanting “Jews will not replace us.” But in an ideal world, I wouldn’t have to deal with either.
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secret-diary-of-an-fa · 2 years ago
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You’re (Probably) Wrong About J.K. Rowling
So despite being a British person and writer with an adopted trans daughter (sort of), I never weighed in on the matter when British writer J.K. Rowling allegedly said a bunch of transphobic stuff. The reason I didn’t weigh in publicly was very simply this: I couldn’t find the tweet or statement that started it all- the root cause of people’s hatred. Everybody alluded to The Terrible Things J.K. said but nobody was super keen to say what those things actually were. Which naturally led me to suspect that the whole thing was storm-in-a-teacup bullshit- a notion that I also partially derived from the fact that Rowling is kind of a milquetoast who probably hasn’t had a strong opinion in her comfortably middle-class life. If somebody online claimed I’d said something offensive, I’d believe them, because I basically start a knife-fight every time I open my gob. But J.K.? Do me a favour. Of course, I didn’t look very hard to find out what J.K. said, because the other reason I didn’t comment was that I didn’t care all that much. I’m a grown man. My contact with the Harry Potter universe is nostalgically rewatching the films once in awhile and maybe, at some point, playing the new RPG that’s just come out, should I ever have videogame money again. It’s not like I’m super invested in that world on an emotional level, because I only have the normal number of fucks to give about wizard children and the people who chronicle their adventures. So, my plan was to just never mention any of this. And then I stumbled on the comment that started it all by pure fucking chance and it was… so dull and inoffensive that it actually amazed me to the point where I medically had to say something. Yeah. I am literally incapable of shutting my fucking mouth when someone does a stoopid, as it turns out.
“Dress however you please. Call yourself whatever you like. Sleep with any consenting adult who’ll have you. Live your best life in peace and security. But force women out of their jobs for stating sex is real?” (I think the implication of the question mark s ‘er, no thanks’, basically). And that’s it. Nothing even implying that trans women aren’t real women. Nothing suggesting that they shouldn’t be treated with respect. SEVERAL opening sentences reaffirming the rights of everyone to live how and AS WHO they like… and then a gentle reminder that physical sex is real and that some people have actually lost their jobs for saying so, which sucks, because you shouldn’t be fired for stating a biological fact (unless the biological fact is that you just shat yourself and you choose to share it, loudly, at an important shareholders meeting). That’s the whole thing. I mean, there are some follow up tweets about how physical sex-based oppression is a real thing and about how J.K. feels a bit hurt by the trans activist community for turning on women-born-women when they try to address that oppression in the employment sphere. But that’s it. Now, maybe she said worse things later down the line- but these are the tweets that got everybody to dogpile onto her and anything after that point has to be viewed in the context of a harassed writer getting increasingly fed up explaining herself to people who won’t shut the fuck up on the internet when she’d probably rather be doing literally anything else.
So yeah. That’s what everyone’s got their knickers in a twist about. And that’s really dumb. In a world full of genuinely hateful bigots, attacking someone for pointing out that biological sex is a real, separate issue to gender identity and that arseholes have gotten people fired over saying that seems… well, it seems like a waste of energy more than anything else. There are people out there who haven’t actually encountered the source of this lunacy and have just taken the word of Internet Peeps that J.K. is an awful person (‘cause getting to the bottom of shit is difficult and what’s a person to do? Not just parrot the last opinion they saw fart its way across social media?).
Look, folks, folkettes, moustachioed three-titted hermaphrodites and people who identify as attack helicopters (shout out to all my homies at the Rotary Blade Club), there’s a lesson here. And that lesson is that you shouldn’t believe someone’s good or bad because someone on the internet tells you they are. People on the internet are just people, and people almost never have the faintest fucking idea what they’re talking about. There’s also a really, worryingly high proportion of internet ‘personalities’ (so called because they don’t have any in real life) who like to stir shit for the sake of stirring shit. Sometimes these people are easy to spot, because they’re bugfuck-crazy right-wingers in tinfoil hats claiming that everything in the media is a plot to destroy traditional family values (the same ‘traditional family values’ that caused women in the ‘50s to overdose on amphetamines to get the cleaning done and fathers to try and beat the gay out of their children). However, sometimes, the shit-stirrers are just a teeny, tiny bit smarter and will use the genuine disenfranchisement of a group to which they technically belong to cynically elicit sympathy for views that would be obvious bullshit if the person spouting them couldn’t claim to be oppressed. Rule of thumb: beware of anyone who wants you to believe that they have it tougher than the slave who had to clean the poop out of Abraham Lincoln’s chamber-pot hat (Fun “fact”: that’s why Honest Abe’s hat was so tall: he used it as an emergency latrine while travelling and it had to accommodate the prodigious length of his turds). Even if the person is right and they really do have it that tough, the fact that they’re prefacing what they’re about to say by EXPLAINING THAT TO YOU REALLY SLOWLY AND EMPHATICALLY should really be a red flag- a sign that they’re attempting to obfuscate the flimsiness of the actual point they’re about to queef out their face-hole. That’s not always the case (duh) but it should put you on your guard.
I can, and will, go further: I have never had opal fruit on me! Oh, hang on, that’s a line from A Bit of Fry and Laurie. What I meant to say was, I can, and will, go further: you really shouldn’t care to begin with if a creator has iffy opinions that in no way impact their work. You shouldn’t even care too much if they’ve actually done terrible shit. Because at the end of the day, the only part of them that’s relevant to you is the work they’ve created. T.S. Elliot was one of the greatest poets to have ever lived… but he was also a raving fascist. Lawrence Olivier was one of the greatest actors of his generations… but also a barely-functional alcoholic who delighted in fucking with his old Cambridge university in ways too baroque and specific to detail here. Frank Miller: amazing graphic novelist; protest-hater and all-round tosser. Don’t even get me started on all the shit Thompson and Bukowski got up to (though not together… I’d love to see that buddy movie, but it wouldn’t accurately reflect reality). There isn’t a composer in the whole world of prestigious, important classical music who wasn’t, on some deep level, a really fucked up person. Francis Bacon rates as one of the greatest artists ever to have been spat out by an uncaring world, but he also systematically ruined the lives of everyone around him, including himself. My point is that you can’t demand your art and media comes exclusively from good people… unless, of course, you’re comfortable exposing yourself to a pitifully small sliver of culture and starving your brain into grey fucking wallpaper paste. Trust me, if you have to seriously consider your options on that one, it’s alarmingly close already. Allow the personal and private failings of creators to be personal and private- even if the creator’s an egotist who keeps bringing it up in public. Accept that, for you, the work is what matters because YOU ARE NEVER GOING TO MEET THIS PERSON OR HAVE ANY IMPACT WHATSOEVER ON THEIR LIVES AND THEY ARE NEVER GOING TO MEET YOU OR HAVE ANY IMPACT ON YOU OUTSIDE THEIR WORK.
This has been a PSA from the Foundation of Terrible Bastards Making Good Art. As both a terrible person and a great writer, I now give you my permission to fuck off.
ADDITIONAL: Okay, so having posted this, I decided I was curious enough to check out JK Rowling’s twitter feed properly. And, to my amazement, I might have jumped the gun when I called her a milquetoast. She actually has some pretty strong opinions,,, but none of them seem to be about trans people in general. She had a go at Nicola Sturgeon for putting a PENIS-OWNING RAPIST OF WOMEN IN A WOMEN’S PRISON PURELY BECAUSE HE CLAIMED TO BE A WOMAN, but that’s not transphobia, is it? That’s an issue of protecting prisoners without penises from being raped by prisoners with penises. The whole ‘is Prisoner A trans or not’ issue is just obfuscation being used BY A RAPIST to get into a situation where they will have the opportunity to rape more people. While JK’s phrasing might leave something to be desired (if you’re the kind of person who needs every phrase to be padded to sooth your ego), “don’t let physically strong penis-owning rapists near vulnerable vagina-owners in an environment specifically designed to make escape impossible” shouldn’t be a controversial thing to say- and has less to do with trans rights than it does with just... common sense, I guess. Look, I’m neither a TERF nor a trans rights activist, though I know people who are both vulnerable women and people who are trans. I am the fucking Neutral Zone between the Federation and the Romulans here, but could we please all agree that miminising the risk of rape in prisons shouldn’t be controversial?
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snowstark · 5 years ago
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I'm so proud of you, sweetheart! I don't mind mental health updates because it lets me know that you're okay and I love you and I care about you and I want to know thst you're okay and hiw I can help if you're not. I'm very happy to hear that you're good and getting some self-care. Is there room on the 'Love Thyself, Wench' bandwagon???? I'm thinking of hopping there too👀👀
that- i- you’re so sweet ???? like, i had to wait a day to reply to this because i got so overwhelmed from the kindness DJDKSK thank you so much !!! i truly appreciate you :’) and come join me and we can pamper ourselves like qUEENS—just like how we deserve to be treated <3
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harryandmeghansussex · 2 years ago
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Episode 2.
Talking about back in his Mum's day in being physical harassing, but now it's very online. It is basically the hunter versus the prey.
Mama Doria! Nervous but calm and confident. "The last five years have been challenging yeah." before stating she's ready to have her voice heard that's for sure, a little bit of her experience as Meghan's Mom with teary eyes I thought. Bless her, I genuinely can't imagine having to watch the person you love most in the World face relentless abuse and know that nothing you can do can stop it.
Meghan has her Mama's smile and warmth for sure.
"Like he was the one."
Love that they have shown how much Megan did pre Harry. She had a full, fulfilling life.
Meghan talking about her neighbours being paid to put live cameras showing her garden and things, and how insular her life got fast.
Meghan and her Mama going back to her school 🥺 her letter at 11 to her Principal.
The advert change! And a childhood friend featuring lol, she's always been such a girls girl.
Meghan talking to about being a minority but not being treated as such until she went to the UK.
"as a parent, in hindsight, absolutely I would like to go back and have that kind of real conversation about how the World sees you."
And Meghan admitting she genuinely didn't think about how race would play a part in it.
Harry talking about the family viewing it as they had also gone through it, it's almost a rite of passage and not seeing any difference. Say "no comment" and why should Meghan get protected when their wives wasn't. Offt, when it was different from day 1.
The statement, followed by the experts talking was such a good choice and talking about how white the British media is.
The section of Harry talking about with the travelling he had done, the people he met, that he thought he had an understanding of racism, on unconscious bias but hearing Meghan talk, has changed that. It's obvious in some ways both he and Meghan were naive, in very different ways.
"My children, my son and my daughter are mixed race and I’m really proud of that. When my kids grow up and they look back at this moment and they turn to me and say, ‘what did you do in this moment?’ I want to be able to give them an answer.”
Him talking about the responsibility of bringing a small person into the World and doing everything you can to make the World a better place for them 🥺
Meghan's poem about being a child of divorce, the emotion in her eyes. And talking about being a daddy's girl, which makes his betrayal and constant talking out so much worse in my opinion.
"she had a whole life before she met H." Say it louder for the people at the back Abigail.
"I said to the police in Toronto if any other woman said to you right now I have six grown men sleeping in their cars, following me and I feel scared, would you say it was stalking?" And she was told yes but there was nothing they could do because of who she was dating...
When the death threat came, that's when she got security. Hearing from her security guard that it was the worst he's ever dealt with is huge.
Meghan's friends asking her if Harry was worth it...
Lolololololol Meghan admitting her hugging Kate on their first meeting was probably jarring. "I didn't realise a lot of the formality on the outside carries on to the inside."
Granny was the first senior member of the family Meghan met, resharing the curtsey to people. And that being the moment she realised it was a big deal. Eugenie, Jack and Fergie telling her she did great.
Harry talking about his family first meeting her and being impressed, and being surprised by her before joking it was surprise a ginger could land such a beautiful woman, such an intelligent woman. He thinks her being an American actress is what clouded judgement at the beginning. "This won't last..."
I like how they've woven the love story, in between their childhoods, the historians, their friends etc. The balance feels good?
Talking about The Tig 🤍 showcasing her work on suits and her activism.
H's heart telling him that she was the one he would spend the rest of his life with. And believing she was perfect for the "role" as well.
The proposal! Him popping champagne before proposing kind of gave the game away lol and him saying Guy had already moved over so he could hold him hostage. The blurry shot, oh very sweet.
They had a mini engagement party before people knew and everyone dressed in animal onesies!! H&M were penguins, because they mate for life.
Lindsay saying Meghan felt like they could take on the World. Oh the optimism then.
The data and historian's talking about nationalism, Britain leaving the EU while welcoming a black American to the mix was perfect timing for a storm.
With Meghan talking about "believing what she was told" that things would pass, it would get better, it's just for right at the beginning. Almost a promise that once they were married/once they got used to her, it would get better.
"no matter how good I was, they were still going to find a way to destroy me" hurts.
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twopoppies · 3 years ago
Note
After Harry’s better homes and gardens interview, I’ve taken some time to think about some of the things said and the reactions to it.
1) This discourse that’s become quite popular lately about queer people needing to be out, and how liberating it is to be out, is such a cishet and/or privileged narrative. I get so mad whenever people mention it.
First I think the background on why there is so much focus on coming out is a cishet thing. Coming out has become such a glorified thing. And I think the main reason for this is, it’s the part where cishets get to be apart of the experience. Now they have the knowledge of who or what another person identifies as and therefore gets to feel like they have the right to insert themselves in other peoples feelings.
Sexuality and identity is so personal. Being out in - let’s be realistic here - most cultures and countries, will mean you get in the best case scenario looked down upon and rejected from friends and family, and worst case you get abused, tortured and even killed. And before any person comes for me, yes I know there are people who get accepted by friends and family, most do not. And when we take a look into the celebrity world and the statements that have been made from and about queer people, we know that his industry has a reputation of looking down upon and excluding openly queer people.
Personally I’m actually kind of a fan of Harry not sharing his sexuality openly with the world. He does not owe anyone coming out especially after what he has been through such scrutiny from the public. Everything from his sex life to his fav colour has been discussed publicly. And even if he hadn’t had all of this public scrutiny he does not owe anyone a coming out, just consider how most of the world perceives queer people. Him getting to keep this part of himself to himself and the people closest to him is quite meaningful.
2) Harry’s self awareness
This has so many layers, but in all I think we can all learn a lot from Harry.
He shows how much he takes stock of where he is and how he can better himself. This, to me, has some roots from how reflective he is over every little thing he does. And you can see the fruits of his reflections, from his public performances and how he used to lose his breath when singing his solo in wmyb, to nailing it in front of a 100 000 people at Coachella. Or from how he sees he made his worst music when he’s trying to get a single to figuring out how he’s really good at bringing people together and create together with others.
He’s teaching us to learn from the past, live in the moment and plan for the future. This is where we can all learn so much from Harry.
3) Harry and Louis deciding to be good and stay humble on the x factor.
This part is not talked about enough. How from such a young age he decided part of his identity is to stay nice and humble towards everyone he comes across. Because he saw/heard how unfairly celebrities treated other people, and not wanting to be part of that. The biggest part I took away is how once again Harry is described as nothing but nice and an overall good human being.
4) The music industry
This part kills me. I know we’ve talked about this for ages, but hearing him actually confirm the cleanliness clause, and compare his own situation to the Britney documentary. How he and all the boys were dolls puppets, who had little control over where they could sit, talk or even how they could express themselves without repercussions.
5) Still just as domestic
This part in the article: “So he used lockdown to commit to being a better friend, son, brother. He pushed himself to confront things he hadn't brought up, had many long, honest chats. And like most people who found themselves suddenly very, very inside, he thought a lot about the idea of home—about belonging, peace, sanctuary. "I realized that that home feeling isn't something that you get from a house; it's more of an internal thing. You realize that when you stop for a minute," he said.”
Of course he had to bring up feeling home. And how throughout his discography he’s described his love as the feeling of home. Yes Harry we know you’re in love, you domestic little shit *affectionate*.
6) My takeaways
It was so nice to read a quite honest piece about Harry after such a long time. Something that feels real, and not so staged.
Harry having chosen better homes and gardens for this interview also seems very deliberate, in how he not only gets his message out to a bigger audience. Also it doesn’t seem like this magazine has any real connections to the music industry, so to me this feels a lot more free in the way Harry is able to express himself, without being subjected to questions related to eg. stunts.
I will say this to me it feels like Harry is sharing so much of himself, and given how he discussed how much he likes his privacy, this feels quite intimate, at least in a psychological way. I’m not sure how I feel about this, as I’ve seen way to many fans feel entitled to know everything there is to know about Harry.
I love how it takes us through the journey on how Harry came to make this album and some of his feeling behind the album.
As I said we can all learn something from Harry, if it is to reflect over your situation and do something about it, instead of blaming everything around you, take responsibility for the things you can do. Or to be more kind and loving to the people we surround overselves with. Or to appreciate the domestic feelings.
P.S. Gina, I love your fic recs and how reflective and intelligent you are. I would love to hear your thoughts on this, but please don’t feel pressured to answering me/posting this. Sending you lots of love!
Hi darling. Thank you so much for this. I wish I had thoughts that improved upon or added to it, but I just completely agree with you. It’s the best interview with him I think I’ve ever read.
212 notes · View notes
alluringjae · 4 years ago
Text
all i do is wait - kdy
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All I Do Is Wait | So Close
⤑ summary: one day, kim doyoung was alive. the next, he wasn’t. he left you and the world too soon, but he made a promise: to look out and wait for you until the very end.
⤑ pairing: doyoung x female reader
⤑ word count: 22.7k
⤑ genre: angst (so much longing), major slow burn, fluff (if you squint really well), slight unprotected smut (not my forté) | ghost!doyoung, hotel del luna!au,  slight college!au, 40s to 90s!au (loads of flashbacks)
⤑ warnings: death, grief, explicit language, sexism (screw the patriarchy omfg), mentions and scenes of alcohol, drinking, smoking, war, unplanned pregnancy, childbirth, and abortion, ghost possession of humans (in like one scene only tbh)
⤑ playlist: fly away with me by nct 127 | all about you by taeyeon | doll by baekhyun and doyoung | give you my heart by iu | wait by exo | like a fool by nive and sam kim | falling by harry styles | lovers by anna of the north | fallingforyou by the 1975 | you are the sunshine of my life by stevie wonder
⤑ long author’s note: minors, beware of the warnings! i highly recommend you watch the kdrama beforehand so you would understand the universe, even if majority of the characters are from my imagination. i also did some prior historical research. though there are inaccuracies, this story is just fiction. importantly, i don’t own the hotel del luna series; they serve as the main inspiration but with some of my twists. i’m also bit rough with writing lately, so there’s also room for improvement. overall, prepare your heart.
i cried so much in the process.
italicized texts symbolize conversations in a dream call. *wink* *wink*
⤑ gif above not mine, ctto!  leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!
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After all decades of waiting, it’s finally time.
As a soul still wandering in the living world, Doyoung’s options were limited. To peacefully go ahead into the afterlife or wait for his lover by working in the hotel for ghosts until she passed.
He’d chosen the latter, the betrayal he felt from the deities to have gone so soon.
And leave you behind.
But first, let’s take a trip down Doyoung’s journey; life, death, and after it.
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1948
Kim Doyoung came from a well-off family. He was a university student, taking up journalism as a pre-law course. He wanted to right the wrongs and let justice prevail. Blessed by his privilege, he wanted to be of service to others who cannot afford it.
Both of you crossed paths at a university in Busan as seatmates. Right after the South Korean constitution granted women’s rights to education, immediately you aimed high and applied for the top universities in the city. After being homeschooled and self-studying under the books, the opportunity to go to an actual school was like a dream come true especially when you received acceptance letters from all of them.
Your first impression of him was that he was moody and quite snobby. When you politely asked him once if you can take a peek at his notes because you lost track of the professor’s lecture, he refused with an annoyed glare.
“You should try harder then.” You nodded in gratitude anyways, taking those words to encourage you. Though it still stung.
When classes that day concluded, you were so ready to return to the women’s dorm and take a breather from men. Since you were far from your village, maybe you would give a call to your father, your mentor all your life to seek his guidance on your professors’ lessons. Once you found your bike and placing your books on the basket in front, a light tap on your shoulder caught you off-guard and almost made you topple over.
“Oh, sh-”
“Oh my, I’m sorry for scaring you like that.”
When you directed your body to the source, it was none other than Kim Doyoung. He removed his blazer from class, resting it on his arm. He wore these suspenders and leather loafers, sporting the rich, preppy boy look. His eyes looked softer, apologetic by the way he gave a slight pout.
“I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier. It was rude of me to shun you like that.”
Unfortunately, it was rare to find young men like him to own up to their mistakes When you’re the only woman in that class, the majority of the boys are either snickering with judgment at your presence.
“Women are only meant to stay at home.”
“She’s weak. She won’t last here with the deep, legal terminologies the professors use.” Those insults aren’t new to you.
Doyoung seemed like a plot twist in the social narrative. You were surprised, to say the least, yet relieved.
“Oh, it’s okay. Considering I interrupted you from listening to the professor, I could’ve waited after class or as you said, study harder.” You accepted.
Doyoung still felt awful for his attitude, fiddling his briefcase. He struggled to express himself through words, understanding why many had this impression of him being cold. If he were to be honest, his actual initial impression of you was that you were hardworking and resilient, setting a new example of the modern woman. He thought that being too soft on you in class may look degrading, thus his statement from the class was just him treating you the same way as other boys who don’t study hard enough. Unfortunately, it backfired completely.
As a man who grew up with the belief to always pay respect to everyone without discrimination, he had to make it up to you somehow.
“It’s still wrong of me to say that to you, (Y/N). So-” He trailed on, opening his case to bring out one of his notebooks. Without hesitating, he handed it to you. “I took as many notes from the lecture on fallacies here. If there’s any way I can help you in the future, I’m more than willing to help you.”
This newfound kindness from a boy in this patriarchal university may be the silver lining in your current stay. You weren’t too sure if you would get a chance like this in the coming years, so you gladly took it. Noticing the engraved “K.DY” on the lower right side of it, which were his initials, it’s easy to identify that he was rich. But his attitude was different than the others.
Placing it carefully in the front basket, you steadied your body to the handles and pedals of the bike. “Thank you for this, Doyoung. I will return it to you as soon as possible.”
Knowing he was of help to you, he flashed a gummy smile. “No problem, (Y/N). If you want, we can review it before class too just in case the professor gives another surprise quiz.”
You let out a laugh, being reminded of your horrified face on a previous surprise quiz in the past. “Oh god, I flunked that quiz! Damn him.”
Ever since that conversation, it’s where your friendship started.
Going to university became more enjoyable and less daunting, having Doyoung defend you from other boys (even if you’ve told him so many times that you can handle it). After you found out that Doyoung’s status was more elite than you assumed, a lot of boys wouldn’t want to try and test him since their family lines would be at risk. You had a better focus on your academics, and if it weren’t for you, other girls attending university with you would’ve never thought women students would befriend the men. You were the shift in the narrative.
As lucky as you are to have a female support system in the patriarchal university, you found yourself always hanging out with Doyoung. He was filled with so much compassion in his heart and there were beliefs that you both surprisingly shared in your conservative society, deepening your bond. One of them was the sexist view of women as low-status people. He told you one time that thinking that way is like thinking his loving mother is undeserving of things in life. It’s an unacceptable concept, he added. You even met his mother at some point, and she’s a sweetheart.
Another was having the frustration towards those who shame on women who want to study and learn rather than to submit to the power of men so early in their lives.
“I’m so sick of people telling me to stop studying and settle down with some random boy. There’s just so much to learn out here!” You complained. It was one hot weekend that time, and you were both relaxing under the shade of a big tree by a flowing river. That spot is hidden, thus claiming it as your spot. Doyoung leaned by the tree reading while you rested on his lap. At this point, you’ve grown very comfortable with him. Doyoung sighed, putting his book to discuss his thoughts.
“Agreed. You seriously deserve so much better, (Y/N). People today just don’t get it.”
Huffing away that stress, your head tilted to get a better view of Doyoung.
“Doyoung, do you think things will get better for women in the future?” He admired your hopefulness in times of trouble. Stroking your hair to soothe you, he gave a positive reply.
“If we keep fighting for it, then we’ll progress. So let’s not give up, okay?” Your heart couldn’t help but leap.
As he looked at you with blooming flowers from the tree in the background, it was a matter of time where your initial feelings for him diverted into something more. The concept of butterflies in your stomach was only introduced to Doyoung in novels, but he wondered if it’s the exact feeling he was getting from you. From your intelligence to your sharp tongue to fight back the rude boys, the list goes on all the traits that he liked about you.
Weeks later, the questionable status of your friendship changed after he unexpectedly kissed you for the first time while stargazing at your special spot. It caught you off guard at first as your lips froze, him pulling away immediately. He rubbed the nape of his neck out of embarrassment, struggling to maintain eye contact with you.
“Oh shit. I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I screwed up everything, didn’t I?”
As much as the heat in your cheeks increased, you couldn’t deny that you liked it. You’re bold enough to do it again.
“Nope,” you shook your head at him. “Kiss me again, Doyoung.”
Like a movie, the first snow of the season drizzled down on the two of you.
Feeling braver, he leaned forward again to meet your lips again. You may not be experienced physically since it was your first, but that’s what all those romance novels you’ve browsed through are for. Forget the fireworks, people would compare the ideal kiss. It was more like everything paused so this moment can run on its momentum. Lips still locked, Doyoung gripped your waist so you can sit on his lap. As the friction intensified, his lungs needed to breathe for a second. Pulling away slowly, it was an opportunity to take a good look at you. Flustered, messy hair, swollen lips, he would’ve never known that the feelings were mutual.
“First kiss under the first snow? I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
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1950
Dating Doyoung gave you the best two years of your life. He’d bike with you to your spot, recommend you new books to read, cook for you when you’re too lazy to at the dorm, and take you around the city he was ever so familiar with.
“Oh c’mon, let’s try this out!”
You dragged his arm to this new contraption that can take your photos in a flash. This was at an annual city fair, your first time to attend one. Because your small village couldn’t cater to these kinds of events, you beamed with excitement with all the amusement outlets such as rides, games and more. All Doyoung wanted was to eat and play few games, then return. He wasn’t much for photos, but because it was your first, he decided to go for it. Two people couldn’t fit the cushion, so you settled on his lap. One arm wrapped behind his neck, you inserted a few coins to activate the machine.
“So we have a few seconds before it starts, so you better smile, okay?” He ordered you based on the instructions of the machine.
The first shot was matching grins, the second showed your bright smiles, the third let your creativity wild with silly expressions, and the last was him pecking your cheek unexpectedly. The authentic surprise was captured.
“Let’s take another one so you can have a copy.” You insisted, searching through the small pockets of your purse for more coins.
“(Y/N), it’s okay. I don’t want-” He was cut off by the machine activating again as your coins entered inside.
“Too late, smile!” The first shot almost caught Doyoung in a frenzy, but he pulled it off with an open smile. The second expressed your laughter from your slyness, him sporting crinkled eyes when you let your tongue out and placed your hands near the temples of your head to mock him. To sort out your playfulness, Doyoung surprised you by grabbing your wrists to place them back on his shoulders. Without a breath, one free hand tugged you closer and his lips shut you up. You deepened your kiss by leaning forward and fisting the hems of his buttoned-up top. Kissing back was natural, not caring where you were and if the camera snapped your moment of intimacy. Doyoung always liked taming you with his kisses. You didn’t mind making out for a bit in the booth if it weren’t for the loud knocking from the side put a stop to your risqué antics.
“Yah! Take your making out session someplace, other people are waiting outside!”
The both of you could care less, laughing mid-kissing at the disturbance you’ve caused. It’s a thing when you’re young and in love, perhaps. Eventually, innocent kisses ignited an invitation to his bed.
“I’ve never done this before, but I want to do it with you.” You gave your full consent, laying on his soft bed in your undergarments. His entire family went on vacation, so you took advantage of it.
The way he crawled on top of you, his slender hands spreading your legs wide open like another novel waiting to be unraveled. Erotica was a genre you never explored, but Doyoung finds it as his guilty pleasure. Who would’ve known that the most prestigious, gentleman-like man of the university found amusement in sex? His lingering touches intoxicated your entirety, allowing him access. His tongue did you wonders, releasing these sensations you’ve never known was possible. Tugging on his hair as he passionately devoured your core for the first time, this knot in your core unwound and your vision went white for a split second. This rush of pleasure and exhaustion filled your veins, yet you craved more.
That night, giving each other your virginities, marked the first time you declared your love for each other.
Though there are times when dating wasn’t easy either, having prying eyes around you with judgment and the unavoidable stress from university, you’d sort things out in the end. After all, it’s in fights and arguments where you learn more about each other and grow from it.
If someone asked you to settle down already, Doyoung is the first candidate for your hand. You’ve sent letters to your parents talking about him and met his family.
“You’re the only girl who softens him up in this society of uptight men.” His mother whispered when you helped her wash the dishes after dinner.
As much light he brought to your life those two years being together, it turned into the worst and something questionable when the Korean war began.
You vividly remember the day Doyoung admitted to you his enlistment in the South Korean army. It was mandatory for men his age to serve. His dream to pursue law was to be put on hold, especially when schools were closing down. Though he’d try to confide with himself that serving in this war is another way to help his country, his nationalism outweighed his fear of death. Just as long as it brings them closer to a better tomorrow, he was willing.
Unfortunately for you, you were terrified shitless because again, it’s a war. If your childhood wasn’t enough to recall all those painful emotions from the past world war, you didn’t know what would. Being able to survive is a miracle, so there was no way you would let Doyoung go. The ignorance you gave towards him to protect your heart, moving to your aunt and uncle’s home in the same city after the university suspended classes since going back to the village was a big struggle.
So many villages have been bombed already, increasing your anxiety. All you hoped now was to be reunited with your family safely. It’s a good thing though they already left as soon as they could and are on their way to the city. One normal day while you were teaching your younger cousins how to read, there was a knock on the front door. Since your aunt was busy cooking dinner, you took charge to open it in hopes you’ll find your family on the other side.
However, it was none other than that someone you still couldn’t face just yet. He wore the familiar dark green uniform with black combat boots, his fluffy hair fully shaved even it’s covered by his hat. By the dirt on his face, he must’ve trained earlier that day. With a heavy backpack behind him, he’s on his way somewhere but you didn’t know where. You closed the door behind you so you can speak to him privately.
“What are you doing here, Doyoung? How did you find me?”
“I knew you didn’t want to talk for a while, so I gave you space. But today, I found out that I’m going to be stationed in Seoul tomorrow.”
Seoul was where most of the war was happening. Your heart was shattered.
“So I went to your dorm, but your roommate told me you moved out and gave me this address here.” He answered honestly with this new burden to top it off, not having the courage to look you in the eyes to avoid crying. “I needed to see you, (Y/N).”
“Doyoung,” within those times of separation, you re-evaluated if running away from him was the right choice. Even if he tried to convince you of the good things about being in the army, everything always comes at a price. War meant his life was uncertain daily. You just wanted him to yourself, to stay by your side, to help out in the war in other ways, but it would be selfish to stop him from his goals. So you gently embraced him, making him drop his bag to the side. With extreme fear comes your soft whimpers against his chest. Rather than running away so fast, you should’ve mustered all those remaining bits of courage to spend it with him. He must be feeling terrified too.
“I’m just scared for you. War doesn’t guarantee anything. Us surviving world war two is still miraculous.” Doyoung winced at your truthful words as he returned that embrace. There go his tears that he shed almost every night since he told you about his enlistment.
“I had no choice, (Y/N). My family and I would be in big trouble if I didn’t follow orders.”
“I know. I’m sorry I ran away, Doyoung.” You continued to sob as you feel him stroke your hair from behind. He knew well that it was one way to calm you down.
“If only we didn’t live in harsh times like this.” He sighed, longing for the same thing. He cursed whoever decided to make him exist during a painful time. He would trade anything for a more peaceful life.
“Stay here for the night, please.” You pleaded, not wanting to waste any more time.
Your relatives were aware of your relationship, allowing such a request. They trusted you enough to sleep in the same room, knowing all too well the struggles of being love during times like this.
Neither of you held back from the tension that crept into the room. This time, you led him through the first kiss while his body laid flat on the cushion bed. On top, straddling him fully. Leaving him soft kisses on his neck while teasingly unbuttoning his pajama shirt, your fervent lips trailed from his neck, lowering to his sculpted abdomen, until you reached the waistband of his pajama pants.
Only in books did you learn about how to please men, so this may be the only time you can test it out. Doyoung stiffened on your soft kisses on his hard-clothed member, glancing him seductively back and forth when you stuck out your tongue.
“Please,” He begged, tugging on your hair. “Touch me.”
Your lips wrapped around his tip before gently going lower to your limit, and slowly sucked on it back and forth. Whenever you’d want to catch a breathe, you’d lick the tip teasingly. Doyoung groaned, threading his fingers along with your hair. He’s so used to be a giver that receiving these sensations by you beats his hand. It was heavenly, yet so vulgar. The way you swallowed his cum rather than spitting it out even if the taste wasn’t favorable, you were too much in a daze to process how sudden he switched positions. While you sprawled devilishly under him, your fingers looping on his dog tag necklace to bring him lower for a kiss while feeling two of his fingers go under your panties to teasingly play with your slick.
“Don’t t-tease...” You stuttered, clenching at how fast he can get you stimulated with his fingers.
The whole night long was consumed with his body against yours, the wet sounds of deep thrusts and muffled moans praising each other. The following morning, your naked bodies remained entangled. He was still in deep slumber when your body clock alarms you to wake up. though you couldn’t move when he had his arm around you. The love marks on his chest that you’ve made were more exposed when the sunlight hits him, your fingers carefully trailing on it so he wouldn’t be startled. He needed all the rest he can get.
If only you can have mornings like this when war wasn’t in the equation.
Bidding goodbye was tough. Breakfast was too quiet, just like how he packed his remaining belongings and dressed back to his uniform. You watched him by the patio as he waited for the bus to pick him up. When one finally arrived, he turned around to face you once more. He understood that neither of you wanted to say anything. It would make things harder.
You had to stay strong for him because he was fighting the scarier people. But as he waved goodbye, this was your only exception. Just before he boarded the bus,
“Fuck it.” You mumbled to yourself, running to him as your life depended on it.
“(Y/N), what are you-” Doyoung stopped at his tracks, awaiting your sudden move. You shut him up by desperately placing your lips against his, having that a tiny sliver of hope that it won’t be your last. His hands cradled your face while your arms tangled behind his neck.
It wasn’t until the annoyed coughs from the bus driver stopped your actions. Patting your dress from crinkling, Doyoung left a kiss on your forehead.
