#there are many things and experiences i've been through that i remember close to nothing from

[flowers-and-pollen]

Do you think, when telling the Hobbit to his children, Tolkien did the voices?

#i think it'd be comforting to think so #that a close to a hundred years ago #tolkien sat next to his children's bed #and told them a silly little story about a silly little creature called a hobbit #and did a silly little voice for each character #i'd like to think that #i don't really remember any of the stories my parents told me before i went to sleep #it's one of the many things i would like to remember #but forgot #and it's a bit saddening #there are many things and experiences i've been through that i remember close to nothing from #and that i'd like to remember #i don't remember watching the Sea Beast with my best friend #and i hope i will remember watching the Fellowship of the Ring with another best friend today #the other best friend is also the person i'm thinking about asking to be my QPP #i know she's probably say yes but #im not sure im ready to be in any sort of relationship #and even if i am i don't know how to ask her #witchy blabs

[purplekissinger]

I am the pretty thing that lives in the castle

And I pray one prayer - I repeat it till my tongue stiffens - Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living; you said I killed you - haunt me, then!  Emily Bronte, ‘Wuthering Heights’.

Y/N became a ghost instead of Myrtle. She couldn't care less about Tom. He wishes he could say the same. Wordcount: 3k.

At their first meeting, Tom even shrieked a little (as he later justified, solely because Y/N took him by surprise). He crept towards the sinks that bathed in the bluish light of the moon, and did not at all expect that someone would jump at him from the ceiling with a  “Boo!”

“Boo,” Y/N said reluctantly and passed through him like a light bluish cloud. Tom closed his eyes, but didn’t feel anything.

“Good evening to you too,” he said, looking at her cautiously. Y/N floated up to the ceiling and was now studying the stucco, running her ghostly finger absentmindedly over the frozen gargoyle masks. “What's new?”

“As you may guess, absolutely nothing,” Y/N responded, “but I like that you’re trying to be polite. It's nice.”

“Do you feel ‘nice’?”

“Not really. I'm using words that I learned in life, but they don't quite describe my experience because I've never experienced anything like this before. I'd rather you be polite than rude, and that's my new “nice.”

Tom looked at her, a luminous spot against the black wall, which trembled slightly, like the wings of a strange butterfly. Y/N died wearing a thin shirt, but there was no longer any way she could be cold or get sick.

“If I didn’t know you were a Ravenclaw, I would have guessed by now,” he said.

“I was different when I was alive,” Y/N said judiciously. “More lively”

“You sure were”.

“No, I mean it. I can't explain it enough for you to understand, but this experience is...changing. Everything becomes so transparent, unreal. If I were the same, I would have already cried barrels of tears and flooded the toilet”.

“There is someone who is eager to do that for you,” Tom said gloomily. “Myrtle has been whining all day long, telling everyone what a wonderful friend you were.”

“Me?”  Y/N sounded surprised. “I can’t remember that we were friends. However, I did stand up for her a couple of times…”

Tom kept silent a little longer, angrily tapping his fingers on the broken edge of the sink. When falling, already dead, Y/N hit her head here. They didn't fix the sink, instead, they put a lock on the toilet door, but Tom sneaked in almost every evening.

“Is that why you’re not angry at me for killing you?” he finally asked.

“Well, technically you didn’t kill me. You just released a basilisk, which also didn't do anything against its nature, so it's kind of like an accident. Although I can understand why you didn’t tell anyone about it all,” Y/N said. “No, that’s not the reason why”.

“You are very understanding,” said Tom. “Is it okay if I stay here a little longer? I need to prepare an essay on the history of magic, and tomorrow is the final match between the badgers and Slytherin. All of Hogwarts is shaking”.

“Make yourself at home,” Y/N said indifferently.

She went down to the Chamber of Secrets with him when the time came to seal it. Hovering silently two steps behind him, she looked at the tunnels and rusty gratings that were many, many centuries old, and for the first time something like curiosity was reflected on her transparent face. For some reason this made Tom feel almost happy. Y/N’s curiosity became almost human when, rustling its scales, a huge snake slowly crawled out of the black hole in the wall and surrounded them with a ring, and put its terrible head so as to get a better look at the guests, and hissed in greeting.

“I've read that those who speak Parseltongue can look a basilisk in the eyes and survive,” said Tom, looking down, “but I don’t want to test that.”

Y/N  looked fearlessly with her dead eyes straight into the face of the creature.

“Yes, the cost of a mistake would be very high,” she said. “What is your pet's name?”

“Susie,” Tom said quietly. “It's a girl”.

Y/N smiled weakly.

“Hello, Susie,” she said. Susie let out a squeal that sounded more like a laugh. “Nice to meet you. Unfortunately, this is not for long, because we have come to seal the Chamber of Secrets forever.”

“For a while,” Tom corrected her. “Susie, I'll be back, I promise. I don't know when, but I'll be back”.

He closed his eyes and stretched his hands forward. The basilisk poked its terrible mouth into his chest, and Tom hugged her. 

***

When Tom returned to school the next year, no one noticed anything, and he even began to think that the ritual did not work, but as soon as he crossed the threshold of the toilet on the third floor, a quiet exclamation was heard from under the ceiling:

“Oh! Tom, what happened to you?”

Like a feather or a petal, Y/N slowly descended towards him. Tom looked at her and thought that flying suited her well.

“Is it that noticeable?” he asked suspiciously.

“You have become very small,” Y/N said, flying around him. “Like this,” and made a small circle with her hands. “Where did half of you go?”.

This is how he learned that ghosts see the effects of Horcruxes.

“I won’t tell anyone,” she promised. “Who was it?”

And Tom told her. About everything, about how he found out who the Gaunts were, about how he found his uncle, about the Riddles, about how scary it was to look at his father’s corpse, because he was so very alike him, about how he made a Horcrux right there while the bodies were still warm. It was easy for him, he wanted to talk, to free himself from every detail, take it out of his head, let Y/N look, discuss, judge.

She was in no hurry to judge. She just said:

“This could backfire on you.”

“How?” Tom suddenly felt offended. He just now realized that he would like her to admire what a cool magician he is, and maybe even clap her hands.

“I know more than you,” she said vaguely. “Not everything, perhaps, but more. Yes, I’m still on the threshold, but from where I’m standing, it’s clear that you acted very rashly.”

“What do you mean by ‘still’?"

She didn't answer.

All autumn, winter and summer he went to visit Y/N, even leaving textbooks in a niche by the window. It was quiet and somehow very cozy there, the light from the window was so gentle, and on sunny days the stained glass windows seemed to light up with colored lights. Y/N was silent for the most part, but seeing her figure out of the corner of his eye and hearing her thoughtful humming under her breath was... nice. This was his new “nice”, because something inside of him began to change inexplicably, irreversibly and horribly.

In winter, he asked her to come to the Yule Ball, and she agreed, and she blew out all the candles and ruined the chandelier. Oh, the chaos!.. And in the spring they celebrated Y/N’s first Deathday Party. For this occasion Tom stole a lemon pie from the kitchen, but Y/N politely thanked him and said that she couldn’t eat that. She fluttered back and forth, he chewed on the pie, they argued about the technique of using Fiendfyre, and it was a nice evening.

“I won’t come back here in the fall,” Tom said suddenly, because in fact that’s all he’s been thinking about for the last few days.

“I know,” Y/N said. “You are in seventh year. I can count to seven”.

“But I’ll come back someday,” he said stubbornly. “I just don’t know when”.

“I think I’ve already heard this once”.

“I’ll come back for Susie too, don’t you worry.”

“And what will we do then, riddle me this?”

“Seize the Ministry of Magic,” he blurted out. “Y/N, I'll miss you. Will you miss me?”

“I would like to tell you something nice in response, but I’ll tell the truth. Maybe I won't be here soon.”

He suddenly felt very hot. Then terribly cold.

“What do you mean you won’t be here? Where are you going to go?” Tom asked in an unnaturally high voice. “Aren’t you here forever?”

“Not really,” Y/N answered evasively. “You see, when I died, I was not at all ready for this”.

“Can anyone possibly be ready for this?”

“You must be ready, Tom. Now I know that. I was confused and made... the wrong choice. Stuck on the threshold. Didn't go any further. But I can step forward at any moment, I just need to think it over carefully and make a decision”.

“Can’t you step back?” Tom asked. He did not put hope into these words, but it sounded nevertheless.

“No,” Y/N answered simply. “I died, Tom”.

He rested his hand on his cheek and watched her spin, arms outstretched, right up to the ceiling, the invisible wind blowing her hair. He said:

“I regret that I didn’t know you when you were alive. I think we could become friends.”

“We could,” Y/N agreed. “But for this to happen you shouldn’t have killed me”.

Tom jumped up sharply and, his burning face hid in his hands, quickly walked out of the room. The door slammed so loudly that the noise echoed throughout the entire corridor.

***

Tom did not soon cross this threshold again.

He walked from Dumbledore's office after the first unsuccessful job interview in his life, he wanted to get out of the castle as quickly as possible so as not to endure this humiliation anymore, but his feet themselves led him to the third floor.

“You have become even smaller,” said a familiar voice, which he had only dreamed about in the morning. Loud, distant, but somehow comforting. “You're barely visible”.

Tom was silent. He looked and still did not believe that he was seeing her again. Finally he grinned and stepped forward.

“But you’re still the same,” he said.

“The same, but not quite,” Y/N objected, going down to meet him. “I thought a lot and almost decided to take a step further”.

“But not yet?”

“Not yet. This is a complex process, and it doesn't get any easier now that I have all the time in the world”.

“What exactly are you doing?” Tom asked, leaning against the wall. A forgotten feeling of comfort covered him in a cool wave. He felt like he wanted to stay.

“I’m thinking,” Y/N said. “A lot”.

“Don’t you need to, I don’t know, take revenge on your murderer?” he asked and realized that it sounded like a request. Lord Voldemort had a lot of requests that day.

“No, thanks,” said Y/N. She looked him up and down with a curious look and added: “It seems to me that there’s not much left of him anyway.”

Tom tiredly sank to the floor and tucked his legs under him. He wanted to talk to her again and again, so that she would answer sharply, but always to the point. He wanted her to scream at him, to rush to claw his eyes out, he wanted her to thirst for revenge.

“I sometimes saw you in my dreams,” he said. “Like we’re friends or something.”

“I have nothing to do with this,” Y/N said. “Have you made any living friends over the years?”

“Wait for me,” Lord Voldemort said without listening to her. He wanted it to sound like an order, but it turned out to be the third request.  “Y/N, I figured out how to defeat death.”

“Sure you did”.

“I am not lying. I really fought it all this time and almost won”.

“I wish you would know how stupid you look now.”

“Are you going to listen or not?! I tell you, wait, I will bring you back, I will fix everything, you will be alive again, I will get you out…”

“Promise?”

“Yes, yes!”

“Lord Voldemort's promise?”

She smiled. Unable to look at her, Tom stormed out.

***

The third time he returned to the castle was on May 2, 1998. He walked along the empty corridors of the third floor, and his steps echoed loudly. He was going to congratulate Y/N on her yet another Deathday. In his hands was not a lemon pie, but an Elder Wand.

The door to the girls' toilet was blown off its hinges by the explosion. He crossed the threshold and saw that the stained glass windows were broken, and golden dawn rays were pouring into the room. For a second it seemed to him that the place was empty, that he was late.

“Oh, Merlin!” a familiar laugh rang out. “What's happened to you, Tom? You have become so very small, smaller than a mouse!”

She came down from the ceiling as before, but for the first time he saw her in the pink rays of the sun, and she seemed almost alive. For the first time he saw her almost alive.

“Come with me, Y/N”, he said softly. His hand trembled a little, grasping his wand. “I will bring you back to life. I will give you back everything and  even more. Soon I will have the Resurrection Stone, and you will live again”.

She laughed even louder, twirled as if in a dance, and he felt uneasy.

“Stupid, stupid Tom,” Y/N said. “Still don’t get this, do you? Everyone gets smarter over the years, but you seem to only get dumber”.

And no Avada Kedavra could shut her up.

“But I'm glad you came. Really, I am. I wanted to say goodbye to you, Tom. I'm finally making that step”.

“No,” Lord Voldemort said in a changed voice. “Don’t. Don’t you dare”.

“Or else what?”

“Don't do this”, when was the last time he begged for something, pleaded? Was it with her?! “Stay. Stay, Y/N. I told you, I'll bring you back!”

“You forgot the magic word”. Y/N giggled. She sank to the floor and looked at him cheerfully and seriously at the same time. “I feel sorry for you, Tom”.

He had heard it once before, but coming from her it sounded and felt like “Crucio.”

“I have to go, really. There's no time to chat. I’ll tell you one more thing. Soon you will be offered a choice one last time, so please, please, don’t be stubborn. Can you do this for me?”

Tom looked at her desperately, afraid to blink, and still missed the moment when Y/N melted into the air.

***

The empty platform shines white, as if it were covered with snow. There are no trains here. No people, too. The bench blackens on the platform like a wound. A faint whimper came from under the bench.

A girl is walking along the platform.

She is wearing a thin shirt, but there is no way that she could be cold. The blue tie is fluttering in the invisible wind. She hurries to the bench, bends down, carefully takes out the bundle of robes from there, and opens it, and smiles a little and carefully presses it to her chest.

#harry potter #tom riddle #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x reader #voldemort x y/n #voldemort x reader

[mo0nfairy]

Ughhhh I neeeeeed part 3 of our guard puppy leon😭😭😭

That was so so good.

Like are you an angel??? How can you write so beautifully??

part 1. part 2. part 4.

tw :: re4 spoilers, obsessive!leon, yandere!leon, guns, explosions, being knocked out, parasites, some obsessive!ashley too.