“Wait for me, alright? I’ll be back before you know it.” He reassured you.
“Fight strong and stay alive, Doyoung. I’ll always be here for you.”
“I love you, (Y/N).” He caressed your cheek one last time, your hand cupping it.
“I love you too, Doyoung.”
Both of you made sure to write to each other, just anything to keep in touch from being apart.
Oh, if only you knew how long you’d have to wait before seeing each other again.
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1951
Doyoung was stationed in the infantry division, always staying prepared for the plans his side made and the active attacks started from the enemy side. He’s lost count of the number of times he’s gotten critically injured and knocked out, but he fought through it with his upcoming plans in mind. How he must fight for the country and stay alive to see the change. How he wanted to have a future with you when everything settles down. It was his motivation every time.
But it took one surprise attack many months later from the enemy side to take it all away. When one of the senior officers was shot, he shielded him without hesitation. All these firing bullets were shot on his back, his legs wobbling from the impact. Due to the non-stop bleeding and lack of urgent medical attention, he painfully lost his life while holding on to his officer.
“Please tell my lover that I love her and I’m sorry.”
Those were his last words before he took one final breath and flatlined.
Seconds later, his soul flowed outside his body and froze at the trippy feeling while witnessing different officers and people on the medic team mourn in front of his dead body. Taeyong, one of the people he befriended from the medic team, tried to wake him repeatedly.
“Doyoung, please don’t joke around. Wake up, please.”
Even if he knew it was hopeless, he did his best to the point his entire team had to pull him away from his best friend’s lifeless body.
“No, he needs to live! He has a family, big dreams, and a girl waiting back in Busan!” He sobbed in his chest. Out of all the people he tried to resuscitate, Doyoung was the first friend that he came across on this occasion. Doyoung ached at this vulnerable sight, wanting so badly to be by his side. With these surprise attacks, death is more prevalent than ever.
“Kim Doyoung?” An unfamiliar voice called for him from behind. He spun around to find one woman in war uniform, though he’s never encountered her in the field, and a man in all black.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Manwol, and he’s the grim reaper. I believe you just died a few minutes ago, correct?”
The truth was piercing to accept, glancing at his lifeless body on the side with Taeyong and another close friend he made, Jungwoo, crying his heart out.
“Are you going to take me already?” He asked.
“Unless you still have things you want to accomplish in the living world, then you can freely go to the other side.” The grim reaper answered monotonously, very much used to this question.
“From the looks of it, you have a lot you want to do still,” Manwol observed from afar, all too familiar with the feeling. “If you come with us, I can help you accomplish them.”
If something stayed with Doyoung until his last breath, it was his skepticism with the supernatural. He was unsure if he can trust them because according to the books, once you’re dead, that’s it. It’s up to the people around him to speak good or bad of him.
“You’re uncertain with our intentions, aren’t you?” Manwol easily read through his stoic expression. “You’ll be surprised with how many things can debunk from the books if you let us, Doyoung.”
For the first time, Doyoung had no clue what and where to go next. No one wrote a book on how to act like a cold, wandering soul. His dreams were limited, meaning he has to find new ones or tweak them a lot to make it possible. Despite her reserved nature, he figured that Manwol looked like someone who knows what she’s talking about. With the grim reaper he’s read in children’s books, he wasn’t as frightening as he was portrayed.
This was his last shot.
“Guide me, please.”
The car ride alone there was messy and bumpy since it was peak war season. He wasn’t the only person who lost their life that night and riding in the vehicle. He recognized a few of them. It was saddening to find the playful Donghyuck, his youngest companion, beside him.
“I sacrificed myself to protect two unarmed nurses in the medic tent when some enemy soldiers charged inside.”
Another was the wise Taeil, who was stationed by the barracks. He was one of the people in the front of in line for battle.
“I thought they were fooling with us, and then suddenly fired multiple attacks. I caught on to it quickly, but they still got me.”
Doyoung remembered all those times he used to ask for love advice from him when it grew hard to be far from you. But that advice is no longer useful when he’s further away from you. He was dead, you weren’t.
Once the three of them arrived at their destination, it was an inn that looked destroyed from the outside, but very organized on the inside. Donghyuck and Taeil decided already what they wanted to do before they cross the other side. Doyoung, on the other hand, was still contemplating.
Manwol knew well how to spot a heartbroken person, being one herself. She wasn’t one to interfere with these affairs, but maybe she’d make an exception. Seeing right through him, he lived a fruitful life. She saw his sacrifice, picking up on his last words being dedicated for you, his lover. He didn’t die in vain.
When the two men were off to follow their plans, Manwol took this chance to approach the downcast man again.
“Is something you holding you back from going…” She questioned, staying by his side for a moment. “…or a special someone?”
“I promised my lover to fight strong and to stay alive while she promised to keep waiting for me. But here I am. She has yet to know that I didn’t make it and I can’t bear to see her in utter pain.”
“Death during a war isn’t new, Doyoung. A lot of promises become broken.”
“But I had so much I wanted to do with her after, Manwol. I can’t just leave her yet, I want to stay by her side even if we can’t see each other physically.”
Based on the information Manwol received about Doyoung from the inn staff, it came to her attention that he was fond of books. Thus, it gave her an idea.
“Doyoung, you’re very similar to the staff here. They all have goals that take years to accomplish, so I gave them a job here.”
“What are you offering me then, Manwol?”
“I have a library here in dire need of a librarian. With your interest in books, would you like to take it? After all, I’m implying that you’d want to wait for your lover to make up for your broken promise.”
Doyoung can’t deny that she was wrong. This was where his journey at Manwol Inn (then became Hotel Del Luna) started. Time worked a little bit differently as a ghost, but it’ll be worth it until you return in his arms one day.
On the day you regrettably received the letter from the military about the tragedy, life has turned for the worst. Upon seeing a soldier by your front step, it was only an innocent habit to give him letters for Doyoung and receiving new ones. However, his hand halted you to hand over a military logo imprinted envelope addressed to you alongside his tidy military uniform other letters from Doyoung.
His last letters.
You had no courage to even complete reading it when the first few lines weren’t enough to taunt you. Nothing could prepare for this dreaded moment.
“We regret to inform you that a report from the war office has confirmed that Kim Doyoung was a casualty of the sudden attack of Seoul. this letter formally declares that he was killed in action....”
Dropping the god-forsaken letter in your hands, you instantly locked yourself in your room. Your parents, who picked it up to read, came running to your door and tediously knocking for you to open it. But you didn’t listen, the heartbreak being too grave.
You tried so hard to keep it together these past months. but this kind of grief resulted in your feeble figure pouring into a heap of salty tears and loud sobs. Your back against the wall smoothly slid down until your butt landed on the floor. You clutched on to your gut that continuously stabbed you back and forth.
Betrayal was an understatement, yet it was beyond his control. War guarantees nothing.
But not when you needed him more than ever, especially when the biggest yet most unexpected news came upon you. All nausea and wild mood swings in the weeks that followed after he left weren’t normal, only to find out that you were expecting his child.
It was a secret you didn’t know how to confront through letters because it was best to tell him in person. Due to the situation, it was impossible. Only in your latest letter did you finally come clean about it, but it was now never to be sent because he has already passed away. Your entire family wasn’t pleased with this outcome but they didn’t shame you for it either. It was your choice and body after all.
They were concerned about how others will perceive you in the long run. An unmarried woman carrying a dead man’s child is taboo in this conservative society. Yet abortion is seen in a bad light too. You were stuck in a double edge sword, but you knew from the beginning that you wanted to keep the child. It’s a struggle, for sure, and your plans will have to wait.
Amid this bad luck, this unborn child is the last closest piece of Doyoung.
Amongst your unavoidable flow of tears that you knew must be stopped so it wouldn’t badly affect your child, you placed a hand on top of your lower belly. There was already an evident swelling bump, but your choice to continue wearing loose clothing to swerve from the public’s judgment covered it fine.
Well, for now. Only in the last trimester, it was going to be a challenge.
“I’m sorry you won’t be meet your father....” You spoke, rubbing it upwards. “....But I’ll make sure to take good care of you. You’re all I have left of him.”
Ever since Doyoung accepted Manwol’s offer, he never left his spot at the library. He was amazed at the endless arrangements of books. Even the western books his parents banned him from reading as a child were there. All this entertainment can distract from the long time he has to wait.
Except for today specifically, he asked Jeno, a new friend he made who also lost his life during the Korean war, to take over for a few hours when he found out that mail was to be delivered in Busan.
“Hyung, are you sure?”
“I just need to see her, Jeno.”
Doyoung expected the heartache when he saw you cry in your bedroom after finding out, and he couldn’t refrain from crying with you. Even as a soul, he’d do anything to cradle you in his arms and say that things will get better in time. How he wanted to tell you to take your time in life and that he’s willing to wait until your time comes. Whenever it could be.
Sadly, he was right there listening to you talk to your unborn child. The disbelief of in his reaction; he was supposed to be a father. Sure, he was relatively young. People won’t approve of it because you were unmarried. But it was an early start to settling down with each other.
It took him a while to accept his unfortunate fate, but for him to be robbed of this meaningful part in life was more unbearable to deal with.
From that point, he made sure to watch over you even if he was invisible. Even if Manwol advised him not to so it won’t complicate anything, he reassured that he has it under control. As a ghost without any grudges, what’s there to throw a fit at? He could retaliate at the enemy soldiers who shot him fearlessly, but they are nowhere to be found and he had no interest to turn into ashes.
The only time he assisted you was when you were giving birth. It was an excruciating process, sweating and breathing intensely. You let a scream every time you pushed, like any of the herbs or medications you consumed were wearing off. Your body wanted to give up as it weakened at the loss of blood.
Childbirth is no joke, having high mortality rates during these times. It was a tempting choice you’d want to take as Doyoung is no longer alive. But you knew it was selfish to leave your child as an orphan.
Doyoung couldn’t withstand watching you struggle anymore. If there was a trick Manwol taught him, it was to possess people. It’s often portrayed as a negative skill, warning him to only use it when it’s an emergency.
The pitiful way your eyes were drained off energy, he had to step in. Observing the midwife panicking on your side even if she was giving you support, he took his chance to possess her. Adjusting to this body, it made him glad to feel your warm hand again.
“(Y/N), your child is almost here.” The doctor positively announced.
“I want a breather. The grim reaper should just take me.” You complained as your mother wiped the endless drops of sweat on your forehead. Doyoung took it to heart, knowing death firsthand was no joke.
“Yah, don’t say stuff like that, (Y/N). This child is bound to be an amazing addition to your life.”
You didn’t know how your timid midwife would straighten you up, but it motivated you a lot more to finish the process. Little did you know.
She gladly accepted your firm grips on her hand, giving affirmative responses to keep you going. In moments you closed your eyes to push, you couldn’t help notice in the corner of your eye how from the physique of your midwife, you swore you saw him. His hand holding yours instead of the midwife.
Was this in the medication? For a moment, you let a tear not from pain but from happiness to catch a glimpse of him in your weakest moment. Every day, you were missing him.
It took almost half an hour before a small set of wails bore in the room while you harshly threw yourself back in the bed to recover your breathing patterns. It knocked you out for a while. Doyoung, still possessing the midwife, was handed the newborn by the doctor and tasked to clean her up.
“It’s a healthy baby girl.” the doctor confirmed as he wiped away the blood on the floor.
He was then brought by your mother to a designated room to bathe the relaxed newborn in his arms.
His newborn.
His desire to phase out of the midwife and use his skill to be visible while holding his child was strong. But it’s too risky since the midwife can catch him. He sucked it up and proceeded in what the books taught him on bathing a baby. During his break time, he’d read all the parenting books he could find. It’ll be rare anyways for him to use the tips, but he always wanted to stay prepared.
As the bubbles of the soap surrounded the relaxed baby, he washed her delicately to avoid her from waking up. He was just mesmerized at how you and he created something so precious. He used to be the type of man to be awkward around kids, but after catering to many children in the library and now his child, it started to change.
“Hello there, little one. Your mother needs you, so you better be good to her.”
Ghosts were highly discouraged to make any more emotional connections with the living because they’ll just end up being hurt, making it harder to move on. Exactly what Doyoung is doing was that, and the more he bonded with his daughter, it was a rekindled kind of pain. The kind when you separate family from each other. The same one he felt when he bid his parents good-bye before joining the war, only to never come back.
To top this off, the tiny hand of his sleeping daughter, whom he finally dried off with a small towel and wrapped in a fresh blanket, sleepily grasped on his pinky finger. Technically, it was the midwife’s, but he was in control.
Nonetheless, the innocent gesture got him both feeling on top of the moon and disheartened at the same time. As he curled it in a silly manner, noticing the size difference, he leaned down to leave a kiss on top of her forehead.
“I’m sorry I’m going to miss out on your life. But I’ll always be here for you, even if I’m in the shadows. Don’t ever question my love for you. Because I do love you, wholeheartedly.”
Kim Areum.
That was the name you settled with when your daughter was finally in your arms. It’s ideal to give Doyoung’s last name too because she is half of him. After resting for quite a while, you noticed how the midwife suddenly shook her body and took a loud deep breath when she helped out cleaning the area up.
“Are you okay?” You question, noticing her state of confusion.
“Uhm, yeah....” She narrowed her eyes to her environment. “Oh wait, you gave birth already? Wow, that was pretty fast...”
“Yes, you were right beside me the whole time...” You glanced sideways at her, suspicious.
“Oh wow yeah, I was.” She tried to laugh it off. “It was like I had an out-of-this-world moment or something. Oh whatever, I sound stupid.”
That brought you back to your early doubts. Whether or not he showed up or you were somewhat hallucinating. But not wanting to reflect too much on the impossible, you merely refocused to the peaceful newborn nestled in your arms.
She’s the only one keeping you alive in these hard times. She served as a reminder of him, thus you’ll hold on to her. From the outside of your window, all Doyoung can do now is to continue watching from afar every once in a while.
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1954
Not much has changed in the past few years. You were either reading or taking care of Areum. Your family was lucky enough to have good housing, but getting important necessities such as water and food was a constant struggle.
With the war leading to lots of souls in the inn, he had to fulfill his mandatory orders to prepare souls to move on. He was joyful to be of service to others like he was back in the day.
Though lately, it’s still unavoidable for him to ponder how exactly are you and his daughter are doing. Once Donghyuck and Taeil went ahead for the afterlife, the loneliness began to creep in. Then a while ago, Jeno introduced him to a new group of children today checking out the library. Caught in a deadly car accident on their way home from school, he pitied how such bright kids left the world too soon.
These factors sparked his longing, plus there was still something above that: it was your birthday soon. Much to his luck, Manwol just received a new gift from the deities that might be his biggest help in coping.
“A dream call?” Doyoung inquired once he was summoned by Manwol to the meeting room, sitting across her.
“Yes, a call to anyone from the living that you wish to talk to in their dreams. Though this can only be used once per visitor. The deities pitied those with loved ones who want to see them physically. Thus, they invented this.”
“What are you implying?”
“Doyoung, you know well how easy I can read people even through their fake smiles. You miss her very much.” Manwol replied, holding up the phone to his ear. “This is your chance, Doyoung. Even if you can’t see them, they will see you.”
The first dream started with you sitting at your old spot by the river, in a simple dress Doyoung bought for you on your last ever birthday celebration with him. The forest looked breathtaking as if it was still pre-war times again. The river was still clear of blood and pollution. It must be spring, the flowers above you on the tree were in full bloom.
The sound of bike wheels stopping to park in the grass and someone humming changed your point of interest. There was the only person in your mind who would do that. Jumping from your seated position, you looked behind the other side of the tree only to find him picking up flowers from the branches. He was tall, not having much difficulty getting them.
The way he looked so peaceful and well-rested. This beauty and peace of mind he radiated, it was unreal.
“Doyoung.”
He clenched on the phone with his hand, his concealed yearning to at least hear his name on your lips again urged a tear to go down his cheek.
“Happy birthday, (Y/N).”
He handed you the flower bouquet he made for you. Meanwhile, he suddenly dropped it when you didn’t hesitate to sling your arms around his waist. Your head pressed to his chest, pulling him closer you could care less if you lost your breath. Doyoung felt that tight hug, gripping on the part of his uniform where you placed your head. He rubbed it as if it was your hair.
None of you spoke a word and gracefully paused to take a moment.
Time in a dream call works a bit differently than in the living world. Once you’re in session, one minute alone of talking is equivalent to 30 minutes in the living world.
Doyoung took his first call to catch up with you and say everything he never got to before. It was also where he confessed how he knew about your daughter. There were guilt and regret at how you could’ve told him in your earlier letters.
“You were scared, (Y/N). There’s no way I can blame you.” Laying against his chest, he comforted you. “By the way, she has your nose, you know.”
There was this wave of relief that splashed you after this big burden lifted. You can live a more untroubled life now.
“She has your temper though.” You jokingly say, putting you in a fit of giggles. It’s been too long since you experienced genuine humor.
“At age 3? Yah, I’m impressed.” He remarked with pride.
Since Doyoung wasn’t capable to be physically affectionate in the dreams, he was more on receiving them from you. In return, he gave sincere conversations even if they were a yearly thing. Talking about your daughter was one of your favorite topics. adolescence, teenage years, to university, there was so much to talk about. Doyoung would only use his dream calls on you on your birthday, making them more meaningful. Each one, you were both back to your twenties with different outfits and settings based on the differing decades.
“Don’t you feel burdened to wait for me?” You asked as his fingers brushed some of your hair back while you watched the sunset from a wooden bench.
“No, I’m not. there are still many things I want to fulfill before moving on. I also want to watch Areum grow up and help you in any possible. Only when these goals of mine and others are cleared, then I‘ll be able to rest well.”
“Will you be okay until then, Doyoung?”
“I broke a promise with you, (Y/N). and I want to make up for it.”
“What will you do when my time comes?” Your hand interlocked with his, squeezing it tight even if he couldn’t reciprocate it.
“I will shout out your name and hug you tight, my love. But until then, appreciate your life. Live it to its fullest. For me.”
Doyoung sensed your worry but comforted you that it’ll be okay. He wasn’t lying either when he said he wanted to do a lot of things too. Every dream call, his gut feelings were strong to know what you were going through in every call, giving you any advice to get you through them.
To count, he gave you almost 50 dream calls.
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The late 1950s-1960s
After returning to university to finish your undergraduate studies when the war ended, you continued to pursue law school and taking the exams as you’ve wanted. But this meant moving to Seoul for better opportunities.
Doyoung celebrated with himself when he found out, not having to take the bus or ride the hotel car to Busan every time he wanted to see you two. Now, he could simply walk back and forth, managing it with his shifts.
Currently, he was taking a break in his office. The deities gifted him with a bunch of murder mystery books from the West, fully immersed in the storylines. Leaning backward from his chair, he was abruptly disconnected by a knock on his open door.
“Hyung, you have a special visitor in the lobby.” Jeno urgently informed Doyoung as he leaned on the side of his office door, out of breath. “It’s quite important if you ask me.”
Doyoung removed his reading glasses and put down his novel. Putting back his blazer on, he approached his younger friend and made their way down the hallway together hastily.
“Is it a family member who’s passed?” He questioned, slightly folding his blazer sleeves then adjusting the hotel pin on his chest pocket. By the tone Jeno spoke, it must’ve been serious. Although there’s no way it can be you just yet, he has no idea who was looking for him then.
The lobby was bustling with numerous souls. Some still fresh, some just roaming around, while others were preparing to pass the other side. Nothing new to it, until Jeno pointed out a specific scene in one corner of the room.
“Hyung, over there.”
Like an obedient puppy, Doyoung looked over to where Jeno’s finger directed. At first glance, by her long black hair, he recognized Manwol, who was kneeling in front of someone seated. It wasn’t until she stood up and shifted her body to the side to reveal that someone, patting her young head kindly.
She wore a ribbon on her hair, matching with the colors of her floral dress while carefully holding on to a piece of paper with her drawing. Due to the distance, he couldn’t make out what she drew. Though with her dazzling eye smile formed by her small eyes, he knew her too well.
“Areum.”
Right on cue, the young girl caught his entrancing gaze. With the widest smile, she exclaimed “Daddy!”
Manwol, who was right beside her, held her hand and graced their way to Doyoung and Jeno. The two knew she despised children, ordering them to keep a keener eye on them when they wander around so they don’t access the hallway leading to her office. Unexpectedly, Areum didn’t burden her the slightest. She brought a different aura, a very pure and full of love kind.
With the full moon shining at its peak, becoming present to the eyes of the living, she must’ve spotted the hotel from afar and her interest grew wild for it. Typical for girls her age. Not afraid of the risks, she followed any directions to get here. Coincidentally, she encountered Manwol in the front gate.
Manwol recognized her straight away, even when she glimpsed the drawing of her family she treasured in her chest. She still included her father, whom she was very much acquainted with. Though, she was puzzled by her sudden appearance. When Areum explained that her father lived in the hotel according to your stories, her heart fell to her gut. Indeed, she was right, but again, ghosts are discouraged to have connections with the living or anything related to it. However, her strong senses couldn’t disregard how much Doyoung yearned for his family. Lately, his only daughter when numerous children arrived at the hotel. He didn’t want to voice it out however because the other staff shared the same sentiments, so it would be insensitive so he just kept it to himself. But Manwol sensed it all too well.
She won’t tell anyone this, but she has quite a soft spot for Doyoung. She empathized with him the most since he came to the hotel, willing to do what it takes to make his coping and waiting worthwhile. She was still brash at times, but only when necessary.
Areum’s presence didn’t seem to harm anyone, charming anyone around with a smile and her words. Especially that smile, it shows enough of how much she’s Doyoung’s daughter. With a rough internal debate, Manwol welcomed her inside the magical hotel Areum described it as and tasked Jeno to call for Doyoung. It was a risk, but a needed one.
With Manwol innocently holding the young girl’s hand, she looked her down and asked her, “Is that your father from your drawing, Areum?”
Areum lit up as she tilted her head upwards to see her tall father, nodding proudly. “Yes, that’s him! The one my mom talks about in her dreams too!”
Doyoung’s heart swelled at her pride for him, not hesitating to kneel to her height. Arms wide open, he loudly called her out for the first time. “Areum!”
The young girl, letting go of Manwol’s hand, ran as fast as her short legs could like nothing can stop her, even if the lobby was packed. Soon enough, she’s at the grasp of her father, carrying and hugging her in circles. Light as a feather, he took in her scent and warmth. The racing beat of her heart pulsated against his chest, reminding how much life she’s filled with. It was liberating that she found him, even when he stood behind the dark shadows.
Once he put her back down, “What brings you here, Areum? Isn’t it past your bedtime already?”
She pouted, sulking at disobeying your rules. “I know, but as soon as I was ready for bed, I saw the hotel in bright lights just like mommy described. She said that only during the peak full moon it’ll be shown to very special people who are alive, and it turns out that I’m one of them, daddy.”
Hearing that title from her lips was something he would’ve never get sick of. He felt the validity more than ever.
The odds of being a human spotting the hotel during peak full moon was rare, earning perplexed looks by those who don’t see it. Doyoung never encountered a human waltzing in the hotel out of the bloom, so for his daughter to have this mystical ability was a gift in disguise. Maybe the deities knew how to cut off some slack and agony for wandering souls. This was an excuse to stop cursing them now and then.
“Wow, aren’t you a lucky girl for that?” Jeno, whom he forgot was by his side, patted her head similarly to Manwol. “Your father missed you dearly, you know?”
“Well, Mr. Jeno,” She picked up his name from his nametag. “I missed him too.”
Doyoung processed the features of the angelic girl in front of him, astonished at how you and he created someone so cheerful during a time of trouble. Aside from her eye smile, she had his gummy smile and curiosity, while she inherited your nose and intelligence. Cupping her chubby cheek, he pinched it with a cute sound effect from his mouth.
“Daddy!” She protested, slapping his hand away and dramatically covered her reddening cheek. “Not allowed to that, ever.”
Oh, you weren’t joking when you said she had his temper too.
Before he could defend himself, Manwol reentered their interaction. Like common sense, Doyoung got back on his feet but helplessly giving side glances to his daughter. Manwol giggled at his sudden formality before instructing Jeno to lead Areum to the carnival room. As Areum waves him goodbye for the meantime, Manwol added on.
“There’s a rise of kids checking in the hotel, unfortunately, so I wholeheartedly requested the deities to create an area dedicated for child-like fun. Just today, it’s finished in construction so it’s a great place for Areum to explore.”
“Manwol, I-” He was feeling overwhelmed, stumbling his words. “Why did you this for me?”
“You used your dream calls for (Y/N), but there’s never been a way for you to reach out to your daughter. And the way her glimmering eyes wanted to come in when she shouldn’t, I couldn’t refuse a chance for the two to reunite.”
“But what about the deities?”
“I’ll handle it. What matters is that you have tonight to spend with Areum. It’s the least thing I could do as you are one of my beloved staff,” She reassured, yet looked at him in a downcast manner. “But as much as possible, everything tonight must feel like a vivid dream to her. She’s not allowed to keep any knick-knacks from tonight either.”
Everything always came at a price. Doyoung was acquainted well enough, but he can’t lie to say that I didn’t ache. Nonetheless, Manwol having such a selfless side was completely new to him. That’s why he never asked for favors like the other staff since he’ll just get turned down or scolded like a child. Maybe she wasn’t as scary as to how they labeled her all these years he’s worked for her.
Manwol took Doyoung’s silence under the impression of internal conflict. In true Manwol fashion, she clapped her hands right in front of his visage, snatching him back to reality. “You’re wasting time, Doyoung! Don’t think about it too much right now. Now come on and dress up more casually, your daughter is waiting for you.”
Following her order, he bowed respectfully before zooming to his hotel room. She was right, he has to enjoy whatever is given. Demanding for more when you’re already dead is disrespectful to the eyes of the deities, considering that alongside your past life when you step into the afterlife.
From his uniform, he changed into a white long sleeve buttoned-up, which was layered under a lilac knit sweater, and black trousers. He styled his hair in a dandier way, applying gel then combing it upwards. He was only following the trends of the decade, basing it on the recently checked-in souls. Deities must’ve liked him a lot to give him a lot of gifts from time to time, making him completely disregard the money from the living world Manwol gives during his off days. Most of the time, his off days are spent either secretly observing you and your daughter, or reading more books in the library.
This one was like a change of scenery, his heart pumping once he exited to the elevator and rushed to the carnival room. And just as he entered the doors, the wave of nostalgia hit him instantaneously. It felt like he was in university again, bringing you around the bizarre contraptions and games for the first time for your amusement. A spark in your romance, so full of young love and naivety of what was to come.
He spotted his young girl wrapped around in the arms of Jeno, explaining to her about the wide range of rides as she licked on a rainbow lollipop. Once he showed up to the both of them, Jeno cautiously put her down so she can hold Doyoung’s hand.
“You deserve this, hyung. Make it worthwhile.” Jeno placed his hand on his older friend’s shoulder before leaving the room. Keeping it in mind, Doyoung kneeled again in front of his daughter. Her smiles were contagious, fascinated by everything she’s surrounded in.
“I’ve never seen anything like this, daddy.” That line sounded familiar, chuckling at the precious memory.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s have fun tonight!”
The bliss in tonight was never-ending, like the two of them were in their own world. Areum wanted to ride on a horse in a carousel first, which Doyoung agreed to. Lifting her, he held her by the waist as the ride started to go. She pointed out every object that she can see while Doyoung avidly listened, then telling her what each ride and game consists of in return.
Once they got off, her short legs scurried off to the game booth where rows of bottles were laid in front of her. Right beside her were the rings. Doyoung properly described the instructions, and on the dot, Areum went ham and started throwing the rings in random directions. By the way, her eyebrows furrowed and her lips pursed, her competitive side was evident. Doyoung observed as she either hit or miss, finding another trait of his in her.
You’d find it hard to believe, but she would’ve been a total daddy’s girl.
To her success, she squealed victoriously as she won and hugged her dad. One of the staff in charge rewarded her with new candy to munch on, and off she went to look for the next attraction to divulge in. Doyoung struggled a little catching up to her, but anything he would do for his daughter.
From a one on one balloon dart game, which Doyoung willingly let Areum won because she’s a fussy one, roaming through a mini house of mirrors, riding the indoor Ferris wheel, and many more, Areum was ready to move to the next venue after telling her father that she wanted him to read to her.
“Mommy said you’re a librarian here because you like reading. I like it too, can you take me there?”
Just like you, he was charmed by his daughter. “Alright, Areum. Let’s go there then.”
Before they made it through past the wide doors with the bright red sign above saying “Exit”, Areum’s attention was distracted by a black kiosk near the Ferris wheel. She followed her gut, changing her direction. Doyoung quickly followed her footsteps, only to turn up in front of a photo booth.
“Wow, are these where you can take instant pictures, daddy?”
Waves of nostalgia hit Doyoung as if he were on the beach, totally unprepared for the emotional impact. With Areum, he missed your presence more than ever. Having you there completed your family, and it could’ve been quite a reunion.
“Yes, Areum. How about you go inside and daddy will insert some coins so you can have your pictures taken?”
“But daddy, I want to take pictures with you! It’s only mommy that has pictures with you, and I don’t want to feel left out.” She threw a tantrum, crossing her arms.
Here she goes again, making it difficult for Doyoung to refuse. Even with Manwol only giving him one rule to follow for the night, he doesn’t want any bad memories to be made with his daughter. He’ll have to work it out one way or another later. In the meantime, he smirked before carried her out of the blue inside the booth. Her shrieks increased in volume, only softening after she settled on her father’s lap. Doyoung inserts a few coins, and swiftly enough, the contraption started to operate.
“Okay Areum, one photo strip has 4 solo photos in it. 4 smiles or poses, okay? You’re going to look at the lens there, in the shape of a circle. Then, the flash is going to show in 3, 2-” Right on time, the two smiled.
They had less than 10 seconds until the second shot, so the two pulled random funny expressions. Doyoung pouted his lips, while Areum stuck out her tongue. For the third photo, Doyoung kissed the top of her head while Areum poked her cheeks with her fingers. Lastly, Areum instructed her father to lower his head to her level so she can peck his cheek. His shock was perfectly taken, filling his heart with adoration.
Areum hating getting affection but loves giving it? Another trait of his.
The look of amazement Areum gave once she stepped foot on the endless library was priceless. She described how it was bigger than the national library in Seoul. While she strolled around the near shelves, Jeno, taking over his night shift, approached him with a bottled treat. But it wasn’t just a normal one.
“Manwol and I overheard that she liked strawberry milk, so Manwol told me to give it to you. It has the dream spell potion from Johnny’s bar mixed with flowers from the deities so she can’t see ghosts or the hotel anymore. Make sure she drinks it before she leaves this place.”
While Areum settles on the small couch with her chosen books, she patiently anticipated for her father to read to her before her yawning takes over her. She never tracked the time, but she’s gone way beyond her average curfew.
“Sleepy already, sweetheart?” Doyoung asked as he sat beside her, inspecting her drowsy state.
Areum shook her head, displaying all the books she got on the table in front of her. “Nope! Not until you read me a bedtime story.”
Doyoung scanned through her book selection, amazed by her choices. The Little Prince, Winnie the Pooh, Goodnight Moon, and a bunch of Madeline books from the series, he couldn’t decide! If only he could read them all for her.
A lot of those books he read growing up, and the same goes for you. Especially Madeline, which he discovered through you as one of your childhood favorites. By instinct, he chose the first book from the series, simply entitled “Madeline”.
“This one.” He patted his lap so she could sit on it, which she did without wasting a breath.
It was ironic for a librarian to have never read aloud for anyone during his stay. Maybe because no one asked him to nor he wasn’t into reading aloud. He preferred reading to himself, only helping those looking for specific books or recommending if anyone has a favorite genre. Maybe he’ll give it a shot now. This first-hand experience opened his eyes to a new type of intimacy, hearing the adorable reactions from his daughter as he read the life of Madeline in Paris.
“In the middle of one night, Miss Clavel turned on her light and said, “Something is not right!”.” Doyoung flipped the next page. “Little Madeline sat in bed, cried and cried-”
“She cried to get attention, huh?” Areum commented mid-reading.
“Areum, if she didn’t, she could get even sicker. We don’t want that, right?”
“If I cried like that, would that be enough to bring you back to me and mommy, daddy?” She wholesomely questioned, twisting her body weight so she could face him. “Mommy already has a way to reach to you, and I want something like that too”
Doyoung knew she was a smart girl, but she often denies the reality of some things. In this case, her father’s passing still hasn’t hit her, even if she possessed the mystical skill to see ghosts and the hotel. Doyoung felt cornered, so before he could think of a reply, he kindly asks her,
“Hmm, what do you have in mind, sweetheart?”
“Well,” She pouted as she fidgeted with her index fingers. “I read all your old letters to mommy, so maybe I can write you one every year.”
“What a great idea, sweetheart!” He cheered. “How will you give it?”
“Uh..” She paused to think, then a bright idea came to her. “During your birthday, daddy! Mommy and I still celebrate it if you don’t know, so I can offer it alongside the food.”
Doyoung played along, knowing that tradition of yours. Although it still aches him to show up on his death anniversary, he compromised by showing up on his birthday. He’d see his and your families celebrating, talking about the positive and fun things about him in his life. He observed his daughter a little more later when she got older and started talking. Whenever you praised him for something, there was hope and inspiration in her young eyes. It’s uplifting to discover that his legacy was seen in a good light. He’d never wanted to be seen as a bad guy to anyone.
“I’ll look forward to it, sweetheart. Promise?” He stuck out his pinky to her, getting curled in response by hers.
“Promise!”
Both of them chuckled, appreciating the moment. His long arms embraced her from the back, nuzzling his head on his shoulder. How blessed to have a daughter like her, but from a glance, the bottle of strawberry milk situated beside the pile of books gave a remembrance of one of his remaining tasks. It had to be done, but he hoped she won’t at least forget to write to him.
“Look! Miss Manwol wanted to give this to you.” He handed it to her.
Ecstatic, she cranked open the bottle cap and took tiny sips of it. “It’s so good, daddy!”
Doyoung softly laughed as excess milk drops dribbled in her lips, wiping it with his thumb. “Aigoo, you messy girl. Let’s continue, shall we?”
Cozying up to him again, Doyoung resumed his storytelling. Once he said the words, “The end.”, the small head of his daughter completely leaned against his chest. Snuggling for more comfort, he checked her current condition. Knocked out like a light, he puts the book down and cradled her for a second. The last time he did something like this was when she was born. She was tiny then, and now, she’s bound to outgrow his lap sooner or later.
This was his sign to bring her home.
He boosted her small figure, her head now planted on his shoulder and his hand resting behind the nape of her neck. Her legs were entangled in his torso when he showed up at the lobby again. It was much more serene, everyone checked in already.
“Aigoo, fast asleep already?” Manwol made an appearance without warning, alongside her personal driver Yuta and the bartender Johnny.
“As expected from my magic.” Johnny commended himself, stretching his fingers. That easily gave him a slap from Yuta.
“Can’t you be more sensitive to Doyoung?”
Not caring about those two, Manwol caressed Areum from behind. Inside her cold heart, she brought so much amusement. Even if she embodied traits from Doyoung, she stood out from his usual reserved nature. She had so much energy, and it’s a fresh sight. Manwol secretly peered at their father-daughter time in the library, and she sensed the love the two had for each other. Even if it’s unbearable to separate them, having tonight was a pleasure for all.
“Yuta,” She summoned him. “Drop these two to her house safe and sound. It’s too dangerous to walk in the dark right now.”
Bowing in response, he led the way to the elevator for Doyoung to follow. But before he took the first step, Manwol halted him by the arm. “You better come back, or the deities won’t be pleased.”
He nodded before he was sent on his way. Wasn’t this brutal?
The silence in the car ride is deafening, though he didn’t want to disturb his little girl either. Yuta peeked from the mirror now and then to check on the two, sharing the gloom of his fellow friend. Having something or someone so valuable from the living world makes it hard to leave it. He understood as he suffered a similar fate to him.
When they’ve arrived at their destination, Doyoung was quick to notice that the lights from your living room were still on. It’s too risky to waltz in through the front door, squinting for other ways to go inside. To his luck, the window of Areum’s bedroom was wide open. That must’ve been how she escaped earlier.
“Be careful, Doyoung. Her neighbors may be watching.”
“It’s around 4 am right now, Yuta. I’ll be fine.” He reassured, clicking open the car door with his daughter peacefully asleep.
Entering inside her bedroom, he gently put her down on her soft bed. Covering her body with the duvet so she wouldn’t get cold, he took one last lingering look before taking his leave. Manwol might be looking for him already. Pressuring even to know that Yuta was waiting outside for him and that the deities are looking down on him too.
“Daddy,” Her tiny hand tugged on his sleeve, stopping his movements. Her droopy eyes faintly ajar, wanting to capture these last dreamy moments. “Don’t leave me and mommy again.”
This retouched attachment between the two made things much more stifling to accept reality. Doyoung understood her fright and sighed, kneeling to her again. Patting her head, “I’m sorry but I have no choice, sweetheart. We don’t want daddy to get in trouble, right?”
She lazily nods, tugging on his sleeve again. “Can you sing me to sleep, daddy? You used to do that for mommy.”
He grinned, accepted her last request. Holding on her hand, kissing it, he quietly sings.
“Eonjebuteoinji geudaereul bomyeon….”
When the song reached its end, the soft snores from Areum filled his eardrums. Her eyes are fully closed, and her tiny head fell to the side of her pillow. Kissing her forehead, he whispered, “Good night, sweetheart. Daddy loves you so much.”
A cute sight to Doyoung, she occupied a huge part in his heart. Even if everything tonight will feel like a complete dream, it’s a memorable moment for Doyoung that he’ll treasure.
Initially, he planned to leave her bedroom the same way he came in, which was through her window. That’s all Manwol tasked him to do when he arrives at your house, but his heart selfishly desires to see you. Even if he was invisible now. His powers were weakening, twitching from being visible to invisible back and forth.
Never has he stepped inside your new house, and this could be his only chance.
The first thing he saw after leaving his daughter’s bedroom was the dining room. Tidy and organized, as expected from you. For the living room connected to it, the simple decorations invited him inside. Assorted photos hung in the wall and by the table near the front door, with a fresh bouquet of asters in a vase there too.
Alluring as it is, the only thing Doyoung couldn’t keep his eyes off the most was a sleeping you in pajamas, hunched over the coffee table on top of books and numerous paperwork. An empty coffee glass neared the edge, so he caught it before you squirmed again from your sleep.
The exhaustion from your life was constantly piled up one after the other. You’ve been studying hard at law school, balancing it with a part-time job as a teacher’s assistant at your university for undergrads and being a mom to Areum. Even seeing the pile of bills right by your side, you didn’t just need the help of your families. You needed him, as a friend, lover, and father.
Men were still viewed as the main breadwinners of the family, but you juggled both positions as mother and father. It was a vicious fate, and he’d do anything to share that challenge with you. For now, the only thing he could do is bring you to bed at least.
Taking you into his arms bridal style, completely knocked out, he only assumed the remaining door in front of Areum’s bedroom was your bedroom. Carefully kicking it, he graced your bed and laid you down elegantly so your sleeping flow won’t be disturbed. He put the covers on top of your body so you’d feel comfier.
Right in front of your bedside was a breezy open window, the moonlight creeping in to highlight your sleeping face. The wrinkles on your forehead started to show, a side effect of immense stress. It’s a trait no one wants, yet it symbolized aging and moving forward to the future. Doyoung envied you for it.
Besides that, you looked youthful as ever, seeking internal peace from the outside world in your deep slumber. His index traced the outline of your face, appreciating your glow. Trapped in amazement, leaving you will be more difficult. It’s been a while since he saw you up close in the flesh, but Manwol’s words daunted his mind. Just like his daughter, his lips softly pecked your forehead and to your ear, he said in a hushed tone, “Good night, my love. I’m so proud of you.”
Getting back on his knees to exit, he’s convinced that you and your daughter can detect a leaving presence and catch it before they do. On cue, your hand unconsciously grabbed his wrist. Your mind couldn’t make up what mental state you were in, but something in you vibed a known presence. One that you’ve yearned, one that you struggle to wait and see until your birthday arrives. Is he actually here?
Doyoung reacted immediately, his feet shuffling to face you again. Eyes still shut close, but your lips released a satisfied moan as you stretched your arms slightly.
“Is it my birthday already?” You mumbled incoherently, gripping on the unknown wrist. “Or am I just lucky enough to get a free pass?”
He rolled his eyes at your nonsense. “If this was a free pass, what would you want me to do?”
You weakly took a peek. It was blurry, probably caused by your sleepiness. But you recognized the silhouette of this stranger from the back of your hand. You clutched his grip, bringing his face closer to yours. Doyoung didn’t expect such a jerking action, almost falling limp if his other free hand didn’t grip on your duvet.
“Kiss me before you go again, my love.” You requested, mindlessly craving his touch.
Loosening from your grip, his palm cupped your cheek as he wets his lips. He made the first move, sweetly and slowly. Even at your unknown state, you returned with the same level of passion, brushing the hair behind the nape of his neck to deepen it. You haven’t kissed anyone like this in a very long time, too busy with your studies and motherhood. This refreshed your memories of what you missed, a warm tear escaping your eye.
No one will ever match up to him.
Doyoung’s deprivation of physical touch for you amplified, eagerness for so much more than this. Touching himself to the thought of you grew tiring, wanting to have you in the flesh by his side. It wasn’t until a bright car light from outside shun by your window. Yuta was an impatient one, but he had every right to be.
It was fulfilling while it lasted. His heart throbbed when his lips parted from yours, opening his eyes again. Your eyes stayed closed, but your lips hummed in satisfaction.
“Nothing changed in the way you kiss, my love.” You complimented, succumbing back to your deep slumber by pulling yourself further inside the duvet.
Doyoung grinned at your words, kissing your knuckle one last time. “I meant what I said, (Y/N). Sleep well.”
He tiptoed out your bedroom, deciding to exit through the front door. Again, no one would be awake at this time anyway. However, an antique-looking photo of him caught his eye. Taking a closer look, it was you and him by his garden, clutching on his arm under their family lemon tree and smiling during pre-war times. It was a funny story actually.
His father bought a camera for the first time and wanted to test it out. You were over at their house that day to study, and his father insisted to take a photo of the two of you as a first try.
“Oh come on, we must commemorate this new contraption! The first people can be titled “Young Love” or something like that!”
Doyoung cringed, whining, “Dad, that’s so corny!”
“I don’t care. Now hurry, join the frame with (Y/N) and smile!”
His father may present himself as strict and stubborn as one of the most affluent men in Korean society even after the war, but behind the scenes, he knows how to entertain his children. Doyoung’s childhood never had a dull moment. Oh, how wished he could follow the same fate as him.
This happy photo was a golden treasure to you, framing it so it could be preserved. It was one of your last traces of him, aside from Areum. Next to it, a much smaller photo of you and Areum was placed. Also all smiles for the two of you, Areum firmly sat on your lap and clasping her hands above her dress. You cut your hair during that time, showing the dog tag necklace that once belonged to him on your neck. You were really devoted to him, and he’s grateful, to say the least.
He knew he shouldn’t take anything either before going back to the hotel, but there was just no way he can’t take this one photo of his favorite girls with him. He already kept his photo strip of him and Areum from the carnival in his back pocket, so he’ll just have to work out the consequences then.
Returning to the car was bittersweet. He took one more proper look at your home, taking in all the positive energy to have such a loving family even if he can only watch from afar. While Yuta revved the car on, Doyoung deeply sighed from the backseat. What a spontaneous evening.
“I’m guessing you didn’t resist seeing your lover either, Doyoung?” Yuta commented, viewing him from the mirror. Raising his brows playfully, “Got caught in the VIP seat of you two lip-locking.”
“First of all, that’s creepy, Yuta. Second, you most definitely know what it feels like to be separated from your lover. Cut me some slack.”
“Whatever, that’s not my business anyway. But good luck to you if Manwol asked why there was a sudden extension.” The older friend shrugged, his foot pressing on the pedal to drive off the area.
“Keyword is if she asks. Now please, drive faster, Yuta. I have a shift to fill in now.”
Last night was a gift, but also an aching reminder of what could’ve been if he never died. The sun is slowly making its appearance again, bringing in another morning in this reality. Another work day for Doyoung, more waiting to be done.
Yet recalling his bonding moments with Areum, he’ll most likely get through another few decades. He yanked out his photo strip from the back pocket of his trousers, gazing at their authentic happiness. He muttered to himself,
“I’ll see you and your mother again, and we’ll all celebrate and rejoice. ‘Til then, my sweetheart.”
Meanwhile, ever since that peculiar “dream” with Doyoung, it left you with a lot of questions. Perhaps, it’s all just in your head. Though it doesn’t quite answer how one of your beloved pictures went missing. That’s definitely something you’re going to ask if your birthday comes up again.
Moving forward, his kind words pushed you to do your best. In the next years, you first became a family lawyer for a few years to get used to the field, but permanently shifted to being a public attorney because you wanted to be able to represent those who are suffering the most yet can’t afford the legal help to avoid it.
Just like what you and Doyoung aspired.
Balancing that with a kid was overwhelming, but with your and Doyoung’s families helping you out, your stress lessened.
You served as a huge inspiration to female college students wanting to pursue law. Since law is still perceived as a male-dominated field, you constantly pushed to make space for women in that workforce. It was also rare of you to lose a case because of the hard work you put into disproving every loophole and suggesting the correct punishments for the wrongdoers.
“You really outdid yourself once again, (Y/N). Or should I say Attorney (Y/L/N) (Y/N).”
“Shut up, Doyoung. Tell me more about your hotel staff friends. That Johnny guy seems very fun, and Jeno seems like a lovely boy.”
“Johnny’s a playful lad, always the life of the party. Jeno is like the younger brother I really wish I had. Donghyun-hyung is okay and all, but he’s so high maintenance.”
“Shush! He’s doing fantastic right now. He pursued acting like he always wanted.”
“He deserves it because he’s hard-working, like yourself, Attorney.”
You’ve never fallen in love the same way you did for Doyoung. Though you won’t lie that you’ve slept with a few men during nights out with your co-workers, committing to another man was something you had no time for. You always envisioned Doyoung as the one fucking you senseless.
People viewed it as stupid to be still lovestruck over your dead lover, but you’ve been called worst insults in your life that it doesn’t sting that much anymore. At the end of the day, your heart still soared and longed for Doyoung.
You just can never let him go.
“It’s still unfair to you, Doyoung. I should be ashamed.” The two of you were at a drive-in theater, watching from the trunk of his pickup truck. Your back laid against his chest as his fingers roam your torso in an upwards motion.
“No, you shouldn’t, (Y/N). It’s natural to desire human affection. I’m the one who should be sorry for not giving it to you.”He replied, completely ignoring the film.
You scoffed jokingly. “It’s silly how we’re so deprived of sex, especially with each other.”
“Oh, (Y/N). Don’t get me started, I’m suffering here with my hand alone while you can just find any available man.”
“Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” You surrendered, directing your head from the front to the back. “At the end of the day, it’s still your touch that still gets me weak.”
“My dear, on the day we reunite, brace yourself. I’ll show you who you really belong to.”
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1973
Doyoung’s been on duty with reading books to children lately, and again, he’s aching to see what Areum’s up to. Rereading past letters from her from his birthday celebrations were driving him wild. After helping one young girl look for more books under the Madeline series, he had to make an exception. Just this once, and that would be it.
Even if he was under disguise, he desperately wanted to have just another brief conversation with her, especially that she’s a lot older compared to their last encounter. Doyoung witnessed her bloom from this imaginative young girl to a strong woman chasing after her dreams.
Like mother, like daughter.
He spotted her at a small bookstore to buy books for her classes and newly arrived ones from the States, very much interested in western literature. But upon seeing the peaked prices which were more than what she saved for, she put the book back on the shelf and gathered the ones she actually needed.
This was where Doyoung took it upon himself to offer his help. Staying long enough in the middle of the living and the dead, he was capable to turn visible.
“Stephen King, huh?” He inquired, scooting to her side and pulling out the book again to take a better look at it. He came across this book in his library, even if it was in English. “I see that you’re into horror. These books are in English though.”
Areum knew speaking to strangers is not a good thing, but if anyone reached out to her to talk about books, she can’t help but feel excited. “I’m interested in a lot of genres, and this book is pretty popular right now so I wanted to check it out. Besides, I’m reading more English books so I can become fluent one day.”
“You aren’t scared of the storylines?”
“I went through a life of hardships, sir. Nothing scares me anymore honestly.” Doyoung couldn’t help feel proud and sorry for her. Without questions, he led her to the counter and paid for all books despite her insisting not to.
“Sir, you really shouldn’t have. I can always come back for those books when I save up more.”
“It’s fine, really. With your taste in literature, you have a promising future as an author if that’s what you’re aiming for.” He complimented. Areum was frazzled at how spot on this stranger was, trying to convince him again.
“Are you sure I shouldn’t pay you back?”
“Pay me back by publishing your books.” He confidently stated, bringing out his wallet to pay the cashier. His astonishing kindness and encouragement for her are heartwarming, bowing with gratitude.
“Thank you,” She halted because she didn’t know his name.
There was no way Doyoung can disclose his actual name, so he just picked a random nickname some of the kids in the hotel who he read to coined for him. “I prefer giving people my nickname. It’s tokki.”
“Thank you, tokki. I’m Areum, Kim Areum.” She thanked him properly, struggling from carrying her things to shake his hand, but Doyoung signaled her not to.
“Nice to meet you, Areum.” He greeted back.
As Areum was more ready to part ways, Doyoung’s fatherly instincts activated due to the heavy box she held. Her dorms must be a bit far and it was already nighttime. Anything can happen.
“Excuse me, Areum. But do you mind if I help you with your books? It’s pretty late, so I just want to make you get back safe.”
Something in Areum was very willing to trust this man she just met. Sure, he was quite covered up, but it’s almost winter and maybe he didn’t want to catch a cold. Though, his intentions looked good. She’s heard stories about people getting robbed in these alleys, so she accepted his help.
Her dorms were a few blocks away, giving enough time to be acquainted with this man. Though he was the one mostly asking the questions and she answered them. She didn’t pry on it too much and went with the flow.
“Are you an only child in your family?”
“Yes. It’s also just me and my mom. I never got to meet my dad sadly. He died before I was born while battling in the Korean war.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” No matter how long it’s been since the war, the trauma of it all still haunted Doyoung.
“It’s been years so it’s fine. I found out recently that he risked his life to save his senior officer during a surprise attack from one of my uncles. If that isn’t bravery, I don’t know what is.”
“So you’re not mad at him for leaving?” He asked, hoping he didn’t cross boundaries either. He needed this closure.
“It was hard to accept at first. All my friends grew up with their actual fathers, and I felt outcasted. But there are just some things we can’t control, you know?  Besides, people always spoke of him highly and that makes me proud. Though,” She answered honestly, covering up the bitterness in her words in other not to disrespect him. “I’m pretty sure I saw him in a dream when I was younger.”
Doyoung’s heart leaped. So she may recall quite a bit. “Oh really? What was it like?”
“The only person I told this to is my mom. It felt quite unreal, honestly. I was around 7-8 years old at that time, and we were at a carnival, enjoying the attractions and stuff. Then we transitioned to this huge library where he read me a bunch of stories. One of them was Madeline, I believe. One of my favorites!”
Doyoung replays the fond memory in his mind. Time really flew by so fast.
“What a fun dream, it seems to be.”
Areum was elated at the best memory of her youth, smiling to herself. “It truly was. It felt like I was with him, you know. No matter how many times he told me he loved me there, I still respond the same way and that nothing has changed.”
“I love you too, Areum.” He mumbled quietly. That dream should not have been the only memory they have of each other. Neither of them deserved to be parted.
Soon enough, they arrived at the front doors of her dorm residence. Since it was strictly for women, she explained that she’ll carry the box from here on.
“Thanks again for the help, tokki. I’ll make sure to pay you back soon.” She spoke so casually because, for some reason, this mysterious man felt trustworthy. Her gut feeling may fool her, but she let it pass.
“Take your time, Areum. I wish you the best of luck.”
Before they went separate ways, something about her bitter words from awhile ago bothered Doyoung and he wanted to say something about it. Because looking into the far future, if he didn’t, he knew he’ll regret it and make moving on harder.
“Wait, Areum!”
Areum abruptly reacted to the shouts of her name, almost dropping the box. She faced again the mysterious tokki, who now had an awkward stance with his hand in the air waving at you.
“Yes, tokki?”
Compiling his thoughts, here goes nothing.
“This is quite random but your dad... I just know he loves you too. He’s also proud of you for being strong and intelligent. I hope you don’t forget that.”
Areum was baffled by his statement, but it was uplifting to hear that. Maybe this tokki guy was going through the same thing as her, so she didn’t want to judge too quickly. She was taught to never judge a book by its cover from you. By the quick blinking of her eyes, some tears dropped down to her cheek. She let out some sniffles on her way up to her dorm room, reassured that this stranger may just be correct. She heard what she needed to hear.
It’s been a long time since he reunited with his daughter, even if she’s fooled into thinking that the dream was just a dream. His status as a father was renewed. Even if he got a major scolding from Manwol upon his return at the hotel for ditching his shift.
“She blamed you in public? Oh no, my love.” You consoled your lover after he told you the tale.
A lot of iconic songs were released during this decade, so this dream accommodated it. It was set in a jazz bar, where all sorts of alcohol on display with assorted vinyl CDs by the platform at the end. Dimly lit with numerous empty tables and chairs, and it was only the two of you. Dressed to the nines for the occasion, your flimsy hands couldn’t stop playing with your hoop earrings. A definite staple while you swayed your hips to the beat of Superstition by Stevie Wonder.
Doyoung sat in one of the bar stools in a red v-neck top and flare pants, marveling at your physique and movements in that indigo romper. You could feel his fiery stare, your body flowing through the groove to capture him into your spell. The dream version of him always gets easily distracted when you act suggestive, especially when he isn’t in control physically. Only his words can he sort out.
Dancing towards him, you dragged his arms away from his seated position to lead him to the empty dance floor.
“Let’s dance off the stress, shall we?”
Pulling off the famous dance moves and grooving in freestyle, it was a blast. Both your young energies were in sync. From the funky beat, it shuffled into a slower yet soulful song. The unwinding mood could only mean that this dream was reaching its end. You took Doyoung’s arms again, placing one on your waist and the other interlocked with you. Taking the lead, you waltzed back and forth, twirling yourself in his arms.
Doyoung cracked a smile from the phone and in the dream, immersing himself in the lovely song. It was always played on the radio during the late-night shows, dedicated for the couples out there. With you, he could finally understand why couples request it every night.
“You are the sunshine of my life,” He sang along while feeling your heartbeat against his chest. “That's why I'll always stay around.”
“You are the apple of my eye,” You carried from where he left off, equally resonating with the lyrics. No matter how many times you’ve said or expressed your patience for each other, this song held a special place. It summed up everything you’re both fighting for.
“Forever, you'll stay in my heart.”
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1980s
It came to Doyoung’s attention that there’s a new member of the hotel staff, and Manwol put him in charge of touring this new addition around and orienting them about the hotel rules. Considering he wasn’t busy, he went for it.
This person would be the replacement of Johnny, who finally passed through the afterlife in high spirits after his younger brother Mark took his rightful place as the heir of their family business. Originally, it was him, but his stepmother and stepbrother stabbed him alongside his father to get ahold of the power. Without proof, they led the business as she freely did, overworking Mark numerously and spending their money to their heart’s desire.
Doyoung couldn’t let this pass. Since Manwol hired a human manager back in the ‘70s named Kun to better facilitate human-related affairs for the hotel (taxes, bills, etc), he requested him to talk to Mark then introduce him to you.
Kun also made sure to inform you that this was Doyoung’s idea.
“This Johnny is the same Johnny that Doyoung talks about in my dreams? The one who brings the fun out of him every once and while?”
“That’s right, Ms. (Y/L/N). Due to the betrayal, he can’t move on until his stepbrother is taken down.”
The fact that Kun was a bridge to the two of you felt miraculous. Now and then, Doyoung tasked Kun to buy you flowers or coffee whenever they meet. Sometimes, he’ll ask him to send his letters to you too. In return, you replied to those letters, attaching pictures of you and Areum over time. He hung it up in his office, taking a look before every shift.
Kun didn’t mind being in the middle. While Doyoung gave her cases to work on, it makes it easier for him to wait for her. Doyoung was a guest first before being a member of staff, and as the human manager, he’ll make sure that he gets to move on too.
Even if you don’t accept cases from big companies, the touching way how Mark described his passed older brother persuaded her otherwise. He even opened up about watching his father and older brother get killed right in front of him. From there, he was held hostage for years and never told anyone about that night.
It was undoubtedly the biggest case in your career. Up until this day, everyone still talks about how complex and intense the battle was.
“Always finding a way to make justice prevail, Kim Doyoung.” You thought to yourself after gathering more evidence from Mark and Kun, working closely also with forensics and the police.
And that you did. With additional information on Johnny’s side, which helped find the empty puzzle pieces to prove his stepfamily’s guilt, they won the case. Life imprisonment and forced transferring of roles, Mark became the CEO. All those involved in hiding the truth got caught and fired from their positions.
You deserved your influential status, and due to your never-ending service, Doyoung found himself falling in love with you over and over again. Even from far away, you felt his connection and passion.
Currently, you were dealing with five cases, one of them being another request for Kun and Doyoung. It was for the murder of Yuta Nakamoto in the late 40s.
Being a migrant from Japan, numerous Koreans held grudges for their people. He was mistreated and disrespected, even if he had the most caring soul. He even found love, ready to get wed. But one normal evening after his job as a Japanese teacher, he was mobbed by Koreans and heartlessly killed. At first, he wanted vengeance. But after Manwol telling stories of souls burning into ashes when they get revenge, he changed his objective to watch the demise of all his killers, who became very influential people in Korean society.
Representing with you was his former lover, Sooyoung. No matter how many times she tried to appeal to the court in the past, no one paid attention because she was a woman and interracial relationships were taboo. Even if Yuta held a special place in her heart, she eventually got married to another man. In the beginning, she felt guilty, but after Yuta told her in a dream call that she shouldn’t be afraid to open herself up again, she never held back. And as a fellow woman who’s been ostracized, you sided with her.
She may not have her happy ending with Yuta, but it only felt right to avenge his wrongful death.
It’s a tough battle, these murderous men not owning up to their crime, and the public also discriminating the dead man by saying he deserved it. But you knew you could do it, even if it’ll take a while.
Back to the newbie, he was in his early twenties. He went by the name, Jaehyun. Just about to start his life, yet taken away just like that. Aside from being the next bartender, he has another position as the vinyl boy in the music section of the library. It came to Manwol’s attention that he wanted to pursue music when he was alive, listening to vinyl CDs or cassette players and taking singing and piano lessons growing up. While he figured out what he wants to do while moving on, he’d be in charge of organizing and playing music for the souls checked in. Sing even if requested, especially by the women who are charmed by his attractive looks.
He was a literal old soul, jazz being his favorite genre. Most of the time, he played Chet Baker or Frank Sinatra when it’s his shift at the bar. He was known for always showing his best and happy-go-lucky sides to everyone.
It took him a few years to start opening about his life, longer than most souls. But maybe because the trauma of it all stung. One night, when he, Doyoung, and Kun weren’t working, he mixed a few cocktails and completely fell off the radar.
“I was a part of a duo with one of my best friends, Hongseok. It was really fun to perform and make music with him, but then he suddenly got into drugs and had a ton load of groupies. I-I just couldn’t do it anymore with him if he wasn’t going to stop. Once I cut off ties with him, I was signed by a class A producer who loved my compositions. He even got me all sorts of opportunities to perform on TV, and I was so excited for it. But one week until I made my official debut, Hongseok reached out again with apologies, wanting to meet up so we can fix ties. I was hesitant, but I still give him the benefit of the doubt because we go way back….” He confessed, puffing out smoke from his cigarette and putting it down on the ashtray. Before he continued his story, he scoffed with profanities.
“That bitch. I fucking trusted him! I was too good to give him another shot. So after practice, he sent me an address to his apartment or so I thought. We were having drinks, just like old times. But something felt off feel when my mind started feeling hazy and I started coughing continuously because my stomach ached like crazy. He asked me if I was fine, and I told him I was. Then suddenly, baam!” He crashed his hands on the table, shocking the hell out of his two companions.
“Holy fuck, Jaehyun.” Kun cursed under his breath. Doyoung nudged him the shoulder to mind his language.
“The deities are watching you, Kun. Let Jaehyun-ie continue.”
So he did. “There I was, standing beside my dead body while Hongseok rummaged with surgical gloves through my bag to steal my notebook of songs. He planted cocaine on the table where I conversed with him, and also in front of my face. Beside my glass, he laid the vial of poison he used and called the cops. With fake tears, he cried on the phone saying that he came home to my dead body and a suicide note.”
Stillness between the three of them was filled with betrayal and disappointment. For a so-called friend, this must be the worst thing you can do to them. To lessen his suffering, Jaehyun brought back his actively lit cigarette and smoked it until all the tobacco was gone. Exhaling a dark grey smoke, he spat out.
“I-I couldn’t believe it, hyungs. I lost everything after making the wrong decision of seeing him. And now, he signed under that label that found me to “give honor to my talent”. How tragic that I suddenly took my life he’d say, oh bullshit! You took away my life because you were jealous!”
Kun decided to call it a night, requesting Yukhei who’s on duty to take Jaehyun’s upcoming shifts so he could calm down. Escorting his intoxicated figure out so the other guests won’t feel bothered, Doyoung contemplated if he wanted to forward another case to you. You’ve been getting so much workload lately, according to Kun, because your success rate is high and highly in demand.
“What happened to Jaehyun?” Manwol showed up from behind, sitting across him. “Did he finally tell his story?”
Doyoung mildly groaned, devastated by it. “He did, and it breaks my heart. He’s still so young, like me.”
“What are you going to do about it?” Manwol stirred the spare cocktail, ingesting it in one go. “Is it another case worth forwarding to (Y/N)?”
“If it helps Jaehyun move on, possibly. I know it’s hard to find staff these days, Manwol. Also, she’s stacked already. I don’t know if she’ll take it.”
She snickered, patting his shoulder. “You know if it’s from you, it becomes her priority. She loves you that much, you know.”
“I know, but I wish I could help her. In person. I would’ve been a lawyer and taken Jaehyun’s case if I were alive. Murder in the first degree, false reporting to the police, stealing, his persecutor is insane and still walking free.”
The fire of passion in Doyoung wasn’t new to Manwol, nodding as he spoke. He was capable of a lot of things, but the world just wasn’t ready to see it. She was more concerned at how the deities will react when he engages in human affairs again. Even if it helps a lot of ghosts move on, it’s highly discouraged to interfere with the living world. It’ll ruin the entire flow of the world.
Doyoung already knew what he got himself into, but it’s one of the few ways he still feels relevant. Always in service for anyone who needs it, dead or alive. If the deities take him away, it’s no joke that it’ll be a riot in the entire hotel.
“In that case,” Manwol’s piercing eyes scanned right at him, filling up his glass with vodka. Second to Doyoung, she grew a fond liking to Jaehyun. She never knew how much he’s been hiding during his stay. “Forward it no matter what. End his murderer’s career at all costs.”
Doyoung smirked, lifting his glass high to clink with hers then chugging it one go.
“I’ll investigate first with Kun to know more about Jaehyun’s life, then we’ll look for someone who wants to testify for Jaehyun to meet with (Y/N).”
Amid the craze and problems in the hotel, at least Doyoung was at ease with how successful his family. Areum became a well-known author for fairytales, got married, and had 3 kids of her own. She most definitely didn’t live down to Doyoung’s promise.
“Is he a nice guy?” Doyoung inspected the man who married his only daughter. It felt like yesterday they played around in the carnival room.
“He is, Doyoung. Intelligent and caring, nothing to worry about.” You calmed his shaking leg, resting your head on his shoulder while you watch the fireflies from the campfire set prepared by the deities.
“I’m just looking out for her, you know.”
“She most definitely does know, even telling stories about us to her kids. Our grandchildren.”
“It’s hard to believe that we’re technically old when we’re always young in these dreams.”
“Maybe it’s just you being used to your youth. Meanwhile, aging is beating my ass every day.” You joked, covering yourself up in the blanket you shared. Doyoung’s bottom lip jutted out, huffing at your mean comments.
“Yah, you take that back.”
“Make me.” You fired back, riling him up.
Doyoung in the dream attacked you by tickling your sides mercilessly. Your body uncontrollably arched back and forth, falling back to the blanket you sat at. He took the advantage to pin you down, gripping on your arms to the side. With his face near yours, you closed the gap with a cheeky kiss. His touch softened, allowing you to pull him lower by his collar. Your lips molded together in every movement, feeling his tongue lick your lower lip for entrance. You freely gave in, moaning filthily.
“Didn’t even have to test me like that, my love.”
How you wished this was longer, if it weren’t for the fast fading out, and morning has arrived again. A short-lived euphoria, yet it left your panties drenched under the covers. The arousal still ran in your veins.
“Kim Doyoung, you tease.”
Back to your real life, aside from bravely taking on controversial cases, there was a thrill in every case you did and it showed by your fast-paced talking and hand gestures. Whether you won or lost, mostly the former, knowing that you helped someone made your life more meaningful.
He often forgot how you’re a grandmother during your dream calls already as time flows differently within the living and the dead. They were the only way you can be youthful and energetic. But with your actual body, it began to weaken.
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Early 1990s
Nature decided to take heavier measures on you physically. On one of the monthly visits to the doctor, she noticed something off with the checkup and tests. Especially in the chest area.
“Ms. (Y/L/N) (Y/N), I’m afraid that you have a growing lump in your breast.”
“Are you saying what I’m thinking?”
“If breast cancer is one of those though, then unfortunately yes.”
Areum was by your side that day, tearing up at her announcement. You, on the other hand, remained still and nodding at the truth. You’ve fought for a lot of things in your life, and you were so determined to beat this one.
Chemotherapy, medications, and scans are tiring and draining, but you managed to live for 2 more years. You’ve fully retired, and now and then, mentor the juniors with their cases. You’ve traveled to as many places as you can before the stages of cancer rose.
In your last months of life, you were bedridden in the most expensive hospital in Seoul, getting visits from Areum with her family, Jungwoo and Taeyong. As the latter served as definite friends to Doyoung, it was only natural to befriend them when they came into your life post-war. They supported Areum in any way they can too.  They’ve become a great company in your boring life especially in the hospital. Nowadays, Jungwoo loved sharing stories about his hyper grandchildren, who share similar traits to him, while Taeyong excitedly talked about his recent investment with a promising music company with the dream to debut talented individuals and go international in the long run.
“Mr. Lee Soo Man is dedicated to it! He hopes that next year, all his plans can start and be executed.”
“You’re always investing in start-ups, you know? You think this one will be bigger than the rest?”
“Music is universal, you know. Language barriers may be there, but music brings us together.”
Taeyong was always a delight to catch up with. However, you didn’t expect that conversation would be your last with him. A few days later, he suffered a sudden heart attack and passed. This was a sign that your time was coming. Your body falling more and more feeble every day as the disease fully took you over at night, the monitors always going on a high every so often.
It’s only a matter of time before you leave this life, and looking back, you’ve lived a tough yet productive life. Your daughter was happy and thriving in her career and family. You helped families and couples from their abusive households. You defended those with loved ones who were murdered, robbed, and lied to. You ticked off all you wanted to do beforehand.
Areum made sure to visit that night specifically as soon as she could. With your recent test results have been failing, her gut feeling kept insisting.
It’s a good thing she did.
Meanwhile, it was another day of work for Doyoung, just returning a bunch of books in their respective shelves after some teenagers left on the table. Before that, he bid Taeyong goodbye in the tunnel. It’s always nice to see a familiar face, so he couldn’t miss out on it. He shared any life stories he had with you, updating him about your state. Doyoung knew about it beforehand, and as selfish enough to look forward to it, it pained him to know you’re suffering. He only hoped you could fight through it.
“Doyoung-hyung!” Someone suddenly shouted, but he was shushed by an old lady reading her romance novel, who pointed at the sign that read “Keep quiet in the library”.
Doyoung was also annoyed, instantly nagging on the point person. “Kun! Can you read the sign? Jeez, this isn’t the first time so please-”
“(Y/N) is going off the monitor.” He blurted out. The news from one of the nurses he befriended buzzed through his phone. After finding out about his story, he wanted to help Doyoung especially when he was still alive. Doyoung may a part of the staff, but he’s still a guest. He dropped everything in his hands. Before he could race to the hospital, he changed into a specific outfit for this occasion.
This was it.