⸺ eeeek !! ur too sweet! i've been having lots and lots of thoughts about this batshit-insane puppy dog. so, ask and you shall receive ~~

through trial and error (and leon's incessant suggestions to just go home together. you disagree with his suggestion and he can never say no to you, after all), you find ashley hiding in the church. and the immediate liking she takes to you is bridging on the cusp of creepy. what's even creepier is your guard-dog's reaction to such. you appreciate the sweetness the two have for you and how it helps keep you afloat in this absolute hellhole, but something still stalks in the back of your head...

you can't trust leon. you have no idea why, but with every ledge he helps you over or with every drop he catches you from, there is that looming shadow that lurks within you. it's a sense of dread that hangs heavy in your stomach, almost like hanging over the hill of a rollercoaster. there's alarms that blare whenever he gets too close, all that seem to be warning you to get as far away from this man as you can. and for why, you cannot tell. he is kind-hearted, brave, and has saved you from practically every abomination known on planet earth. so, why don't you trust him?

maybe it's the look in his eye. how his gaze for you is practically seeping with sunshine, but whenever he looks at the squeaky mouse on your hip, there's an uncanny shift towards something much darker. (ashley breathes within a mile radius of you and leon literally becomes the gif ^^). his perceptible distaste towards her goes further than his expressive eyes, unfortunately. it's "accidentally" dropping her when she jumps from the ledge, stifling a laugh at her pain only to immediately go red with rage when you help her from the ground. "falling over" and nearly knocking ashley head-first off a ledge; tending to a splinter you got while she tries to avoid being kidnapped by literally 73 los ganados.

ashley's dislike towards the man her father sent to retrieve her is perceptible, too. and her liking to you is even more evident. she'll cower in your embrace when leon shoots his gun a little too close to her ear, smirking at him over your shoulder when she sees how enraged it makes him. she'll interlock your fingers with hers due to being “afraid,” outright refusing to let go from thereon out; she'll ramble about her awesome life as the president's daughter, how astonishing she finds you to be, and how many riches she has (and how she can provide for you *cough, cough*). it's all so bewildering — you have all somehow managed to survive countless near-death experiences and yet, both of them are nothing but daisies and rainbows when your attention is on them.

most importantly, it is so fucking overwhelming. you wonder if their suffocating clinginess is the worst thing you'll actually face in this hellhole.

you're so caught up in avoiding the affections of these two and surviving in the process, you almost completely forget about your memory loss. you have history with this man, whomever he may be. and during trips to the merchant and the shooting range, you think he'll enlighten you on these forgotten pieces while you take a second to breathe. but, he never does. he either glares daggers into the girl at your hip or thoroughly checks your body for wounds you fruitlessly assure him don't exist. so, you guess you only have yourself and your goldfish-like memory to rely on.

all you can remember is his sweet soul, baby-face, and, rather, unconventional displays of affection. and you assume that this is how far the iceberg goes. just you and this lovesick boy in raccoon city. together. but oh, how wrong you were.

the three of you later find yourselves in the amber storeroom. you trace your fingers upon the crevices of the large hunk of amber in front of you, watching in disgust as the parasites within squirm like dying cockroaches. the topic of escaping this nightmare soon arose. you want to make it to luis' laboratory for the purpose of curing ashley of her infection, despite having to separate for a short period of time to retrieve the proper materials. leon just wants to get himself and you out of here, to where you'll live happily ever after in each other's arms.

"it's not too to turn back, you know. if we make it to the lab, we can save ashley, leon. we'll only have to seperate for a second, it's no biggie!" your suggestion falls on deaf ears, much to your dismay.

"not a chance. you're stuck with me to the end." you feel your heart drop at leon's response. the saying unlocks something within you, something you knew you never wanted to come out. it hits you like a train; dread permeates your entire being. you're stuck with me to the end.

an unfamiliar voice then fills the room. before you even have a picosecond to process the additional presence and leon's previous statement, you feel his hand on your arm, to where you're then swung behind him. you see the saddler from your stance over leon's shoulder, giving his whole villain monologue. you managed to derive only one piece on information from the cloaked creature before you: we are all fucked.

black veins travel up the neck of the blonde in front of you. he then falls to his knees, gun clattering onto the floor. ink-black strings spread upon ashley's face, the white of her eyes morphing into a sinister red. the color stiffly frames the green hue of her irises. sobs rack through her body; you hear a whimper of your name escape her mouth. an unseen force causes her to bend down and grasp hold of the gun, the atmosphere overwhelmingly intense. and as if she were a doll, the force pushes each foot in front of the other. closer to you.

you take a cautious step away from her, only to feel your back hit a surface. you turn to meet the chest of someone adorned head-to-toe in white cloth, ragged ropes tied around their waist and neck. their purple, ghastly hand the clutches onto your wrist like a lifeline, the pain causing you to hiss in response. you try and pull away with all of your might, but their inhuman abilities overpower your own. before your bones can crack beneath the sheer force of their strength, a gunshot permeates. your ears ring, thus using your eyes to identify the sudden intrusion of sound. the figure before you is now adorned in blood as it cascades down their once-white cloak. ashley persevered and fought through the infection seeping through her veins to save your life, but you’re too busy staring at the scene before you to realize.

"no... please! please, don't make me!" the force of the saddler returns, however. and the devastated voice of ashley only comes out in a quiet hum, with your hearing still disoriented from the gunshot.

this leaves you here, where you never thought you'd be. while you're gaze is locked on the body ashley brutalized, you're taken by surprise when you feel your body whipped around completely. her arm snakes around your neck as if you were prey, the other pressing the cold surface of the gun's barrel to your temple. you thrash and fight, but your efforts are merely pathetic in comparison to her newly supernatural power.

"we don't need another foolish lamb in our way. sweet child, do not resist!" his voice feels like a chill traveling up your spine. faint and ghostly, but all-too terrifying in the same breath.

you can feel ashley cry in your ear, begging the monster in front of you to let you both go. closing your eyes, you pray to whatever almighty being truly exists that you'll soon wake up back in your bed. then, you'll enjoy your breakfast and pantomime to your cat about the insane dream you just had. but, ashley's hyperventilated breaths still fan against your face and her grasp on you is still air-tight. as much as you wish it wasn't, this is your reality. and, inevitably, you will most likely die in the embrace of the girl you fought tooth-and-nail to save.

leon still clenches his body in agony; his gaze remaining locked to the ground beneath him. his attempts to fight against the pain with every sliver of strength in his body were futile. but, in a flare of clarity, leon is fortunately able to overcome the immense pain momentarily. his blue eyes, wide as dinner plates, frantically search around for you. and the scene he finds behind him causes his heart to sink into oblivion.

"no!" the sheer anguish in his cry is enough to grasp the attention of every presence in the room. 6 years. 6 years. he has been waiting over 2,190 miserable days to be with you. and as i stated before, like hell will he let you slip from his grasp again.

leon scrambles to his feet. but, before he can bring you into his tenacious embrace, kill everything that moves, and vow to never ever let anything like this happen to you ever again, that same force stops him within his stance. his hands halt inches from your face, so, so close, as he desperately reaches out to you. leon fights and resists, despite the agony swimming in his black-colored veins from doing such. he must get to you, no matter how much pain and suffering he must endure.

you are everything he could ever need; you are the very definition of his existence. his sobs rival those of someone overcome with grief and he is terrified of the fact that it may be him momentarily. so close to happiness, but now all alone. once again and forevermore. you can only watch in trepidation as he shakes with pure terror, muffled cries of "take me instead" and "please, anyone but them!" escaping through clenched teeth.

with the faint click of ashley's dainty finger, she pulls on the trigger. there is nothing.

silence hits the room like a tsunami. you're alive, but you don't dare let yourself hope. waiting for the other shoe to drop, it never falls. ashley's grip on you relaxes, to where you rip her arms off of you and practically throw yourself across the room. anywhere far from the insanity caused by this horrid infection. the two people you survived hell with are still under the trance, however. miserable cries protruding through the quiet; bodies shivering like someone who has been thrown into a winter lake. their eyes peer to their side, desperate to move their heads to look at you and ensure your safety.

you're still attempting to process what had just occured when you suddenly hear rumbling echoing in the distance. something soars through the sky, landing right at the feet of the saddler and his minions. chaos pervades as an explosion waves through the room, causing every piece of matter to ascend into the air, including yourself. you’re flung into the wind, where you then land harshly against the unforgiving ground. you cough into your arm in an attempt to rid your body of the smoke satiating your lungs.

"sorry, bad traffic! one combat chopper, compliments of hunnigan!" you hear the eccentric voice, the mention of hunnigan, the whirring of a helicopter and finally smile to yourself for the first time in what feels like years. help! it’s finally here!

a substance trickles down your forehead and down the expanse of your face. you bring your fingers to your skin, only to find the digits to be adorned with warm blood. following the trace, you soon realize during the pandemonium of the eruption, something had hit you square in the skull. fuck.

you hear a shout of your name before everything goes dark.

#resident evil 4 #re4 #re4 remake #resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #yandere leon kennedy #ashley graham #ashley graham x reader #ashley graham imagine #yandere ashley graham #yandere resident evil #yandere #gn reader #gender neutral reader #venus’ brain #moonfairy

[1-800-kami]

agnes, just stop and think a minute

gojo satoru x reader (1.2k)

" you're gone but you're on my mind, i'm lost but i don't know why. ,,

warnings: CHAPTER 236 SPOILERS, reader and shoko r going THRU it, i wrote this during a mental breakdown, denial, semi-comfort at the end

a/n: when i found out about what happened i just spent 2 hours on social media just. watching everything gojo related and i kind of wanted to reflect my reaction through this word vomit of a drabble. i haven't cried at all but i just feel so devastated and oh my god it's been terrible. rest in peace to my bb </3

based off of one of my favorite glass animals songs (agnes) that i've always associated with gojo.

you like to think that grief in your life always comes and goes.

it’s a part of being a jujutsu sorcerer. each day, new people are trained to become one, and others die the same day. there are new beginnings, and people who meet their ends. you know sorcerers out there who have completely closed themselves off just so they don’t have to experience the soul crushing feeling of grief. 

it’s like a bud, they say. a bud that forcefully plants itself in your heart, and you can do nothing but watch it grow as it takes hold of every part of your being. people describe the feeling in many ways: a weight on top of your chest that won’t cease, or a part of your heart that’s been ripped away, and nothing in your life seems to fill the remnants of it. 

you’ve experienced grief in your life many times. loss is so normalized as a sorcerer that you’ve almost lost count at this point, but the ones that have hit you the hardest are the deaths of your closest friends: kento nanami, yu haibara, and geto suguru. they haunt your thoughts every day, up until the point where everything feels asphyxiating and you sometimes want to join your friends too.

you think that geto’s death hit you the hardest. 

you remember geto’s disappearance and the night parade of a hundred demons like it was yesterday. the hardest pill to swallow about his death was the fact that it could’ve been prevented. geto’s lifeless eyes made you see parallels from the weeks leading up to his disappearance. he just needed a push in the right direction, but then you couldn’t even do that and you didn’t see all the signs of his deteriorating mental health. you just felt so guilty, even though your friends assured you that it wasn’t your fault.

seeing geto’s body for the first time after 10 years made you wail uncontrollably–and you had to be forcefully pried off of him despite your screams of protest. the most prominent thing about his body were his lifeless eyes–and guilt coursed through your veins as you knew that they were probably devoid of life even before his death.

that guilt stuck with you for a long time, and you felt it until you thought that it would consume you whole.

that’s why shoko was hesitant to show you gojo’s body.

she knows that you would have an emotional outburst again, like last time. actually, she knew this one would be worse, because geto was a best friend to you, but satoru was the light of your life. he was your lover. your soulmate, even. the reason why you were excited to come home everyday. he grieved about geto with you, and you held each other when you both cried… usually when december 24th was nearing again. you think that, without satoru, you don’t know what you would do. you kept each other sane and grounded.

so you don’t understand.

why is his body in front of you right now? why are all your students crying around you and mourning gojo’s loss? it’s all the sorcerers are talking about right now, and you just don’t get it.

he’s the strongest, so why did he fucking leave you behind like this? no, no. he wasn’t supposed to lose that fight. he said it himself. he said he’d win, right? he’d win, and he’d come home, albeit injured, but home nonetheless. he’d celebrate his victory with you, and life would go on. so why did he lie?

that’s the only word coursing through your head. why?

you tried not to think about anything right now… like how there was probably so much crimson red on that battlefield. if you saw it, you’d think that the red would leave an everlasting stain in your mind, to the point where you’ll never forget about it. no matter how many times you’d wash your hands, all that red would still be there, and you hate to think about it.

you like to think that grief in your life always comes and goes.

people describe the feeling in many ways, but if you had to describe how you felt right now, the only word you’d use is empty.

you feel so utterly empty and hollow, that you can’t even bring yourself to cry or scream.

shoko’s surprised at your reaction. when she told you what happened, you became eerily silent. your eyes and gojo’s were practically identical. both so devoid of life, that all she can bring herself to say is, “im sorry.”

what do you even say at a time like this? what do you say to someone who’s had their heart ripped apart again and again as they watch each of their friends die? for you and shoko, it’s happened four times now. four is too much. you can’t bring yourself to believe it anymore.

no. this isn’t real.

this isn’t happening right now.

you move for the first time in what seems like ages, and you place your hand in gojo’s open casket, tucking a stray pearl white strand behind his ear. you observe him for a minute. he looks so peaceful, now that he doesn’t have to worry about his infinity or constantly being on his guard anymore.

“shoko, i think he’s hungry.” you say, feeling the ice cold veins in your chest stilling.

your words catch shoko off guard. “huh?”

“he’s hungry,” you repeat simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. you look away from his body and turn to leave. “i’m going to go buy kikufuku for him.” 

you suddenly remember all of the dates you’ve had with satoru, where you buy many sweets like kikufuku, but he always made sure to save you some. he’s known for his notorious sweet tooth—putting one too many sugar cubes in his drinks, but he’ll always share his sweets if it’s with you. even if it was kikufuku.

“it’s his favorite after all.”

you walk out of the funeral, leaving behind the confused and sympathetic looks of everyone there. shoko sighs at your reaction—she’ll let you go for now. everyone’s processing this in different ways, so she can’t blame you for how you’re dealing with satoru’s death. she’ll just hope you’ll learn to accept it soon.

on the way to get kikufuku, you spot a pet shop nearby. there’s a fish tank on display, and you notice that one of the tanks has a white betta fish inside. it’s the same shade as satoru’s hair, and you feel your feet moving on its own as you walk to the glass. you exhale with a shaky sob, placing a hand on it. i love you, satoru. i won’t say goodbye, though, cause i’ll be there eventually.

you make sure not to say “soon” because you knew that if you took your life with your own hands instead of letting fate choose your death, satoru would never let you hear the end of it. so you’ll keep living. you’ll keep living for yourself and satoru, even though you want to join them. every single day hurts and it also hurts to even breathe sometimes. though you know, somewhere out there, satoru and your friends are cheering you on with every step you take.

wait for me… okay?

the betta fish suddenly notices your presence, and swims up against the glass. so close, yet so far. you take that as satoru’s answer. it was like you could hear his voice directly speaking to you.

i’ll always wait for you, no matter how long it takes.

you smile for the first time today, even if it was barely a smile. you felt a familiar presence with you on the other side of that glass, even if it was just for a short moment, and it gave you what strength you had left to keep moving.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk #gojo angst #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru comfort #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #jjk manga spoilers #jjk manga

[zoeykallus]

Hello! 👋

I LOVE your work and the way you capture the personalities of the characters. You're incredibly talented.

I'd like to request an 18+ one shot with Crosshair (fem reader) that's a little different than normal...

Cross is always very cold, rough, and distant, so I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if he started being gentle with the reader. But still in a Crosshair kinda way.

Here's what I was thinking (TW, i briefly mention the reader having past sexual/relationship traumas): The reader and Crosshair have worked together on and off for years. They never really talk about personal things or get emotional because they're both kinda similar. But they have feelings for each other that are on a deeper level than they've experienced before with others. Something happens where they end up being alone and emotionally vulnerable in front of one another (perhaps Cross saves the reader from something and gets all protective and has to calm the reader down from panicking and it gets steamy 😳🤤) and it basically ends in getting laid. But perhaps the reader is afraid of romance and intimacy from past experiences that Crosshair knows a bit about, and he truly loves her so instead of being quick and rough with her, he starts really slow, gentle, and sensual and it gradually gets more intense 🤭.

Take your time and prioritize your mental health!!

And I know that this could potentially encompass some heavy topics, so don't feel obligated to write this! 🫶❤️

Aloha!

🤔 Okay, I needed a while to read through all this and I did it repeatedly because for some reason nothing of it stuck in my head. That's what sleep deprivation does with you, no focus at all.