Areum was the only one by your side of your hospital bed, weeping due to your weak state. You didn’t want your other family members to witness this crucial moment. It stung that you’ll miss out on the futures of your grandchildren, but you were satisfied to just be a part of their lives. All this machinery trying to sustain your life served its purpose, but the illness you’re fighting was stronger.
“Mom....” Areum sniffled in her handkerchief, holding on to your boney hand. “I’m not ready for you to go.”
“Oh, Areum.” Your thumb caressed her soft palm as reassurance. “You grew up so well. An independent woman you are, you are so loved.”
“Mom, please....” She begged. “I can’t lose you too.”
You will never know how Areum held in her sorrow of not being able to grow up with her father. She hated the feeling of being fully abandoned. She wanted things and people to return to her, but she can’t make that choice. Being by her side all her life, losing you will be the hardest struggle she’ll have to face.
“Areum, you must understand...” You paused as a pang of pain in your chest stabs you. After a minute of enduring it, you continued. “...We are put on this world for a specific time. And if we’re called to leave, we must face it.”
She whimpered whilst holding on to your hand. She really thought you can get through this one like the rest, but your hair has gone, your body lost much weight, and your eyes lost their light.
“Mom, are you happy? You’ve fought through so much to get where you are. I can never do what you did.”
“Y-Yes, I am.” You stuttered, gracing a promising smile. “I had you, our families, and your father watching over me..”
The dreams you get on your birthday were fairytale-like stories that pushed Areum to become an author. She denied how unrealistic and supernatural they were at first. Another trait of Doyoung she got. However, when she noticed how wider your smiles are and energetic you get in the mornings after rather the feeling of distraught, she reckoned to believe they were something special. Despite knowing your love story and its downfall, she felt exhilarated at the things you and her dad did there. In a way, it brings him closer to her. But she still had that void.
“I envy you for that, mom. I wish I met him or at least came to me even if I least expected it!”
Oh, little did she know about that time in the bookstore back in the 70s. It was not coincidental; you and Doyoung planned it very well. You just played along to her complaint, alerted that this wasn’t your story to tell at this time. “Forgive your father just this once, okay? He never wanted this kind of fate for any of us. If one thing stayed constant in those dreams, it’s him always asking how you are doing.”
Her tears become uncontrollable, allowing herself to get puffy eyes and let it all out. “When you see him, please tell him I’m sorry and that I love him no matter.” “Oh, Areum. He knows that, so don’t worry about it.”
The clock was ticking for Areum before she’ll be asked to leave. With you bringing up her father again, she had one last question. Her courage to ask it was so little when she was young in fear you sulk and break down. It hurt her when the bad parts of your past tormented you.
“How much do you miss him?” The question put you in a point of self-reflection. The only person you’ve opened up to talk about him in detail was Areum. Even with your friendships with Taeyong and Jungwoo, there were some things you never disclosed with them. And never did they force you to answer because they can read you on the back of their heads: you’re still heartbroken, yet remained devoted to him.
“I miss him so much that even if this became my fate for accepting his notebook back in our university days, I would foolishly do it all over again. In those times he was no longer with us, it taught me to appreciate what and who we have in our lives because tomorrow is never guaranteed. From his impact, I learned to take care of myself again so I can take better care of you. I’m grateful you were born; he left a piece of him for me.”
“You’ve suffered so much, mom. I hope you can rest peacefully.”
“Thank you for never leaving my side, Areum.” A few tears escaped your eyes, infectious to your daughter’s gloom. “I love you.”
Meanwhile, Doyoung was right outside viewing you and Areum sharing your last conversation and goodbyes. As much as he looked forward to reuniting with you, he didn’t want to leave his only daughter alone. The deities should have shown her more mercy. Still invisible, he observed how Areum trembled when she heavily closed the door of your hospital room. Covering her sobs with her handkerchief, she took one last look through the small glass of the door. You dove into a deep sleep that would then be unawakened.
“I hope your next life is happier than this, mom, and you can cross paths again with dad and grow old with him too.”
Doyoung’s urge to show himself to his daughter to console her was overpowering him, but he restrained himself this time. A few hours later, your consciousness was faltering. Your five senses were losing touch one by one. Important memories of your long life played in your mind. Then your heart gave in and stopped beating. The doctors present there have pronounced you dead. The transition from your body to your soul watching it be covered by a blanket by the nurses was swift yet strange. You didn’t know where to go and what’s next. No book prepared you for this nor can you ask the doctors what to do. Standing there lost with so many questions, it only took someone’s enthusiastic calling for your name to soothe you down.
“(Y/N)!”
It hit you instantaneously that when your day comes, Doyoung would call for your name. Your old age and past illness really affected your memories. He was an honest man and kept to his word this time.
And there he was, just along the hallway.
This was no longer a dream.
This novel kind of exhilaration got you moving your feet, still sore and slow because you were still an old lady.
“Doyoung!”
You shouted back, over and over again before your boney hands slid open the door. At the same time, your old figure drastically and permanently transformed you back to your active twenties. Nothing physically hurt anymore and your energy was on an all-time high. Your room was the last on the floor, a dead end. The left side of the hallway was just a closed window pane.
When you stepped outside and turned to your right, there he properly stood. He wore the same suit and suspenders combination on the day he approached you on your bike. The actual soul of Kim Doyoung who was no longer behind the phone. No matter how many times he’s seen you from afar, it makes him lose his breath from the captivation. For once, he can see you without barriers.
You just realized how you were dressed back into the floral dress on the day you had your first proper conversation. It’s like you’re meeting each other again for the first time. The beeping sounds of the monitors, wheelchairs moving, and chitter-chatter exchanged by doctors went mute. Stunned, you couldn’t stop looking eye to eye at him, cherishing this special moment.
It finally processed to Doyoung that his patience and efforts paid off. In this journey of acceptance, while enduring its trials, it added up to this sweet result to be reunited with you. The adrenaline rush took control of your limbs, legs running to him on the other side.
As his arms widened for a hug, he spun and picked you around in the air. His arms firmly wrap around your waist while your head snuggled on top of his shoulder. You felt safe, warm, and alleviated. Once he put you back down, the overwhelming joy wasn’t keen to pull away from your lover. Doyoung’s lips somehow got closer to yours, your heart skipping beats and his familiar scent intoxicating your thoughts.
With Doyoung still having you wrapped in his arms, he took his awaited chance to close into your parted lips. The fluttering in your stomach was on overdrive, your entire body reacting immediately from his passion. One hand curled into a fist on the hem of his buttoned top while the other rubbed the back of his head. Your legs almost gave in, but with Doyoung’s strength, he held you tight. No previous kiss felt like this. You didn’t have to worry about getting caught by adults for such a provocative display of affection. Your roommate wasn’t going to splash water if she catches you getting frisky on campus. As for Doyoung, he didn’t have to get paranoid about what his classmates would say about their relationship. You were both in your own world for a while.
But wanting to catch a breather from his thrilling dominance, your lips hesitantly moved away first. You took your time to get lost in admiring his features. Wet, swollen lips, flushed cheeks, his dazed eyes, he was irresistible, to say the least.
This was how an almost 50-year build-up would end up to.
“My love, it’s really you,” You finally spoke, caressing your thumb on his flushed cheek. “You’ve been through so much.”
As lovestruck as he is, his pent-up tears streamed down instantly. Except they were tears of joy. All those years he held back.
“I’ve missed you so much, (Y/N). I’m just happy you’re finally here with me.”
He wasn’t joking when he said that the main lobby alone was exquisite after walking through the city. Aside from Kun, that’s where he introduced you to other staff he worked with, such as Jeno, Jaehyun, and the boss herself, Manwol.
“This boy stayed very loyal, you know?” She commended Doyoung. It was a rare thing with her cold-hearted and aggressive personality. “He read to a lot of kids, taught some of them too, and recommended great books for the souls to read. He listened to a lot of souls who wanted justice then forwarded them to you so they can cross the other side.”
An honor to hear from the owner herself, you glanced at Doyoung with so much love. Such a giver than a receiver.
Beside Manwol was someone whom you aspired to meet. Unfortunately, you never met the other boys you’ve helped, so this was a great chance to see at least one before moving on. Hearing about his case and the treachery of it, you made sure to work on it before you retired, eventually passing it on to one of your trusted juniors. So far, his side was winning and that’s all you wanted.
“Jeong Jaehyun.” You held on to his clasped hands as he bowed to you.
“Attorney (Y/L/N). I’m so grateful for what you’re doing for me.”
“Oh, just call me (Y/N). By the way, your side is winning, my dear. Your younger brother Sungchan is committed to clearing up your name, and that evil Hongseok will rot in life imprisonment for his crimes.” You updated him. Without self-restraint, his arms gather you in for a hug. Jaehyun wasn’t much for affection, but this felt like the right circumstance. In return, you hugged him back.
“Thanks to you, Johnny and Yuta are resting in peace.”
“And you are next, Jaehyun. My junior taking your case is topnotch, so you’re bound to get what you truthfully deserve.”
After sharing such a heartfelt moment, you asserted your attention to Jeno. Not going to lie, you’ve looked forward to meeting this boy the most. He was there with Doyoung from the very beginning.
“Doyoung-hyung gets giddy after he makes a call, and tells me everything that you’ve been up to.” Jeno joined in. “He gets grumpy though too, so I like pestering him around to light him up. Oh, I’ll never know what you see in him, (Y/N).”
That gave him a joking slap on the shoulder by Doyoung, signaling to cut it out.  
“Hyung!” He fakely cried, hiding his face behind Jaehyun’s shoulder.
You suppressed a laugh, eventually sputtering out like an engine. Doyoung sighed, failing to redeem himself. But it’s alright. A simple peck from you on his cheek got him all flustered.
“Aish, take your romantic shenanigans when you’re in your room, not in my damn lobby.” Manwol cringed, the evident love bug getting on her nerves. “Alright, everyone. Get back to work!”
Checking in your room was an experience. Since you’ve been to numerous places through the dream calls, there was one main thing you’ve missed to do with Doyoung. As soon as he lifted you by your thighs and roughly shoved his tongue down your throat, you were in for a heated evening. This dominant side of Doyoung when it came to sex was completely fresh. After diving into more erotica over time, he learned about visual porn through Johnny and Jeno. You can say that he studied it very well.
“Almost 40 years of waiting, (Y/N).” He trapped you from above, sliding one of his hands to your bare breasts until it landed on your clothed core. Rubbing up and down your clit in a torturously slow place, he smirked at your desperate whines. Your breaths turned heavy, soaked by his actions. “Remember when I told you to brace yourself back then?”
“Shit, Doyoung...”
“Shush love, I’m in control now. So be a good girl for me, alright?” He growled in your ear, sucking on your soft spot on your neck. You obeyed that night, unbuttoning his shirt impatiently only to reveal his toned abdomen then lowering his crotch to give it a tight squeeze.
He hissed against your neck, pushing your panties to the side and sliding in your wetness.
“You are asking for it now, love.”
A steamy night it was, making up for all those lost years.
The following day, the struggle to walk was real. Jeno even pointed out your limping when you were roaming around the library Doyoung worked at. You never had a younger sibling, but he acted like one. So you punched him in the shoulder to shut up. “Jeez, you’re both so physical. Let me live!”
“Jeno, you’re dead. Don’t say nonsensical things.”
You learned how this hotel’s main purpose was to guide and fulfill the last wishes of ghosts in the living world before moving on. When Jeno asked you if you still have unfinished business, you realized that there is one thing left. Even if you completed your bucket list, that one thing is only possible through the hotel. You and Doyoung sat across Manwol, monitoring your shared dream call like she always did.
“Is this really the only thing you want to do here, (Y/N)?” Positively nodding, she gave you the signal to lift up the phone.
Areum found herself in an unfamiliar forest nearby a river during the day. Even she’s always like playing outside with nature in her childhood years, this location didn’t ring a bell. In fact, she was physically back to being that young girl with the same mature mind in this dream.
She wasn’t a vivid dreamer like yourself, forgetting them as so as she woke up. Even in that “dream” with her father, there were so many gaps. So for this one time, she can fully grasp her surroundings. This dream must have a purpose, she wondered.
While she followed the path that the dream assumed for her to take, she then clearly caught a glimpse of a younger you at the end of that path. Running around and laughing in the grass.
“Mom!” She called out, moving at a faster pace. It’s a good thing this dream brought her back her agility.
At the end of the path, it unveiled you lying down on the grass. Wearing in a dainty dress that reminded her of the 50s, there was an unfamiliar young man beside you. His head face planted on the grass because you pushed him off your body when he tried to tickle you.
It turned out that she arrived at your favorite spot with Doyoung. She’s only heard stories of things you’ve done and talked about her, but due to the war, their spot was devastated. Soon after, it turned into a small condominium building overlooking the river.
“Areum!” You squealed cheerfully to hear her much younger voice. She tackled you in a hug, and you still naturally felt it from where you sat.
“My sweet child,” You cooed in her, patting her back. “How are you?”
“It’s been difficult, but I’ll get by in time.” That was the first thing she managed to say, the grief being very much fresh. No mother wants to be separated from her child, and you weren’t exempted. But that is how life works: you come then you go. The truth tends to hurt.
It was obvious to Doyoung that you were still saddened by leaving Areum, taking this opportunity to give you space and finally interact with his daughter. No disguises nor distance. While the most important women in his life are still hugging in the dream, he pulls himself off from the grass and brushes away some leaves from his hair.
“Areum, I see you paid me back by having top-selling books for children.”
Areum peeked from your shoulder to check who the other man was by your side talking to her. Once he was clean from dirt and leaves, there was the only person he resonated with her. From pictures and stories shared by you, the actual man was with her.
Her actual father was in this dream with her.
“Dad!” She abruptly pulled away from you to approach her father for a bigger hug. You don’t blame her for that, she deserved to see her father even for a bit.
Years of having that empty void only for her biological father, she could care less at this very moment
Doyoung has never cried in a dream call with you, however, this long-awaited moment with his daughter resulted in him softly bawling while feeling her hugs from the chair. He’s proud and at peace to move on not just as your lover or a passionate university student, but as a father.
In their moment of content, only there did it make complete sense to Areum at the unusual memory during the ‘70s at the bookstore wasn’t random. It proved that he really did his best to reach out to her in any way he could.
“This whole time, you were the mysterious tokki. I just thought it was a coincidence. I’m so sorry, dad, that I didn’t notice you.” She sulks. Doyoung in the dream pats her back while lovingly rubbing the nape of her head.
“Oh, Areum. Don’t feel bad. I just wanted to see how much my little girl became independent and studious.” He replies, comforting the disheartened child. “I read all the letters you sent me during my birthday. I was touched then and touched now for this moment. I am proud of you, my daughter. And my love for you never changed.”
The affirmation in his words put Areum in a state of joy, rekindling that spark from the 70s. “I love you, dad.”
Your last mission in this world was to have a special outing with your complete family. Regret was always prevalent in the past, wanting to do this and that but never pushed through. But not in this dream. Just the three of you, happy and carefree from it all.
Unfortunately, Manwol just gave a hand signal that your time was almost up. Time flies by so quickly when you’re fully immersed in something you’re enjoying. Doyoung wasn’t capable to bear the bad news, but with you by his side, you helped him.
“Areum, it’s time for us to go.”
Areum sighed, reality seeping back into the situation. One sleep isn’t enough to make up years of loss. However, she still managed to remain positive in those circumstances. “I wish things worked out differently for our family, but who knows what our next lives will take us?”
In an instant, the two of you in the dream gave your daughter a big group hug. One she’s always yearned for. It’s moments like this where you mustn’t take anything for granted with your family.
“I’m happy you’re reunited with each other, mom and dad. Rest well.” She whispers with a smile, feeling fulfilled. She can grace the living world without wondering how things would be like with a complete set of parents anymore. This dream call successfully filled that empty void in her heart.
Once you’ve bid your final farewell and hung up the phone, you and Doyoung can say the same. A little bittersweet, but it lightened all the burdens in your hearts. The both of you can ultimately rest peacefully and move on.
The timing was perfect for Kun to inform you that the car taking you to the bridge leading to the afterlife was ready.
Jeno, Manwol, Kun, and Jaehyun didn’t want to miss out on this moment, waving farewells to you both. This lifetime may have taken you away from each other physically for a long time, but you still held on to each other. Most people gave up, though it’s not wrong either. It’s better to let go rather than holding on sometimes.
But the both of you were different, something, not even the deities didn’t expect. It’s only up to them to decide if they’ll give you another chance to be together and relive a longer life. A very rare sight indeed. To be granted or not, your story set a standard.
That a love so strong is so patient it endured all the challenges and stress.
“On to the next life, Doyoung?” You asked him, leaning against his shoulder as the car drove under the tunnel. All at the end of it was merely a white sky, where a long bridge awaited them.
“Make sure you wait for me this time.” 
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drarrily-we-row-along · 4 years ago
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Veritaserum Prompt Part 2
(Alrighty, friends! Here's part two of the Veritaserum prompt ficlet! I hope you enjoy.)
Harry had no idea what he was doing.
And to be fair, this was not an uncommon occurrence in his life. After everything that he'd done, everything that he'd been through, you'd think that he would be used to flying by the seat of his pants by now.
But this, Harry thought to himself as he stared at Draco Malfoy devouring a salad with chicken and fresh strawberries across from him at the island in the kitchen, was really not the plan.
The plan had been to find out where they were keeping Malfoy. The plan had been to find out how he was being treated and document it. The plan had been to put together a report demanding his release, demanding that Draco Malfoy be pardoned.
One look at him in that blasted cage and Harry's resolve to go through the correct channels was obliterated.
Hermione was going to kill him.
"I'm having trouble believing this is real," Malfoy confessed and frankly, Harry could sympathize. "I'm not sure if the way you're staring at me like you can't believe this is real either is helping or making it worse."
"This was not the plan," Harry finally said.
"Sorry?"
"I think I've made things worse," Harry confessed.
(Read more below the cut)
"Trust me, Potter, this is definitely not worse."
Harry winced, "In the short term, I agree with you," he said. "I agree completely. In the long term," he rubbed his hands over his face, "There was a plan. With lawyers and trials, with an actual fair trial, with you being tried as a minor because you were. A plan with a demand for your pardon and release."
"It wouldn't have made a difference," Malfoy said, glancing longingly at the salad bowl.
"Please have more if you're hungry," Harry said, nudging the bowl toward him and wasn't this all a bit surreal. "What do you mean it wouldn't have made a difference?"
Malfoy huffed as he scooped more salad onto his plate. "They never would have let me go."
"But Hermione says-"
"Yes," he interrupted, "Granger is brilliant, the brightest witch of our generation, but she also is on the side that won. You lot can have hope because what you wanted happened."
"So what you wanted didn't?"
Malfoy shook his head, "I mean obviously I wanted you to defeat Voldemort. What kind of idiot would I have to be to want him to stay in power? Even the people who followed him were miserable. But I was never under any delusions that my life would turn out fine."
"But we won," Harry said, "You shouldn't be punished unjustly."
"What do you think a just punishment would be?" Malfoy asked, popping a strawberry into his mouth.
"Community service," Harry replied readily, he'd thought this through already. "Maybe a few years of probation with wand monitoring."
"People died because of me, Potter," Malfoy said incredulously.
"You didn't kill them," he said.
"Semantics," Malfoy said, waving his hand.
"You didn't want anyone to get hurt. Dumbledore said-"
"Dumbledore was a fool!" he exploded. "Of course I didn't want to hurt anyone! Of course I didn't want to get the bloody dark mark! But I had to or he would have killed me and my mother. And I know you think the right choice would have been to sacrifice myself, to sacrifice my mother-"
"I didn't say that!" Harry protested.
Malfoy shook his head, "You don't have to because you lived it. You literally died, Potter."
"I mean, fine," Harry conceded. "If you're asking me to die myself, fine. It's literally what I was raised to do, it's literally the point of me. But if you'd asked me to sacrifice a single person I love," he shook his head. "I don't know what I would have done to save myself the pain of loss, to save my friends and family from the pain of that loss."
The other man stared at him for a long moment, "There is so much to unpack in that statement that I honestly don't know where to start." He shook his head, "Look, I'm grateful. Really. I didn't think I'd ever see the sun again, or taste fresh fruit, or drink clean water-"
Something clenched in Harry's stomach, "It's not fair."
Malfoy laughed, it wasn't mean or judgmental, but it was sad, "Potter, when has life ever been fair to you?"
Harry was a bit taken aback by that statement.
Before he could find the words to reply, "I'm just trying to say thank you for bringing me here. And to say I'll understand when you tell me I have to go back."
"It's not happening," Harry said fiercely.
"You've made yourself a criminal, Potter. You can't go back until you give me back to them."
"We'll clear your name," he said stubbornly.
Malfoy gave him a pitying glance, then seemingly decided to give it up. "Can I go outside?" he asked.
"Yeah," Harry said, "Of course. There's a ward set up around the property, but it's about half a mile in any direction. It won't let anyone in or out," he added.
"I won't go far," Malfoy promised.
"Oh, one more thing," Harry said, "One second." He ran back to his bedroom and fetched Malfoy's wand. "Here," he said, thrusting it out to the other man.
Malfoy stared at him, "You're giving me my wand?" he asked as though Harry was doing something inconceivable.
"Yeah," Harry said. "Yeah, of course I am."
"I could kill you in your sleep."
Harry cocked his head at him, "But why would you?"
"You're not very good at having enemies," Malfoy responded.
"You're not very good at being my enemy," Harry replied. "And honestly? I'm tired of having enemies, so if you want to off me just," he shrugged, "Do it."
Malfoy cautiously reached out and accepted his wand, tension draining from his shoulders the moment he touched it, "Circe, that feels good," he murmured. "I won't," he added, looking up at Harry then. "I won't hurt you."
"I know," Harry replied as he stepped back and headed over to start cleaning up the table.
"You're stranger than I remember."
Harry snorted, "Having an extra soul removed from your body will do that to you."
Malfoy was quiet for a long moment, probably trying to process that weird little tidbit that Harry didn't even always understand. "Do you want help cleaning up?" he finally asked.
"No," Harry said, shaking his head and glancing up at the other man, "Go outside. Enjoy the sun."
Malfoy stared at him for another moment like he couldn't believe this was actually happening before turning and heading out into the sand. Harry watched through the window as Malfoy spread his arms and tilted his head back to the sunlight, a smile on his face. It made him want to cry.
After another moment, he turned and made his way to the writing desk to pen a letter to send to Hermione that she could deliver to Kingsley.
Dear Kingsley, The conditions in which I found Draco Malfoy were so appallingly unacceptable that I deemed it necessary to remove him immediately. I'm sending along my findings on his living conditions in an official report with this letter along with any of the records that I managed to obtain from the unspeakables regarding the illegal activities, bordering on torture, that were performed. I will not be returning him to the unspeakables under any circumstances. Draco Malfoy will remain in my custody until he is granted an official Ministry Pardon. His time served in inhumane living conditions ought to make up for any lack of official punishment. I will also be remaining off the grid until Draco Malfoy has been granted the Ministry's Pardon. We both know that fundraiser season is approaching, so I hope you are able to sort this out as soon as possible so I can return to my work. Helping charitable organizations to function and serve those still suffering is important to me. You may send any correspondence to me via Ron Weasley or Hermione Granger. I look forward to hearing from you soon. Sincerely, Harry Potter
Harry read through the letter once more, making sure he'd been clear enough. Then he attached the letter to the official reports he'd written up and attached it to Mel's leg. She was a lovely parrot and they assured him that she would do just as well as any owl could. "Off you go," he murmured. "Take these to Hermione but be sure to rest on the way, yes?"
She nibbled his finger and he gave her a treat before she flew off.
He glanced out the window at Malfoy who was laying in the sand, soaking up the sun, and hoped that Kingsley would get back to him with a pardon before Malfoy realized that he was just as much a prisoner here as he was in the Department of Mysteries.
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Veritaserum Part 1 | Veritaserum Part 3 | Veritaserum Part 4 | Veritaserum Part 5 |
Are you guys interested in reading another part of this fic? Drop me a comment or send me an ask, if you'd like to read more. (or if you'd like to be tagged in the next part.)
I'm tagging anyone who said they wanted to read a part two below!
@gaygirldrarryblog, @londonthunderr, @tardis-221b, @nv-md, @chinike, @somevelvetmorniing, @drarrywritar, @rheya1864
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28whitepeonies · 2 years ago
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hey why do you think harry's political stand is problematic? am i missing something?
Hi anon
I’m not really keen on ‘problematic’ it’s not how I would usually frame any of my thoughts on someone’s behaviour or views. I don’t think Harry’s politics are worse than a lot of peoples, it’s simply that his politics when he shares them aren’t very good and most of the time they show a very different world view than mine.
I can give you a couple of examples but I think it’s worth thinking about what matters to you, and this shit both matters and is of great interest to me so I like to talk about it.
Harry’s political views are on the most basic level, conservative (small c) and individualistic - which is not a political view I share. The things he has said over the years point to limited to no understanding of how social change happens or the reality of the world in which I, and most of his fans, live.
I find his political statements when he makes them both surface level and infuriating. ‘End gun violence’ is not radical, I think most celebrities would agree and probably a large chunk of his fans, and I find that kind of statement close to meaningless.
‘No one can tell you what to do with your body’ is both incorrect and shifts the focus onto the individual and away from the state which is legislating and mandating on what you can do with your body. It’s not a ‘rallying cry’ or whatever other nonsense someone has tried to suggest.
When Harry frames these issues, he never acknowledges that there is a fight going on, or that collective action is how you can achieve change. Instead he tells individuals that no one can tell them what to do, despite governments making it socially, legally and economically impossible for them to access healthcare that they want or need.
He wears t-shirts that say things like ‘women are smarter’ or goes on BLM marches and says he’s reading books by Black women but continues to write misogynistic song lyrics and make business choices that benefit almost only White men, and he’s never addressed the mocking picture he took in a Native American headdress. He brings Union Jack’s on stage and asked fans to have a round of applause for the Queen after she died a few weeks ago.
And the last thing I’ll say, I grew up working class in a little mining village in Scotland with a grandparent who was a miner and four siblings born in the 70’s/80’s whose lives were shaped by the miners strike and the subsequent closures and the impact that had the local economy and jobs. It’s not just mines, Scotlands steel industry was destroyed and unemployment grew, the police response to the miners strikes in Scotland under her government and the callousness with which people were treated is as unforgivable today as it was in 1985. That’s without starting on the poll tax which was introduced a year earlier in Scotland than England, or wider than Scotland the response to Hillsborough, introduction of section 28, response to HIV/AIDS and miners strikes across the UK, and the police brutality that came with it. I could talk about Thatcher all day, that’s not what you asked - but Harry has done nothing to suggest to me that he wouldn’t repeat his ‘RIP Baroness Thatcher’ in some form if she died again today.
There’s plenty more I could go on about but I’m going to stick to what I said yesterday, Harry is far more likely to vote Tory than I ever am so we’re never going to be close to being in the same book nevermind on the same page politically x
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idreamtofmanderleyagain · 4 years ago
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Hot takes about Severus Snape are a wierdly decent glimpse into how a person with progressive values analyses things. Literally every time someone talks about Snape, it’s like this tiny window into how one-dimentionally people actually think.
Recently saw a twitter post that was a fantastic example. Here’s how it goes (paraphrasing):
Person A:“Snape is POC and Queer coded, that’s why you guy’s hate him uwu lol.”
Person B: “Actually I hate him because he was mean and abusive to children under his care uwu but go off I guess lol”
Both of these takes are designed to be dramatic and/or reactionary. They each use partial truths to paint very broad strokes. These are get-em-in-one-hit quips. This is virtue signalling, if you’ll excuse that loaded phrase. Nobody had a substantial conversation, but now everyone who sees their statement knows the high ground they took.
At least a hundred other people chimed in to add their own little quippy hot takes into play, none of which add anything significant, but clearly made everyone feel very highly of themselves.
So many layers of nuance and complex analysis is completely lost in this kind of discussion. On tumblr, you get more of this kind of bullshit, but you don’t have a word count limit, so you guys just spew endless mountains of weak overblown evidence backing up your bullshit arguments, none of which was really about engaging in a real conversation anyway.
Here’s the thing about Snape.
He is a childhood domestic abuse victim. His abuser is a muggle.
He becomes a student at a magical school that takes him away from his abuser and immediately instills in him the idea that being a part of this magical world is a badge of self-worth, empowerment, and provides safety and security - provided that he keeps in line.
There is a war is being waged in that world over his right to exist (he is a half blood).
He is a marginalized person within the context of the narrative, forced to constantly be in the same living space as the children of his own oppressors who are being groomed and recruited into a hate group militia (the pureblood slytherins). They are in turn trying to do the same to him.
He is marginalized person bullied by children who are also part of his oppressor group, but who have “more liberal” leanings and aren’t direct about why he’s being targeted (the mauraders are all purebloods, Sirius, who was the worst offender, was raised in a bigoted household, the same one that produced Bellatrix.).
He had a crush on a girl who is a muggleborn, and therefore she is considered even lesser than him and carries a stigma to those who associate with her. That girl was his only real friend. In his entire life.
For both Snape and Lily, allying themselves to a pureblood clique within their own houses would be a great way of shielding themselves from a measure of the bigotry they were probably facing. There would have been obvious pressure from those cliques to disconnect with one and other.
Every other person who associates with Snape in his adulthood carries some sort of sociopolitical or workplace (or hate cult) baggage with their association. Some of them will physically harm and/or kill him if he steps out of line. He hasn’t at any point had the right environment to heal and adjust from these childhood experiences. Even his relationship with Dumbledore is charged with constant baggage, including the purebloods who almost killed him during their bullying getting a slap on the wrist, the werewolf that almost killed him as a child being placed in an authority position over new children, etc. Dumbledore is canonically manipulative no matter his good qualities, and he has literally been manipulating Snape for years in order to cultivate a necessary asset in the war.
He is a person who is not in the stable mental state necessary to be teaching children, whom has been forced to teach children. While also playing the role of double agent against the hate group militia, the one that will literally torture you for mistakes or backtalk or just for fun. The one that will torture and kill him if he makes one wrong move.
Is the math clicking yet? From all of this, it’s not difficult to see how everything shitty about Snape was cultivated for him by his environment. Snape was not given great options. Snape made amazingly awful choices, and also some amazingly difficult, courageous ones. Snape was ultimately a human who had an extremely bad life, in which his options were incredibly grim and limited.
In fact, pretty much every point people make about how shitty Snape is as a person makes 100% logical sense as something that would emerge from how he was treated. Some if it he’s kind of right about, some of it is the inevitable reality of suffering, and some of it is part of the cycle of abuse and harm.
Even Snape’s emotional obsession with Lily makes logical sense when you have the perspective that he literally has no substantial positive experiences with other human beings that we know of, and he has an extreme, soul destroying guilt complex over her death. Calling him an Incel mysoginist nice guy projects a real-world political ideology and behavior that does not really apply to the context of what happened to him and her.
Even Snape’s specific little acts of cruelty to certain students is a reflection of his own life experiences. He identifies with Neville; more specifically, he identifies his own percieved emotional weaknesses in his childhood in Neville. There’s a very sad reason there why he feels the urge to be so harsh.
Snape very clearly hates himself, in a world where everyone else hates him, too. Imagine that, for a second. Imagine total internal and external hatred, an yearning for just a little bit of true connection. For years. Imagine then also trying to save that world, even if it’s motivated by guilt. Even if nobody ever knows you did it and you expect to die a miserable death alone.
There are more elements here to consider, including the way Rowling described his looks (there may be something in there re: ugliness and swarthy stereotyping). These are just the things that stand out the most prominently to me.
J.K. Rowling is clearly also not reliable as an imparter of moral or sociopolitical philosophies. I don’t feel that her grasp of minority experiences is a solid one, considering how she picks and chooses who is acceptable and who is a threat.
All of that said, this is a logically consistent character arc. Within the context of his narrative, Snape is a marginalized person with severe PTSD and emotional instability issues who has absolutely no room available to him for self-improvement or healing, and never really has. And yes, he’s also mean, and caustic, and verbally abusive to the students. He’s also a completey miserable, lonely person.
There are elements in his character arc that mirror real world experiences quite well. If nothing else, Rowling is enough of an emotional adult to recognise these kinds of things and portray something that feels authentic.
In my opinion, it’s not appropriate to whittle all this down by comparing him directly to the real world experiences of marginalized groups - at least if you are not a part of the group you are comparing him to. There have been many individuals who have compared his arc to their own personal experiences of marginalization, and that is valid. But generally speaking, comparing a white straight dude to people who are not that can often be pretty offensive. This is not a valuable way to discuss either subject.
Also, I believe that while it’s perfectly okay to not like Snape as a character, many of the people who act like Person B are carrying Harry’s childhood POV about Snape in their hearts well into their own adulthood. And if nothing else, Rowling was attempting to say something here about how our perspectives (should) grow and change as we emotionally mature.  She doesn’t have to be a good person herself to have expressed something true about the world in this instance, and since this story is a part of our popular culture, people have a right to feel whatever way they do about this story and it’s characters.
The complexity of this particular snapshot of fictionalized marginalization, and what it reveals about the human experience, cannot be reduced down to “he’s an abuser so he’s not worth anyone’s time/you are bad for liking him.”
And to be honest, I think that it reveals a lot about many of us in progressive spaces, particularly those of us who less marginalized but very loud about our values, that we refuse to engage with these complexities in leu of totally condemning him. Particularly because a lot of the elements I listed above are indeed reflected in real world examples of people who have experienced marginalization and thus had to deal with the resulting emotional damage, an mental illness, and behavior troubles, and bad decisions. Our inability to address the full scope of this may be a good reflection of how we are handling the complexity of real world examples.
Real people are not perfect angels in their victimhood. They are just humans who are victims, and we all have the capacity to be cruel and abusive in a world where we have been given cruelty and abuse. This is just a part of existing. If you cannot sympathise with that, or at least grasp it and aknowledge it and respect the people who are emotionally drawn to a character who refects that, then you may be telling on yourself to be honest.
To be honest, this is especially true if you hate Snape but just really, really love the Mauraduers. You have a right to those feelings, but if you are moralizing this and judging others for liking Snape, you’ve confessed to something about how you’ve mentally constructed your personal values in a way I don’t think you’ve fully grasped yet.
I have a hard time imagining a mindset where a story like Snape’s does not move one to empathy and vicarious grief, if I’m honest. I feel like some people really just cannot be bothered to imagine themselves in other people’s shoes, feeling what they feel and living like they live. I struggle to trust the social politics of people who show these kinds of colors, tbh.
But maybe that’s just me.
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k-s-morgan · 4 years ago
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What He Grows to Be: Snippet 8
This snippet differs from others a bit because it's concerned with a specific arc more than with Tom and Harry. But that's why I picked it as without context and spoilers, strictly Harry-and-Tom scenes might start looking repetitive :D
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Tom woke up in an excellent mood, the lines from Harry’s letter still dancing fresh in his memory. For a while, he stayed in his bed, mouthing them and enjoying the rush of pleasure doing so gave him. When he finally got up, he was met with tense faces of Lestrange, Black, and Mulciber. They were sitting on their beds silently, seemingly waiting for him to awake.
“What happened?” Tom asked sharply. His first irrational thought was that Harry got hurt, but rationality kicked in before panic spread, reminding him of how impossible the notion was. Even in the unlikely event that something happened, he’d be the first to feel it — in every sense of this word.
No one said anything. Instead, Lestrange gave him a newspaper. He looked so enraged that Tom was surprised he managed to stay silent.
The first thing he saw was a huge title with shaky letters: “The Heir of Slytherin — Or Is He?”
His heart twitched uncomfortably. Pursing his lips in preparation for what might be coming, Tom skimmed through the article.
Tom Slytherin is undoubtedly a rising star in the Wizarding Britain. His views are finding support among all kinds of wizards and witches, and that’s because he managed to occupy a middle ground between old pureblood ancestry and progressive pro-Muggle-born attitudes. An heir of Salazar Slytherin who believes in equality irrespective of one’s blood status; a prodigy in dark arts who became a vanquisher of the Dark Lord. Now he’s about to join the Ministry by taking a position that was crafted specifically for him. But is he really who he says he is?
Few of you know that Tom Slytherin was previously known as Tom Riddle. A half-blood himself, it’s barely surprising that he chose to appeal to both purebloods and Muggle-borns in his agenda to take power. His talks about equality and his claims that people grossly misinterpreted Salazar Slytherin’s beliefs are certainly inspiring, but are they true? Or is Tom Riddle a liar?
He can speak with snakes, that much is certain. It means that at least at some point, Tom Riddle’s bloodline was mixed with that of Salazar Slytherin. However, this alone does not give him the right to call himself his heir and even more, make statements about what Slytherin wanted and which ideals he supported. As reliable historical sources indicate, Slytherin built a Chamber of Secrets somewhere in Hogwarts for his heir to unseal. The question is, if Tom Riddle is indeed his heir, why hasn’t he done so yet? Where is the Chamber of Secrets and is the boy even aware of its existence? He told us that his knowledge about Slytherin’s true aims came from the unique books he has in his possession. Ignoring the fact that no one has ever seen these books personally, do they not mention anything about the Chamber? It doesn’t seem likely. In fact, it seems downright impossible. And if Tom Riddle lied about Slytherin’s beliefs to increase his popularity among the population, what else has he lied about?
No one has witnessed his alleged victory over Grindelwald. When asked to share his memories about it through the Pensieve, Tom Riddle refused. An anonymous source close to him confessed that the boy is highly manipulative and prone to exaggerations. He is indirectly linked to the murders of Charlus Potter and a Muggle woman who lived in his neighbourhood. So is he a hero? Or is he an impostor with delusions of grandeur who deceives everyone and ruthlessly disposes of people who do not support him?
One lie leads to another, and before you know it, Wizarding Britain will be ruled by a new Dark Lord who tricked us all by his alleged vague connection with Salazar Slytherin. Before giving him power, we have to find who he really is and what he is hiding.
“Dumbledore,” Tom said. His voice was toneless, but rage was trembling under his skin, trying to pour outside through his magic. “He’s behind this article.”
“Are you sure?” Mulciber frowned. “Why would he do this? He should be thrilled that his precious Muggle-borns are finally being treated with respect. All interviews you’ve given paint you as their supporter, so why would he—”
“Because he doesn’t trust Tom,” Lestrange snapped. He was pacing now, his face agitated. “The bastard always hated him — all of us. I just didn’t think his hatred would be stronger than his own hopes for equality.”
“Neither did I,” Tom replied distantly. His eyes went back to the article.
He’d been going out of his way to meet Harry’s ideals and shape his political aims around them. In many ways, Dumbledore’s ideals matched Harry’s. Mulciber was right, he should have been pleased to see them promoted. But Lestrange also had a point — Dumbledore’s reservations happened to be stronger. He must believe that Tom was playing a long-term game, and that as soon as he got the real power, he would reveal his true goals. Whatever Dumbledore imagined them to be, it must have been terrible enough to make him step up and try to tarnish Tom’s reputation.
“Is it true, though?” Black asked. Tom slowly looked up at him just as Lestrange whirled around in outrage.
“How can you even—” he started, but Black interrupted him.
“We never saw those books. We never really discussed the Chamber of Secrets. Do you know where it is, Tom?”
“I’ve visited it once,” Tom replied. He wasn’t lying — he saw the Chamber of Secrets in Harry’s memories. The only problem was that he had no idea how to enter it because Harry hadn’t trusted him with this information.
“You have?” Lestrange exclaimed. His ridiculously eager eyes lit up. “So you do know where it is!”
Mulciber began to grin. Black alone remained unmoved, watching him with furrowed brows.
Perhaps he sensed it was half-truth and was trying to understand what it could possibly mean. Black was smart, probably smarter than Lestrange and Mulciber combined — smarter than Tom had ever given him credit for. And right now, this was the last thing he needed. To have even his closest circle doubt him… just because Dumbledore felt threatened and wanted to be petty…
His rage darkened, turning into something vicious and vindictive. A hundred of possible counter-plans shot up in his mind, but they all crashed against one simple truth.
He had no clue where the Chamber of Secrets was. And now that the idea was planted in people’s heads, they would not let it go. He’d have to prove he knew its location or have everyone doubt him.
If Harry could just tell him…
No. He wasn’t going to bother Harry with it. What they had was more significant than any rumours or doubts that would circulate around him. Tom would rather be known as a liar and an impostor than risk stretching the trust he and Harry had been building all this time. If Harry wanted, he would tell him, but he wasn’t going to ask or rely on this possibility.
He’d have to find the Chamber by himself and make Dumbledore choke on his ‘anonymous’ testimony.
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baixueagain · 4 years ago
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I haven't read hp in a long time, so I may be wrong. But wasn't the thing about house-elves wanting to stay slaves also a critic of Hermione's behavior and how she thought that just she was doing the right thing in her mindset didn't mean it was the same thing for the people concerned, and that she was basically trampling over them to "enlighten" them?
Yeahhhh the house elf thing is...well, honestly I don’t actually think it’s nearly as bad as people say it is. The metaphor she’s using is (like the werewolf thing) insensitive and could’ve been handled way, way better, but the fundamental message of it isn’t actually that controversial or hideous.
First of all, there’s the whole idea that JKR invented a race of slaves. I’m leery of this statement, because throughout HP, especially in the early books when house elves are introduced, JKR plays a lot with classic folklore. House elves/fairies, while not being as well-known in America, are a pretty common trope in European and British folklore. There are dozens of stories and legends and folk tales about how people can leave out butter or other things for the spirits of the house (often elves or fairies), and that in exchange the spirits would clean and do other chores for you. So JKR picked that up and ran with it, and asked, okay, what if those stories were real, but wizards figured out a way to manipulate that traditional exchange into a form of exploitation?
JKR pretty clearly problematizes what’s happened to the house elves from the get-go when we meet Dobby. Those who treat elves as subservient and inherently lesser are consistently portrayed as straight up evil (Lucius Malfoy, the Ministry statue, etc). Harry isn’t actually that dismissive of Hermione’s views, either. He wrestles with it, too, and feels distinctly uncomfortable, but for some time he doesn’t really seem to know what else to do except to go along with it - which, while not a good thing, is a completely normal reaction for a young teenager to have when faced with that kind of situation. Furthermore, while in general house elves are “said” to be happy with their situation, the two major house elf characters (Dobby and Kreacher) are portrayed as distinctively unhappy about it from the moment of their introduction, though Kreacher has clearly internalised things. Even Sirius’s mistreatment of Kreacher is portrayed as a massive flaw in his character and a giveaway that he’s not exactly the perfect Cool Uncle Type that we originally see him as. Finally, don’t forget that one of the most triumphant moments of DH is Kreacher getting fed the fuck up with the way he’s been treated all his life and leading what amounts to a house elf revolution against those who would keep house elves completely and utterly subservient for the rest of time.
As for Hermione, IMO she’s portrayed as having her heart in the right place but going about things all wrong, to the point that her ignorance about the situation becomes comedic. Which...honestly, that comes across as a pretty apt criticism of the “saviour” types who really sincerely do want to fix the world but end up just talking over the people they’re trying to help - and ultimately pushing those people away.
JKR never actually questions whether or not slavery is a moral evil. What is questioned, however, is this: when someone in an unhappy situation says that they’re happy, how far can and should we go to help them without it becoming a violation of their consent and free will? And that’s not at all a new question in fantasy and sci-fi. Star Trek has asked it. Doctor Who has asked it. Even the Hitchhikers Guide books have asked it. 
Example: I have women relatives who truly sincerely and whole-heartedly believe that women were put on this earth to be subservient to men. They were raised to believe this and have never questioned it. If you asked them if they’re happy, they’d say yes, and tbh, I believe them: they are lucky enough that the men they’ve married are legitimately kind and loving husbands. However, I still find their situation to be morally abhorrent and I fundamentally disagree with how they view femininity and marriage. So what can I do? I’ve had arguments with them about it, and they won’t budge. I’ve tried to expose them to literature on women’s liberation and they dismiss it. In fact, it’s only made them get defensive and dig in their heels, because they resented me telling them that their worldview was an unhealthy and wrong one. Who was I, after all, to tell them that they were wrong to be happy with their lives? Am I supposed to end their marriages by force and strong-arm them into feminism, or is that in and of itself a violation of their consent and free will?
There’s no easy answers to those questions. There never has been and never will be. And I think that’s what Rowling was attempting to wrestle with. Did she do it clumsily? Yes. Should she have chosen a different metaphor other than slavery? Very probably. Is it open to criticism? Yes again. Has she written other cringe-worthily bad and ignorant things into HP? Absolutely - Cho Chang is the shining example, IMO, though there are plenty more.
However, I also think it’s extremely disingenuous to paint the house elf plotline as promoting/condoning slavery, telling people that they should be content with their lot in life, or mocking those who try to challenge the status quo. That reading of HP ignores a metric shitload of evidence to the contrary, especially in the later books. And while I love literary criticism and think there’s plenty to be criticised in the HP books, this is one of those things that I truly do believe is not only unfair, but the product of extremely selective reading.
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iguessweallcrazyithinktho · 4 years ago
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can you do one where Harry is married to a black girl and they have a kid together in the media doesn't believe that its his kid-? 🙈
The media
WARNING: angst, slight fluff at the end
Author note: the kids name is Jasper
Tumblr media
Harry loved his baby so much. The smiles, the laughs, the random hugs and kisses, everything thing about being a dad to his little boy was amazing. But unfortunately the media had another idea.
Some people saw yours and harry's relationship as fake or PR. Even after you both got married and had your son they still thought it was fake and even worse they thought your son was another man's baby.
It wasn't like harry to get pissed off over something that the media says but that took the cake. He knew for a fact that Jasper was his, and you weren't a cheater. He hated the media for their false information just because you were a black woman.
-
The TV in the family room played a kids show as Jasper watched. Harry on the other hand was in the kitchen cutting up some apple for Jasper's lunch.
His mind was blank at the moment, he wasn't thinking about anything other than trying not to cut his fingers off. As soon as he finished the last apple he got a notification on his phone.
Harry sat the knife down and picked up the phone that was on the counter. He opened it to see an article written about him.
Is Jasper Harry's child?
Harry cringed as he read that. Of course Jasper is his child. Harry began to read the article and he grew more and more pissed. He knew he shouldn't be pissed but he's seen far to many articles like that.
"fuckin' assholes." Harry mumbled under his breath. He didn't notice at first but Jasper walked into the kitchen and stopped right behind the kitchen island so harry couldn't see him. "Assholes." He repeated.
Harry looked up with wide eyes. "Hey don't say that." He placed his phone on the counter and picked up his curly hair twin. Jasper giggled uncontrollably as Harry tickled his tummy and kissed his cheek.
"daddy stopped." He screamed out as he pushed Harry away. Harry pulled away with a laugh. "Ok 'm sorry." He placed Jasper back down, "alright, ready for lunch?"
Jasper nodded as he looked up at harry. Harry grabbed a plate and placed Jasper's sliced apples and sandwich on it. Jasper took a seat and harry placed the plate in front of him. "I'm going to go talk to Mama; you stay here, call me if you need anything okay?" Harry placed a kiss on Jasper's head, grabbed his phone, before he walked off towards your office where you were working hard.
He knocked before he walked in. You looked up at him with a smile. "Hi love." You said. Harry smiled softly before he walked further into the room. "Hi love, uh I think we really need to talk about this." Harry said as he unlocked his phone. Once it was open he handed it to you. You read it.
"what the hell is wrong with people." You said as you finished. Harry ran his left hand through his hair as he nodded. "I know they crazy. I'm to make a statement because this is pissing me."
You breathed out thinking about how much better that could be but there will of course be people who will make it seem like you told him to say.
"harry it's fine. they're obviously jealous. It doesn't effect me anymore because I know they're bored." You went back to writing but harry wasn't done talking.
"I can't stand it. I just can't sit here and let them keep spreading false and stupid information. I just I can't." Harry picked up his phone. "I'm going to call Jeffery and I'm going to film a video statement for everyone who keeps saying Jasper's not mine.
Harry gave you a quick kiss before he left the room. He headed back to the kitchen; Jasper wasn't in his seat anymore, instead he was in the living room jamming to the kids song playing on the TV. Harry took that time to text Jeff and tell him what he was going to do.
Jeff quickly agreed with it seeing that he saw the article himself. Harry went to his home studio, sat up his camera, and started making a video.
"hi it's harry here. I wanted to make this video for everyone. I've been seeing a lot of uh videos and articles going around about my family, how my son isn't mine and how my wife isn't loyal. I want to say those things aren't true. My son is mine, and I know he's mine. It's very hard to keep seeing videos and articles on false things about my wife and son. When I say treat people with kindness, I mean everyone not just people you know personal because you're words can be very hateful. So please treat people wi-,"
Harry was stopped mid sentence when he heard the door open. "Daddy." Jasper walked in with his truck in his hand. "Can you play with me?" He climbed on harry's lap.
"I have to film this video. Can you wait?" Jasper looked at the camera and smiled like he always does. Harry laughed.
"like I said treat people with kindness. Can you say treat people with kindness?"
Jasper looked at harry before looking at the camera. "Treat people with kindness." Jasper waved at the camera with harry. After a few seconds harry got up and turned off his camera.
He had to edit it a little but when he did people came straight to his defense. Harry wasn't much worried about that defense but he was hoping his message got out to the negative press.
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unmaskedagain · 5 years ago
Text
To all Guys a Chat Loved Before
Okay, this is it. I’ve been working on this story for over a week. It’s seventy pages and twenty thousand words. I basically wrote you a short story. Enjoy it. Review. 
I’m not fond of Rom-Coms and rarely if ever watch Romantic movies. But there are a few that i’ve liked. So THROUGH OUT THIS i’ve sprinkled some of my favorite lines from my favorite romantic movies over the years. Some also came from tv shows. See if you can point them out.
This is Adrien-centered fic. It’s also slash.
Don’t you wish that people came with warning labels?
           Adrien did. He wished more than anything because his life would be so much easier if everyone could see each other’s warning labels.
Bustier: Terrible teacher. Needs to please everyone. Hates confrontation.
Lila: Waring massive Liar, manipulative shrew.
His father: Workaholic, possible sociopath. Might be allergic to hugs and any affection whatsoever.
Adrien: A little needy. Emotionally scarred. Touch starved. Famous. Trust issues. Lacks some basic social skills. Probably going to be in therapy for the rest of his life. Likes to run around in a skintight leather bodysuit.
           You know? The basics.
           Okay, maybe that’s too much. Too personal. Fine. Whatever.
           But at the very least, if he could meet someone and just know, you know?
           Know that this is the one.
           This is it.
           This one.
           They’re the one that’s gonna break your heart.
           Adrien’s life would be so much easier if he could at least get that one warning.
           Maybe he’d run the other way. But maybe he wouldn’t. Adrien had a terrible habit of always making the stupid choice.
           Still, it would be nice to know before he gets into deep.
           Before his heart isn’t just broken…
           It's shattered beyond repair.
Iron’s Kid: When did you realize you weren’t like other guys?
Chat Galore: I was twelve. You?
           The first time Adrien realized he might not be like other guys his age came AFTER he put on a magic ring and ran around Paris as a superhero in black spandex. And yes, that statement alone makes him realize how insane he sounds.
           But in his defense…
           Okay, there was no defense. He didn’t need to defend himself. There was nothing wrong with him. He knew that. There was nothing wrong with…
Iron’s Kid: Fourteen. And it took me completely by surprise. Like a bite in the neck.
           Adrien always really liked his penpal. It had been Chloe’s idea. Adrien signed up when he was thirteen, anonymously, through a program at school and was given an American penpal the same age as him. The schools vetted all participants in the program for authenticity. They’ve never told each other their real names, never seen so much as a picture of one another, but still, Iron’s kid became one of the few people who knew him best.
           The blond knew a lot about Iron’s Kid too. He even had a list.
Iron’s kid:
A year older than Adrien.
Huge geek like Adrien.
He was a guy.
He loved Legos
Said he had brown hair and eyes.
He was bisexual.
He was really funny.
Really smart. Like Genius smart.
He was an intern at Stark Industries.
He was a huge iron man fan and adored Spiderman a bit as any New Yorker did.
He loved superheroes and memes (like a lot) and stayed up late a lot.
He made as many puns as Adrien did as Chat Noir.
.           They got along really well. They texted constantly. And, Iron’s Kid slowly became one of Adrien’s dearest friends. After the first year of being Penpals, Adrien asked if Iron’s Kid wanted to meet. The answer was no. Adrien asked Iron’s Kid at least once a year if they could meet up (or skype or trade pictures); the answer was always No. It was only after Adrien revealed that he was a supermodel, that Iron’s Kid revealed he had a famous face too and just wanted to be treated normally.
           That did stop Adrien from still asking once a year. Iron’s Kid was one of the few people, outside of being Chat Noir that Adrien could just be himself with.
           But unlike Iron’s Kid…
           Honestly, Adrien always kind of knew, ya know?
           He was always as into Harry Styles as Chloe was. Maybe a bit more.
When he binged watched Stranger Things with Marinette; he noticed Finn Wolfhard as much as the bluenette did.
Maybe, he noticed Kim’s biceps just a bit too much.
           So he started to suspect early on.
           He didn’t know for sure until…
           Luka.
           And that’s the worst (and craziest) part because knew Luka. He had been sort of, kind of, friends with the guitarist for quite some time. He had never even thought of the blue-haired boy like that.
           Until one day, Adrien, Marinette, and Luka were playing video games after school. They were just laughing and chilling out like they always do. It was perfectly ordinary.
           Then out of nowhere, Adrien noticed just how blue Luka’s eyes were. Then that was it. Suddenly the blond couldn’t help but think how cool Luka was, how funny he was, how artistic. And Adrien was really self-conscious. When Luka was in the same room as him, Adrien was hyper-aware of everything his own body was doing and everything he was saying.
           It was like he existed outside it for a few seconds and was just watching the chaos.
How does my hair look?
Why did I JUST say that? No, don’t say that THAT’s even worse.
What is wrong with you?
Don’t stand like that! Who stands like that?
Does it look weird?
Am I being weird?
He totally thinks I’m weird.
Iron’s Kid: How could you NOT have seen Princess Bride?!!!!!?!!
Chat Galore: It doesn’t look like not my type of movie
Iron’s Kid: But you’ve seen the Labyrinth???!!! WTF
Chat Galore: It was my mom’s favorite movie!!! You haven’t seen vampire diaries yet!!!
Iron’s Kid: That is BESIDES the point. Princess Bride is a classic!!!!
Chat Galore: Oh just shut up
Iron’s Kid; As you wish.
           Adrien slowly became a blushing, stuttering mess.
           And he didn’t know how but somehow this was how Marinette figured it out what was going on.
“…You have a crush on Luka,” Marinette said slowly and quietly, one day after school as they sat in Marinette’s living room as if the words were as hard for her to get out as they were for him to hear.
The two had gotten closer as friends as a result of the Lila situation at school worsening. Once most of the class made it clear how quickly they were willing to drop Marinette for a shiny golden ticket; the blond and bluenette quickly washed their hands of the situation. They decided to let their ex-friends sink or swim on their own.
Adrien did not need fair-weather friends. Marinette was tired of being everyone’s doormat.  They decided to sit in the back together and wait for the fireworks. Surprisingly, not long after Nino joined them. The glasses-wearing boy hadn’t cared if Lila was lying or not (though Adrien and Marinette would provide him with enough evidence to convince him later), he just knew that Marinette was his childhood friend and Adrien was his best friend. Nino trusted them, and sure wasn’t going to abandon them.
That was over a year ago. Marinette, Nino, and Adrien were best friends. Then the bluenette and the blond found out they were really Ladybug and Chat Noir effectively ending their crushes on each other. (Though Marinette took a bit longer)
“No!” Adrien said quickly. “I mean, I can’t, I, uh. I used to love Ladybug, remember!”
           Marinette shrugged, “So? I dated Kagami for like three months last year, and I’d still wouldn’t say no to seven minutes in heaven with Luka. Or longer,” She smirked. “I used to like you. I’m bisexual; lots of people are.” She then tilted her head. “It’s okay if you like boys.”
           Adrien glanced down shyly. At that point, He hadn’t thought too much about his sexuality. He always figured he was straight. It was the standard some people would say. But… Did he? Did he like-like other guys like that?
           …He definitely liked Luka like that. But was it just Luka? Maybe Luka was special. And dreamy. And nice to look at. And he made Adrien’s stomach feel a little weird when he was around, “…I have a crush on Luka.”
“Everyone does,” Marinette nodded. “It’s a fact of life. He gets Kagami to blush. Chloe says he not completely awful. Hell, even Nino said, and I quote, ‘if I ever I had to pick a dude.’” She said but then her eyes widened as she looked at Adrien. “Wait! I just realized have you ever had a crush on a girl besides Ladybug? I never heard you talk about any. This is the first crush besides Ladybug.”
           Adrien blinked and then blinked again. “I went out with Kagami once,” He offered, and then gave Marinette a playful glare. “Before you stole her away from me.”
“It’s not stealing if she practically jumped into my arms,” Marinette defended with a laugh. “Don’t hate the playa!”
           The blond snorted.
“I mean, what did you like about Ladybug?” Marinette asked. “Not me! Not now. But before you knew that I was Ladybug. What did you like about her?”
           Adrien bit his lip as he thought, “She was always fun to be around. When I was with her I never had to worry, you know? I could do what I wanted, say what I wanted. There was no pressure or anything. I was just me… but more. And I liked that. It was easy being around her.”
           Marinette nodded, “Ladybug used to be the only one you could be free around,” She said. “As Chat Noir, you never had to censor yourself for fear of what your father would do. It was freedom. A type of freedom you always wanted; to be wild and carefree. You got to do that whenever you are Chat Noir, and whenever you were Chat Noir, Ladybug was there. Did you ever… you might’ve… I think you,” She sighed. “…Adrien, I don’t think you ever loved Ladybug. I think you loved how you got to feel when she was around. You might have equated the two.”
           It went quiet as Adrien thought about what his friend said. It helped that his crush had been long gone so he could view it without the bias he used to have. And yeah, the more he thought about it, the more he realized Marinette was right. Adrien had been more infatuated with the fun and freedom of being a superhero, being Chat Noir that he ever was with Ladybug.
           He also comprehended that His crush had ended it rather instantly the second he found out who was behind the mask. Marinette was amazing; the girl of most guys’ dreams. Yet Adrien just didn’t see her like that. He didn’t have romantic feelings for her. It was then he realized that no matter who was behind the mask, what girl, Adrien wouldn’t have been happy. “She wasn’t real to me,” He admitted. “Not really. Ladybug was this unattainable dream. Anything was possible with her. I got to think up outlandish fantasies all the time of what our future could be and nothing was too extreme or impossible. The second she became real, the fantasy ended, and… I didn’t want her anymore; not like that.” He told Marinette. “Don’t get me wrong, I love you! You’re practically my sister. You’re the best! But… It is strange, I know.”
           Marinette shook her head, “It’s not!” She would know better than most what it was like when the fantasy ended and you had faced reality. “We’re kids. Feelings are all haywire.”
“It’ll get easier.” He asked. “I mean it has to. Soon, right?”
“No!” Sabine, Marinette’s mom, called from the kitchen. “Try in about a decade. If you’re lucky!”
“Mama!” Marinette yelled as she face-palmed. “Private conversation.”
“In our very public family room,” Sabine sassed back. “Adrien, honey, besides Luka, have you ever thought about any boys like that?”
           Marinette just sighed.
           Adrien turned bright red. He had more or less been adopted by the Dupain-chengs, and he was still getting used to having an involved parent. “I, uh, like Kim’s arms.”
“Who doesn’t?” Marinette asked. “Drool-worthy.”
“Harry Styles,” Adrien offered. “I like his face.” The bluenette snorted, earning herself a face full of the pillow. “Oh, you are so helpful!”  After that, they erupted into a pillow fight.
Chat Galore: I’m late
Iron’s Kid: For what?
Chat Galore: Reality.
Iron’s Kid: Oooh someone’s feeling deep today. What’s up?
Chat Galore: I’m
           Adrien paused writing.
Iron’s Kid: You’re…
Iron’s kid: Chat? You still there?
Chat Galore: I’m gay.
Chat Galore: You’re the first person I’ve told.
Iron’s Kid: I’m honored. And proud of you man.
Chat Galore: TY!!
Iron’s Kid: So who made you realize you were finally into Luka?
Chat Galore: …I hate you. GO AWAY!
Iron’s Kid: As you wish.
           It took another month, and a lot of introspection but Adrien finally came to terms with it, and while getting ice cream with his friends, he said, “So, yeah, I’m gay.”
“And the sky’s blue,” Chloe shrugged.
           Marinette elbowed, “That’s not how we’re supposed to react.”
           The blonde huffed, “What? We’re supposed to pretend to be surprised. I’ve known him since we were in diapers. I was there through OUR One Direction phase. We were just little kids but just because he blocked it out or whatever doesn’t mean I forgot he called dips on marrying Harry.”
“All good, dude,” Nino told Adrien. “Still my boy.” He told him. “Does this mean you’re finally gonna ask out Luka?”
“NINO!” Marinette groaned. “I didn’t tell them. I swear!”
“What?” Nino licked his ice cream. “It was obvious Sunshine digs Luka.”
           Adrien’s froze. “…How obvious?” Dread slowly crept onto his face.
           His friends quickly went to assure him.
“It’s barely noticeable!” Marinette said.
“Everyone wants Luka; he probably doesn’t even realize it at this point!” Went, Nino.
“It’s not as obvious as the crush Marinette had on you!”
“Chloe! Seriously?!”
“What!”
Chat Galore: My friends suck as much as you!
Iron’s kid: Ahh, they call you out on the Luka thing too?
Chat Galore: Fuck off
Iron’s Kid: lol
Iron’s Kid: As you wish.
           Adrien just groaned, seriously wishing the earth would just swallow him up. It was official all of his friends were completely awful.
           Not long after he came out to his father, Nathalie, and Gorilla. His father barely blinked twice and told him not to make a fool of himself. Nathalie scheduled when he’ll announce it officially on twitter. Gorilla at least hugged him.
           Lila attempted to convince the class that Adrien was just confused and hiding his feelings for her. But even that was a bit too much to buy. Instead, the class shot the Italian girl pitying looks for being in love with an unreachable guy. Lila seethed with fury as what she thought was her ticket to fame and fortune going up in flame.
Pretty much everything stayed normal though. There were no big fireworks. Adrien never confessed to Luka about his crush; instead joined his dozens of other admirers in mooning from a distance.
           Adrien was fine with that. He wasn’t looking for anything for his life to radically change. Or to completely lose his mind over some guy (though he did come close with Luka). In fact, he was rather happy if that never happened.
           But since when does he ever get what he wants?
Iron’s Kid: If you could punch anyone in the face, who would it be?
Chat Galore: What did Flash do now?
Chat Galore: And the answer’s: Lila. But Marinette has dips. And then Chloe. Then Kagami for some reason. I’m also after Nino, which doesn’t seem fair.
Chat Galore: …There’s a line to punch Lila.
Iron’s Kid: lol.
Iron’s Kid: Flash embarrassed me in front of Liz. He got everyone at this party chanting the stupid nickname he gave me.
Chat Galore: What a jerk? I vote revenge!
Iron’s Kid: What happened to the high road?
Chat Galore: It went nowhere. Time to light someone’s car on fire now.
Chat Galore: OOOOHHH!!!! Get MJ to put a porn virus on his computer! Let it hit during that school project you guys got next week.
Iron’s Kid: You’re a cruel man. And you and MJ are never allowed meet!
Chat Galore: Lol
Iron’s Kid: I can’t do that. Revenge isn’t my thing. I wouldn’t even care if Liz wasn’t there.
Chat Galore: You really like her, huh?
Iron’s Kid: Yeah I do
           Adrien grinned at his phone. Iron had fallen hard for Liz a while back, and it was the cutest thing when he gushed over her. Plus it gave the blond some relief to know that there was someone as bad as him when it came to romance.
Iron’s Kid: So my dads suck
Chat Galore: We should start a club!
Iron’s kid: Lol.
Chat Galore: Your dad or your pops?
Iron’s Kid: Both. They totally freaked out on me! They’re so overprotective it is insane.
Chat Galore: Been there. Am there.
Iron’s Kid: Me and dad totally got into it. He thinks I’m reckless and stupid. Like I don’t know what I’m doing. I just wish he’d trust me
Chat Galore: Stop treating you like you’re a little kid?
Iron’s Kid: Exactly!!!!! I can do this! I know I can! If he just trusts me!
Iron’s Kid: Instead I’m grounded.
Chat Galore: What are you going to do?
Iron’s Kid: Whatever I have to!
Chat Galore: just be safe, ok? I don’t know what’s going on. And I know you can’t tell me. But just Be. Careful. I’d miss you.
Iron’s Kid: I’d miss you too.
Chat Galore: Goodnight!!
Iron’s Kid: As you wish.
           It was Christmas. Adrien was staying with Marinette’s family while his father was away on business and avoiding all things happiness. Marinette told him that her Uncle was coming. Her dad’s great uncle from New York. He broke up with his boyfriend not too long ago and wanted to get out and see more of the world.
           Adrien had expectations of what Marinette’s great uncle would look like – like any Uncle. Old, kind of fat, who made way to many dad jokes, and smelled like mothballs. And he definitely wore tacky clothes.
           The guy who walked into the Dupain-Cheng home, following a laughing Tom Dupain, was NOT that guy!!
           First of all, he was young; like two or three years older than Adrien and Marinette. He wore was pale with dark eyes and hair. He was dressed in all black and wore an old black leather bomber jacket. He was unnaturally handsome.
“Who is that?” Adrien hissed.
“My uncle,” Marinette said. “I told you he was coming.”
“How is that your great Uncle?”
           Marinette shrugged, “Magic. Demigod. Prince of the Underworld. What can you do?” She said. “His name’s Nico.”
           Adrien’s life was already so bizarre he didn’t even question the demigod part. All he could see what Nico. His mind turned to mush. “Boing!” He pointed.
“That’s my Uncle, Adrien,” Mariette reminded him
“Sweet! I would be your Aunt,” Adrien said. “Uncle. I don’t care. I’ll be whatever he wants me to be.”
           Marinette laughed and got off the couch to greet the newcomer, “Uncle Nico!”
“Marinette!” Nico smiled as he hugged his niece. “I told you to call me Nico.”
“Uncle is a bit weird,” Marinette nodded in agreement as she let go.
           As soon Nico let go, he found his arms full of again but this time by a blond, “Uncle Nico.”
“Adrien, right,” Nico said as he hugged the smaller boy, “I’m not your Uncle.”
“Even better!”
           Marinette snorted and pulled her friend away.
           Nico looked them up and down. “Aww, it’s good you two are still so close. I still got that picture your dad sent me of you two in Halloween costumes; Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.” He said. “Adorable. You two must have been, what eleven?” He shrugged and smiled at Adrien. “It’s been a while. You grew up gorgeous.” And then walked off to say hello to Sabine.
           Adrien turned bright red and a big grin spread across his face.
           Marinette crossed her arms, and gave him a serious look, “You are not going to be my Aunt.”
“I can’t hear you!” Adrien sang. “Buh dah Bu da da Da!”
“He’s almost eighteen; physically and mentally anyway!” Marinette said. “We’re fifteen.”
“Almost sixteen,” Adrien snapped quickly. “Which is practically seventeen. Which is a skip away from eighteen. Two plus Two, you know?”
           Marinette rolled her eyes, “I know Two plus two equals four. But with your logic, two plus two is three with a wig on.”
           He hissed at her.
Chat Galore: I think I found my Liz
Iron’s Kid: Someone Completely unattainable, and probably a bad idea?
Chat Galore: MJ or Ned?
Iron’s Kid: …
Chat Galore: Seriously? Give Iron back his phone!
Iron’s Kid:
Chat Galore: WAIT! What do you mean about Liz? What’s going on? Why is she a bad idea?
           He would get a response an hour later. It was just after dark.
Iron’s Kid: Sorry! MJ took my phone!
Chat Galore: NP. What’s this about Liz?
Iron’s Kid: A good friend will ignore whatever MJ told you!
Chat Galore: A best friend’s gonna get answers out of you!
           Adrien’s phone remained silent as he waited for Iron’s reply.
Iron’s Kid: ‘sigh’ Liz’s dad a supervillain. He tried to kill me.
Chat Galore: Shit. I’m sorry. Are you okay?
Iron’s Kid: It sucks. Liz’s dad in prison. She had to move.
Chat Galore: that blows
Iron’s Kid: Yep
           Then Adrien did something daring; something he thought about doing before but just stops short of being brave enough.
           He called Iron’s kid. It rang a few times before finally answering?
“Hello?”
“Iron’s kid?” Adrien whispered.
“Chat Galore?” Was said. “You called?”