Now, I don't think Crosshair is always very cold, rough and distant. First of all, he's mostly playing it. I think it's mostly part of a self-defence act. 'Stay professional and don't let anyone get too close.' That stoic pure soldier behavior is kinda like a shield I think. Well, at least in my HC. Anyway, I know what you meant, so never mind 😅

Let's see if I can do this...

Crosshair x Fem!Reader One-Shot - The Unexpected Gentleness

Warnings: Angst/Tension/Protective Crosshair/ Soft Grumpman Crosshair/Suggestive/Described Sexual Intercourse/Spicy Handsy Stuff/ Implied Past Trauma Of Reader/Soft Smut(?)/18+

AC: A hundred years late, I'm finally done with this request. This may, or may not be, the longest One-Shot I've written so far... I don't know anymore by now, it certanly feels like it. I definitely wrote too much stuff to remember 😅 Didn't proofread this yet, because I'm close to keeling over any minute, sorry.

You never thought you would end up in this situation. Crosshair and you have been separated from the rest of the group by a storm. Since you were supposed to explore a cave system anyway, and you are protected from the storm inside, you continue to explore and scan the tunnel system. However, you are not the only ones seeking refuge from the storm in the caves. The group of black market smugglers you are looking for are also there. It all happens very quickly, from one moment to the next you are attacked. Blaster shots fly through the tunnel system and echo off the cave walls. Your flashlights only partially illuminate the cave, many dark corners where the enemy could be, remain lightless, and so two of the men are able to sneak up behind you. Someone jumps into your back and rams you hard to the ground, at first you can't breathe, you feel a knee in your back, your attacker holds you on the ground while he takes off everything you could have used as a weapon.

The impact was hard and painful, you gasp for air in panic as it almost feels as if the oxygen will never return to your lungs. The helpless position you find yourself in stirs up panic in your mind. There it is again, air, frantically you breathe in and out far too quickly. Your eyes are burning, fine stone dust and tears. You can't move, you can't defend yourself, you can't breathe properly, you can't even find your voice to scream. Then you hear a thudding sound, a startled gasp and in the same second the weight is gone from your back. You roll around, crawl to the cave wall and crouch down. You nervously scan the surroundings with your flashlight. Crosshair. He is standing over a man, presumably the one who was kneeling on your back earlier. The man on the ground is no longer moving, Crosshair is standing over him with his blaster. The Sniper looks in your direction, shielding his eyes with his hand against the beam of your flashlight. "Stop blinding me," he growls. "Sorry," you stammer, lowering the flashlight beam. You tremble as Crosshair crouches down in front of you and takes a closer look at you. "Breathe evenly, slowly, in and out. You're hyperventilating."

You blink several times, then force yourself to breathe in and out slowly, feeling your pulse finally calm down. "That's it," Crosshair grumbles, "Keep breathing," and helps you to your feet. He shakes his head and growls to himself, "That's what you get for having to take untrained staff with you"

For a second you want to say something defiant, but you see the look on his face and swollow it down. Usually you can handle his sass and grumble, but you are still shaken from what happened.

You bow your head in shame and silently follow him further along the tunnel system to a junction that looks like a small room. Slightly elevated from the rest of the tunnel, a slightly larger alcove. "We'll camp here for now," says Crosshair, and takes off some of his equipment, including his backpack and its contents. You do the same, and you pile up your blankets so that you can sit and lie reasonably softly. He also sets up a camping light, so you can see each other. Crosshair steps to the edge of the alcove, away from the blankets, and silently, impatiently beckons you towards him. You hastily follow his invitation, still with your head bowed. You hear him sigh, then you feel his hand under your chin. He forces you to look at him and scrutinizes your eyes. "You need to rinse your out your eyes, or they'll get infected. They're already red. You have stone dust in your eyes" He hands you his water bottle, which you take with a shaky hand. But when he sees the trembling in your fingers, he takes the bottle from you again.

"Head to the side and open your eyes," he demands curtly. You comply with this request too. You squint as he begins to clean your eyes. "Pull yourself together," he says quietly, almost gently. After a while, he hands you a clean handkerchief with which you dry your face, then he asks, "How are things looking, do you still feel foreign particles in your eyes?" You blink to test, then shake your head. "No, it's all gone." Crosshair nods and hums, "Good" He sits down on the blankets he spread on the floor earlier and beckons you over. "Sit down" You comply and sit down next to him. When he takes off your jacket, you flinch and stiffen. Crosshair pauses and looks at you questioningly, then says calmly, "I want to see if you've been hurt, bruised or anything, things you might not have noticed under adrenaline" You take off your jacket yourself and say, "My chest hurts a bit, but I don't think anything is broken" He carefully touches you over your T-shirt and applies pressure to your ribs. "Does that hurt?" You shake your head. "No, it's more of a constant, slight pain. It'll just be a few bruises" "Can I have a look?"

You blink uncertainly. You actually trust him, but you're still hesitant. "What's wrong?" he asks with a raised eyebrow. You swallow and say quietly, "I had more than my fair share of unpleasant experiences in the past with letting my guard down with people, physically" He growls softly then says, "You can be sure that won't happen to you with me. I don't cross boundaries I'm not supposed to, you're in control. A simple word is enough." Crosshair sounds unusually gentle, and at first you can only look at him in surprise. But he doesn't push you any further, waiting patiently. Finally, you nod and take a deep breath. You take your shirt off over your head and sit next to him in your bra. He wants to stare, to take a close look at you, but he concentrates decently on your rib area. His fingertips glide carefully over one spot. The touch gives you goose bumps. "Here," he says calmly, "A slightly larger bruise, not too bad" You breathe a sigh of relief and smile nervously. "Turn around," he says gently, "Show me your back."

You do as you're told and feel his fingertips on your skin again. "It looks the same here, a bruise, nothing to worry about" His hand moves to the back of your neck, and you feel a gentle shiver run down your spine. He says a little growling, "That asshole got you pretty good, saw him sweep you off your feet. I was attacked by his buddy at the same moment, otherwise I would have reacted faster" "Thanks for saving me, I would have been lost without you" Crosshair snorts softly, and you can hear the smile in his voice as he says, "Indeed" You slowly turn to face him, still half naked, your shirt lying next to you on the blanket. He's not staring at your breasts though, but at your face as you say, "I'm sorry if I'm a liability on this mission" Crosshair rolls his eyes, but his voice sounds soft as he says, "You do your part, I'll take care of the rough stuff, we complement each other well enough" He studies your face in silence for quite a while, and you find it hard to look at him, you're always so nervous around him even though he doesn't really give you a reason to be.

Braver than you feel, you ask him, "What are you thinking about right now?" Crosshair blinks, looks back into your eyes and says, "About how much I'd like to touch you right now. But that's probably not appropriate. Apart from the fact that you probably don't want me to." Your heart starts to race. A mixture of joy, nervousness and a little fear flood your system. Your heart is beating so hard in your chest, you can feel it all the way up into your throat. You fight with yourself while he looks at you calmly, patiently, waiting. You're fascinated by him, you've liked him for a while, maybe you even have a crush on him. But you didn't expect him to say it so directly here and now. "You want to touch me?" you ask, as if you're not quite sure what these words mean. He tilts his head slightly to the side, then nods and says, "I'm thinking about it, yes. But having just seen how nervous my closeness makes you, I'm holding back." You say honestly in a low voice, "I just don't know how to read you. Sometimes you seem so considerate and thoughtful, other times rather harsh and rude" Crosshair raises his eyebrows, then says, "I'm a soldier, I can't always be gentle" You sigh softly and say, "I know that, I meant explicitly when dealing with me"

He frowns critically and asks, "I was rude to you? When?" "Not rude," you say hurriedly, "Just... grumpy" Crosshair rolls his eyes, but a smirk twitches at the corner of his mouth. "I'm a bit impatient sometimes, that may be. I'm not used to working with civilian agents, even though we've known each other for a while now and have worked together from time to time. I'm usually surrounded by other soldiers. There's not much room for subtlety, especially in the field" You nod, you can understand that. Nevertheless, he is very different from his brothers, Wrecker or Tech, for example, are much more relaxed, even Hunter, but you keep this observation to yourself. "Quite understandable," you finally concede. His features relax a little, and he asks you, "Are you afraid of me?" You shake your head and answer without hesitation, "No, not at all" He smirks and says, "I think so too. If you were, you'd probably have put your shirt back on by now. Physical nakedness is also a certain form of showing vulnerability. If you didn't trust me, you would have covered up again long ago"

You blink and realize with surprise that he is right, your shirt is still next to you, you had almost forgotten about it. He slowly reaches out to your face and gently places his hand on your cheek. You hold still and look at him, fascinated, feeling the warmth of his hand on your skin. His face comes closer, closer and closer. You automatically close your eyes a second before his lips touch yours. It starts with a gentle touch, almost chaste. A few breaths pass before you feel gentle pressure on your lips and return it. You let yourself be pushed backwards, slowly, gently, until you are lying on your back and Crosshair is halfway over you. His lips part from yours, and he lifts his head to look at you. "I had to try it now," he says with a smirk, "How do you feel?" For lack of better words, you say simply, "Warm" He chuckles softly. "Warm is good" You smile too, even though your heart is racing, you're not afraid of him or his touch, you know you're in good hands, you know you can trust him. He would never hurt you, never push you. You know that a simple word will be enough to put him at a distance again, that he will always respect your boundaries. You feel safe, and your hands wander over his arms, on his chest, over the cool material of his armor.

"Maybe I should at least take off the hard parts of my gear?" You nod and say, "That would be better" Crosshair straightens up again, and you prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him remove one piece of armor at a time until he's wearing only the Blacks on his body. He lies half over you again, resting his weight on his arms and knees. Crosshair looks you straight in the eye and says, "You're not forced to do anything and I won't be upset if you'd rather have me at a distance, you can always say something and I'll back off" You smile at him and nod. "I know, I really appreciate that" He shakes his head and says, "That should go without saying, for everyone, you don't have to be grateful for that. But I noticed earlier how insecure you are and when you mentioned that you've had bad experiences, I thought I should mention it. I don't want you to feel forced into anything" You nod again. You automatically want to say thank you again, but you swallow it. "I don't feel any pressure at the moment" He kisses you again, this time more urgently, more sensually. Close to your lips, he whispers, "Tell me if that changes" You want to answer him, but then you feel his tongue gliding over your lower lip, testing, questioning, searching for access. Your lips open automatically and let him in. Your tongues meet in a velvety collision that sends a shiver through your whole body and makes the heat move under your skin, between your thighs. A soft, sweet sigh comes from your throat, a sound that triggers an intense feeling of success, satisfaction in Crosshair. His long arms wrap around you, one of his long legs slips between yours. Immediately you feel the pulse between your thighs, in the intimate heat of your womanhood. His tongue flicks playfully against yours again and again, chasing it with velvety strokes. Every touch of his tongue in your mouth makes your clit pulsate as if he were kissing you in a completely different place.

His long, elegant fingers undo your belt and pants, pull your belt out of the loops and put it to one side. Just the idea and anticipation of every touch makes your pulse race, your nerve endings vibrate and your panties get wet. You imagined it differently, you expected more fear, but you feel completely safe, Crosshair is gentle, considerate, something unfamiliar, unexpected, but very welcome. As his lips part from yours, he lets out a somewhat shaky breath. His muscles are tense, he holds back. You both know he wants more, but he's taking it a lot slower than his body wants right now. "Is everything all right?" you ask softly, your mind still foggy from his kisses. "Of course," Crosshair grumbles and kisses your neck. The touch makes your nipples harden and causes you to wriggle out of your pants automatically, almost of your own accord, and slip them off your body. Another shaky gasp from Crosshair. His fingertips glide over your shoulder, your stomach, your thigh and back up again. They barely touch your skin, just very gently, then they grab, your thigh, then past your thigh to your right bun. His grip is firm, but not hard.

"I've been waiting for what feels like an eternity for us to get closer," he says, lost in thought, you're not even sure if the words are really meant for you.

His hand leaves your bun and moves forward, over the fabric of your panties, gliding gently over them, drawing teasing circles. Your thighs open for him, your mouth slightly open, another sigh comes from your throat. His lips brush gently over your chin and when he looks at you again, he grins. "You seem pretty comfortable around me by now" Your cheeks are warm as you answer him with a grin, "You could say that" You feel his hard length against your thigh through the fabric of his blacks. He presses himself closer to you, kissing his way from your chin to your ear. Once there, he whispers to you, "Feeling good so far?" A shiver runs through your body, only a small hoarse sound comes out of your mouth. Then his face is over yours again, he smiles smugly, he knows exactly what his words have just triggered in you. The moment he kisses you again, his nimble fingers slip under the fabric of your panties, slowly moving further down towards your heated, wet center. He is gentle, teasing, gliding and caressing over your soft folds. You feel a pulse very clearly, Crosshair's gentle touch awakens in you the desire for more. You buck up your hips, the motion causing his fingers to slide further down, to your expectant wet opening, and a fingertip slides in ever so slightly.

"I can see," he says contentedly, in a smoky voice, "I've whetted your appetite for more" And he's right, you want more, so much more, more contact, to feel more of him. You tug on his blacks, try to take them off. He is only too happy to help. At last you are both completely undressed. Your bodies press against each other, naked skin against naked skin. You're both giving off so much heat, you've long since stopped feeling the coolness of the cave. Crosshair's fingers are all over your skin, gliding, caressing, groping, one pleasant shiver after another coursing through your body. Everything blurs in your perception, all you feel is the heat of your bodies, the pulse between your thighs, Crosshair's touch. As soon as he's on top of you, you cling to him, pulling him closer to you, not giving him a chance to wander. You are so unexpectedly hungry for him that even the Sniper is surprised when you reach down between you, grab his cock and guide it to your wet entrance. He pauses, however, the tip barely an inch sunk into your pussy. "Are you sure you want this?" You blink, your face heated, looking up into his face. Your legs hook around his thighs and press him closer to you, making him slowly sink into you.

Crosshair is well-hung, you can clearly feel him stretching you, sliding deeper into your pussy. But he's careful, even bracing himself a little against your leg clamps that push him deeper inside you. "Slow down, kitten, I don't want to hurt you" You realize he's right, it doesn't hurt yet, but his massive cock is clearly making itself felt in your wet heat. You loosen your grip and let out a soft, deep sigh. He looks at you scrutinizingly, then smiles and says, "You're doing very well, kitten" Slowly he sinks deeper, as far as he can go, then he pauses, leans his forehead against yours and has to collect himself. The tightness that surrounds him feels incredibly intense. You see him bite his lip before he slowly begins to move inside you. Your legs cling to him again, your hands move to his shoulder blades, your fingers cling to his shoulders. It feels like his whole body is the perfect fit for you. The stimulation is everywhere you need it as your bodies melt together. You feel every taut muscle in his body, hear his soft, raspy gasps. Your bodies move together in perfect unison, your head sinks back, a smile spreads across your face as Crosshair looks at you mesmerized, you close your eyes and take in the feeling of him filling you completely.

It's not invasive like you feared, not at all. It feels tender, just right, the way his body nestles against and into you. The pulse intensifies, your fingernails press into his shoulders automatically. Spurred on by this, Crosshair moves a little faster. A hoarse moan escapes your lips, louder than expected, followed by a quiet, surprised, "Oh fuck..." You weren't expecting this intensity, this feeling. Your hands automatically move to his ass and claw into it as you feel yourself slithering towards a climax. Crosshair lets out a small, surprised grunt as your nails dig into his buns, but then he lets out a satisfied growl and a grin twitches at the corners of his mouth as he intensifies his thrusts. You don't hold back at all, your moans and gasps, hoarse, expectant, about to explode. It's music to his ears, adding more fire to his own arousal. As your thighs twitch around his body, your pussy around his cock and you drop beneath him with a long, husky sigh, the knot in his abdomen loosens, the tension dissolving into a long, intense, slowly ebbing pulse as he cums inside you.

You laugh, quietly, grinning. You feel so good, so relieved, liberated, safe. He looks at you, one eyebrow raised. "Feeling good, I guess?" You giggle. "Good? No, great." Crosshair smirks, kisses your chin, your nose, your lips, and leans his forehead against yours with a sigh. "Mission accomplished," he murmurs softly.

@rintheemolion

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@1vlouds

#star wars #tbb #the bad batch #clone force 99 #sw tbb #crosshair #smut #suggestive #suggestive text #bad batch crosshair #clone trooper crosshair #crosshair bad batch #crosshair tbb #crosshair the bad batch #crosshair x reader #crosshair x you #tbb crosshair #tbb crosshair x reader #the bad batch crosshair #bad batch #crosshair smut #soft crosshair #spicy tbb #tbb x reader #star wars tbb #tbb fic #star wars the bad batch

[moonystoes]

Nurse? - Elisa De Almeida x reader (highschool students)

Summary: When the school has never felt this empty, you decide to escape the students by helping out the nurse. Only to find out you can't escape her.

Warning: yap sesh I'm sorry, confusion??(girl me too idk), an annoying guy x

Wc: 5.670k

A/n: Ugh writing the summary is worse than the whole fic wtf. Also finding pics and trying to make the coloring match is shit I'm sorry LMFAO. Apologies for the late post, I've been going through it in school. and as I said again, im pretty new to writing so constructive criticism or advice is needed :)

Part one

This is FANfiction. Please don't view Elisa this way.

-

“Do you know who you're going to prom with?” You turned to look at Sam, walking down the school hallway to your shared class. Prom has been a topic of conversations since they first revealed it two months ago. Now, prom will happen in two weeks, and all the young teens are procrastinating to look for partners.

“Ugh, no! I don't even know why our school decided to add this thing. We don't have to copy Americans, let them do their thing and we will do our thing.” She groaned loudly. You looked around you, noticing people glancing at her weirdly.

“Okay… but the students voted for it, not the school. So technically it's our fault.” You whispered, tugging her closer to remind her to lower her voice. You thought about who might ask you out. Xavi has been eyeing you for a while, but he was caught creating fake Instagram accounts to catfish girls. So there is no possible way of you agreeing to go with him. Edward was a year older than you, and you've been chatting with him at lunch. As much as you enjoyed the conversations with him, you didn't feel anything with him. He was the most attractive guy in his grade, his hazel eyes and dark skin made the girls swoon around him. For you, his personality isn't as attractive as his face, therefore you aren't crazy about him.

Then there is Paul, your childhood friend. You've known him since first grade, sitting together at the school park. In your head, you had imagined your friendship to stay forever, until you both get jobs and live close to each other. But after the both of you hit puberty, he started to act weird and felt uncomfortable around you. You hated it, but you knew it was bound to happen anyways.

It also didn't help you how attractive he grew to be, his short dark hair matched his brown eyes but also contrasted with his pale skin. His soft smile and attentive personality made many of the girls attach to his hip. You were never insecure about your looks, but now you started to question yourself. Did he stop our friendship because I was too ugly?

At some point, some of the girls came up to you and asked what he likes so they can ‘buy him a gift’. Your response was an easy lie, ‘I don't remember, it's been years.’

That doesn't make you guys strangers, he still comes and talks to you every once in a while, just like now.

“Hey y/n… can we talk privately?” Paul startled you. You turned to look at him with confusion, the last time you talked to each other was last month when he asked for the English homework (which you reluctantly gave to him out of kindness… and because you're a people pleaser). You glanced at Sam to check if she's okay with you leaving her, she gave you a small nod and left the both of you alone.

“So… have any plans for the winter dance? Or prom I don't even know what it is.” He awkwardly grabbed your arm and pulled you to the side of the corridor to not interrupt the people walking.

“Are you asking me out as your date?” You questioned slowly.

“What! No…i mean yes. Do you want to come with me?” He shook his head, obviously distracted with something. You stayed silent for a few seconds to think about it. You aren't a ‘party’ person, but the winter prom is a new thing and you wanted to experience it for once. Paul was a complicated guy, he wouldn't talk to you for months and then approach you like nothing happened. At least when he does approach you, he treats you right, or that’s what you thought.

“Sure…do you have any planning? For the dress or just the day as a whole?” You asked. Everytime you watch an American teen movie, you imagine yourself and Mr. Perfect together at a shop buying a dress, the shocked face when they see you going down the stairs all glammed up, going to dinner before prom, and having a soft kiss at the dance…. Although now you don't really feel like sharing your first kiss with Paul.

“Oh?... What thing for the dress? And no, I didn't volunteer for the dance so I didn't plan anything with the organizers,” And just like that your hopes were crushed, of course a 14 year old boy wouldn't know a thing about romance. He clearly didn't care about what dress you'll wear, or what the both of you would do before the event. You shook your head with a sigh, faking a smile and walking past him to your class. “Ohhh! I did vote for you for prom queen… you know? So we both can be like ‘famous’. You should vote for me, if that's what you mean.”

You felt disappointed, pretending not to hear him and walked into your first class. Great. He ruined your day and it just started.

-

Your parents were excited when you told them about Paul asking you. Of course, they've known him for years and his parents are in touch with yours. You were at the store trying to look for an ‘age appropriate’ dress. Your father is staying in the car, obviously fed up with the indecisive behaviors from you and your mom.

“Look, this is great!” You heard your mom cheer from the back of the store, she came up to you with a flower print dress and a bright smile on her face.

“Mom, it looks like I work on a farm.” You sighed, turning to the other side where there are dresses lined up.

“Are you serious? It looks amazing. I like it!” Yeah, you like it. You turned to look at it again, but the sadness in your mother's face caught you off guard. So you decided to lie. You grabbed the dress from her hand and turned it to see it ‘from every angle’.

“You know what? I think it's great. And it's not expensive like the other dresses here.” You faked a smile and looked at the cashier that was standing uncomfortably close to the both of you. You handed her the dress and both went to the checkout.

For you, making decisions isn't something you care about. Everytime you think of something, you'd agree with the others because at the end of the day ‘it's not that serious’. Sometimes, your friends end up scolding you for choosing people's happiness over yours. But when you turned to glance at your mother's happy smile, it was worth it.

-

Wed 19th of December 2012

The next week, Paul had thrown your prom ticket into your locker with no message or any indication. At least he bought you the ticket. Sam has gotten sick as well as the other two girls close to the both of you. She had sent you a message saying she probably won't be at prom, explaining in great details of her vomit and sickness.

You felt all alone and the class has never felt emptier. Fleur had a major knee injury from football practice, two guys were suspended for a fight. Students are calling this week a curse, considering that it's wednesday and prom will just be in a few days. The filled class now is almost half empty, making the class feel quiet.

“Okay…since most of the students are absent, we won't take a lesson today,” Cheers erupted from the class, happy to not have biology. “I'm not done! You will be partnered up to discuss prom preparations.”

The atmosphere changed from cheering to groaning in a second. You glanced at Paul, wondering if he would be your partner. You hoped that Paul would realize he has responsibilities for prom today when the both of you discuss it. But as the teacher started labeling the partners, you realized that it doesn't matter who is your date, she is randomly assigning them.

“Elisa and Marie you don't need to sit at the back anymore, the class is practically empty. Elisa, you sit with y/n. Katoto, sit with Adam.” You sighed frustratingly, why her? During the two months of school, she has been treating you like dirt. Ignoring you and always avoiding you. Whenever teachers put you in groups, she'd ask the teacher if she can be partnered with Fleur instead.

But she's been more open and relaxed now, and it's somehow freaking you out. She has made some friendships there and there with the other girls. She laughs louder, jokes more with her side of the class. And even if her ignorance towards you confused you at first, it wasn’t why you were freaked out. It's how she treats the girls in class. It's like the guys…but gentler? She stares at Amy the same way the guys do, with heart eyes. And all of this frustrates you, because why is she looking at Amy like that? She's not supposed to like Amy. And why is she treating every girl in the class sweetly except you?

Everytime you catch her looking at Amy, you remember that Quora comment. Admittedly, you've been thinking about it everyday for the past 2 months. When you’re near her, you stutter and avoid looking at her eyes. Because when Elisa looks at your eyes, she can read you. And although you know you're not necessarily hiding anything, you don't want Elisa to know how she affects you.

Elisa rolled her eyes in annoyance when the teacher told her to move to sit next to you. Of course it would be you. Your bubbly and nice personality makes her sick, because right when it comes to her, you become mute. It feels as though her sitting next to you makes you feel grossed out and disgusted. It doesn't help how Sam glances at the both of you everytime Elisa walks past you. It's like you have told her something about her, that elisa is some sick joke you told her about. Growing up, Elisa realized that not many people liked her. But she didn't care, until it was you.

You were kind and sweet to everyone. Whenever anyone asks for help, you're always there. Whenever you have to be surrounded by people you don't even like, you're still respectful and treat them well. But why is it when it comes to her, you ignore her? Every time she's near you, she sees your uncomfortable glance, she’s already used to it by now, but it still breaks her.

Homophobia isn’t something surprising, it’s everywhere. But again, the most non-judgemental person… you, she didn’t expect you to be just like everyone else.

She threw her bag next to your seat as she sighed. Of course she’s already groaning around you. You rolled your eyes at her dramatic reaction, pulling open your notes to write anything you need for the prom. You wrote ‘dress’ check, ‘hair’... you’ll just straighten it, ‘make up’ you’ll ask Sam to help you with it. You glanced at Elisa, a blush ran through your face when you saw the sketch of a woman on her notes. Does she have a date? Did she get asked… or did she ask a girl out? There is no way she’d go with a boy… just the idea of Elisa with a boy makes your stomach churn, and you don’t know why it would feel better if she would be with a girl, a person like you.

“Um… so, do you have a date?” You stammered, trying to act casual about the question, as if it hasn’t been on your mind all month.

She looked away from her sketch to glance at you, “no.”

“Why not?”

Elisa was silent for a moment, “Fleur tore her ACL so she won’t come with me.”

Fleur? Why Fleur? Your kind smile slowly turned to a frown, fuck I know I said it would make me feel better if she would ask a girl out but Fleur? Does she like her? No way.

Elisa noticed the way your smile turned into disgust. At first, panic started to get into her head, would you tell everyone that she wanted her date to be a girl? It’s okay, right? A lot of girls go with their friends? Fleur is her friend. But her panic turned into anger, fuck you and your disgusting beliefs. Of course you wouldn’t like the fact she’s into women, and although she never said she's gay out loud, anyone who glances at her knows about it.

“ACL injuries are really serious, tell her I wish her a speedy recovery.” You mumbled, you didn’t know why you’re acting this way, and why does it happen every time with Elisa. Elisa ignored what you said and continued to draw. You were looking at her sketch from the corner of your eyes, what else would she add? Big boobs? Blonde hair? Is her type in girls the same as the boys’? But suddenly Elisa stopped drawing for a second and took a deep breath, then she scribbled all over the drawing, ripping the page away from her notebook and standing angrily to throw it away in the bin.

When she sat back, she moved her seat slightly away from you. You lowered your head feeling shame, what did you do to deserve this from her? Your heart did the fluttering thing again around her, but now it’s because of the heartbreak of rejection. Elisa kept on tapping the pencil on the paper, writing nothing on her notebook. You glanced at Paul, realizing that he was partnered with Amy. Because of the panic of Elisa sitting next to you, you didn’t even think about Paul. Great, Paul is with the hottest girl in class and Elisa here hates your ass, you already knew Sam would be tired from the phone call this evening.

You glanced at the teacher quickly to make sure she's not looking at you. You grabbed your phone and opened the chats between you and Sam and sent her a message.

“Sam I'm sorry for the monster I'd be when we call today.”

Elisa noticed you using your phone, slightly surprised since you've always been the ‘good’ girl of the class. She saw you texting Sam, quickly diverting her eyes away from your phone. Are you texting Sam about the drawing? Is she seriously that grossed out by a silly drawing? Elisa's frustration has faded, now filled with sorrow. How can someone be filled with that much hatred? How can you sit here and act all cute and innocent to everyone but react this way over a drawing?

Right when the bell rang, Elisa grabbed her bag and left first, not even waiting for Katoto. You breathed out slowly, glad that she's not sitting next to you anymore. The rest of the school day was miserable, feeling all alone. At lunch, you sat on the ‘loner benches’, which are placed behind the school buildings near the football pitch. It's called that because nobody usually notices it, so it's always empty. For once, you were too tired to be friendly and socialize with people you can't stand.

When you were watching the football game, you noticed Elisa playing. Sighing, you got up and walked to the building, deciding to help out the nurse in easy tasks like bandages. She likes you, and had previously written notes to the teachers for you ‘to skip’ their classes. And after what happened in class with Elisa, you really didn't want to face her again.

When you reached the nurse office, you saw Ms. Eugene frantically running around her office to grab things into her giant bag. When she turned to look at you she gasped, “oh thank God! I was about to call the office to bring you,” She grasped your arm, pulling you to sit in her office. “My daughter… she's sick, they called right now. Can you please take over my place? You know we don't have other nurses, and I trust you. You're very smart, y/n. If anyone came here with something more serious than a cut, don't hesitate to call the ambulance.” She rambled, her face filled with stress as she grasped her keys.

“I can stay here, just let the office know so I don't get counted as absent,” You were getting more worried about her daughter the more you looked at her. Ms. Eugene is a single mom of a 3 year old girl, having to carry the responsibilities of both parents as one. She nodded at what you said, and pulled the door open. “I hope everything works out with baby Lee.”

She turned to look at you with grateful eyes, and left you alone. You were stressed about the new ‘job’ you got, but excitement started filling you when you looked around. The posters, the small medications, the tapes and bandages. You can now pretend to be a nurse! You pulled out your phone to text Sam about your new adventure, until a knock made you flinch.

You glanced at the door, yelling out a ‘come in’. When the door opened, you heard Elisa's pained voice, “Nurse Eugene?”

When Elisa glanced at you, she rolled her eyes and limped outside, making sure to shut the door as loud as possible. Usually, you would be hurt at this. But by the way Elisa was limping, you jumped up from the big chair and ran out to see what happened.

“Elisa, are you serious?!” You pulled the door open, finding her limping down the stairs. She looks up to see you and asks, “What are you even doing here? Where is the actual nurse?”

“She had a family emergency,” You followed her down the stairs, “Elisa you're limping! I'm just going to tape you and you will not see my face again.” Your voice cracked as you said the last part. Usually you're good at masking your feelings, but Elisa's pained face in front of you and the way she ran away from you broke you.

Elisa groaned loudly and took a step forward, holding onto the stairs’ railing and following you back into the nurse's office. When she got in the room, she limply sat on the bed. Glancing at the wall in front of her instead of you.