“I thought you might need someone to talk to,” Adrien said. “Really talk to. It is fine if you don’t want to. I just thought…”
“No!” Was quickly said. “This is great. I mean, yeah. I’m cool with this if you are.”
They ended up talking to each other for hours like they always did. But this time it went on even longer; to the point where Adrien was genuinely surprised to see the sun starting to rise.
It was the first Adrien began to suspect he might be falling a little bit in love with Iron’s Kid.
           It didn’t end there. As the weeks went on Iron Kid and Chat Galore kept texting and talking. Iron Kid was going through a hard time and Adrien just wanted to be there for him.
Iron’s Kid: It’s never been easy being me. I love my parents. But normal doesn’t exactly coincide with our last name
Chat Galore: It is like no one can look past it, right? They don’t see you, they see your name. It’s all they care about.
Iron’s kid: Exactly!!!!! Who I am doesn’t matter. Its who my dad is, who my pop’s is. Hell sometimes who my grandfather was, and he died way before I was even born. It’s not fair!
Chat Galore: And you never know if anyone likes you for you. Or if they just want something from you. Or from your dad. You just want people to see YOU for who you are!
Iron’s Kid: Makes it really hard to trust people. My parents always did their best to give me a normal life but
Iron’s Kid: it’s whatever I guess.
Chat Galore: It’s not whatever. And its okay to feel like this.
Iron’s Kid: It’s sometimes I feel a little lost. Or maybe just…
Iron’s Kid:  I mean, I can be surrounded by a sea of people and still feel all alone. Like no one really knows me or sees me. Then I think of you. I think of talking to you. And I don’t feel so alone anymore.
Chat Galore: I see you.
Iron’s Kid: I see you too.
           Then once more Adrien asked Iron’s Kid if he wanted to meet, even though he knew he’d be turned down. That was fine. Adrien would wait.
If Marinette thought it was over when the holidays ended, she was dead wrong. Nico got an apartment to stay in Paris and to spend time with his family.
           And Adrien got used to his brain going all gooey when Nico was around. He always said goofy things; things that made him wish he’d never learned to speak in the first place. He read books that Nico casually mentioned just so they’d have something to talk about. He did ridiculous things try to get the older guy’s attention. And whenever, Nico asked the gang if anyone wanted to hang out, Adrien would be the first to shoot up and practically yell yes.
           And all Adrien would get from Nico would be a placating smirk; the same type Nino would give his younger brothers’ when they did something outlandish to impress him.
           The weird thing was when Adrien was going all googly-eyes at Nico, they got along really, really well. They both loved art and classic noir films like Gun For hire and Laura. The two once spent an entire afternoon in the museum just talking about the pieces, ignoring the whines of Marinette and Nino who got dragged along.
           Still no matter what Adrien did Nico never took the hint to ask Adrien out. Or even hint that he was open to Adrien possibly asking him out.
           His friends got used to Adrien sighing wistfully.
“Gods’ he so handsome, it makes my face hurt,” Adrien whined.
Marinette giggled, “You’re young, you’re dumb.”
“Just so we’re clear,” Chloe pointed a fork at him that still had a bit of salad on it, “That those are not necessarily correlated. You’re just an idiot.”
           Nino leaned forward, “Bro, just ask him out!” He said with his mouth half full of pizza.
“I can’t do that!”
“Why not?” Marinette, Chloe, and Nino asked/yelled at him.
“What if he says no?” Adrien asked, because duh, why else wouldn’t he have asked Nico out already.
           Chloe glared at him, “Then you look in the mirror and remind yourself that you’re the second hottest dude, around our age, in Paris?”
“Ahh, Luka’s first,” Marinette put in.
           Nino raised his hand, “Just so we’re clear, I’m at least in the top ten, yeah?” Silence. “Guys? Top fifteen?” Nothing. “Top twenty?”
“Eehh,” Chloe offered as she flipped her hand side to side rapidly.
           Nino grinned, “I’ll take it!”
           It all came to a head during the Dupain-Cheng family game. Marinette invited Chloe, Nino, and Adrien, who had become Tom and Sabine’s additional adopted children, when Tom walked in, with Nico trailing behind him. “Family game night to the max!” Tom cheered.
           Nico chuckled and gave everyone their hellos.
           Marinette holding a hat on her lap, “Time to pick the games tonight: Mom, Chloe, and Nico’s turn to draw from the hat.
           Sabine drew Uno.
           Chloe drew Pictionary.
           Nico drew dungeons and dragons which caused everyone in the room to groaned, “What?”
“That game always takes forever,” Nino whined.
           Marinette flopped on the couch dramatically, “Mom’s always the dungeon master and she never lets us win. Dad always dies before anything good starts.”
“We always get frustrated,” Chloe added with an eye-roll. “And snap and try to kill each other!”
“In the game?” Nico asked.
           Nino glared at his friends, “Not. Always. Marinette!” He called her out, and she had the decency to blush. “Some people walk with scars.”
“Mental and emotional ones,” Adrien winced. “Marinette.”
           Chloe caught Nico’s confused look, and explained, “Marinette’s a bit competitive.”
“A bit!” Everyone else in the room said.
“Let’s just play!” Marinette gave them a playful glare.
           Uno was fast. Marinette won, of course.
           Pictionary resulted in tears. (Sabine was just as competitive as her daughter, and Tom was a bit sensitive.)
           The Dungeons and Dragons came took hours. Tom died right away and was content to watch the show. The kids turned on each other by the second hour, and it took Nico’s taking leadership and forcing them all to work together to achieve victory, for the suffering to stop.
           By the end, nearly everyone in the room was dead asleep, their characters long since dead, apart from Marinette, Sabine, Adrien, and Nico. Until the die was rolled for the final time and Marinette raised her tired arms in victory, “Finally. Six hours, friends came together on a harrowing quest; the longest game of my life. And we finally, finally won!”
Seconds after she was cuddled against her mother, both having fallen asleep.
           Adrien gave them a sleepy smile from where he sat on the floor before every cell in his body suddenly felt like it was hit by lightning when he caught Nico’s dark eyes staring at him. It was then that Adrien realized that, with the others all asleep, this was the first time Nico and he were ever technically alone together.
Be cool, he thought. Just be cool, damn you.
           It was all for naught as Nico got up off the couch and went to sit next to Adrien, who let out a small happy squeak.
“Let’s talk,” Nico told Adrien, who fought to stop his entire body from shaking. “We’re sort of friends, right?”
           Adrien winced a little but nodded eagerly, “Yep, friends, totally. I’m happy being friends. Yeah, friendship!” He waved his fist around in a small cheer and died a little inside as soon as he did it.
Why am I such a loser, he asked himself.
“Can I tell you something?”
“Yes, sure,” Adrien said. “Anything. Whatever you want. You can ask me anything too. I’ll probably say yes. I’ll defiantly say yes. Yes!”
           Nico just gave him a small smile, “When I was just about your age, maybe a bit younger, I had a crush on this older guy Percy. I was ten when I met him. He was fourteen, almost fifteen. In my eyes, he was all my dreams come to life; a real-life Greek demi-god hero. He fought monsters, saved lives. I had the biggest crush on him instantly,” He told Adrien. “Not that I knew it then. I was too young. I was from a completely different time where things like a man liking a man just were okay, or… Or Legal. I didn’t handle it well. Even worse after my sister died and wrongly placed at least part of the blame of unfairly on him. It took me a long time to realize I never hated him, I hated myself. I only stopped hating myself when I realized and accepted I was gay. And a little bit in love with Percy.”
           Adrien had no idea where this was going but he listened intensely. He always enjoyed listening to Nico whenever he told tales about his life as a demigod.
“Still I ended up doing a lot of stupid things,” Nico said. “Just to get his attention, to help him; to get him to fall for me back. A lot of stupid things.” He chuckled. “When I found out he was Bi, I thought I had a chance. But I didn’t. I never would’ve. Percy just saw me as a brother. I was too young for him. Way too young. There was no way Percy could’ve ever seen me like that. I accepted that. I moved on. I got over him. I even admitted to him about my crush; after telling him that he wasn’t my type. Asshole fell down laughing.”
           Adrien laughed a bit.
“We’re still friends,” Nico added. “Great friends actually. And I’m glad. Do you know why I’m telling you this?”
           The blond frowned and suddenly found the game board very interesting. Because, yes he did know why Nico was telling him this.
“You know I’m too told for you, right?” Nico asked quietly as to not wake up the others.
“Yeah,” Adrien nodded slowly, his throat felt a little dry, and his eyes stung. “I know. I kind of always knew.” He glanced at the Dungeons and Dragons, and a strange sense of hope-filled him. The blond shot the older dark-haired boy a smirk, “But I’m playing the long game.”
           Adrien tried to be hopeful about it. Or least pretend to but…
Chat Galore: I just got my heartbroken.
Iron’s Kid: That Douchebag. I knew that weird death kid was no good!
Chat Galore: He’s not that bad. He said I’m too young for him. I get he’s trying to be a good guy but…
Iron’s Kid: It still hurts.
Chat Galore: Yep
Iron’s Kid: I get that. How about we watch Star Wars and make fun of Kylo Ren, that’ll make you feel better!
Chat Galore: I’ve seen less teen angst in my high school. The dude has problems!
           And that’s what they did. They texted each other while watching Star Wars: The Force Awakens; sending each other stupid memes and jokes. And Adrien felt a lot better by the end it of it.
Chat Galore: Thanks for this btw. I think I really need this.
Iron’s Kid: No Problem
Iron’s Kid: And for what it’s worth, I’d never turn you down.
           Adrien stared at that message for an hour, mentally screaming. Because… What. The. Hell.
Chat Galore: Oh be quiet! Lol
Iron’s Kid: As you wish.
           The next day, Adrien sent Iron’s Kid another request to meet. The answer was a simple: Not Yet. That was Fine. Adrien would wait.`
“You are not playing the long game, Adrien Agreste,” Chloe glared at him. “Do you hear me? I will not take this into my twenties.”
           They had talked Adrien into ditching one of his many lessons and were hanging out downtown. Eating ice cream.
“But!”
“No!”
“I agree with her man,” Nino said, and Adrien gave him big green puppy dog eyes. “You can spend your life swooning over some guy. There’s other fish in the sea.”
“I don’t want fish,” Adrien complained. “I just someone to ride the Ferris Wheel with me!”
“Ferris Wheel?” Nino asked confused.
“Gay culture,” Chloe explained.
           Marinette nodded, “We just mean that… You need to Get some more life skills. Learn how to talk to guys. Get cool!”
“I’m cool!” Adrien defended and was met with multiple snorts. “I am. I got my dad to let me have more freedom. I paint. I went to comic con last year. I ride the metro now. And I can talk guys. I’ve successfully learned how to be cool.”
           Chloe smirked, “Okay, let's see how you react when you see him,” She looked over his shoulder. “Guy’s been checking you out since we got here.”
“I’m cool,” Adrien said as he casually glanced over his shoulder and saw just who was checking him out, he let out a series of nervous chuckles. And couldn’t stop.
           The guy looked about his age, with dark hair and blue eyes, a jawline that was similar to ones Adrien’s had seen on Greek statues; and he had muscles, so many muscles. He sat on a park bench and was writing or sketching in a red notebook.
           Nino shook his head, “Yeah you still need some lessons in cool.”
“Lesson one: go talk to him,” Chloe demanded.
           Adrien’s eyes went wide, and he let out a squeak. “Nope! Can’t do it. Won’t do it!”
           His friends shared a look, and Adrien suddenly fears for his life. He found himself all but pushed/carried over to the guy on the park bench. He struggled a bit. Suddenly when they got close enough, Adrien was pushed (By gleeful and vindictive looking Chloe, his official witch of an ex-best friend), right into park bench guy, who caught him at the last second. And Adrien found himself sitting in the lap of a virtual stranger.
“Hi?” Adrien offered weakly. “Me and my friends were just talking about you.”
           The guy gave him a big smile, “I know,” He said. “I figured. I’m Jon.” He said with a southern American accent. “Jon Kent. And you can talk about me any time you want.”
“Adrien,” The blond laughed.  “Adrien Agreste.”
“I like your laugh, Adrien.”
“I like your smile, Jon.”
           Then Adrien’s phone started ringing. It was Nathalie and Adrien had to rush home. Mourning his chances of ever seeing Jon again. He was probably a tourist who’d be gone the next day, the blond figured.
Chat Galore: I have the worst luck with guys!
Iron’s Kid: I don’t know. I think you have better luck than you think.
Chat Galore: Lol. What’s up with you lately.
Iron’s Kid: Flash finally left me alone. All it took was a school field trip to my job. Suddenly I’m not a liar anymore!
Chat Galore: Oh I would’ve killed to his face, lol.
Iron’s Kid: It was basically the crying emoji.
Iron’s Kid: Oh yeah, I met this guy named Johnny; totally gorgeous, rides a motorcycle, and my dads’ hate him
Chat Galore: Last ones’s the best part, right?
Iron’s Kid: YES!!
           The next morning Adrien and his friends were happily sitting in the back of the class. The other kids in the class ignored them as usual. Even Lila more or less pretended they didn’t exist. (Though she had been reluctant to let Adrien go and had made several attempts to get him under her thumb. Until Adrien got his dad to fire her under threat of dying his hair neon green, and wearing plaid, the one pattern his father hated above all others.)
           They had entered a cold war with her. As long as she stopped trying to make their lives hell, they’d stop exposing trying to expose her.
           Bustier was once again proving she had no control over her classroom as she struggled to teach a simple history lesson about the French Revolution. It didn’t make a lick of sense and Bustier tried way to hard to get the kids to relate on a personal level.
“History shows that bad things happen when you don’t know who you are,” Bustier said just as the classroom door opened and in walked two boys and a girl.
           Adrien’s eyes went wide, and leaned over to Chloe, “Park bench guy!” He whispered.
“Foreign exchange students,” One of the boys said. He had dark hair, green eyes, olive skin, and a thoroughly unimpressed look on his handsome face. He wore a black turtle neck and slacks. “Damian Wayne, Gotham.”
“Lian Nguyen-Harper-Queen,” Said the girl. She had Auburn hair and gray eyes. Lian wore a pink headband, a pink cardigan over a white top and blue shorts.
“Hi I’m Jon Kent,” He said. Jon wore a red plaid shirt over a simple t-shirt and blue jeans. “I split my time between the Farm in Smallville and Metropolis.” He looked at the back of the classroom straight at Adrien. “And I’m happy to be here.”
           Bustier nodded, “Welcome. Always happy to get new students! Let's find you some seats…” She looked around the room.
“OH! Damian can sit with me!” Lila waved her hand. “I’ll be happy to show him around.”
“Declined,” Damian simply said. “We’ll sit in the back.”
           Alya leaned forward, “But Lila’s goes to Gotham and Metropolis all the time!” She said and didn’t notice the way Lila paled. She seemed to have forgotten Damian Wayne was apart of her many, many lies. “Damian, you showed her around last time she was there. You guys became such a good friend. She just wants to return the favor.”
           Damian scoffed, “I’ve never seen this girl before in my life.”
           Marinette smirked at Adrien, “You’re going to need to move. I have a new best friend.”
“Mean,” Adrien said. “But understandable. Still not moving.”
           Jon and Damian sat in empty seats in front of Adrien and Marinette.
           Jon turned around in his seat, “Hi.”
           Adrien smiled shyly, “Hi.”
           Then they just stared at each other.
           Chloe let out a long-suffering sigh, “Oh this gonna be exhausting.”
Iron’s Kid: Best day EVER!!!
Chat Galore: SAME! What happened?
Iron’s Kid: Johnny asked me out!
Chat Galore: AWESOME!!!
Chat Galore: Park Bench Guy is in my class NOW!!!
Iron’s Kid: ‘High Five’ Maybe fate DOESN’T hate us.
Chat Galore: …
Chat Galore: …I swear to the Gods if you jinxed us
           The two guys in class quickly joined the Adrien’s friends’ group. They blended in seamlessly like they were always there as the weeks went on. Before anyone knew it, they were pretty much attached to hips. Even going as far as joining family game night.
           Through them; Damian, Lian, and Jon were able to get all the information they needed to survive Paris. The three had heard whispers of Hawkmoth but had been a little shocked when the Akuma alert went off and everyone had to duck for cover. After the third or fourth time, the new kids got used to it and easily swallowed the excuses Marinette, Adrien, Chloe, and Nino made about having to run off and go home during alerts.
           Around the same time as the fourth akuma of the new semester hit, three new heroes arrived in Paris.
           Well, new wouldn’t necessarily be the right word. They weren’t new heroes, they were just new to Paris.
           Robin, Superboy, and Arrowette. They assisted in fighting back akuma that turned people into candy; a toddler whose mother refused to buy him sweets. Afterward, they explained that they would be in the city for quite some time, and would assist when they are able.
           They didn’t reveal why they were there though. All Robin said was, “Justice League business.” And the Parisian heroes decided to leave it at that after offering to help if needed.
           Paris went nuts over the arrival of the new heroes.
           Alya cried in class when she found out Ladybug gave Aurore the exclusive interview about what was going on. Ladybug also publically endorsed Bugout, Aurore’s website, as the only reliable main source for credible information on the Parisian heroes. She didn’t say a word about Ladyblog, which was pretty much all anyone needed to know what they had already expected.
           Ladybug hadn’t given an exclusive on the Ladybug blog in almost two years but now it was official…
           The Ladyblog was out. Alya was out.
           Time went on. The kids grew closer as friends. Jon and Adrien got closer as… Well, Adrien didn’t know.
           He did know that his dad despised Jon because of time he picked Adrien up wearing a green plaid shirt but Gabriel wouldn’t admit it. Jon was the son of famous reporters Lois Lane and Clark Kent, godson to Lex Luther. And Gabriel Agreste was anything but stupid.
“I miss my family,” Jon told Adrien one day while they were studying in the library. “All the time. But I guess also miss the pets I have.”
“I always wanted a dog,” Adrien said.
“In Smallville, I have twelve chickens,” Jon said. “Three horses, four pigs, two cows, and a dog.”
           The blond nodded, “You win. Tell me about them.”
           And Jon did. He told all about his life in Smallville and metropolis. And Adrien told him what it was like growing up in Paris and being a supermodel.
Adrien grinned, “I want to be a lawyer when I get older,” he told Jon. “I want to fight for people who can’t fight for themselves. Like I read about this law firm called Nelson and Murdock who take all these pro bono cases to help people who usually have no chance of winning against bigger, bad-er, and richer people. It gets really dangerous for them but they just keep helping. Because it’s the right thing to do. I want to do that too!”
“I think when I grow up…” Jon said slowly. “I want to be like my mom. She goes above and beyond to get her story; to find out what’s really going on in the world and reports it honestly. I want to do that too. I want to be an investigative journalist. I want to hunt down the truth. Because people deserve the truth, even if they don’t like it. I know the truth can be scary sometimes, and a bit sad. But They deserve to hear it. But I’ve probably said too much.” He laughed.
“No,” Adrien shook his head, and smiled, “Tell me more.”
Still the more their friendship and bonds of trust grew, the more Lila became frustrated.  As far as she was concerned things just weren’t going her way. First, she lost her future as the world-famous fashion model Lila Rossi/Mrs. Adrien Agreste. Then Damian Waynes comes to town and won’t even look twice at her; too busy trailing after Miss Goody two-shoes. Then she finds out that Jon Kent is the son of Lois Lane and Clark Kent, godson of Lex Luther, only AFTER she privately threatened to make his life hell for siding with Marinette. She didn’t bother to try to get close to Lian Queen, granddaughter of Oliver Queen, the girl had been glaring at her since the second she heard Lila tell her first lie.
So instead of The Italian girl, once again, tried to sow dissension in the class, tried to force Damian to sit next to her; loudly bragged about her trips and famous people she knew to get attention. Damian ignored her. Then she tried making Marinette look bad again; lied about how the bluenette was bullying her. It didn’t work. Damian was quick to point out inconsistencies in her tales.
           That didn’t stop the class from believing them.
“Morons,” Damian called them one day after school.
“They’re not that bad,” Marinette tried.
“They kinda are, dudette,” Nino said. “I really expected Alya to catch on by now. But it’s like she doesn’t want to.”
           Chloe scoffed, “Of course she doesn’t!” The blond sneered. “She betrayed her best friend, ditched her best friend, broke up with her boyfriend, pretty much led the charge in exiling us, spread Lila’s lies on her blog which included Lies about Ladybug. It’s not just admitting she was wrong.”
“It’s having to deal with consequences,” Lian agreed. “That Alya got herself into this mess. If Marinette and all us aren’t the bad guys in this, that means she is. That’s a hard pill to swallow.”
           Jon shook his head, “I don’t understand why Lila lies so much,” he said. “Dad’s always told me honesty is the best policy.”
“You’re a long way from the farm, boy scout,” Damian tsk’d.
“Damian,” Marinette sighed and grabbed the boy’s hand and pulled him away.
           Adrien snickered, “Those two are so into each other, it’s not even funny!”
“I know,” Jon laughed in agreement. “I’ve never seen Damian be so nice to anyone before. I’ve known him since we were in the sandbox, and he just stopped calling me Kent last year.”
“Yeah…” Chloe drawled. “Watching two people dance around each other for months, neither making a move. It’s the worst.”
“Waiting for one of them to finally make a move,” Nino said, “Literally. Kill. You. Inside.”
           Lian nodded, “They like each other. Everyone knows they like each other. And Yet nothing. And we'll have no choice but watch and wait for them to pull their heads out of their asses,” She told them. “When all you want to scream is: hey, you two! Just freaking kiss already!”
“Yep the absolute worst,” Nino repeated.
           Then Lian, Chloe, and Nino stared blatantly at Jon and Adrien who merely shrugged.
“Damian will make a move soon,” Jon assured.
“I’ll try to get Marinette to say something,” Adrien promised.
“…I hate you,” Chloe said.
           Adrien gave her another confused look. Because what did he do wrong now?
Chat Galore: Dude!
Iron’s Kid: Dude!
Chat Galore: I need Hufflepuff support now!
Iron’s Kid: …Crap, I never told you Pottermore sorted me into Gryffindor, did i?
Chat Galore: WHAT!
Chat Galore: Traitor. Never talk to me again
Iron’s Kid: As you wish.
“How do I look?” Marinette asked as she twirled around in the living room. She wore a soft pink dress. Her hair was down and slightly curved. She looked like a princess from a fairytale.
“Flawless,” Adrien said, for the tenth time. “Why am I here?”
           Marinette narrowed her eyes at him, “Because!” She said. “You’re my bestie. I have my first real date. Chloe’s shopping with Lian. Nino won’t answer my calls. I need you here!”
“Take a deep breath, Mari!” Adrien told her. “You look absolutely beautiful. Damian’s already head over heels for you, and the way you look is gonna make his purpose.”
           The bluenette blushed a lovely pink, “Shut up!”
           The door opened, and in walked Nico, “Looking lovely, niece,” He said. “Big date tonight, huh?”
“Yes,” Marinette sighed dreamily. “He’ll be here soon.”
           Nico smirked, “Good. Don’t worry, I’ll only threaten him a little.”
“Nico!”
           The dark-haired boy chuckled before flopping down on the couch. “Hey, Adrien.”
           Adrien felt his mind go a little mushy. He never quite got over his crush on the older boy. At least not yet.
           The two still hung out every now and then, still always with Marinette. Nico frequently split his time between New York and Paris. So Adrien didn’t see him that often, though Nico had been around to wish Adrien a happy 16th birthday.
           Adrien tried to play it cool, but ended up sitting in awkwardly in the recliner, “Hey Nico!” His voice squeaked, and once more Adrien wanted to die.
           The doorbell rang.
           Damian brought Marinette a dozen red roses, let himself be mildly threatened by Nico, endured the massive amount of pictures Tom and Sabine took and ignored Adrien’s snickering in the background. Then the two love birds were gone. Sabine and Tom went to go finish closing the bakery for the night. And then it was just Adrien and Nico.
“So,” Nico said as he put his feet on the couch. “What are you doing tonight, Blond Wonder? Any plans?”
           Adrien shook his head, “Not really,” Jon was visiting his parents. Nino was watching his siblings. “I’ll just go home and watch Bleach. Or something.” Stuff his mouth with the hidden box of Oreos he had.
“Why don’t you hang out with me?” Nico offered. “The Maltese Falcon at the old theater on 3rd street. It’s your favorite right?”
           Adrien nodded eagerly, “Me and my Mom used to watch it all the time.”
           The two had a great time at the movie theater and ended up staying to watch another movie. They laughed. They ate lots of overpriced junk food. They talked. And Adrien finally managed to have a non-blushing, stammering, mind mushed, conversation with Nico. It was still just a bit awkward but it was not the cause of something either of them did.
           At the end, Nico walked Adrien to the front door of his house.
“It’s weird,” Nico said, “But I kind of always forget how great it is hanging out with you.”
           Adrien shrugged, “You’re not too bad yourself,” Then he smirked, “Though you’d probably be happier if you add some color to your wardrobe. Do own anything that’s not the color of sadness?”
           Nico barked a laugh, “I am the son of Hades,” He defended himself. “It’s our aesthetic, okay. And we all can’t be made from rainbows and sunshine.”
“Excuses.”
           The dark-haired boy shook his head, and smirked at Adrien, “This was fun. We should do it again sometime.” He said as he backed away.
“Yeah,” Adrien smiled. “Go to the beach, see what happens when you go out in the daylight. Even money, you burst into flames.
Nico chuckled as he turned around, “Goodnight, Sunshine.”
“Night, Twilight!”
“You’re dead to me!” Nico called back.
Ladybug and Chat Noir and the other Parisian heroes got used to the Three Justice League sidekicks appearing out of nowhere and assisting in battle. It had been strange at first; a little tense. Mostly due to Robin interrogating them every chance he got. Arrowette glaring menacingly at them. Even Superboy was a bit intimidating. Still, they never revealed why there in Paris.
           During this time, Adrien and Jon became much better friends. And the blond started to suspect that Jon would prefer to just stay friends with him.
Iron’s Kid: Johnny and Me are over.
Chat Galore: Ouch. What happened?
Iron’s Kid: ‘Dramatic Sigh’ we’re just too different, you know?
Chat Galore:  Different is not always bad. You really liked him, right?
Chat Galore: And did you actually type ‘Dramatic Sigh’, you dramatic bitch?
Iron’s Kid: I like that he was different at first. But we barely had anything in common. We were fire in and ice. Sure it is steamy at first but when the steam is gone…
Iron’s Kid: And yes I did
Chat Galore: You okay?
Iron’s Kid: I’m fine. I just realized I want someone I can talk to about everything and nothing.
Chat Galore: Someone to geek out over Star Trek with, and go to when you need a shoulder to lean on.
Iron’s Kid: Someone who’d stay up all night talking just because he wants to be there for me.
Chat Galore: Dating shouldn’t be this hard
Iron’s Kid: It’ll only get harder.
Chat Galore: Shut. Up.
Iron’s Kid: As you wish.
For Marinette’s sixteenth birthday, she had a party. It was much bigger than she wanted, but not smaller than her friends tried to make it. The bluenette was always there for them, and they wanted to remind her how special was.
           However, for the first time, Adrien was pleased to say, he was not the one trying to overdue everything to the extreme. Chloe was pleased that she wasn’t the one making the party planner cry whenever she called them. Nino was pleased that he wasn’t the one to be overly critical of the musical entertainment for being just a bit subpar.
           No! That was Damian Wayne.
           And unlike Marinette’s best friends, Marinette’s boyfriend’s craziness could not be contained.
           The party was huge. There were hundreds of balloons. Everyone was wearing fanciest party clothes. There were hundreds of balloons. Gourmet food. All of Marinette’s friends, close acquaintances, and anyone who loved and or adored her had shown up. Jagged had come. Cara Nightingale did a surprise performance.
           Adrien had a blast. His friends found out that while the blond boy had lessons in practically everything, dance wasn’t one of them. He was a terrible dancer. Laughably bad. Still, everyone had fun. Nino danced in a giant glow in the dark dinosaur costume.
           Then Marinette, Adrien, Nino, Chloe got on stage and sang Born to Brave from High School Musical: The Series. Damian, Jon, and Lian joined them. The crowd sang with. Bubbles filled the air. It was exhilarating.
           So much so that Adrien stepped out to take a small break. He sat on a white wood bench outside, looking up at the stars, and let the cool brisk night air relax him. Even from where he sat, he could still hear music playing from the party.
“Needed a breather,” Jon asked as he sat down next to Adrien.
“Parties,” Adrien shrugged. “They can be a bit much.”        
           Jon shifted in his seat, “Yeah. Yeah, I guess.”
           Then Blue eyes met green…
           And then everything suddenly felt really the world was holdings breath. Adrien had no idea where the tension came from but it was there. And it was like he was waiting for some imaginary bubble to burst. And Adrien just…  Ugh!
           He glanced down at his hands, suddenly not knowing what to do with them. He was also intensely aware of every millimeter Jon so much as moved. In fact, Adrien was aware of everything, including how many times he was blinking.
“This kind of reminds me of how we met,” Adrien finally blurted.
           Jon cast him a curious look but nodded, “Yeah, the park bench, right?”
“Mmhmm.”
           There it went quiet.
“Why are parties a bit much?” Jon asked.
“Not all parties,” Adrien said. “Just the ones my dad usually drags me to. Everyone is always overly polite while giving backhanded compliments; they pretend to be nice but they don’t mean it. No one’s straight forward.  I don’t know why it is so hard.”
“It’s not!” Jon turned to him. “Let’s try it now. Hi, I’m Jon and…” He took two plugs out of his ears, “…I wear earplugs because I can’t handle loud noises sometimes.”
           Adrien chuckled, “Hi. I’m Adrien. And apparently, I’m a terrible dancer.”
“God Awful!”
“Hey!”
           Jon laughed, “My little Pony is one my favorite shows.
“I once had an imaginary friend named Phineas!”
“I like fried broccoli!”
“I like fried Oreos.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“Oh because fried broccoli so much better.”
“Hey, being straight forward here!” Jon defended. “I like raining days over sunny.”
           Adrien smiled, “I like you,” he took a deep breath. “Like really like you.” He glanced down and then back up at Jon and tried to be brave. “Like I the way I thought you might’ve used to like me but don’t anymore.”
“Really?” Jon asked looking just a bit stunned. “How very straight forward of you.”
           Adrien stood up quickly, slightly panicked, “That’s it. That’s all I wanted to say. If you don’t like me anymore, I get it.” He said. “I… I just really wanted you to tell you. Even if you change your mind.”
“Adrien,” Jon said, standing up too, facing the blond. “I’ve never changed my mind.” Then he leaned forward and kissed Adrien. “I really like you too.”
           Adrien and Jon held hands as they walked back into the party.
           Later, after the party ended, Adrien would tell Marinette, Chloe, and Nino about his first kiss, and go partially death from Marinette and Chloe’s screams.
Chat Galore: You know what I like?
Chat Galore: Life!
Iron’s Kid: Things going good then?
Chat Galore: Jon kissed me. My grades are perfect. My dad’s letting me cut back on modeling.
Iron’s Kid: Awesome! You’ve need a break.
Chat Galore: We need a happy song!
Iron’s Kid: We. Do. Not.
Chat Galore: We need a happy song so when we can sing the happy song when we’re happy.
Iron’s Kid: We will never have a happy song.
Iron’s Kid: That’s more of a Hufflepuff thing
Chat Galore: I’d be offended if it wasn’t true!
           Adrien’s life really was going great. He became good friends with Nico. Lila’s lies in the class were starting to unravel, and she was quickly losing her supporters. Jon and him were sort of, kind of, officially dating. The sun was shining. Rainbows were everywhere.
           …He should’ve known it wouldn’t last forever.
           Adrien got a 911 group text from Chloe; with like a dozen exclamation points and several frowny faces so he knew it was serious.
           When he got to Chloe’s place, he found Marinette and Nino already waiting on the couch, while Chloe paced the floor. Adrien joined on the couch.
“Okay,” Marinette said. “We’re all here. What’s up? What’s the emergency?”
“They’re spies,” Chloe hissed, rage clear on her face. “Lian, Jon, Damian; they’ve been spying on us all this time.”
“What? Dude, no way!” Nino shook his head. “They’re our friends. Lian hates traitors!”
“Damian would never!” Marinette denied. “He loves me. I love him.”
           Adrien agreed, “They’d never do that us. Jon couldn’t. He’s like the most honest kid ever.”
           Chloe picked up a nearby face and smashed against the wall, “They’re two-faced lying little creeps.” She yelled. Though it was clear she was angry, they could also see the hurt clear in the blonde’s eyes.
“Chloe…” Marinette started slowly but was cut off.”
“Lian is Arrowette!” Chloe growled. “Jon’s Superboy. And I’ll give you one big fat guess who Damian is. And for the record he is not as wonderful as his nickname implies.”
           Pollen flew out from wherever she was hiding, “It’s true!” She said. “I saw them myself. They are the American heroes.”
“Pollen followed them,” Chloe explained. “She saw everything. They’ve been following us. Reporting intel to the Justice League all about us. That’s why they’re here. That’s why they got close to us. They know we’re heroes!”
           Horror and understandingly slowly crept over Nino, Marinette, and Adrien’s faces.
Pollen nodded eagerly, “They have reports all about your lives in and out of the mask. It's very detailed.”
           Adrien was glad he was sitting down because he felt like the floor has disappeared under his feet. Shakily, he stood up, “I need too…” He shook his head. “I have too…” He couldn’t finish his sentence instead he just ran from the room.
           And kept running and running.
           Until he found himself standing in front of the apartment where Jon, Lian, and Damian lived. He stared at the olive green door as if he didn’t recognize it. As if he hadn’t been there, in that same spot, standing in front of that door, a hundred times before.
           He closed his eyes and he knocked.
           Jon opened the door, “Adrien!” He had a large grin on his face that slowly disappeared when he saw the look on the blond boy’s face.
“Can I come in?”
“Sure, yeah!” Jon moved out of the way to let Adrien pass. “Is everything okay?”
           Adrien walked into the living room and saw Damian and Lian sitting on the couch, “Go see Marinette,” He ordered Damian. “If you want any chance of saving your relationship, if you ever really loved her like you said you; you will go see Her. Right. Now.”
           That was all Damian needed to here to fly out of the room.
           Adrien turned to Lian, “I need to speak with Jon alone, please,” He said as politely as possible. “I would suggest going to go speak with Nino and Chloe.”
           Lian frowned but nodded and left the room.
“Adrien, what’s going on?” Jon asked again. “You’re scaring me.”