She had heard the neediness from your voice, and it made her heart throb quicker. Even when you clearly feel disgust around her, at least you were worried about her right? Did you do this because you cared about her? Or because you didn't want to get in trouble?

You brought disinfectant wipes, a cotton ball, pre wrap, and a tape. You placed them near her on the bed then turned to look at her to see what actually happened. Elisa lifted her foot up to show that the injury was there, and when you looked down you saw a trail of blood and a cut on her lower shin.

You pointed at the bed as your face scrunched in worry. Awkwardly, Elisa twisted her body towards you and layed down, resting her upper body on her arms behind her. You sat on the bed too, making sure the tapes were near you.

You grabbed the wipes packet, glancing at Elisa to make sure she knows it will be painful. But she was already looking at your face, so you panicked and just placed the wipe directly at the cut.

“Fuck!” She pulled her leg away and threw the wipe away. But you grabbed her foot and pulled it to your lap, using a different wipe and attempting to clean up the cut again. Elisa’s hiss was loud, and it involuntarily made your breath hitch and bite your lip for a second. You had to stop being inappropriate and dirty minded. It's disrespectful, so you tried to ignore it and continued cleaning up the wound. But when her defined and thick calf tensed up, you froze. Of course she will have muscles… She plays football!

“Can you be quick? It's burning me.” Elisa's frustrated groan pulled you out of the daydreams, so you quickly placed your right hand on a piece of cotton there and awkwardly tried to place the pre-wrap over it with your left hand. Elisa saw you struggle so she placed her fingers on yours over the cotton pad.

You quickly removed your fingers from her warm hand, and started wrapping her shin tightly with the pre-wrap. It was easier now to be completely focused on the injury in front of you instead of Elisa’s gaze or warm hand, it was your dream to major in a medical field and you didn’t want to harm Elisa or tape it wrong.

All Elisa was doing while you were taping her shin is look at your face. She was intrigued on how you knew how to do this. For her, she plays football and it’s mandatory for all of the players to know how to tape and deal with certain injuries. But for you, she wasn’t sure on how you knew how to do this… or how you’re good at so many things, you were just perfect in everything in her eyes.

She shook her head at her thoughts and looked at your hands instead, watching you bring the sticky white tape and securing her shin just like the physio at her academy. When you were done, you softly tapped her foot, indicating that she can lift it now. She removes her foot from your thighs and twists her body to sit on the bed instead, forcedly turning her head to look at you with a thankful smile, “you taped it well, thank you.”

You shrugged and looked down at both your feet, dangling them around as you bit your lip in embarrassment, “Thank you, I’ve always wanted to do this in the future so…”

“Be a school nurse?” Elisa asked.

“No, just anything with the medical field.” You replied. Elisa didn’t realize how close you were both sitting next to each other until she accidentally nudged your foot when she started moving her feet like you. She stood up, making sure not to put her weight on her foot, and walked to the door.

“Good luck with that, you’re smart and I think you’ll be able to do it.” You looked up to see her at the door, heart slightly warming at what she said. You smiled gratefully at her and nodded, before mumbling a short, “good luck with football.”

Elisa giggled with a shrug at your comment, and closed the door behind her delicately this time. You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding and hid your face in your hands. Why was it comforting to you that she thinks your hard work will actually get you to your dream major? Did she lie to make you feel better?...Elisa hates lying, you have noticed that because everytime she doesn’t like anything she’d stay quiet…not lie.

But the door was opened shortly, Elisa appearing again with a flustered smile, “I forgot to ask you for a nurse pass.”

You raised your face from your hands and nodded in her direction, standing up from the bed to the desk and writing a note. When you reached ‘time:’ on the notes, you turned to look at Elisa, “Hey Elisa… Do you want to go to class now or walk around the school? I can lie about the time and basically give you free time.”

She looked away from a random poster and turned to look at you with a bright smile, the ones kids do when they get offered candy. “Will you actually do that for me?”

You giggled at her reaction with a nod, she skipped happily and sat on the bed again. She turned to look at you with a grateful smile and pulled out her phone from her pocket, “thank you, I can’t stand the PE teacher or any of the students.”

You hummed in agreement as you sat there awkwardly. Elisa continued scrolling through her screen, while you were just looking at her. “If the teacher asks you why it took you so long you should say that you were dizzy and almost passed out because it is mandatory for nurses to keep students in their office for a minimum of 20 minutes.”

She looks away from her phone to look at you for a second before returning her eyes back, “yeah thanks.”

You didn’t like how she wasn’t really talking to you, even when you knew she didn't like you at all. For a second, it felt like all the tension that was there in the morning had oozed away, but you soon realized that you had to accept that the discomfort Elisa felt toward you will always be the same. As you thought of a topic to talk with her, there was a knock on the door.

You glanced back at elisa to signal for her to hide her phone, before calling out a ‘come in’.

When the door opened, you saw Elisa visibly grimace and you realized that it's Paul the moment he said your name, “y/n! Or should I say Nurse y/n?”

You turned awkwardly to Elisa with a confused look. Nobody knew you were there other than the office, how did he know? Your minutes of peace were frustratingly disturbed now that other students know. Elisa shrugged to show you she didn't know how he knew, but she didn't want to admit that she did text Katoto about you helping her skip.

“Hey Paul, do you need a bandage?” You fake smiled at him. After the whole prom planning that happened, you really didn't want to be around him.

“What? No, I'm just here so you can write me a note to skip class.” He laughed as he sat at the seat near you, grabbing a note from the desk and giving it to you so you could write him one.

“I'm not allowed to do that Paul, you know that.” You looked at him disappointedly and returned the pack of excused notes back to where they were. Paul groaned in frustration. He glanced at Elisa on the bed and pointed at her, “what about her?”

“Elisa is dizzy and has to stay here for a while.”

“Y/n do you seriously believe that! C'mon, I'm your prom date! She fell and bled a little, that's all. I was there. Look! She can stand and walk normally with it taped.” He cried out, pointing at Elisa's taped shin.

“Calm down weirdo,” Elisa calmly said. She didn't like the way he was yelling at you, and she was slightly worried if you couldn't think of an excuse to tell him about how she was dizzy so she tried to waste time.

In fact, Elisa didn't know why you were doing this in the first place. Taping her shin is understandable, but helping her skip class? Memories of first period hit her, and now she doesn't understand you.

Paul turned to look at Elisa after what she said, “weirdo? Did you just call me that?”

“Paul, stop acting childish!” You groaned. “Elisa got dizzy…when girls are in their…you know what, they can feel dizzy. Especially when they lose even more blood.” You mumbled to him as you pointed at her shin. It may not be the smartest excuse, but Paul doesn't know a single thing about women's bodies and you know he's going to feel weird and awkward when anyone mentions ‘periods’.

Paul looked down in embarrassment after what you said, turning to look back at you. “Um…sorry I forgot you guys get that, I'll just leave.” He talked under his breath, before opening the door and leaving you both alone.

Both of you and Elisa exhaled in sync, before turning to each other with a soft smile.

Elisa looked away from you to the door, “he's a dick.”

You sighed as you relaxed into the seat, “Yeah I don't know what else to do with him,”

You looked at your painted nails, avoiding Elisa's glance. You wanted to speak about this with someone, but you didn't like to put your problems into someone even if it was your best friend. “He didn't even…bother to ask me out properly like the movies.”

Elisa noticed the deep frown on your face. She never expected a day where the both of you are sitting down and talking about boys, but it felt slightly better to know that you're opening up now especially after the two months of ignoring and distancing yourself from her. Maybe you weren't as mean as she made you seem in her head, and she liked this vulnerable side of you. “Well… he's a guy, what did you expect from him?”

You let out a scoff, “it just feels like no guy is good enough. We always put the effort in everything, he couldn't even care about what dress I'll wear or flowers or anything.”

Elisa wanted to make a gay joke, but she still didn't trust you enough to joke that way. And considering the way you behaved around her drawing just a few hours ago, she didn't think it would be a good idea. “You're too pretty and smart for him anyways.”

You looked up to glance at her, but she was looking at her taped up shin. Did she mean it? A deep blush ran through your face, and you let out a soft giggle at the thought of her thinking you deserve better than the most handsome guy of your class.

“Yeah? Like who?” You questioned. Maybe Elisa knows someone she can set you up with for the next prom, or maybe she can help you find the love you always yearned for but the boys are too immature and inappropriate…Or maybe she'd say she's the one for you.

Elisa glimpsed at you and stayed quiet with no response for a few seconds. She shrugged, “none of the guys here for sure. Maybe somewhere else.”

Elisa didn't like the attention you just gave her. You turned a compliment into a questionnaire she can't answer. But who is there to blame but herself, she's the one who said you deserve someone better. Elisa loved the small giggle that came out of you. No matter how much she hated your behavior towards her, she always liked making girls realize guys are trash.

You crossed your hands in front of you as you rested your head on them, looking up to Elisa from your seat. She was deep in thought, and you started wondering if she'd ever date a girl in your school. Would she give her flowers every week? Would she receive flowers?... She's still a girl no matter how different she dresses, and she still deserves them. Would she be a physical person like the students that do PDA? Or would she pretend she doesn't know her girlfriend to not gain attention?

Elisa noticed you staring at her weird, the same glance she'd see Katoto has when she looks at Adam. Her ears turned pink and she pulled out her phone to complain to Marie about the ‘Voldemort guy’ interrupting what could've been your first ever sane conversation.

You were probably thinking about Paul, right? Maybe your ‘dream’ man since the both of you were talking about it.

You realized your thoughts were drifting too much, so you closed your eyes tightly and hoped sleep would come and take you somewhere away from Elisa. You shouldn't be thinking about her that way. And you also shouldn't assume her sexuality, like what that Quora response said…even after what she said about guys.

Elisa had noticed you sleeping, so she concluded that your dreamy stare at her was probably sleepiness making you tired. She sat there and scrolled on her Facebook and Instagram.

When she realized that it had been over an hour of her time in the office, she knew she couldn't use that excuse anymore and needed to focus on the other classes. She stood up and approached you, whispering your name.

When she didn't see you react, she knew she had to touch you. But she didn't know how, childishly afraid of tapping your arm. Your fringe had been covering your face, so Elisa lightly moved them away and placed them behind your ears, hoping you wouldn't feel her touch. Elisa always had short hair and she never wanted to grow it out, but she still loved the feeling of hair in her fingers. Fleur gets frustrated whenever Elisa plays with her hair, and Katoto has braids so Elisa was ‘not allowed’ to touch her hair no matter what (she tried one day and Marie yelled at her).

Your eyes scrunched at the feeling of soft fingers on your forehead, and when you opened your eyes you saw Elisa's horrified eyes. You sat up looking confused, worrying about why she looked like she had seen a ghost. “umm… sorry for touching your hair I tried to wake you up but you didn't wake up from my voice.” Elisa rambled quickly, stepping away from you towards the door.

“Wait,” you groaned out, “You're leaving me?”

Elisa smiled at your confused face, slowly speaking so you could understand, “I spent too much time here already, I can't miss more classes.”

She almost laughed at the way your face contorted, something deep in her is warming up and now her whole body is burning. She knows she needs to leave this room before her thoughts start spiraling, so she gave you a small wave and left the office.

Maybe it was the sleepiness talking, but for once, you finally knew that Elisa is a sweet person… and your heart break from the morning today came back, when you realized that what happened today was only a one time thing.

___

~ yes, the next chapter will be prom

~ fun fact, there are some countries in Europe that do prom nowadays. Maybe not back in the 2010s but this is fanfiction so xx

~ did you guys notice something about Paul's looks? yeah y/n has a type ;)

#nel's writings #elisa de almeida #élisa de almeida #woso x reader #nel recommends fanfiction #elisa de almeida x reader #woso #psg feminines #woso community #woso fanfics #woso soccer #womens football #woso one shot #frawnt fanfics #wlw fanfic

[capegloam]

I used to be a close transmasc friend of yours but you have genuinely made me (and others) sick with your fake top surgery tattoos. It's disrespectful, it makes fun of and trivialises a symbol of progress/pride that relates nothing to you. Binding is damaging and painful, you have no idea the pain actually transmasc people go through daily, hourly, by the minute or second to bind. You have no idea the pain of personally growing up transmasc. It's layered and it's complicated and it is Not yours. It will never be yours. You are appropriating our pain. Its disgusting. You are going to lose many friends and make many enemies for this. Hope you have fun faking being transmasc, I see half of Twitter already believes you. I don't want drama with you, or want you to publicly share this or talk to me. I'm just sharing this with you because it has made me sick to my stomach ever since I saw it. And this is an action you need to seriously rethink. You need to publicly come clean on those posts that you are not transmasc. I can tell you've worded it so it's hard for people to tell. You are lucky I haven't publicly made a statement.

woke up today to all of these anons. unsure if they are all the same person but I'm going to treat them as such.

the fact of the matter is, my gender identity is more complicated than "i want to be transmasc". twitter is a horrible place to explain myself because of the character limit, and because i don't like justifying myself to people i don't know. Seeing as i've now been kicked/banned from a specific discord server i used to be in, i know exactly who this is, and i finally feel comfortable explaining myself fully. i know you, i care for you, and we're here on tumblr where i can actually sit down and write a proper essay. Thank you.

i'll break down my responses specifically to what you said, because I want this to be a good conversation.

(under the cut because its long, lol)

"it's disrespectful, it makes fun of and trivializes a symbol of progress/pride that relates nothing to you" — I derive no comedy from the tattoo. I didn't decide I wanted it lightly. saying that it "makes fun of" that symbol is categorically a misinterpretation of my earnest & sincere intent. I wear my heart on my sleeve, always.

saying that my experience "relates nothing" to the transmasc experience is a true statement. I started with a body I should've been comfortable in. The truth is—I was not—I am not comfortable with my body. I don't want a binary body. But my transition experience? was not anything like the transmasc one. I grew out my hair. I bought skirts and dresses. I began collecting earrings, all of them gifts from friends who love me. But when I approached HRT, I realized I wasn't happy with being a woman. I didn't want to get closer to a newer, different binary body. I wanted to be both, trans man and trans woman, simultaneously. I am bigender and nonbinary. to boil me down to "just wants to be transmasc" completely ignores the other half of me that wants breasts, that wants a feminine chest. my next step with my transition is, honestly, purchasing a breast form.

the issue now becomes, why get the tattoo if thats how i feel? if I still want a chest in some form or another?

because, I don't want my bare chest to be a source of dysphoria for that part of me. Remember, at the same time that I want breasts, i also don't want them. at the same time that I want long hair, i want short hair. at the same time I want masculine clothes, i want skirts. I am all of these things and MY PAIN is not being able to be everything combined all at once. It is, frankly, an impossible transition goal.

The scars take my natural chest and they turn it into something new that acknowledges my hypocrisy, that its not just the body of a man, that there is room for more, here. Just because it looks flat doesn't mean thats all it could be, or thats all it was. I want that symbol of transformation because I wish I got to transform. What is more "trans" than wanting to transform?

I will never be transmasc. That just doesn't properly describe my experiences, and it doesn't even fit my feelings about myself. But, at the end of the day, top scars don't belong just to transmasc people, they belong to nonbinary people too. AFAB people who don't seek being gendered one way or the other get top surgery, too. That's the group I feel closest aligned with, (except I want to be gendered both ways, simultaneously, rather than not being gendered at all).

ANYWAYS. thats the deep and thorough explanation of my gender i've been holding back from sharing on twitter. I don't even want to begin to imagine how many tweets long that thread would be LMAO.

back to breaking down your responses, sorry for the tangent. I felt that it was pertinent to illustrate how this tattoo is still a symbol of progress and pride to me, and how I relate to it through my experiences, so you can understand me. I still care about you. you will always be a friend in my mind, so you deserve it.

"Binding is damaging and painful, you have no idea the pain transmasc people go through" — I am well aware of the side effects of binding. They are the reason I didn't pursue HRT to obtain a chest, with binding as a solution for me still wanting a flat chest simultaneously.

That being said, I am living with the consequences of binding. My partner cannot breathe normally, and I constantly feel concern for his wellbeing whenever we need to do something physical (move furniture, walk uphill, etc.) BECAUSE of his history of binding. I know the damage it does.

"You have no idea the pain of growing up transmasc. It is not yours, it will never be yours" — this is true, though I could similarly say that you have no idea the pain of my strange feelings either. Just because we don't experience each other's exact pain doesn't stop us from feeling empathy for each other, for wanting better for each other.

The difference between us is—when I see someone in pain, i want them to do whatever they need to do to relieve that pain. when YOU see someone in pain—with MY pain, my strange pain that you don't understand (that you THINK you understand, but you don't)—your instinct is to use YOUR pain as a justification for hurting others. The fact that you're hurting is an awful one, and I am sorry I can't help you relieve it. But when you see another person happy because they've found a way to relieve some of THEIR OWN pain, it makes you angry. It doesn't make you happy that I found a way to transform my painful, dysphoric relationship with my body into a euphoric one.

as a community, we should rejoice and be happy when other trans people successfully make steps towards defeating their personal struggles with their body. We should be empathetic to each other's experiences. I understand your anger, but its not justified.

"You are going to lose many friends and make many enemies for this" — so far the only friend I've lost is you. all of my irl friends have been supportive, my partners are supportive, my online friends are supportive. Do all of them understand my complicated gender identity? No. I think maybe a lot of them think its a little stupid, honestly. But they're still happy for me. I'm very lucky to have friends who love me. I love them a lot, too, and they know it.

The enemies I've made from this don't know me, and I don't know them. They're not worth my time. You're different—YOU, anon, are worth my time. I know you. I care for you. Long after you have buried me in the ground for being a horrible person (in your eyes), i will still be thinking positively of you. I will still be rooting for you. That will never change.

"I don't want... you to publicly share this" — I'm sorry but you can't control what I do. If you wanted this to be private we should've had a private conversation about it. I was waiting for you to DM me and you never did. I wanted to have this conversation, and this is the place we have to do it, now that you've sent me these anons.

"I can tell you've worded it so its [hard to tell that you're not transmasc]" — This is true. I don't feel like spending 2 hours typing heartfelt responses to people I don't know on x dot com. (Thats how long its been, btw. I've been writing this for 2 hours now. Hopefully that stands for something—to help you understand how much I believe you deserve this explanation. I believe you deserve a lot more than what i've given you.)

I did not obscure my AGAB on purpose. I just think it doesn't matter and is not important enough to disclose. I'm nonbinary and I want a nonbinary body. That should be the end of the story, as far as the greater trans community should be concerned.

"You need to publicly come clean that you aren't transmasc"

quite frankly, its a little uncomfortable for you to assert that I should have to "come clean" about my AGAB. An interest in the genitals of trans people is something transphobes are particularly keen on. I think you should consider the parallels between your arguments and theirs. You still have some internalized transphobia to unpack.

I was there once too. I've already forgiven you.

Anon 2

I feel like I've already addressed your arguments here. I don't care what people who don't know me have to say about me. They don't know me.

You should consider your status as a popular furry artist, anon. Its not unreasonable to assume that people agreed with you purely because of your following. I've received supportive messages from several people I met in your discord server about my tattoo, so I can assure you that not everyone in your circle feels the same way you do.

Anon 3

I'm not lying about being transgender. Nonbinary is a transgender identity. Your interest in my AGAB, asserting that I need to come clean about it, is a transphobic assertion. Attacking a nonbinary person because you feel that they aren't being trans the right way is textbook nonbinaryphobia.

Anon 4 — "My binder made me sick today, i couldn't eat i felt faint and ill" — i'm genuinely sorry to hear that. No one deserves to have to endure that kind of pain for so long. You deserve better. You deserve to look at your body and feel happy. Everyone does.

"I felt sick remembering what you did. That you don't take transmasc pain seriously, or respect us" — I do take your pain seriously, and I respect you as a person. This long thoughtful post is evidence of that.

I understand the disgust you feel at the thought that someone would want to feel the pain you feel. But thats never what I wanted. Thats what you believe I wanted.

The truth is I have my own pain too. my own, personal, complex pain, which i've attempted to explain above. I shouldn't have to be burdened with explaining it to everyone who asks. I don't owe them my soul. I owe my soul to my friends and my partners, and I give it freely when asked by them. You asked. on tumblr dot com, my friend.

If thats not respect, then I don't know what is. Respect is a willingness to meet another person where they're at. I know that when you're hurting its hard to see the hurt you're inflicting onto others. Please trust me when I say I've been there, too. I've hurt. I've hurt others because my pain said that it was justified. I'm healing from it, from the guilt and the shame. I'm finally stopping the cycle of pain and self-hatred within myself. I hope you can get here with me someday, too.

I meant it when I said you'll always be a friend to me. I hope you take my words to heart.

have a nice day, thanks for reading 💛

#transphobia #no editing or peer review we die like men

[livingbrother]

LO and it's portrayal of S/A

A rant by someone who just finished EP. 98 and is incredibly furious

Cw: Mentions of S/A, it's effects, too much swearing, ED mention, personal stuff that happened to yours truly, lots of other stuff too, just no idea what to tag it as

Don't read this if you're not mentally doing well, I don't want you getting hurt because of my post, I love you, feel better soon

Boy. Oh fucking boy. I just got through episode 98 of this shit show and, I'll just say, I am beyond furious. Livid, in fact.

For context, I am a survivor or sexual abuse and mental abuse, I have dealt with those who act sort of like Apollo, I was never raped, but I was molested as a child. I, as a survivor, feel nothing but rage at how Rachel portrayed Apollo being a rapist. The way he acts is incredibly unrealistic for an abuser, as somebody who dealt with two abusers with Narcissistic Personality Disorder (I'm not saying everyone who has NPD are villains, I'm just saying what I went through), I see what Rachel was trying, but oh so tragically failed, to do. He tried to control, manipulate, and gaslight Persephone. Only for none of it to work, that's not how ANY of it fucking works!

Where is the fucking control, other than just fucking raping her? I get he wants to take the power away from her and be the one to control her, but I've seen none of that! I get she has PTSD over it (I'LL GET TO THIS POINT AGAIN). I NEVER GOT THE SENSE THAT SHE WAS POWERLESS EXCEPT FOR THAT ONE SCENE. I HAVE NEVER SEEN HER QUESTION IF THAT WAS HIS INFLUENCE PICKING HER DRESSES, OR FUCKING EVEN HER FOOD! WHEN I WAS LIVING WITH ONE OF MY ABUSERS, SHE'D PICK OUT MY OUTFITS, ONE'S I HATED, AND I STILL CHOOSE SOME OF THOSE OUTFITS, TO THIS DAY! WHERE WAS HER LOSS OF CONTROL? SHE NEVER FELT ISOLATED, SHE NEVER FELT LIKE SHE WAS TRAPPED. YES. SHE WAS TRAPPED IN THAT ONE ROOM WITH HIM, BUT EVEN THEN! SHE HAD LEVERAGE OVER HIM WITH THE FUCKING LYRE. Ugh.

About her realizing she was raped, um. Excuse me? A lot of victims don't realize they were raped or abused until like, months or years later. I'm glad for the ones who instantly realized it, good for them. Given Persephone's personality and experience with the world, she wouldn't have known it was rape because she's not accustomed to dating and sexual culture. On top of that, she isn't really seen actually distressed when she remembers, oh, and lets not forget that she WAS FUCKING FINE WITH TOUCH AND PHYSICAL FLIRTING DAYS AFTER HER ASSAULT. Let me remind you that I have been through this thing myself, you do not just omg I was just assaulted! time to go let someone touch me! Nonono, you spend years jumping when people touch you, years of moving when someone tries to grab your shoulder, years of pushing someone's hand off your arm, years screaming when you get a hug. And then, maybe from flashbacks, maybe from googling things, you discover you were molested! And then it alllllll makes sense. I understand if she became hypersexual, cause same, but that usually doesn't set in until a good long while.

I also hate how Apollo is written, he should have stayed as a shitty ex boyfriend or whatever the fuck Rachel was gonna make him, he just comes across as a cartoonish villain than an abuser. The man just fucking rubs his hands together and fucking goes I'll get you next time my pretty! I fucking HATE his writing so goddamn much. I understand wanting to make him pushy, egotistical, and insecure, they're some of the hallmarks of the pushy nice guy she was going for. But when it comes to him being abusive, it's like watching a bad joke. Rapists don't usually, you know, CATCH FEELINGS FOR THEIR VICTIM (correct me if I'm wrong), unless it's to lure them back in to hurt them again. She made him so obviously evil it hurts, abusers don't usually act that way, they put on a pretty smile, act kind, and behind closed doors, act shitty. I respect 97-98 for getting that part right, but too many times, too many fucking times Rachel has gotten that wrong. I have dealt with this myself, my mother did this exact thing, she even put on the pretty smile for me so even I, somebody who knew he was being tormented, questioned whether or not I was being abused! We never see this with Persephone! We never see her getting gaslit with this, she never questions her reality! She knows everything that's going on for sure! I know what Rachel was aiming for, and she failed miserably!

God, on top of this, we never really get to see Persephone's PTSD unless the story fuckin says Apollo's here! She's never really fucking affected by her rape, we don't see her jump from touches, refuse sexual advanced from Hades, yeah, sure, we see her afraid of camera flashes, but that's about it!!!!!!!! She never really experiences the effects of s/a! I developed an ED and agoraphobia from my abuse! Where the fuck is that?! That would have been a lot more fucking interesting than the slop we fucking got!

I know I've missed some things, but I need to calm down before I pop a blood vessel. I might revisit this post when I'm less angry, I just needed to rant.

#lo critical #anti lore olympus #anti lo #rant post #rant #cw s/a #cw: ed #huge ass content warning

[omarera]

So so proud of Omar. I am so happy he is let in to new types of media. SvD and DN are the biggest national morning news papers in Sweden. He has been in evening papers and might be silly but I am glad he is covered in these papers. And now also Hellenius Hörna and Så mycket bättre. Thank You TV4. Now let’s hope national radio stations let his music in as well.

Here are some bits of the interview in SvD. It resembles his Sommarprat and nothing new for us really but a really nice interview with a nice tone in it and it will reach many households in Sweden that still has morning papers…

He talks about where he was a few years ago from the interview and I think it’s beautiful that he opens up about feeling lost, experimenting and on his journey to get to know himself and feel confident being who he is and that he also dares to vocalize his dreams. Remember that Jantelagen is strong in Sweden and vocalizing such big dreams is not usual. His journey continues!! I so want for him to reach his goals❤️

They start off with his FO&O and talk a out his bringing and his mom and dad and moving to Sweden.

One thing he hasn’t touched so much on before is how being known so young affected him:

“It was the sickest thing I've ever been through. It was both a kick and very scary to break through, especially when you were alone in town or going home on the bus. I was up in Stockholm and felt very watched. It was an emotional rollercoaster.”

He takes a deep breath.

“Every single person my age has known about me since I was 14 years old. It has been very intense and probably affected me in different ways. I've probably become more shy and stick mostly to my friends that I've had for many years.”

(We know he always pick stay home and that he is very close to his friends and has a circle of friends he feels safe with. And then about after FO&O)

“I released a few singles, but then the pandemic came and everything was put on hold. That's when it started.

Omar Rudberg puts one hand in his baggy leather jacket pocket and looks out through the Connection Hall in the Slaughterhouse area, where we met on a cool autumn afternoon.

“I was incredibly lost. Both in my professional role and in myself. I had no idea who I was or what I was going to be, what I liked and didn't like.

He set out on an experimental journey.

- I tried to find myself and started hanging out very intensively with friends. We hung out every day and became almost like a collective. It was incredibly fun and above all nice to see people who were in different ways.”

(I also liked this part where he talks about his creativity: )

“In the new homeland, the song and dance continued to be palpable, as did Omar's wild imagination. By the age of eight, it was so intense that his parents took him to a child psychologist.

- What they reacted to was that I didn't need toys. I could just enter another world, be chased by dinosaurs or have the worst action movie in my head. But I wasn't crazy, the child psychologist noted, just a child.

The creativity and musical gift can be traced to the grandmother and the mother. Early on, the latter ensured that Omar participated in talent competitions, often with success.

(And then more in creativity and using it to find yourself)

- My friends and I started trying different types of clothes. We played music and got dressed up. Some tried to put on makeup and nail polish. I really experimented. Those who are not in the know immediately think that a guy who wears make-up is gay or transgender - that bothers me. Make-up should not have to have an orientation, it should be for everyone. Now I wear black eyeliner when I feel like it without being ashamed.

Playing with the outside became a way to find home more in one's inner self, and the fact that Omar was named Best Dressed Man of the Year by the magazine Café this spring is something of a receipt for that.

- I have realized that I have to feel comfortable, stable and free with who I am if I am to be able to move forward in life. Clothes clearly play a role in that. They can also help me get into a certain character more easily.

(There is more text in YR and Karusell but he gets back to: )

“Although it is as an actor Omar has become known in recent years, it is the music he wants to focus on the most in the future. A few days ago, the new single Off my mind was released and tonight is the premiere of this year's So much better on TV4, where Omar is one of the participants.

Perhaps the participation will also be revenge for Omar as a solo artist.

- Yes, I hope people are reminded that I'm actually a singer at heart, it's music that I love the most. I'm looking forward to releasing an album eventually and especially to playing live.

A decade has passed since Omar Rudberg first broke through, when I ask what he thinks life will look like in another ten years, he first laughs at the thought of being 35. Then comes the answer:

- I want to have done the sickest gigs, have had several hits and be out on a world tour. I want to be in a Latin American TV series or movie and for my own company to be worth an incredible amount of money. I will not buy a Lamborghini, but a nice apartment for my mother so that she can be free as a bird. I want to give back everything I got from her.

He runs his hand through his slightly wavy hair and walks over to the mirror to get ready for the photo shoot.

- I would never have dared to have it this way a few years ago. Thankfully, I am much more confident in myself now.

You're not as lost anymore?

- No, I have grown a lot in recent years and now I feel stable enough to take myself forward in life. But I'm probably not quite there yet, the journey continues …

Translated bits from: Elin Liljero Eriksson - 23 oktober 2023 SvD Magazine.