           Adrien let out a shorter bitter laugh, “I’m going to ask you three questions, and I need to be honest with me, okay? Is your name Jon Kent?
“Yes,” Jon stated firmly. “Jonathan Kent Lane.”
“Are we friends?”
“Of course!”
           Adrien nodded and swallowed the lump that was building in his throat, “Why did you really come to Paris?”
           Jon frowned, “I’m here on a foreign exchange-” Adrien cut him off.
“Don’t lie to me, Superboy!”
           The boy of Steel flinched back.
“Tell me it isn’t true!” Adrien all but begged. “Tell me you didn’t come here to spy on Chat Noir and Ladybug and everyone else. Tell me this wasn’t all a big lie. Tell me you weren’t using me for information. Tell me! Tell me wrong I’m, please.”
“Adrien…” Jon whispered, pain on his face. “I’m sorry.”
           That was Adrien needed to here. “All this time. You… I thought… Was any of it real? Was anything you ever told me real? Do I even know you?” He asked. “
“The Justice League was concerned about Hawkmoth,” Jon tried to explain. “They received intelligence that Ladybug and Chat Noir were teenagers, and wanted to know more. They sent us.”
           Adrien just stared at him, “I like you,” He said. “I really liked you. You were my friend, Did you do all just because you were ordered to?”
“No!” Jon nodded, “I swear. I’d never do that to you, to anyone.”
“But you thought it was okay to kiss me,” Adrien said “To date me! When I had no idea who you are really?”
           Jon tossed his hands in the air, “You know who I am. Nothing’s changed. I’m still the same guy. I’m still me!”
“Everything’s changed!” Adrien yelled. “I’m questioning everything. Everything I’ve ever said to you, everything we ever did together!” His entire body shook. “You were sent to get close to us. You were sent to get close to me. To. Get. Information.”
           It went quiet. Neither knowing what to say.
“…That day in the park,” Adrien whispered. “You were on the bench and Chloe thought you were checking me out. You weren’t, were you? You were watching me, us. Gathering intel. Weren’t you?”
           Jon looked away, “…Yeah, I was.”
You knew I was Chat Noir even then?”
“I did.”
Adrien nodded, “It’s been a lie since the beginning,” He clenched his fists. “In the library, you told me that people deserve the truth. I believed in you. I trusted you. I told you things I’ve haven’t even told people who’ve known my entire life. Because I trusted you. I trusted you were honest and good and you would tell me the truth. Why didn’t I deserve the truth?”
He looked up at the mantle that was covered in pictures of people that Adrien knew as friends and family of Jon, Damian, and Lian, and at all of the pictures of Chloe, Nino, Adrien, and Marinette together with the three; laughing and smiling. And it hurt to look at it. “You’ve been here for almost a year. You three pretended to be our friends, to care, for almost a year.”
“It wasn’t pretend. Or a lie,” Jon looked ready to cry. “You are our friends!”
           Adrien ran a hand through his hair, “Then Why? If we were your friends, why?”
Jon shrugged, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. Everything was so complicated. We were never supposed to be here this long. It was our first big mission. The first mission JL trusted us to handle alone. I could give you a thousand excuses but I know they wouldn’t be good enough.”
“They wouldn’t be,” Adrien agreed. “They aren’t. They never will be.”
           It went silent again. Jon and Adrien just stared at each other.
“You weren’t sent to get close us,” Adrien repeated. “Not just learn about Hawkmoth. But you were specifically sent to get close us; learn who we are as heroes and as civilians. Hawkmoth was a bonus. But you were sent for Ladybug and Chat Noir and Queen Bee and Carapace. Right?”
Jon looked down, away from Adrien’s soul-piercing gaze, and admitted, “You were the mission.”
Adrien closed his eyes, stood up straight, and with every ounce of control he could muster, he calmly said, “Goodbye, Jon.”
“I never meant to hurt you,” Jon said.
“That doesn’t really matter, because, in the end, it all hurts the same,” Adrien replied and left.
For the next few hours, Jon saying, “You were the mission,” Kept echoing in Adrien’s head on a loop.
Not long after leaving Jon’s place, Adrien would find himself in Marinette’s room, letting the bluenette cry her eyes out into his shoulder, shedding his own tears too. Chloe would arrive next with bloodshot eyes, and cuddle next to them. Nino, just after her, looking like a wreck and would take the spot next to Adrien.
It would be hours before they’d calm themselves down. But it wouldn’t be until the next day that any of them managed to ask what they should next.
Chloe spitefully suggested kicking them out of Paris.
Nino agreed halfheartedly.
Adrien was fine with just ignoring them. At least he hoped that he could. He would try really, really hard to.
Marinette didn’t say a word. Instead, she just let them talk with a faraway look on her face.
In the end, it wouldn’t matter.
By Monday, Jon, Damian, and Lian would be gone. Bustier would announce that the exchange program ended.
And Adrien would find himself frequently staring at Jon’s empty seat.
Chat Galore: So it turns out… Jon’s a big jerk
Chat Galore: He wasn’t who I thought he was.
Chat Galore: It’s complicated but to summarize he’s a jerk.
Iron’s Kid: Screw Prince Charming if he turned out to be a warty, jerky frog.
Iron’s Kid: You deserve better.
Chat Galore: To quote Gabriella Montez: Now I know you're not a fairy tale And dreams were meant for sleeping And wishes on a star Just don't come true
Iron’s Kid: Crap, you're quoting high school musical. You're really hurting, aren’t you.
Iron’s Kids: Want to watch shitty Disney Channel movies and talk?
Chat Galore: …Yes.
            Three months, two weeks, six days, nine hours, and twelve minutes. That was how long it took for Adrien to move on. For all of them to move on from the sense of betrayal.
Iron’s Kid: YOU STILL HAVEN’T WATCHED PRINCESS BRIDE
Chat Galore: It doesn’t seem like that good of a movie
Iron’s Kid: ‘Insulted Gasp’ How. Dare. YOU!
Chat Galore: You still have watched Vampire Diaries!
Iron’s Kid: I have taste!
           It took almost three weeks for Chloe to stop growling whenever someone mentioned Damian, Jon, or Lian’s name.
Iron’s Kid: I might need to hide out in Paris for a while
Chat Galore: Did you blow up your dad’s lab again?
Iron’s Kid: Worse!
Chat Galore: You superglue legos to your Pop’s shield again.
Iron’s Kid: That was an accident. They were supposed to come right off. And it's worse.
Chat Galore: Melt another hole in your living room floor?
Iron’s Kid: So. SO much worse.
Chat Galore: You didn’t call Natasha fat did you?
Iron’s Kid: Never that bad
Iron’s Kid: I may or may not have caused MJ’s laptop to crash
Chat Galore: … Shit
Chat Galore: Not even the gods could save you.
           A month for Marinette to not look like she wanted to cry when she thought about Damian.
Chat Galore: I’ve decided to learn to cook
Iron’s Kid: Sweet
Chat Galore:  Just think One day you will try my cooking.
Iron’s Kid: Sorry, Can’t I’m on a new diet.
Chat Galore: WHAT DIET?
Iron’s Kid: Photosynthesis
           Two months for Nino to redownload all the songs he deleted because Lian recommended them.
Iron’s Kid: Archie is one of my best friends
Chat Galore: *doing the Fortnite dance*
Iron’s Kid: I lied I don’t know you
           Three months for Adrien to be able to sit in the park and not think about Jon.
Iron’s Kid: I think are MJ and Shure are laughing at me
Chat Galore: Don't be so paranoid
Iron’s Kid: They're pointing at me and laughing.
           In the fourth month, things are pretty much the same as they ever were. Though everyone picked up the habit of pretending they didn’t know Marinette started texting Damian again. Eventually, the gang was okay when Marinette announced she was seeing Damian again; even if they, themselves, decided not to deal with the American heroes.
Chat Galore: I really thought 2020 would be a great year!!!
Iron’s Kid: …WWIII was trending in the first week of January.
           Time went on. Adrien went on dates, had fun, had a boyfriend or two. He grew up a bit, and kind of understood the position Jon had been in better. And then he wasn’t so angry. Still, a bit hurt though.
Iron’s Kid: I’m sending good vibes your way, they’re coming and there is nothing you can do to stop the
Chat Galore: that is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.
           By the time summer hit, Adrien decided to take a step back from love and romance and just focus on himself. He finally told his dad his wanted to be a Lawyer, and to his surprise, his dad helped him get a summer internship at a prestigious law firm.
Chat Galore: I’ve decided if I kill Lila, I’ll make it look like an accident.
Chat Galore: Unlike Chloe who has plans to mount her head on the balcony like a warning to the next that may come
Iron’s Kid: How will you make it look like an accident?
Chat Galore: I have a crowbar and a banana.
Iron’s Kid: Quick request: Go look up accident in the dictionary.
He quit modeling because he never really liked it. He found out he liked to paint and was pretty good at it. He tried and failed to learn how to dance.
           He did learn to surf.
           Adrien hung out a lot with Nico, who had become a good friend.
           By the time summer ended, the gang was back on speaking terms with Damian, Lian, and Job. Mostly at Marinette’s behest. She and Damian were going strong. And she really wanted everyone to forgive and forget and be friends.
           Chloe just agreed to be civil.
           Nino agreed to try being friends again after the three apologized.
           Adrien, mostly out of love for his all but sister Marnette, put his best foot forward and start over with them – even Jon. They agreed to be friends. Just friends.
Iron’s Kid: I don’t have a nervous system.
Iron’s Kid: I am a nervous system.
Chat Galore: I’m a Scorpio!
Their final year of school started with a bang. Next year they would all be off at University. And by Bang, Adrien meant Alya knocking Lila the fuck out during the first week.
           Lila had told the one lie Alya couldn’t just live in denial with.
“I told Ladybug, I just couldn’t do it anymore,” Lila sighed, “I already have so many medical issues. I couldn’t be Rene Rouge anymore. Ladybug was devasted.”
           Then the entire class heard Lila scream, and the thing they knew Alya was on top of Lila beating the hell out of her, screaming, “You lying little WITCH!!”
Chat Galore: ‘Video Sent’
Iron’s Kid: Lila’s the girl on the floor right?
Chat Galore: Alya SNAPPED
           Lila transferred out of the school Alya transferred out of class. No one got an apology. Adrien didn’t know why he was still a little surprised.
           Outside of school, Adrien was pleased to say the gang’s friendship with Jon, Lian, and Damian was back to full force. Even Chloe greeted the three warmly.
           Once Adrien decided to move passed any lingering romantic feelings for Jon, they managed to have a pretty good friendship. Even the Superboy and Chat Noir team-ups were going well.
Chat Galore: what should I be for Halloween this year?
Iron’s Kid:  a vampire, Batman, my boyfriend, Superman
           Adrien laughs until everything processed in his mind.
Chat Galore: What?
           He didn’t get a reply. And Adrien figured it was just autocorrected. But still… his mind couldn’t help but wonder. Just a bit… What if?
           A while ago, he had vaguely considered that maybe him and Iron’s Kid had something, could possibly be…
In the middle of Winter break, Adrien got the best gift he could’ve ever asked for.
Iron’s Kid: I’ve been thinking
Chat Galore: Well that can’t end well
Iron’s Kid: Have you and MJ been talking behind my back
Iron’s Kid: Wait don’t answer that. I’m afraid to know
Iron’s Kid: Ned made a point the today
           Adrien waited for Iron’s Kid to elaborate more, because what?
Iron’s Kid: I’ve been stupid.
Chat Galore: Ned makes a good point, lol
Iron’s Kid: WHAT I’m TRYING TO say is; I trust you
           Adrien smiled as his phone.
Iron’s Kid: We’ve been friends since we were like 11
Iron’s Kid: I want to meet
Iron’s Kid: I want to know what you look like.
           Adrien agreed instantly. Because he’s been waiting for like six years. They agreed to meet up that spring. Iron’s Kid’s was going on a trip to Europe for his spring break. It was just going to be him and a few classmates who were in the same club as him. Iron’s Kid said everyone else in their grade was looking forward to the Big Senior Ski Trip at the Brown Bear Ski Lodge that happened every year.
Adrien had family in England. They would meet at six pm at the London’s Eye.
Chat Galore: I always figured you were secretly a werewolf and knew we’d automatically be enemies.
Iron’s Kid: Wait, why would we be enemies?
Iron’s Kid: Oh You’re a Cat!
Chat Galore: And You’re supposed to be a genius.
Iron’s Kid: Meow!
           Adrien’s seventeenth birthday came and went without any fireworks; metaphorical ones anyway. His party was huge.
           He also met the Justice League and got to watch Chloe cuss out the greatest heroes in the world for the invasion of privacy. Marinette, Adrien, and Nino just watched with smiles on their faces.
           He was counting down the days. Until he and Iron’s Kid finally met. It was strange to think it was really going to happen.
Chat Galore: Would you say you’re an independent person?
Iron’s Kid: MJ told me to say to yes.
Chat Galore: Stop being weird.
Iron’s Kid: As you wish.
           Adrien chuckled.
“What?” Marinette asked. He showed her the text. “It kind of funny.
“Not the Mj thing,” Adrien shook his head. “Iron’s Kid always says ‘As You wish’ whenever I tell him to do something. It’s weird.”
“…Like in Princess Bride,” Marinette asked.
           Adrien shrugged, “Never seen it. It’s one of Iron’s favorite though. Irritates him that I refuse to watch it. But I won’t until he watches the Vampire Diaries.”
           Marinette stared at him, “And Iron’s Kid says ‘As you Wish’ every time.”
“Yep.”
“Adrien, WATCH. THAT. MOVIE,” Marinette ordered a firm look on her face.
           Adrien pointed at her, “No!” He said firmly. “It goes against my principles.” She shot him a curious look. “I have a duty to annoying Iron’s Kid in any way I can.”
           The bluenette nodded understandingly, a small smile on her face, “Makes sense,” She said. “I totally accept your reasoning.”
           Adrien smiled happily… Like a fool.
           In retrospect, he should’ve known Marinette would never back down that easily.
           And that was how he ended up literally hogtied on the couch, the Princess Bride playing on the TV, with a smug Chloe and a gleeful Marinette next to him. Nino watched from the recliner with an easy grin on his face.
“You’ve could’ve helped!” Adrien complained to his friend.
           Nino shrugged, “I did help!” He defended. “…Them.”
           Adrien sighed and allowed himself to watch the movie; he fully knows two things.
One; there was no way he was getting out of this
Two; Iron’s Kid was never going to let him live this down.
           The movie was actually pretty good. But then…
           The scene played…
Grandpa: Nothing gave Buttercup as much pleasure as ordering Westley around.
Buttercup: Farm boy, polish my horse's saddle. I want to see my face shining in it by morning.
Westley: As you wish.
Grandpa: "As you wish" was all he ever said to her.
Buttercup: Farm boy, fill these with water - please.
Westley: As you wish.
Grandpa: That day, she was amazed to discover that when he was saying "As you wish," what he meant was, "I love you." And even more amazing was the day she realized she truly loved him back.
Buttercup: Farm boy ... fetch me that pitcher.
Westley: As you wish.
           Adrien’s mind went blank. His heart started beating faster than it ever had before. It couldn’t mean…
           Iron’s kid didn’t mean…
           Right?
           But what if he did.
           Adrien always sort of held a small torch for his penpal. And he never had any concrete evidence that said he felt the same. And he was waiting until he did.
           But what if Iron’s Kid was waiting too. What if he was waiting for Adrien to finally say something; to finally get his message.
Chat Galore: So…
Iron’s Kid: So… Did we agree to stop sending cryptic messages
Chat Galore: We did not
Chat Galore: So I finally watched Princess Bride
Iron’s Kid: YES!!!!!!!!! Finally!!! Fuck yeah! Tell you me loved it.
Chat Galore: It was good, you freaking loser
Iron’s Kid: It’s amazing. It’s a classic you asshat
Chat Galore: Learned something interesting though
Chat Galore: ‘As you wish’, huh? You say a lot
Chat Galore: To me.
           Adrien stared as his phone waiting for a reply. It came after ten minutes.
Iron’s Kid: I do.
Chat Galore: Does it mean what it's supposed to.
           Another five minutes, and it felt agony.
Iron’s Kid: It does
           Adrien screamed a little
Chat Galore: Are you seriously just going to give me two-word answers? Why didn’t just you tell me
Iron’s Kid: In a way I sort of did
           Adrien glared at the phone.
Chat Galore: You are the most frustrating person to ever exist!!!!!!
Iron’s Kid: Thank you
           Adrien took a deep breath before dialing, “You suck!” He said as soon as it answered.
“I told you to watch the movie,” Iron’s kid defended.
           Adrien gripped his hair, “You don’t tell someone you love them by using some obscure 80s movie reference!” He snapped. “How hard would it be to say: Iron’s Kid, I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you since we were twelve-years-old.”
           It went quiet as both processed what Adrien just said.
“…That’s oddly specific,” Iron’s kid whispered.
           Adrien took a deep breath, “Yeah it is.” He said. He was forcing himself to be brave, braver than he ever had before. “But its how I feel. And I can’t help that.”
“I love you too,” Iron’s kid said. “And I’ve loved you since the first time stayed up talking while Binge-watching Harry Potter. It was the first time I realized you know me best in the entire world, and you don’t even know my real name. I could be honest with you in a way I can’t be with anyone. If I could dream up the perfect guy, he wouldn’t even come close to you.”
“Boys meets world,” Adrien let out a small laugh, that sounded a bit more like a sob. “Most of my life I felt alone, even when I was with people. That was until I met you.”
“Pretty little liars,” Iron’s Kid stated.
“In a few weeks, we’re finally gonna meet.”
“I’ll be there,” Iron’s kid said. “I swear.”
           Adrien smiled, “Good because I’ve been waiting for six years. And I know this is scary, but I will be there. Don’t let me down.”
“I won’t,” He promised.
           Valentine’s day came and went.
           Adrien was literally marking off the days on the calendar.  The trip was all planned already; Nino, Chloe, and Marinette were tagging along.
           Iron’s Kid and Adrien talked every day.        
“Okay if you sigh dreamily one more...” Nico teased.
           Adrien flushed a bright pink, “I’m finally gonna meet Iron’s Kid.”
“Ahh,” Nico nodded understandingly. “The mysterious penpal. It’s been what seven years?”\
“Six,” Adrien corrected. “Feels like twice that. We like each other,” He admitted. “Like really, really each other. We told each other a few weeks ago.’
           Nico frowned, “Just before meeting each other. Sounds like a lot of pressure. You ready for that?”
           The blond took a deep breath, “Yeah, I think so. It’s time. It’s going to be perfect. We’re gonna meet at London’s eyes, under the stars; it’ll be like a movie.”
“Your Ferris wheel moment,” Nico concluded. “Marinette told me,” The older boy explained. “Just… be careful okay.”
“I will be.”
           Nico gave him a hard look, “I’m serious. I know you. You’re all in. You always are,” he said. “Just don’t build this some more than you should. Don’t go in thinking it’ll be this picture-perfect movie moment. I don’t want to see you let down.” He told Adrien. “You’re my friend. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
           Adrien gave him a small smile, “I don’t care if the Ferris wheel is broken when I get there. Or its raining cats and dogs. It’ll be perfect.”
“Just be careful,” Nico repeated.
           The big day came. Adrien arrived in England on late Thursday with a stomach full of butterflies. Iron’s Kid had texted that he had been in London with his friends for a few days and that he couldn’t wait to see Adrien.
Iron’s Kid: I have brown hair. I’ll be wearing black slacks, and a rose lapel flower pin.
It wasn’t the first time the blond had been to England; he had more than a few photoshoots there. Yet somehow it all felt different. It all felt new. And it was like he was looking at everything again for the first time.
           He was to meet Iron’s Kid on Saturday at 6 pm. And he could barely contain himself
           He spent most of the Friday touring with his friends. They went to Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, The British Museum; standard tourist spots. And eating really, really British cuisine.
           Adrien woke up bright and early on Saturday and pretty much had a panic attack. It took Nino twenty minutes to calm him down. However, even when he was breathing normally again, Adrien was adamant about running back to Paris. That was when Nino called in Marinette and Chloe as reinforcements.
“If I have to drag to London’s Eye by your tacky boyband haircut,” Chloe growled. “I will.”
           Marinette tried the nice route, “Everything’s going to be fine,” She assured.
Chloe huffed, “I didn’t come all the way to London so you can be a little bitch.”
“You are so hostile,” Nino complained.
“What if this a mistake?” Adrien asked. “What if he’s disappointed? What if he takes one look at me, and is ‘You? I waited six years, and I get you. Waste of time.”
“That won’t happen!” Marinette said. “He’s gonna love you. He already does!”
           Nino nodded, “Yeah. You two are practically soulmates.”
“No!” Chloe held up a finger. “Listen to me clearly, Adrien Agreste; Just because he likes the same nerdy crap you do doesn't mean he's your soul mate. And if it doesn’t work out, not that it won’t, you will be just fine.”
           Marinette sighed, “No matter what happens everything is going to be okay.” She said firmly. “But you should really change that blazer. It’s not doing you any favors. Then we’re going to get breakfast and go to the museum. You have 11 hours until you have to be at the London’s eye. You’re going to relax until.”
“While we stop you from fleeing the country,” Nino yawned tiredly.
           That had to stop Adrien at least three times. One time Ladybug actually had appeared to pick Adrien up when he was halfway to the airport. This was all before one pm.
           The blond boy managed to calm down after that. Then he went back to bursting with excitement.  He was still afraid but he couldn’t let that stop him. Adrien has been waiting six years to meet Iron’s Kid, to meet Iron’s Kid.
           He arrived at the London’s eye, half an hour before six. He wore a silver suit Marinette had designed for him.
           Adrien took calming breaths. Marinette rolled her eyes as she fixed his tie, “See? This isn't so bad. You look amazing.”
“Are you kidding?” He gave her a nervous smile, “He traveled over three thousand miles to me. Any second now he's gonna get here, look at me and go, "Ha. Yeah, right, you're so not worth this.”
           Marinette gave him a hard look, “Yes, you are.” She patted his chest. “Take a lot of pictures. Text if you need anything.”
           And then she was gone.
           Adrien texted Iron’s Kid.
Chat Galore: I’m here. Blond; silver suit.
           The blond looked up at the London’s eyes, the biggest Ferris wheel had ever seen, and knew this was it. This was the moment Adrien had been waiting for. He smiled.
            When six pm came, Adrien was practically bursting at the seams. He was literally shaking in excitement. He watched the people go by and held his breath every time he saw a guy his age with brown hair but would frown when he didn’t see the rose lapel pin.
Chat Galore: You here yet?
           Six turned into seven. The sun had gone down. The stars were shining. Everything looked so perfect. Adrien was sure Iron’s Kid was on his way.
Chat Galore: If your running late it’s cool. I’ll wait.
           Seven turned into eight. Adrien refused to give up hope. He would wait no matter how long it took.
           Iron’s Kid was worth it.
Chat Galore: Still here.
Chat Galore: Did something come up?
           Eight turned into nine. The London’s eye closed. People started leaving. Adrien texted his friends that he was fine.
           He wasn’t feeling as hopeful as he did a few hours ago. But he’d wait.
Chat Galore: Still waiting.
Chat Galore: Well past feeling just a little pathetic.
           Nine turned into ten. Hope kind of then.
Chat Galore: Still here. Still waiting.
Chat Galore: What happened?
Chat Galore: Just say something!
           Ten turned to eleven. Adrien didn’t even know why he was still waiting.
Chat Galore: Anything! Please!
           A quarter to midnight, Adrien finally got an answer.
Iron’s Kid: I’m sorry.
           That was it. That was all he said.
           Adrien got back to his hotel room a little after midnight; feeling numb. His throat burned a little. His eyes were a little red.
           Nino greeted him with a big grin, “Back late, huh? Must’ve had a good time…” He trailed off when he saw the look on Adrien’s face. “Oh god, what happened?”
           Adrien shoved his hands in his pockets, “He, uh, he never showed up,” he said and swallowed the lump that had been building in his throat. “It’s fine. I’m fine. It’s okay.” Adrien nodded. “I need to, I have to, uh. I got to the bathroom.” And then he fled into the bathroom, locking the door behind him; willing the world to just stop existing for just a few moments.
“Dude, it’s okay,” Nino said through the door. “I know this has to be rough. But you’ll get through it. I’m here. I called Chloe and Marinette, they’re on their way.”
           Adrien didn’t say anything. He just wiped the tears off his face, and then gripped the bathroom sink.
“They’ll probably be banging on the door any sec,” Nino added. “Unless, Marinette’s trying to stop Chloe from committing murder,” He joked. “Which would be way rude by the way. I’d have liked an invitation. I thought our friendship was stronger.”
           Adrien heard loud knocking and the sweet voice of Marinette asking where he was, and the furious voice of Chloe already talking about how she knew how t to hide a body.
           The blond boy figured it was only a matter of time before Nino or Marinette convinced him to open up the door. Or Chloe broke it down.
           However, surprisingly after twenty or so minutes of his friends pleading with him to open the door, the door would gently swing open to reveal Marinette kneeling with a lockpick set in her hands.
           That got a smile out of Adrien. After all these years, the bluenette was still full of surprises.
           Adrien spent the rest of the night letting his friends comfort him. They left England the next morning.
           When they got back to Paris, and Adrien was back in the comfort of his room, he finally texted Iron’s Kid back.
Chat Galore: Why didn’t you show?
           He’d wait for a reply all day but wouldn’t get one.
           The next day, Adrien texted again.
Chat Galore: I’m not mad.
Chat Galore: I promise
Chat Galore: just a little hurt.
           Again, he’d wait for a reply all day, but it didn’t come.
           Though his friends tried to get him to talk about it, Adrien wouldn’t budge. He just couldn’t…
           It just stung too much. It burned too much.
Chat Galore: I get it if you were afraid or something
Chat Galore: It’s okay.
           And was the truth; it was fine.
           He would be fine. Everything was good. It was okay.
           Adrien would be fine.
           That was what he told everyone.
Chat Galore: We can pretend this never happened if you want
Chat Galore: Just be friends.
           Adrien still didn’t get a reply. That didn’t stop him from waiting for one. He figured Iron’s Kid was just embarrassed that he didn’t show or something. Everything would go back to normal after a few days.
Chat Galore: I’m going to see Onward. Heard its pretty good.
           But a few days became a week. A week became two. Two weeks a became a month of radio silence. And a seed of worrying starting to grow in Adrien’s stomach. Nevertheless, Adrien wrote Iron’s Kid once a day. He refused to give up hope.
           Adrien kept a smile on his face to stop his friends from being concerned. There was no reason to. He would be fine. It was okay. It wasn’t the first time he got his heart broken; probably would even be his last.
His days were split between studying and fight Hawkmoth. The villain was getting bolder and more desperate. Every Akuma seemed worse and stronger than the last. The kids got used to the feeling of always being dead on their feet.
           Marinette finally decided they needed a break and ordered a family game night. She got the newly permanent heroes Luka, Kagami, and Aurore to cover for them.
           Adrien tried to give all his attention to the monopoly game they played; laughed when he was supposed to. Tried to ignore that in the back of his mind, his attention was still a bit focused on his phone, and that fact that it's been a month since he heard from Iron’s Kid.
           A month since London.
           He barely even blinked twice when Marinette successfully bankrupted him, even though he was the first one out. Instead, as soon as the game got more intense, Adrien stuck away. He found himself on the roof the bakery, staring at the stars, clutching his phone in his hand.
Chat Galore: I’m running out of things to say
Chat Galore: Hard to have a one-sided conversation.
Chat Galore: I’m not even sure you’re reading this.
Chat Galore: Maybe I’ll just you send you movie quotes until you respond
            Adrien looked back up at the stars and wished. He wished never agreed to meet Iron’s Kid. He wished he never told him he loved him. He wished he could take it all back because at least he’d still have his friend.
           He wrapped his arms around himself. Adrien blinked back the tears that were building.
           He heard the door open behind him and figured it was Chloe or Nino coming to check on him; whoever got kicked out of the game firsts. Because Marinette was going to win.
“Beautiful night,” A voice said. “Nothing quite like Paris in the springtime.”
           Adrien cast a quick smile at Nico, “I always preferred it during Winter. A Snowy wonderland.” He went back to looking up at the stars.
“You know someday someone will walk into your life,” Nico said as he walked to stand next to the blond, “And make you realize why he never worked out with anyone else.”
“Go ahead,” Adrien laughed bitterly. “Tell me I told you so.”
           Nico shrugged, ‘Iron’s Kid’s a kid. And an idiot.”
“Yeah,” The blond sobbed. “That doesn’t mean much coming from you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nico crossed his arms.
“Nothing,” Adrien rolled his eyes. “I’m just tired… I'm so tired of falling for guys that don't fall back. It hurts.”
“Adrien, I…”
           Adrien cut him off, “It’s the same thing every time. I’m all in, and they’re not. I’m the one left out in the cold. I’m waiting, looking like a total idiot. Because I was stupid enough to give all my heart when no one else ever does. So you wanna help me, Nico? Tell me what I do wrong.
“Nothing!” Nico gripped Adrien’s shoulders. “There is nothing wrong with you. You’re smart and talented. You’re caring and you’re funny. You look at this world like everything is possible, and you make me believe it too. You’re not the problem.”
“Tell me why I'm so easy to give up then,” The blond asked. “And maybe I can fix it”
“You’re asking the wrong guy, Sunshine,” Nico whispered, his forehead against Adrien’s, their lips inches apart. “There is no time or place or world, where it would ever be easy to give you up.”
Nico moved closer; so did Adrien…
“Hey!!” A voice called from downstairs. “New games starting. It’s Poker! Hurry your butts up!”        
           The two guys snapped back to reality and away from each other.
“You should go,” Nico said dryly, looking away from the other boy. “I’m going to stay here for a bit.”
“Nico…” Adrien said, looking a bit confused.
           The older boy shook his head.
           The blond nodded and started for the door.
“For what it’s worth,” Nico called. “He made the wrong choice.”.
           A small smile spread over Adrien’s face, “I know.”
“I wonder what would’ve happened if we met when we were older,” Nico asked.
           Adrien shrugged, “Someday we will be.”
“Long game?”
“Long game.”
           He went back to the living room where everyone was waiting, with the cards and poker chips already dealt.
           Adrien settled in the seat next to Marinette.
           The bluenette shot him a concerned look, “You okay?”
“I’ll be…” Adrien sighed. “Eventually.”
           The blond boy decided to chalk up whatever happened on the roof with Nico as… Just the two of them being caught in the moment. Emotions were high.
           …That didn’t stop Adrien from smiling every time someone mentioned Nico’s name.
Chat Galore: Everything is possible.
Chat Galore: Even the impossible.
           He still wrote Iron’s Kid once every day. Adrien didn’t say much. He just sent a movie quote he liked, just to let Iron’s Kid know he was still there. He was still waiting… if Iron’s Kid ever changed his mind.
Chat Galore: When you can’t look on the Brightside, I will sit with you in the dark.
           A month became two.
Chat Galore: In the garden of memory, in the palace of Dreams,  that is where you and I shall meet.
           Two became three. They figured out who Hawkmoth was. The battle had been epic. Adrien’s father had hesitated when he realized Adrien was Chat Noir, long enough for Ladybug to make the killing shot.
           Figuratively anyway.
           Ladybug blasted Hawkmoth into a wall. The heroes banded together to remove his miraculous. Then they erased his memory. And then Natalie’s. Of any and all knowledge of magic permanently; defeating Hawkmoth once and for all.
           As far as Gabriel knew he was just a recluse workaholic with what barely passed as a decent relationship with his only child.
           Adrien was devastated to learn who his father really was. Even so when he discovered the reason behind Hawkmoth’s villainous pursuit; his comatose mother and learned from Fu there was no way to save her; not even with a wish.
           The blond boy had long ago mourned his mother and moved on but that it didn’t hurt.
           Emilie Agreste was officially declared dead and buried on a sunny Tuesday afternoon in the middle of Spring.
Chat Galore: Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it
           Three months became four.
           At this point, he knows Iron’s Kid’s never going to write him back. And that was okay. Adrien was okay.
           People move on. And while Adrien would always wonder why Iron’s Kid never showed, he could live without knowing.
           If anyone asked why he was still writing, Adrien would say he didn’t know.
           But that was a lie.
           He did know.
           Iron’s Kid had been a really big part of his life, had been one greatest friend he ever had; had been his first love in a way.
           So yes, Adrien knew exactly why he was still writing.
           He could live without Iron’s Kid in his life but he couldn’t live without one thing.
Chat Galore: Here's looking at you kid
           Adrien officially graduated from school. He was accepted into Columbia. He’d be living in New York. And so, would Chloe, Marinette, and Nino. They decided they wanted to stick together and keep being heroes.
           Chloe would be going to Columbia with him to study business and public relations. Marinette would study business and fashion. Nino decided to dedicate his life to being the next great movie director. Adrien would study Law.
           They decided to get two apartments across from each other like in F.R.I.E.N.D.S. Because that was pretty much all they knew about New York.
           Damian would be attending Columbia; he was gearing up to take over Wayne Industries one day. Him and Marinette were still going strong. Lian would be going to Princeton, as Oliver Queen would be damned if his granddaughter went anywhere else. Jon would take a year off to explore the world before attending Metropolis University; he still wanted to Major in Journalism.
           Damian kept hinting hard that the Titans, not the Teen Titans, were looking for new members. And as he was the current leader of the Titans, it was less of a hint and more like being actively headhunted by the most aggressive Robin to ever walk the earth.
           It was official, they weren’t kids anymore.
Chat Galore: You know that place between sleep and awake where you’re always dreaming? That’s where I’ll always love you. That’s where I’ll be waiting.
           They had a few months before they had to move completely to New York, and decided to do something special. Or rather Tom and Sabine did.
           And mostly because they just wanted to see where their kids would be living from now on.
           Sabine and Tom claimed to find this great deal on a ski resort near New York.  Everyone was invited; Nico, Kagami, Luka, Aurore, Lian, Jon, and Damian.
They did the whole tourist thing, led by Nico who was excited his cousin would be living in the same city as him and explored the great New York City, and Tom and Sabine got to see the penthouses, Gabriel and Audrey had bought each their perspective children and were assured their kids would be living in a safe location.
Chat Galore: So maybe it won’t look like you thought it would in high school, but it’s important to remember that love is possible. Anything is possible. This is New York
           The Brown Bear Ski Lodge was packed, apparently, some class from a school called Midtown had booked a trip at the same time they did. So the entire lodge was filled with graduating seniors, between the ages of seventeen and eighteen years old.