#omar rudberg #SvD

[buzzkillchainsaw]

HI HELLO OH MY GOODNESS HOW DO I PUT THIS

I literally just randomly stumbled across your comic with pearl and tetra and decided to give it a quick read, but then it really hooked me in, like REALLY hooked me in! It was the first one of your works I've seen so I didn't have any prior context, but the story it had even standing alone was just.. AGHHH I have no words it genuinely just struck my heart and soul! And then I decided to check out your blog and saw that you had more writings for WoF and that's when i saw the whole arc you wrote I decided to give it a quick read as well! i personally find it difficult to get into original wof stories cause I tend to gravitate towards one's involving canon characters (genuinely, nothing against OC stories! i find them so cool and want to read more of them, they're just a bit harder for me to get into), but remember when I said I'd give the arc a quick read? that quick read turned into reading the entire thing in one entire sitting because I actually get so attached to the characters and story and setting and EVERYTHING??? it all felt so genuine! like I was being taken on an entire journey with them!!! like, i actually cannot overstate just how amazing it has been to read it all!!! idk how to describe it but whenever I come across a story that I'm able to feel so connected and invested to, my heart starts to smile and my heart is smiling so much rn!!! Like, all of that and it was a DRAFT??? Ice, datura, pearl, tetra, no-one, and sidewinder's stories just felt so genuine I actually can't say it enough and I don't use the word genuinely lightly

it's really late where I am so I'll stop here before I probably write 50 more paragraphs, so I'll just say once more that I'm glad I stumbled upon your blog, and really, thank you! The genuine love you have for what you do is seen in the art you make, and I hope that, whatever you choose to do in the future (art or not!), it's something that brings you genuine love and fulfillment! AGHHH FR READING THROUGH THE ENTIRE ARC AND COMIC WAS AN EXPERIENCE YOU ARE AN AMAZING ARTIST THANK U AGAIN AND GOODNIGHT

I've been opening and closing this ask all day bc I don't think I can formulate a response fit for your genuinely kind words :')

I'm so happy you enjoyed my stuff & hopefully it continues to bring you joy for a long time! I also never expected so much positive feedback on my little "book arc" from so many different people, so I just wanna say thank you and everyone else who read through the entire thing, it really means a lot! I wish you the best life :)

#ask #buzzkill wof arc

[foreveralwaysanauthor]

Melaka Mystica (Part 3/3)

January 18, 2024

Notes - I wanted so badly for this to be finished for Mles' birthday on the 14th, but alas, it was only finished today, and although I'm so incredibly grateful that this story is now officially finished, I still sort of wish it had been done on time. Anyway, I believe this may actually be the longest individual chapter I've ever written - coming in at the halfway mark on the 59th page. I'm immensely proud of all that went into this project and, although this may wrap everything up, I can't wait to start something new! I know I should take a break - and I promise I will - but I'm excited to work on some shorter projects for the time being. I just have far too many ideas to not take the time to work on some of them 😂 Now, without further ado, here is the insanely long final chapter that I've been working on for what feels like forever!

We are out of time.

As soon as the door closed behind Royce, the talking began. However, as soon as the sixteen-year-old uttered, “She’s definitely possessed,” Mick found herself sitting on the center cushion of the window seat, contemplating everything that had transpired. Two weeks ago, she had been possessed by ancient dark magic, and if Serena’s possession was anything like her own, they would need something big to take care of it. The only thing was, she had no idea how they would fix things for her.

When it happened to Mick, they had the help of her ancestors due to lighting the black flame candle, but now they didn’t have that wisdom. They didn’t have help, they didn’t have old, magical wisdom, and they certainly didn’t have an emerald candle. All they had was a book full of ancient recipes with no definite ingredients to make a candle and a spell book that would be rendered useless without said candle. After her possession on Halloween, Mick had gone through nearly all of the books in the basement library, hoping to find a recipe for the candle that cured her in order to rid herself of her headaches and the leftover side effects of the dark magic that had holed itself within her skin. However, to her dismay, there was nothing apart from an old book with a half-torn recipe. While Mick had been quite upset at the time, she had eventually gotten over it and forced herself to power through, but the lack of a finished recipe also meant they had no way to drain the dark magic from Serena.

With all the salt in the house used up for protection, they had no way of trapping her. And, if the ease with which she shattered the crystal was anything to go by, she was a force to be reckoned with. Had Mick been that bad when she was possessed? To be honest, most days, she couldn’t remember most of all that happened. There were bits and pieces of clarity - fragments of memories that haunted her most at night - but they were fleeting at best. More often than not, all she could recall was pacing in the woods, flying above the town commons, and the faintest moment of lucidity fueled by pride when Bentley threw salt at her possessed form. She couldn’t have been prouder of his quick thinking than she was in that fleeting memory.

There were other times when she could recall the entire night. Though she knew everyone involved knew all too well what had gone down and had filled her in on most of it, she only truly dealt with the full force of her memories at night. She wasn’t entirely sure whether it was due to her repressing the memories of that night or the fact that most of the events happened at night. All she knew was that it was damn near impossible to sleep when everything came flooding in all at once. Worst, by far, were the memories of being trapped inside her own skin. Like the opposite of an out-of-body experience, she was forced to watch herself move with no control, watching herself actively try to hurt those she loved most. Looking around at those before her, she wondered how on earth she had managed not to hurt any of them. At least not physically, that is.

Mouths moved, but no sound came from them as Mick looked around the living room of the Murphy residence. She was almost sure they were talking, but she couldn’t hear anything over the static-filled buzzing in her ears. Since her possession only weeks before, she had dealt with tinnitus and felt as though her head would explode if she moved too quickly. However, this was not her typical tinnitus. This sound was far from the high-pitched ringing that filled one ear and prevented her from thinking straight until its eventual dissipation. She felt like she was sitting in front of an old television set without an antenna while her ears were stuffed with cotton. While she could still register those around her talking, she couldn’t determine what was being said.

Were they discussing how to handle Serena? If they were, Mick was sure the conversation was going nowhere. She had already come to the conclusion that they had little, if anything, to work with. They had a plethora of books in the shop basement that would be of little help, crystals that only worked for a small amount of time if the shards of onyx in the Murphy’s trash bin were anything to go by, and the power of friendship which, unless they were from the same universe as My Little Pony, would do them no good. They were up against a seemingly undefeatable, ancient magic, and the only three that had magic at all were a group of teenagers who only received their abilities two weeks prior. Their chances of winning were slim to none, but she highly doubted the others had come to that conclusion yet. 

Mick watched Miles pinch the bridge of his nose as Vivien offered something, and the oldest of the Murphy brothers muttered something Mick couldn’t make out as Bentley rolled his eyes with an inaudible huff. Looking around in confusion, Mick allowed her eyes to slide shut before slowly taking a breath and willing her hearing to return. Once she could make out the frustrated tones of their voices, Mick opened her eyes and forced herself to stand from the window seat. She listened for a while to the jumbled voices that tangled into an unintelligible mess before Vivien’s voice cut through, “Why don’t we just use the emerald candle again? It worked on Mick.”

“We can’t,” Mick spoke as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest.

As though the energy in the room had died, Mick felt the eyes of the others on her as Bentley asked, “Why not?”

Taking a slow breath, Mick admitted, “The candle we used on me was the last one.”

“Maybe, if we find the book, we can make more,” Carrie suggested.

With a definite shake of her head, Mick said, “It’s pointless. I looked for the recipe after everything went down, but the page is ripped. There’s no way to make a new candle. We’ll have to find a different way to drain the magic from Serena.”

“Is there even another way to do it?” Vivien wondered.

While the others murmured their agreement, Royce’s eyes began to gleam as a fresh idea blossomed in his mind. “There might be.”

Noting the look in his brother’s eyes, Miles asked, “What do you have, RJ?”

Taking a few steps back toward the stairs, Royce smiled and said, “Just hang on a sec.”

As Royce bounded up the staircase, Bentley turned to the other living room occupants and asked, “Is anybody else confused or is it just me?”

“It’s definitely not just you,” Carrie sighed, glancing at the top of the staircase with a raised brow before smiling back at Bentley.

“It’s probably something in one of those books he’s gotten recently,” Miles mused with a shrug.

“Books?” Mick asked.

Miles nodded, “He’s been using some of the money he’s saved to buy books on magic and supernatural abilities. When he’s not getting caught reading at two in the morning by Mom, he’s spouting off things he’s discovered.”

“So that’s why he’s been looking so tired lately,” Vivien breathed thoughtfully. It made sense why he was suddenly on the verge of collapsing in class or falling asleep despite the noise of the cafeteria. Despite his insistence that all was well, she felt as though it was very unlike him - normal for Bentley or Miles, sure, but never for Royce. It made sense that the reasoning behind his uncharacteristic fatigue was his late-night reading sessions. 

Miles nodded in confirmation, but before he could say anything, Royce’s hurried footsteps could be heard, and everyone turned their attention to the stairs as Royce descended them two at a time, a thick book grasped tightly in one hand while the other held the railing. Jumping the last few steps, Royce quickly flipped open the book and made his way to his friends, flicking a few pages until he found what he was looking for. Beaming proudly, Royce’s gaze flickered between those present as he explained, “I borrowed this from the library last week for a bit of light reading.”

“Light?” Bentley scoffed. “That thing could have been used as a cannonball.”

Rolling his eyes, Royce brushed off Bentley’s claim and turned the book toward them as he continued, “It’s all about how people believe covens worked throughout history. While it talks about the hivemind kind of communication stuff like what Carrie found earlier, it also talks about coven draining. It says that coven members could drain a witch of their powers if they tried to learn dark magic or got possessed by it.”

“Do you really think something like that could work if Serena isn’t a part of our coven?” Vivien asked. 

“There’s no telling,” Royce said as he shifted the book back toward himself. “It only says that covens could do it, but it’s worth a shot, right?”

Cutting in, Miles shook his head, “And if it doesn’t work, that would put all three of you in danger. We’re not risking your lives for a theory.”

“But if it works, then we could save Serena and go back to normal,” Vivien argued.

“And if it doesn’t, you could die,” Mick interrupted.

Despite Vivien’s evident eye roll, Carrie was the one to speak next, “We can find another way.”

Before things could escalate, Bentley stepped up and asked, “Why don’t we just ask Mom if she knows anything about it?” With everyone’s attention on him, he said, “Think about it; she’s a witch and has been since before any of us were even born. If anyone knows anything about coven stuff, wouldn’t it be her?”

Silence permeated for a moment until Miles spoke, “He’s not wrong.”

“I’m smart when I want to be,” Bentley claimed before turning on his heel and heading for the kitchen. 

Not wanting to be left behind while Bentley discussed matters with Dorothea, the others quickly trailed behind, Royce holding the book’s pages in place to ensure he had the right information for the woman. Looking up from her embroidery hoop with a smile as the children entered the kitchen, Dorothea paused the music playing from her cell phone and asked, “How did things go with your friend?”

“That’s actually what we were hoping to talk with you about,” Mick stated.

Leaning against the wall, Vivien stated, “She’s possessed by dark magic and we need advice on how to fix things.”

Folding her hands together on the table, Dorothea said, “Well, the easiest way to stop a possession would be with an exorcism, but where this has magical ties and we don’t have any legitimate shamans in the area, I would say your best bet would be to try an emerald flame candle, if you can find one.”

“You don’t have the recipe?” Miles asked.

With a heavy sigh, Dorothea shook her head, “No, that was one thing I never learned.”

Stepping up to the table with his borrowed book, Royce set the hardcover down on the table and pointed to the pages as he asked, “What about coven draining? Would that work even though Serena’s not in our coven?”

Without so much as looking at the pages before her, Dorothea answered, “There are many ways that it would work, but I have some concerns.”

“Like what?” Carrie asked.

Glancing around at the children before her, the woman replied, “You see, many years ago, I was asked by one of my old coven mates to perform the ritual and it was extremely difficult.” 

“Would salt help?” Bentley asked, digging into the pocket of his jeans for a packet he had taken home from school. 

With a chuckle and a fond smile, Dorothea shook her head, “It would dampen the powers of the one being drained, but in this case, no. My friend had sworn off magic and, despite still being one of my closest friends, the process was excruciating on everyone involved. He was in pain for months afterward and I couldn’t be near him without crying. While Serena isn’t in your coven, she is still someone you personally share a bond with in some way. In my opinion, it would be exceedingly difficult for you three to even handle being in school with her after the fact.”

Disappointment was evident on everyone’s faces as Royce gathered the book again and sighed, “I guess we’ll just have to figure out another way, then.”

While the children moved to leave the kitchen, Dorothea stood and spoke, “There are other ways to drain or exchange powers.”

Turning back toward the woman, Vivien asked, “Like what?”

Holding up a finger, Dorothea silently asked them to wait as she stepped over to the pantry. Pulling a book from inside her hidden cabinet, Dorothea made her way back to the kitchen and opened the book, finding the right page as she explained, “There is a way for witches to send their powers into empty vessels.”

“Empty vessels?” Miles repeated. “Like what; a jar?”

“Not quite,” Dorothea said with a shake of her head. “In this case, an empty vessel would be a person without magic as it will give the person performing it some powers of their own as they drain the magic from the witches. The incantation would have to be read by the person without magic and, to anyone watching who isn’t involved, it would look the same as a coven draining.”

“That could work,” Mick muttered, earning nods from Carrie and Bentley.

“We could use that,” Miles agreed. “If we transferred the magic to ourselves, we could drain Serena and then give the magic back after it’s over.”

Turning to his mother, Royce asked, “Can we write down the incantation?”

With a stiff nod, Dorothea laid the book on the table and watched as Royce pulled a pen from his pocket and scribbled out the information on a napkin. As Royce wrote, Vivien’s gaze landed on Dorothea. It seemed too good to be true. If this whole idea of giving their magic to someone else to protect themselves was an option, why hadn’t it been offered to them when Mick was possessed? Though she wanted nothing more than to trust Mrs Murphy with everything she had, Vivien couldn’t help but feel skeptical. For once, she wished she had Bentley’s unyielding optimism. The smile on his face was enough to tell Vivien that he hadn’t even given his mother’s offer a second thought.

Royce finished writing far quicker than Vivien would have liked, but as she held an arm out to stop him from going any further, she crossed her arms and met Mrs Murphy’s eyes as she asked, “What’s the catch?” 

“Catch?” the woman wondered.

Despite Mick’s hand on her shoulder silently asking her to stop before she could begin running her mouth, Vivien spoke, “There has to be something you aren’t telling us about this.”

Taking a deep breath as she sat back down at the table, Dorothea explained, “There are only certain times when magical beings can give up their powers. Special moments. Tonight isn’t just any night, after all.”

A pause of silence filled the room before Royce recalled, “Tonight’s the lunar eclipse.” 

“Exactly,” Dorothea nodded. “The full moon is one thing - a sign of new beginnings - but an eclipse is something else entirely. It is something very special. During an eclipse, the transfer is most powerful.”

“Powerful how?” Carrie pressed.

Dorothea closed the book she had brought out and tucked it under her arms as she folded her hands atop its surface, “Though it would be the safest option and would allow you to go about life normally, the power of the eclipse could make the transfer permanent.”

“Permanent?” Miles breathed, shock lining his voice as his eyes widened.

Bentley’s golden hair flowed like a halo of fluffy waves as he quickly shook his head, “No way! We haven’t gone through everything we have just to throw it all away.”

Dorothea held up a hand to placate the children before her as she spoke, “I understand, but without your magic, you’re of no use to whatever is possessing Serena, are you?”