           To say it was wild was an understatement. Sabine vocally wondered why the school though three chaperones to watch over an entire class of students were enough. Tom just comforted Mr. Harrison when he started to cry.
Adrien got to meet loads of kids his age, a few that would even be starting at Columbia the same time as the French kids. It turned out most of the kids from Midtown were insanely smart.
           The blond boy ended up spraining his ankle while skiing and ended up spending most of the time on sitting on the lodge’s bay window watching nature and relaxing. He ended up sitting there long after nearly everyone else had gone off to bed.
“Having fun,” A boy his age asked, one of the few people left in the room. He was handsome with light brown hair and kind brown eyes.
“As close as I can get,” Adrien answered.
The brown-haired boy smiled, “Well if you get bored out of your mind, I got some movies on my tablet if you want to watch. I know some pretty good ones.”
“I’m good,” Adrien said. “You can join me if you want. I wouldn’t say no to company.”
           The boy did, “Name’s Peter.”
“Adrien.”
“By your accent, I’m guessing your not with the Midtown group,” Peter asked. “Also, because I’m from the Midtown group.”
           Adrien snorted, “France. I’ll be living full time in New York come autumn.”
“Is that right?” Peter looked excited by the news. “You’re gonna love it.”
“Yeah, and why’s that?”
           And then Peter went on to tell Adrien all about the places and people he loved in New York. They talked for hours until morning rays hit them through the window.
           Over the next week of the vacation, the two ended up finding themselves repeating that; talking and letting time disappear.
Chat Galore: I wish I knew how to quit you.
           Adrien introduced Peter to Marinette, Chloe, Nino, and the others. Peter introduced him to his friends Michelle, Ned, and Gwen. Like Adrien and his friends, Peter and his friends were pretty much attached at the hip.
“He pissed me off, so I put a porn virus into his computer,” Michelle answered the Marinette’s question as to why a Eugene kept running from her.
           Marinette and Adrien had decided to enjoy a nice cup of hot chocolate by the fire, only to be joined by Peter’s friends: Michelle and Ned. Another would’ve joined them but he scampered away the second he saw the girl.
“He deserved it,” Michelle added.
“He totally did,” The large Asian boy nodded in agreement. “But MJ you might’ve taken it too far when you made it happen during class.”
           Marinette giggled. “Harsh!”
“No mercy, Ned!”
Adrien laughed until his brain processed what was said, “Wait, I thought your name was Michelle?”
Michelle and Ned froze like deer caught in the headlights.
“MJ’s my nickname,” Mj explained cooly. “And we should really be going…”
“Geniuses,” Adrien suddenly recalled; his mind finishing a calculation, he didn’t even realize he was trying to figure out. “Who goes to a school for super-smart kids. MJ, scary queen who could rule the universe,” He pointed at her. “Ned; loveable teddy bear nerd with a fixation on Legos. A bully named Eugene who I’m guessing goes by Flash.” He swallowed hard, and fixed hard green eyes on the two kids in front of him. “Did you take a class trip to Europe in Spring? Keep in mind I would really like you to say no.”
           Ned and MJ paled.
“Ned and MJ,” Adrien repeated. “Iron’s Kid’s best friends…” He whispered. “Peter’s best friends. Peter is Iron’s Kid, isn’t he?”
           MJ narrowed her eyes at him, “Chat Galore: Adrien Agreste.”
           Adrien’s entire body froze. He tried to remain calm, “This can’t be happening.”
           Marinette glared at them, “Your friends with Iron’s Kid!” She growled. “Peter is Iron’s Kid. What was he thinking? How could he just stand Adrien up? I’ll kill him!”
“I never told you my last name!” Adrien realized. “How did you?”
“We hacked into Peter’s phone a few months ago,” MJ shrugged. “And traced your Ip address.”
           Adrien glared, “And Peter knew? When I got here, he knew who I was didn’t?” He accused. “He lied right to my face!”
“It’s complicated!” Ned looked at Adrien with wide eyes. “Yeah, he knew who you were when he saw you. He just wanted a do-over. It’s weird I know. I told him not to do it!”
           MJ looked at Marinette, “You should kill him. It was a bitch move,” She said. “But if it means anything, he regrets not showing up at London’s eye.” This part she told Adrien.
“Like super regrets it!” Ned added. “You can’t beat him up half as much as he does himself.”
“I can try,” Marinette crossed her arms.
“He reads your texts every day,” Mj said.
           Adrien stood up angrily, “Then why doesn’t he text back?” He demanded to know. “Why didn’t he show up at the London’s eye. I waited! I’ve been waiting!”
           MJ shrugged, “I can’t answer that,” She said. “Only he can. I can only tell you he was stupid. And he overreacted. You deserve to hear everything from him.”
           Ned nodded eagerly, “He really likes you. He nearly dropped dead when he saw you were here. Just let him explain!”
“No!” Adrien snapped. “I don’t want to see him. Ever.” He clenched his fists. “I… I just can’t.”
           And he stumped away.
           He went to his room and packed his bags. He was getting out of there. He was leaving he had nothing to say to Iron’s Kid. Or Peter. Or whoever he was.
           There was a knock on his door.
“Go. Away!” Adrien snapped.
“I can’t do that!” It was Jon that surprisingly said that.
“Come in!” The door opened. “What do you want?” Adrien asked. “Sorry, I’m just a bit busy right now.”
           Jon wore a red plaid shirt over a white t-shirt and blue jeans, “Don’t leave,” He told Adrien.
“I have to,” The blond said he snuffed his suitcase.
“You can’t!”
           Adrien all but snarled, “Look you don’t understand. You don’t get it.” He said. “I have to leave.”
“Yeah I do,” Jon said and shut the door behind him. “Super hearing, remember? I know everything that’s going on. You can’t go, not like this.”
“Yes, I-” The blond started but was cut off.
           Jon grabbed his shoulders and sat him on the bed, “You deserve an answer. You’ve been waiting for an answer,” He stated. “You deserve to know why he didn’t show up.”
“And why he decided to mess with me for the last week?!!”
“That I understand!” Jon said. “He wanted to start over. Second chances are hard to come by. And once upon a time, there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t have done for one.”
“And you think he deserves one?”
“Just talk to him,” Superboy said. “Or scream at him. Whatever.”
           Adrien ran a hand through his hair, “I haven’t been waiting for an answer,” He admitted. “I would’ve liked one, but I wasn’t waiting for it.”
“You love him,” Jon said. “You did. Or do. I know. Because I remember how you used to look when he texted you. I know… Because you used to look like that around me.”
“Jon…”
“I saw you two together,” Jon said. “You’re good together. Leaving now would be a big mistake. I’m saying that as your friend. Meet him, talk to him. Even nothing happens. Or everything does.”
           Adrien hid his face in his hands and groaned, “Even if it’s just to reject him?” He crossed his arms. “Wouldn’t it be better to just leave?”
“Not for you,” Jon shook his head. “Look, if you reject him now, he's gonna make it his life's mission to go out there and meet the most perfect, beautiful guy or girl in the world just to try and get over you. And he'll end up marrying this other person and spending the rest of his life with them. And you know, he'll tell himself that they're perfect and... He really must be happy, but they won't be you, you know? And that’s the worst thing that will happen.”
           It went quiet.
“Follow your heart, Adrien,” Jon added. “It’s what you do best. And it’s the best thing about you.”
           Then the boy of steel left.
           And Adrien was alone with his thoughts.
Chat Galore: Relationships are messy and people’s feelings get hurt. Who needs it?
           Adrien left. It wasn’t his finest moment and not his bravest. But he left. Because he wasn’t ready to see Peter. Not yet. He texted his friends and tom and Sabine that he was leaving and that he’d okay… eventually.
           He’d go back to New York City, leave on the next flight out. He’d back to the big Apple two months later, move into his apartment with Nino, Marinette, and Chloe and start his life there.
           Two weeks after that Chloe would get the opportunity of a lifetime, a PR internship for college credit at Stark Industries. The blonde girl invited them all to go on her tour with her; apparently, she was told she could bring friends.
           Adrien would frown when he heard but not say anything. Peter wasn’t the only one with friends that could track an IP address.
           It was time. No more running.
           Stark Tower was everything, the kids all dreamed it would be. A scientist, futuristic wonderland. They oohhh’ed and awed. And Adrien tried to enjoy himself and keep his mouth closed.
           Even when the most advanced elevator in the entire world “mysteriously” malfunctioned and took them to the very top floor; otherwise known as the place the Avengers lived.
“Sorry about that,” Tony Stark, himself, gave them his most charming grin when the doors opened and he was standing right there. “We’ll get that fixed right away.” He promised. “Come on kiddies, let me show you where the big kids play.”
           He led them to the living room where Captain America was watching TV.
“Hey, babe!” Tony grinned. “This is Chloe, Pepper’s newest intern. Marinette, Nino, and… Adrien.”
“Tony…” Steve Roger gave his husband a chastising look.
“Cap…”
           Adrien huffed and glared at the occupants in the room, “Cut the crap,” He ordered them, drawing surprised looks from his friends. “Where’s Peter?” He asked. “Iron’s Kid,” Tony smirked at the name. “Is Peter. Peter Stark-Rogers.”
           His friends turned fierce glares at the Avengers.
“It’s a setup!” Chloe accused.
“Heroes are supposed, to be honest,” Marinette chided.
           Nino crossed his arms, “What a letdown.”
“Where’s Peter?” Adrien asked again.
“He’s coming,” Tony said. “You three and my hotter than the sun husband come with me; I’ll show you the training room that you can use full time If Ladybug, Queen Bee, Carapace, and Chat Noir decides they wanted to ditch the Justice League and hang with the Major Leagues.”
           His friends paled at the fact that Tony Stark and probably all the Avengers knew their superhero identities and followed Iron Man out of the room.  Steve just sighed at his husband’s antics and follow him out.
           Adrien crossed his arms and waited.
           The elevator would ping, and five minutes later Peter would walk into the living room. They just at each other for a few moments.
“I’m sorry,” Peter finally said.
           Adrien shook his head, “I don’t want your apologies. I came here… I waited here… for the same reason I’ve waited the last seven months,” He said. “I only waited to say goodbye.”
“Goodbye?” Peter gave him half a smile. “We’ve only just met.”
           Adrien pointed him, “Don’t!” He said. “Don’t quote movies at me.” He snapped. “Why?” Adrien asked. “Why weren’t you there? How could you not be there?!”
“I was!” Peter said. “I was there. I saw you. I was terrified. And I left.”
“I was afraid too!” Adrien said. “The difference is I still showed up. I waited six years to meet you. And I waited at the London’s eye for almost seven hours, and you just left me. You blew me off.”
“I’m sorry!” Peter yelled. “I’m so sorry. It was the biggest mistake of my life.”
Adrien clenched his fists. “Why didn’t you write me back? Why did you pretend at the lodge?”
“I don’t know,” Peter admitted. “I really don’t. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just saw you and my mind just went blank. I thought it was like fate giving me a second chance. I didn’t do it right. I screw up. Again!”
“A second chance?” Adrien glared at him. “You think that was your second chance? No. Your second chance was I texted asking what happened. You got another chance every time I texted you. I texted you every day for six months. Those were your chances!” He yelled. “If it was over for you, you could have told me. Said something. But you left me in the dark. If you didn’t feel the same about me, you could’ve told me. I just wanted my friend back!”
“Adrien, I…”
“Why didn’t you write me back?” Adrien asked, tears burning in his eyes. “Why? It wasn’t over for me. Six months, that’s one hundred and eighty-two days. I wrote you one hundred and eighty-two times. I waited for you! It’s too late now. It’s over!”
           Peter looked ready to cry, “I wrote you over three hundred emails. I have them saved on my computer I never sent them. I didn’t think they’d be enough. They’re still not enough. It’s wasn’t over for me. It’s still not over.”
“Why?” Adrien asked again. “Why didn’t Iron’s Kid show up? Why was he so afraid?”
           Peter just looked at the blond boy for a moment, before taking a deep breath, “Iron’s Kid thinks about that moment every day. He used to think he didn’t show up because he was afraid of what would happen; that it wouldn’t work out. That he’d lose one his best friends.” He said. “That them being together would ruin everything. Because they were just kids; they were stupid and young. But that was just a lie he told himself because he was afraid. The truth is, He was at the London’s eye that night, he saw Chat Galore: the most perfect person he’d ever seen and got scared for a completely different reason.”
“Why?”
           Peter stepped towards Adrien, “Once he figured that out, and he figured that out really quick but only when it was just too late, Iron’s Kid didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what to say to make it right. So he said nothing. And it killed him every day. Iron’s Kid would give anything to go back to that night at the London’s eye, to back to that moment when they were supposed to meet. Before everything went wrong. Iron’s kid would tell Chat Galore everything he always wanted. But he couldn’t. Because doesn’t work like that. Instead, he was so sorry for what he had done.”
           Adrien just listened.
“Because Iron’s Kid realized,” Peter said, “That he wasn’t afraid that night because he thought it wouldn’t work out; that Chat Galore wasn’t the one. He was absolutely terrified because he knew he was. And if Adrien could just give him one more chance. Just one more chance, he’d spend the rest of his making it up to him.”
“Peter…”
“I love you,” Peter said. “I’m totally and completely in love with you. And I don’t care if you think its too late. I’m telling you anyway. Because if I don’t, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. Because I know in my heart, you’re the one for me.”
           Adrien just sighed and looked away, wondering what he should do.
“I don’t what’s going to happen in the future,” Peter said. “I don’t if in the time I was an idiot if Jon or Nico or Luka,” He chuckled, and so did Adrien. “Won your heart. I just know… I may not be your first love, but I intend to be your last. However long it takes.”
           A smile spread across Adrien’s face, “You watched it,” He said. “You finally watched the Vampire diaries. It only took you, what? Seven years.”
“Six and a half,” Peter corrected. “Sorry I made you wait.”
“I know,” Adrien nodded. “I need some time, okay. I need to get my head on straight. Before I decide anything.”
“I understand,” Peter agreed eagerly. “I get it. I’ll wait.”
           Adrien would take two weeks to decide what he was feeling and what he wanted to do. And when the two weeks were over, he knew exactly what he wanted, and who he wanted. So he made a call.
           And then ended up a Coney island, next to The Wonder Wheel, one of the most famous Ferris wheels in the world. He waited in line and happily got on the ride. The seats next to him were quickly filled by Marinette, Chloe, and Nino.
“Finally getting your Ferris wheel moment?” Nino asked as the ride started.
           Adrien smiled, “Yeah. Except I wanted the people I love the most with me.”
“Awww,” Marinette hugged him. “We love you too.”
“That’s a dollar for the overly sentimental jar,” Chloe glared at him. “And no more rom-com for you.”
           Adrien snorted.
           The kids enjoyed the ride, and when it was over, and they got off, Marinette asked, “So you didn’t choose anyone?”
“Well…” He motioned to the guy waiting at the exit of the ride. “I wouldn’t say that. I’m done. No more waiting, no more long game, no more… anything. Its time I get a little more proactive.”
           Chloe smirked, “About time. Get it, Agreste!”
“Just remember you have a roommate,” Nino smirked.
           The three walked off to enjoy the rest of the amusement park.
           Adrien smiled at them, and then smirked at the guy waiting for him, “Wait long?”
“I’d wait forever.”
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theoreticslut · 4 years ago
Text
The Truth that you Deny // Part 4
pairing: fred weasley x reader x george weasley
part 1 / part 2 / part 3 
word count: 2,394
warnings: none, fluff
A/N: Okay, so this is the second to last part of this story and I’m not sure if I’m ready. I know people are still reading it, but are you all still enjoying it? I know it might seem kinda drawn out, but I couldn’t help myself. I like the way its turned out, but i mean I’m posting it so hopefully others can enjoy it too. It just makes me really nervous. Either way, the next part is the last part that I’ve written. I might potentially be willing to do another bit of a drabble continuing on with it if people are interested, but you have to let me know.Thank you to everyone who has been reading it, liking it, commenting, and even reblogging! It means so much to me!!  Anyways, here is part 4! I hope you like it! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist as well! I’d like to start a general one for any writing I post myself, so let me know if you’d like to be added to that as well. thank you Xx
Taglist: @justmesadgirl @xuckduck @yikesyikesyikes95 @filipi-yes @aestheticwh0r3 @siredkai @matsuno-nadeshiko @msmarklee1213
“Did you still need help, Mrs. Weasley? I got talking to Ginny.” You say when you finally make your way back downstairs.
“No worries, dear. If you don’t mind, I could use the help.” She smiles at you.
“Of course. Where do you want me to begin?”
As she explains what she wants to make and shows you the recipe, you find yourself happy to be back here. As you had told George, this is your favourite place aside from hogwarts.
You were so amazed the first time you were here back in your second year. Even though it was a bit of a smaller house for such a large family, it was extraordinarily comfortable and welcoming. You almost immediately felt at home and cared for, which was quite the contrast from your family.
You were an only child to Wizarding parents that were rarely home, and when they were, they spent their time belittling you. You never seemed to be enough in their eyes even though you had never acted out and were always in the top of your classes.
You never could figure out why they treat you the way they do. That first year at hogwarts, you had nearly cried when you had to go back home because you would be right back to no one caring about you.
When Fred had invited you to Christmas at the burrow in second year, you were nervous, sure, but you were also thrilled to be spending the break with at least two people you knew cared for you. Then when the rest of the weasley’s accepted you...you really did cry because you had never known a family.
“You got it?” Mrs. Weasley asks, having finished explaining the recipe.
“Yeah, thank you.” You smile which she reciprocates.
You both work in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before the twins come down and start talking to you.
“Mmm, what are you guys making? It smells amazing.” George asks as they both lean against the table that your working at.
“Your mum’s working on dinner.”
“Ooh, what’re we having?” Fred asks, going to lean over his mum’s shoulder.
“You’ll see when you sit down to eat, won’t ya?” Mrs. Weasley quips, shooing her son out of her way.
“Fine,” He pouts. “What about you?”
He peers his head over your shoulder, resting his chin as he watches you work.
“I’m trying to make a pie for dessert,” you say trying to look at him while he’s still resting his chin on your shoulder.
“What kind?”
“You’ll find out later. You’re making it awfully hard to work.” You frown, wiggling your shoulder to hopefully get him to move.
“You sound just like mum.” He frowns, walking away and sitting across from you as George had.
“It’s a natural reaction to you two. You find a way to always be in the way.” You chuckle.
“It’s odd to see you in the kitchen. It doesn’t seem like something you’d do.” George says, watching as you mix things together.
“What is something I would do then?” You ask, chuckling at his statement.
“Play quidditch. Study. Work.” Fred points out.
“You two do realize that I had to do this every night before hogwarts? My parents were never home so I had to cook and clean and take care of the house.”
“And you shouldn’t have had to do that. Not that young.” Mrs. Weasley interjects. You smile a bit sadly as she looks over at you, silently affirming that she cares. Out of all the Weasley’s, her and Ginny are really the only ones who know what your life was like before hogwarts, and even then, Ginny doesn’t know nearly as much as her mum does.
“It wasn’t fair to you in the slightest, but I know you’ll make a good wife someday.” She smiles, winking at you and looking over her two sons.
“Oh, uh. I hope.” You chuckle nervously, a blush rising to your cheeks.
“Oh, I know you will. You’re smart, talented, hard-working. You’re gorgeous. You know how to handle yourself and others, not to mention you know how to keep a house running. Whoever ends up marrying you is going to be a lucky man.” Mrs. Weasley states, matter-of-factly.
You’re blushing furiously now, looking down at what you’re working on to try to hide your face. You glance up at the twins only to receive a couple shrugged shoulders.
Neither Fred or George knew what to say because they didn’t really feel like commenting on whether you’d be a good wife with their own mother, but the thought of you as their wife was nice to think about. It’d be absolutely wonderful to wake up next to you, to hold you anytime they want, to help you in the kitchen, to have you to laugh with for the rest of their lives. Even having a family with you. Now, that would be a dream.
“I’m actually surprised none of you have gotten together yet. With how close you all are, I would’ve figured that by now one of you would have asked her out if not both of you.” Their mother continues, furthering your blush but now causing them to as well.
“Mum.” They both groan, looking at you, but looking away soon after in embarrassment.
“What?” She asks, turning to look at the three of you, noticing all of your red cheeks but ignoring it.
“Why don’t you two go and find something to do while y/n and I finish up.”
“Fine.”
“We’ll be upstairs.”
You let out a breath of air and try to rid yourself of your tinted cheeks.
“Boys, they get so embarrassed when their mum talks about a girl with them.” Mrs. Weasley chuckles.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Y/n, dear. You like them, don’t you?”
“Well, yeah. Of course. They’re my best friends and -“
“You know what I mean, y/n.” She tuts, turning to face you.
You sigh, not really wanting to talk about it, but knowing that out of anyone she would understand it the most.
“Yeah. I do. I really like them both.” You smile.
“But?” She asks, setting down the towel she had had over her shoulder to wipe her hands on.
“But I don’t want to ruin anything between us. We’re all each other’s best friends and I don’t want to make anything awkward by admitting that I like them. And that I like them both! I suppose it’s slightly better than liking only one of them if they both like me as well. The last thing I’d want to do is hurt either of them.” You explain to which Molly nods.
“I know that, dear. You care for both of them deeply.”
“I do. I really do, but it’s odd to date two people at the same time, right? I’d hate to have to choose between them, but I’m not fond of the idea of people looking at us funny if I were with both of them.”
“I’m just really confused, Mrs. Weasley. I don’t know what to do.” You sigh, looking back at her and leaning against the table.
“You’ve been thinking about this for awhile, haven’t you hun?”
You nod, sniffling slightly because you really just don’t know what to. It hurts you to think about hurting either of them.
“C’mere.” The older lady waves you towards her where she pulls you into a hug.
“It must be hard to not have a mum to talk to about this. As awful as it sounds, this truly is just the beginning of a lot of pain and tough decisions in your life. You can come to me at any time, okay? I promise you that. You’re like a daughter to me and I’d hate to see you suffer in silence. Just owl me or come visit me, whatever works for you, okay?”
“Thank you, mrs weasley. You don’t know how much that means to me.”
“Now, about your situation, you just tell them how you feel. Tell them that while your worried it might make things awkward, you had to get it off your chest. Okay?”
“Okay,” you nod. A small smile forming on your lips.
~.~
It’s been a few days since your conversation with Mrs. Weasley and it’s finally Christmas Eve so the burrow is buzzing with excitement.
You have yet to find the right moment to tell Fred and George how you feel, but you figure it can wait a while more. You’ve been able to maintain a fairly regular relationship with them, keeping your conversations playful and away from any feelings. As long as you didn’t think too much about how attractive or caring they are, you could go on pretending everything is the same.
However, as the days progress it becomes increasingly more difficult for Fred and George to pretend that everything is normal. Unbeknownst to you, they had overheard everything you said to their mother that day in the kitchen. While they were more than happy to hear you say that you liked them, they felt terrible that you had been having an internal war between your head and heart.
It was becoming impossible not to notice how adorable you were even when you weren’t doing anything. They’d caught you reading a few times without disturbing you and couldn’t help but observe all the little details of you. Like how you’d bite your lip and smile when you read something that made you happy or how you’d even try to cover your mouth when you’d get smiling a lot. Either way your eyes would show just how happy you were.
“Merry Christmas Eve, Weasley’s! Merry Christmas Eve, Harry!” You smiled as you came down for breakfast.
“Merry Christmas Eve to you too, dear.” Mrs. Weasley smiled, setting a plate of pancakes down in front of you as you took your spot in between Fred and George.
“Is there much we need to do today?” You asked after taking a sip of your coffee that George had made for you.
“Oh, no. Nothing you need to bother help with.” She smiles as she sits down herself.
“Y/n, I was wondering if you’d be willing to go to diagon alley with me? If it’s alright with you, mum? I could really use y/n’s help getting some last minute gifts.” Ginnny asks, looking from her mother to you.
“Of course I would, Ginny. Would that be okay with you, Mr and Mrs Weasley?”
“It sounds lovely. I doubt either of you get much girl time with all these boys around all the time.” Mrs Weasley smiles.
“Perfect! Thank you, mum. And thank you, y/n!”
~.~
“So what gifts did you need to get, Ginny?” You ask as you both walk diagon alley.
“Well, actually. I was hoping to find one for Harry, but I have no idea what to get him. I’d also like to get something for Hermione as well since she’ll be over tomorrow afternoon.”
“Okay. No problem, let’s start with finding something for hermione, okay? She’ll be easier to get something for.”
After a couple hours of looking around and finding a gift for hermione, as well as some extra for her family, you both decide to take a short break.
“Thank you, again, for coming with me today, y/n. I knew you’d be able to help me.” Ginny says, smiling and blushing ever so slightly.
“Of course, Gin. I love spending time with you and it’s even better when I can help.”
“Well now it’s time for me to help you, do you have any gifts for my brothers?” She asks, leaning forward and folding her hands together.
“Of course I do, Ginny. I have gifts for all of you.”
“What did you get Fred and George?”
“I have a few different things for them. You’ll have to wait and see just like them.” You smile.
“Come on, y/n. I’m trying to help you.” Ginny sighs.
“Why? Are you afraid that the gifts I got them aren’t good enough?” You joke.
“No, I’m sure what you got them is wonderful. I just know one of the gifts they got you and it’s reeeally nice.” She emphasizes.
“They did? They know I don’t need anything expensive.” You frown, now worrying what it is they got you and how much it was.
“You’ll really like it though. I promise you.” She smiles and that makes you even more nervous. What could they possibly have gotten you?
~.~
You both finally got back to the burrow late that afternoon after it had started snowing and just kept on picking up.
“Thank heavens you both got home safe. We’ve been watching it snow for the last half hour and it just kept picking up.” Molly said when you both came in the door, shaking off the excess snow.
“Looks like you both had fun.” Fred smirked, nodding towards the few bags in each of your hands.
“We did, thank you very much. I don’t get nearly enough time to hang out with your sister.” You say, setting the bags down to take off your coat and scarf.
“So what did you get?” George asks, trying to peek in the bags as he hands you a mug of cocoa his mother told him to make when she saw the car headlights down the road.
“None of your business.” You chuckle, swatting his arm to get him away from them.
“Ooh, do you have gifts in there?” Fred asks, excitedly.
“Would you both knock it off? What did you think we went out for today? Obviously it’s gifts you dummies.” You chuckle, picking up the bags so they can’t get into them.
“Aw, c’mon. We just wanna see what you got everyone.” Fred pouts, George joining him when you look over at him.
You chuckle and shake your head at the pair. They were definitely something.
“Thank you for the cocoa, George. I’ll be enjoying it upstairs as I wrap these gifts away from you two.”
They pout but can’t help but smile when you walk away shaking your head and smiling at them. They were getting more and more anxious by the minute to give you their gift that they spent days trying to figure out. They only hoped you would like it as much as they thought they would.
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ichika27 · 3 years ago
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Mairimashita! Iruma-kun s2 ep21
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Last episode for this season!
It’s strange we’re only getting 21. It feels like an awkward number to end on since many other anime that goes on for 20+ episodes have at least 24-26. Oh well, s3 has been announced so it’s all good I guess.
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It's still the Apocalypse (the last day of it) and Iruma is trying to finish all of his homework which seem to be going well. He had a lot to do due to homework being doubled.
Why was homework doubled? It's the consequence of a past action...
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It was due to the bet from back at the Walter Park arc! They remembered about it (I kinda forgot about it, honestly, since so many things happened since then).
Grandpa Sullivan is the one to choose the winners and decided it was all of them making them all both the winners and losers of the bet. With this, both the prize and punishments applied - they were treated to an expensive meal but they also have to deal with a ton of homework. Kalego-sensei is pissed he had to pay for everyone’s food but was very happy to tell them that they will be suffering for the rest of the apocalypse.
Iruma worked hard and got through all the homework though.
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This Apocalypse Iruma had: gone on vacation with his friends, went on a sleepover at a friend's house, and went on a date... so naturally, this time around he's spending time with family!
He and Grandpa are gonna go buy school supplies. I kinda missed when me and my family did that back in the day. I always found shopping for school supplies fun.
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Due to the season's earlier events, Iruma has gotten pretty popular it seems so Grandpa gives him anti-recognition glasses for a disguise. Ain’t the boy cute? I dunno why but with anime characters, glasses actually either add or subtract from how good or bad their appearance is.
Haha this reminds me, there’s this anime called “Castle Town Dandelion” and the MC is a girl who hates standing out and in one episode, her sister gave her glasses that could allegedly do the same thing Iruma’s glasses here could. It doesn’t work like that and everyone just acted as if it does to make her feel better. Akane needed this version lol.
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They're headed to Magical Street to go shopping! A new area has been introduced to both us and Iruma.
This is apparently where shops, parks and also teacher's dorms are located. I’m wondering why the teacher’s dorms are here when back in the episodes where Iruma joined the student council, it seems he and the student council members were staying over at school. Why isn’t the dorm for faculty members at school, too then? Weird.
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Iruma's Grandpa is pretty popular, too. People crowded around him as soon as they saw him but doesn't recognize Iruma due to the glasses. Makes me wonder why Grandpa didn't wear ones himself lol.
Grandpa Sullivan isn’t just popular as he’s well-liked, too.
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First, clothes shopping! Iruma tried on a coat as they need some for the upcoming winter. Grandpa decides these were good and takes an entire rack. Damn they're rich lol. He tells Iruma to just wear a different one everyday.
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They're buying accessories next and Opera suggest that Iruma buy a collar for his familiar which is Kalego-sensei lol. Iruma knew it would not end well if he actually did that and declines. Opera is disappointed by this... they really want to mess with Kalego, huh?
I think it’s funny but I also pity Kalego-sensei. Having to deal with his senpai’s antics long after graduating. The nightmare of many former students.
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Next they're buying books! God this makes me miss going to book fairs.
Grandpa tells the staff at the desk what books he wanted and each one he lists off automatically flies down next to him (pretty cool). Grandpa explains that Iruma would need a lot of books to learn more spells. They talked about the spell Fractal (which Iruma used to princess carry Ameri last episode) and Grandpa tells him that with enough practice, Iruma could also use it to be able to fly. Grandpa takes this chance to show-off to Iruma by using it to take down a shoplifter. Everyone in the store is amazed but Iruma's praise is the one Grandpa cares about the most.
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They continue shopping for stuff. This was funny cause the way Grandpa said the lollipop's name reminded me of how Doraemon introduces the items from his pocket. Also, does this mean that lollipop has no expiration date?
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The day ends with the two having a talk (Opera went and got the carriage). Iruma says he had a lot of fun at school which made his Grandpa happy knowing Iruma has gotten used to living here. Grandpa tells him that the new semester would be even more eventful than this one and showed him a poster of what I assume would be the festivals the other fans have been mentioning.
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In the middle of their talk, Iruma suddenly asks Grandpa about how to become a Demon King (likely cause he overheard some people wondering aloud why Sullivan, a powerful demon, didn't want to take the job despite being qualified for it).
Grandpa is surprised and speechless for a moment but then becomes happy and says if Iruma is asking cause he wanted to be Demon King then Grandpa will support him. Iruma explains he’s just curious.
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Flashback! It seems Grandpa used to work for the former Demon King, Delkiller.
Too bad his face is covered. I’m curious to know what he looked like when he was younger.
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Oooh... we finally see him - the infamous Delkiller that's been talked about for a long time. His face isn't completely properly shown for now, I guess but he’s shown to be pretty huge. He seems lazy but he also takes pride in the Demon World he's created. The flashback ends here though.
His hair color reminds me somewhat of Evil Cycle! Iruma’s hair color...
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We get a bit of lore info from Grandpa about Demon Kings.
Grandpa explains about the 13 Crowns - representatives of the Demon World who help govern it - and that to become a Demon King, one must possess the trust of every single one since they'd be the one to rule the Demon World.
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He also explains the role and power of the Demon King - their word is law and they are the Demon World itself. Demons will do as they commanded. The Demon World is a reflection of whoever ruled it and right now, the Demon World is a fun place because Delkiller-sama was a fun person.
Grandpa explains that with all these in mind, he doesn't know if he'd even get the role someday if he wanted it or if he ever did, if he'd be worthy of it. It’s such a big thing after all.
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If he did become the Demon King though, he says he'd do this: make the Demon World "Iruma"-themed lol. Seriously though, he says he'd support Iruma if he'd become the Demon King and would like to see what kind of world Iruma would create.
These statements are very ironic considering who would end up being future Demon King haha.
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While Iruma said he didn’t want to become Demon King, he did end up thinking about it. What if he did become the Demon King?
Hmm... for someone who isn’t interested, he looked like he was thinking deeply about it.
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They get back home and later that night, Iruma checked the stuff Granpa bought him.
Iruma finally gets a hold of the Demon King Prophecy! We've heard about the prophecy before but Iruma probably hasn't yet until now. After listing the stuff about the future king, there’s a shot of Iruma’s hand with his ring haha. Upon reading this, Iruma thought more about it: What kind of world would it become if he were to become the Demon King?
You’re not the only one wondering Iruma. I’m sure the rest of the fandom is wondering that, too.
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The new semester begins! The entire Abnormal class is told that they now have to attain Dalet (4) rank before their second year begins as it's the minimum they'd need to graduate - failure results in them losing the Royal One classroom!
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Not gonna lie, the shopping part of the episode reminded me of the scenes at the beginning of the firsts Harry Potter movies with them shopping at Diagon Alley. It’s fun and I got to see more of the Demon World. I wonder if they’d show us other places in the Demon World in the next season.
Grandpa happily doting on Iruma made me think that maybe it’d have been better for him if he had gotten to adopt Iruma as a child. Iruma is already a teenager and so their time they could spend together wouldn’t be as long or as often since Iruma had friends and busy with school. On the other hand, Iruma gained a lot of experiences in his crappy life before getting here and it did help him become the person he is. I guess the problem here is that he’s human and he probably ages faster than everyone else. :P
Like I mentioned before, it feels weird we only got 21 episodes this time. I was hoping there’d be another arc before the end of the season. There’s already a season 3 announcement and for next year, I think, so its all good. It might feel like a long time but I thought the same back when season 1 ended and now the finale for season 2 had just aired. Time flies fast.
I just wanna point out that in the last scene at the classroom when they were being told about the rank raising they gotta do, Agares is shown with his eyes visible. I’m glad they never put that mask back to cover his face cause he looks good haha. Glad they kept this detail.
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Well, thank you for reading this and the other posts, too if you did. I guess we’d have to wait for season 3 now. I’m glad this show is popular enough to gain another season so fast. :)
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