Silence hung in the air like a weighted blanket - heavy and immovable. While the woman’s words were undeniably true, none of them knew quite how to respond. Bentley’s steel-toned eyes glanced between Royce and Vivien, wondering how they were so quiet. Did they have no concerns to voice, or were they overthinking as they always did? Taking Vivien’s hand in his, Bentley watched as her emerald eyes found his, and a silent question fell between them - were they truly willing to give up their magic so easily? When Vivien’s eyebrows knitted together, and she forced herself to turn away, Bentley knew he had his answer. Vivien turned to Royce and took his hand, following the same process with him. By the time Royce had found Bentley’s gaze, he knew they had all come to the same conclusion.

In a voice too quiet to be her own, Vivien muttered, “She’s right.”

Despite her surprise at how easily the normally fiery Vivien stepped down, Carrie looked ready to fight as she asked, “What?”

Royce shrugged as he finally looked up, the golden glow in his caramel eyes now dull as he defeatedly admitted, “We don’t really have a choice.”

Before any of the older children could argue, Dorothea spoke from her seat at the table, “I wouldn’t have suggested it on any other night, and although I feel it should only be used as a last resort, it might be your only chance.”

“We’ll have to try the coven thing first,” Bentley spoke, determination fuelling his tone as he turned back toward the others. “If that doesn’t work and she gets to be too much for us, we’ll back down and give up our powers.”

Taking a sharp breath, Mick drew the attention of those present as she admitted, “After everything that’s happened, I don’t know if I could handle that.”

“You could,” Vivien spoke confidently, offering the older girl a small smile. “You’re one of the strongest people I know.”

With a hum of confirmation, Royce said, “Even if it comes down to us having to give up our magic, you won’t be alone in it.”

Bentley nodded, “You’ll have all of us to support you.”

“We’re in this together,” Vivien added, patting the older girl on the arm. “Now, come on. We’ve got a demon to chase.”

Dead leaves crunched underfoot, and Carrie’s teeth chattered as another icy November wind sent a chill down her spine. Why couldn’t they have just left her in the car? She understood that Mick wanted to check the woods on foot, but the car’s headlights were a hell of a lot brighter than the flimsy flashlights on their cell phones. She could have at least followed them along the treeline with the car, shining the lights into the woods as best as she could. It made no sense for them to wander aimlessly through the woods with what little lighting they had, but then again, she understood where they were coming from. 

Seeing as Mick had been possessed recently, she would know better than any of them where to look. Her first instinct led them straight toward the woods where the kids had always done their Halloween ritual, and although Carrie could sense the thick layer of unease in the air, she knew as well as they all did that Mick was only doing what she felt was right. Mick had told her time and time again about how often the fleeting memories of the woods would come to mind. Maybe it was something to do with the magic being nearly as old as Salem itself and not knowing how to handle the noisy city it now inhabited. Carrie couldn’t be sure, but if Mick felt relatively confident, the blonde wasn’t about to argue with her.

Glancing toward where the kids were huddled together, their flashlights forming a unified beacon as they talked quietly amongst themselves, Carrie wondered what was going on in their heads. Were they worried or upset with the idea that Serena’s possessed body could be lurking in the canopy of the woods they felt at home in? Were they worried about the idea of sacrificing their magic to save a girl they could just barely consider a friend? Had they even considered the idea of being normal humans again? Or were they more focused on getting things taken care of so they could return to their normal lives? Carrie had given it much thought, and from the look on his face, so had Miles. Though she couldn’t tell what was going through Mick’s head as she walked ahead of them in a sort of daze, Carrie had a feeling that the younger brunette was just as worried about the concept of the kids losing their magic as she and Miles were. 

It was only natural for them to worry, Carrie supposed. Mick had been the only older sister type of figure in Vivien’s life since the girl was tiny, and Miles’ younger brothers were practically attached to his hips when they weren’t busy with school. They were older siblings in their own rights, and despite Carrie only having been close to the kids since she had begun working at Coven’s Cottage, she was just as worried for them. However, it didn’t seem as though the children were nearly as worried as they were.

They were relatively quiet - and had been for quite some time - but Carrie could see the faintest hint of a smile on Royce’s face as Vivien elbowed him in the arm, and Bentley let out a snort of laughter. Carrie grinned; they were cute together, whether they knew it or not. The only thing missing was their trusty sidekick, Kona. The little Hawaiian had grown increasingly close to them since her family moved to Salem when Kona and Bentley were entering fourth grade. It was only natural, seeing as how Bentley was her tour guide at school, and they were practically inseparable during the first few months of school. Nowadays, it was unusual to see the trio without the blonde, but after all that had happened in the last two weeks, the sight was becoming more common than anyone would have cared to admit.

Carrie took in a breath and focused her attention back on the treeline, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. Grateful she had invested in a pair of fuzzy earmuffs and a packet of reheating hand warmers, Carrie pried her now warmed hand from her pocket and switched her phone into it before tucking her empty hand into her pocket. Oh, how she hated the cold! Though she was grateful to have stuck around Salem after graduating high school as, otherwise, she wouldn’t have grown close to Miles and his close-knit group of friends and family, a part of her wished they had met somewhere a bit warmer. Though she highly doubted she would be able to convince him to move somewhere warmer as he was a family man through and through, she hoped at least a few of their future winter vacations could be spent in one of the warmer states. Somewhere far from the snow and ice and whipping winds - Florida or California, perhaps? She’d heard stories of the luxurious beaches and seemingly endless summers, and, boy, did that sound good right about now!

As another wind stirred leaves into the air and blew a chill throughout the group, Carrie shivered and turned to Miles as she asked, “Do you see anything?”

With a sigh and a shake of his head, Miles asked, “No, do you?”

“I wish,” Carrie huffed. “Do you think Serena’s even here?”

“I don’t know,” Miles muttered, “but Mick seems pretty sure this is where it brought her, and if she’s right, Serena could be where the kids do their ritual.”

Carrie slowly nodded to herself before asking, “Do you know how to get there?”

Again, Miles shook his head, “I haven’t had to walk them out there in years. I think it’s marked off by fallen tree limbs, but I could be wrong.”

Carrie hummed thoughtfully, glancing back toward the trees they had already bypassed before shrugging. The important thing was that the kids knew how to get there. So long as they were reliable tour guides, she had nothing to worry about. Not much further down the edge of the woods, the kids stopped, turning back toward their older companions with matching expressions. However, of the three, it was Bentley who chose to speak first, “The path starts just up here and it doesn’t take long to get to the spot.”

“You guys should probably stay a good distance behind us just to be safe,” Royce recommended. 

Before anyone could argue, Vivien dug into her jacket pocket and pulled out a handful of assorted crystals as she spoke, “I took these from the store earlier and I think we should probably divide them up now in case she’s in there.”

“What did you bring?” Mick questioned, tucking her hands into her coat pockets as Vivien stepped forward. 

“For you guys, I brought malachite to repel toxic energy,” the young brunette explained as she began handing out portions of the swirled green crystal. “For all of us, I have small pieces of smithsonite that will help to ground us all and will hopefully make it easier for us to make tough decisions. Then, for just the three of us, I have some shards of white moonstone to help us harness the power of the moon and stars.”

“Do you think they’ll help?” Carrie asked as she examined the two stones in her palm.

“You never know,” Royce said with a small shrug.

“It’s better to have it and not end up needing it than to need it and not have it,” Vivien explained simply. 

“You’re nothing if not over-prepared,” Bentley teased, grinning cheekily at Vivien, who merely rolled her eyes in return.

“Call me paranoid all you want,” she resigned, “but if we’re going up against a demon without the help of some ancient witches, I want to make sure I’ve covered every possible base.”

“It’s smart,” Mick mused, gaining a grateful smile from the young brunette.

“Thanks,” Vivien said. 

With a fond smile, Royce tore his gaze away from Vivien and cleared his throat before saying, “We know the pathway like the back of our hands, so all you guys will have to do is follow us.”

“If she’s there, there’s a fallen tree you guys can hide behind,” Bentley stated. 

“Are you three sure this is what you want to do?” Miles pressed. 

“What other choice do we have?” Vivien replied rhetorically. “The sooner we find her and end this, the better off we’ll all be.”

With a hum of agreement from Royce and a quick nod from Bentley, the trio allowed the children to lead the way, their flashlights turning off as the moon guided them along the path. Despite the darkness of the forest, they maneuvered through the leaf-covered ground with practiced ease. Royce led the way over a fallen tree, waiting for Vivien and Bentley to join him on the other side before continuing onward. Turning toward his friends, Royce lowered his voice before asking, “Do you think we have a chance of ending this?”

“One way or another,” Bentley sighed softly.

“If it comes down to it, are you ready to give up our powers?” Royce asked.

“What other choice do we have?” Vivien asked in reply. “Without a candle and the help of other witches, we’re sorta out of options.”

Royce sucked in a breath and sighed, “Just as I was getting used to it.”

“Try to stay positive,” Bentley offered as he stepped over a small log. “We might not need to give them up.”

“And if we do?” Vivien wondered aloud.

Stepping between his brother and their longtime best friend, Bentley slid his hands into theirs and smiled, saying, “Then we’ll do it together like we always do.”

Vivien took in Bentley’s smile and offered a strained one in return while Royce peered over Bentley’s head at her, sending her a worried look that she dismissed with an encouraging smile. How she could be so calm about the matter, he would never know, but once Bentley’s glimmering, hope-filled eyes fell on him, Royce couldn’t help the grin that tugged at his lips, determined to make sure Bentley couldn’t see just how much the thought of losing their magic was affecting him. For the most part, the rest of their trip into the woods was silent, but Bentley’s soft humming made the mood feel at least minutely calmer.

All thought of conversation left them as they approached their ritual spot, tucking themselves behind the thick trunk of a fallen tree. In the clearing where their black flame candle had once burned, bringing them magic on Vivien’s sixteenth birthday, was Serena. Despite there being a few feet of space between the redhead and the mossy ground, she was sitting cross-legged, her hair floating in midair as her mouth moved wordlessly. Was she talking to herself? As the others silently joined them, Vivien took Bentley and Royce’s hands and muttered a quick silencing charm that the boys soon repeated. 

Once the charm had fallen around them, effectively preventing Serena from hearing them, Vivien said, “We should be fine now.”

Peering over the top of the fallen tree, Mick mused, “This feels familiar.”

“How so?” Carrie asked.

“I wandered in the woods a lot when I was possessed,” Mick explained as she moved to sit on the leaf-covered grass. “I don’t remember levitating at all, but there’s a lot from that night that I don’t remember, so…”

“How are you holding up?” Miles asked. “I know it can’t be easy.”

The older brunette shrugged with a heavy sigh, “It feels as though my head’s about to explode, but I’m managing.”

“Will you be okay?” Bentley asked.

“I’ll be fine,” Mick brushed off with a small smile. “Now, what’s the plan?”

Vivien and Bentley turned their attention to Royce, the only one in their group who actually liked to devise plans without blindly running into things. Swallowing thickly, Royce spared a glance over the tree before speaking, “I think, if we attack from different angles, we’ll have the element of surprise.”

Nodding in understanding, Vivien said, “You and I could go on either side of her while Bentley stays close to the tree. That way, these guys can keep him safe if anything happens and we can distract her if we have to.”

“That would probably be the best,” Royce agreed.

Despite wanting to prove that he could handle himself in any given scenario, Bentley resigned with a nod, understanding that neither Royce and Vivien nor the group of young adults that had joined them would be willing to let him put himself in harm’s way. He couldn’t blame them. If the roles had been reversed and he was the older sibling of the group, he’d want them safe as well. “Do you have the spell?” he asked instead.

Royce dug into his pocket briefly and pulled out the piece of paper he had written everything down on. Folding the paper in half, he held it out for the others to read before saying, “It’s relatively short, so it should be pretty easy, but it said to keep reciting it until the magic is gone.”

Nodding, Vivien looked up and met Royce’s gaze with a grin, “If you lead, we’ll follow.”

“Alright,” Royce breathed. “Now, divide and conquer.”

Stepping out of the bubble created by the silencing charm, Bentley watched as Royce and Vivien split off, quietly moving through the darkness of the forest as he rounded the edge of the fallen tree. Remaining as hidden as possible, Bentley only stepped into the light of the clearing once he was sure Royce and Vivien were ready to begin the chant. Quietly, Vivien moved her hands in a figure eight and softly muttered, “Post tergum ligabis.”

In an instant, Serena’s eyes, which had previously been closed, snapped open, revealing nothing but black, soulless voids where her usual hazel irises would be as her arms jerked behind her back, and she dropped to her knees on the ground. Looking around wildly, she whipped her head from one side to the other, hissing something incoherently as she glared inky daggers at the trio surrounding her. “So clever,” she hissed as her gaze flitted between Royce and Bentley, “yet so, so stupid!” With a cackling laugh, she found Vivien and taunted, “Do you truly think me so pathetic as to not be able to break free from my bonds?”

“You have no protective runes in place or we wouldn’t be able to perform any kind of magic,” Vivien explained calmly. “If you wanted to break free, you would.”

Serena’s silent glare told them all they needed to know. As much as they wanted to believe that Serena was fighting the possession, the dark, murderous gleam in her eyes told them otherwise. Maybe the part of herself that was tucked away, locked deep inside the possessed form before them, was keeping the demonic spirit at bay just enough to keep them from harm. “Perhaps I am merely curious as to what powers you believe to have over me.”

As Serena let out another dark chuckle, Bentley nodded to his brother and friend, signaling that he was ready if they were. Taking a moment to recall the words he had read from their mother’s book, Royce spoke, “Serena Sullivan, you have betrayed your coven.”

“Serena is no longer with us, I’m afraid,” the redhead hissed.

“Maybe not,” Bentley began, “but you’re still in her body, and she was a part of our coven for years before you came around.”

Continuing his speech, Royce stated, “You have stolen knowledge above your age and station, and have practiced the darkest of magic.”

“Therefore,” Vivien started with a smile, “it is only fair that, as your coven, we punish you as we see fit.”

Stunned into silence, Serena’s eyes flickered between the trio, watching as Bentley joined them in raising his arm, his palm aimed directly toward Serena as Vivien’s and Royce’s were. 

Royce waited until Bentley and Vivien were focused on him before he took in a deep breath, settling his glare on Serena as he slowly began the chant that Bentley and Vivien quickly joined, “Darkness now be gone from thee, banished and bound, we set you free, under the light of this pure moon, hearken to our witches rune, magicae nostrae tenebras purgat.”

“Wait,” Serena breathed, glancing around with widened eyes. As they began reciting the chant a second time, Serena’s eyes began to shift to a shade of dark crimson as she gasped, “No! No, I cannot control it!”

With the second chant coming to a close, the young trio watched as their hands began to glow. Over the violet light emitting from her palms, Vivien could see traces of gold to her right and orange across from her. However, as they began a third chant, she spotted a glimmer of pale pink to her left, dragging her attention from the task at hand as the glow of the moon from above illuminated a head of blonde hair that appeared at the edge of the tree line. Despite her shock at Kona’s sudden appearance, Vivien forced herself to focus as she took note of the blonde reciting the chant along with them. Turning her gaze back on Serena, Vivien watched as a series of glowing, iridescent shapes began to appear above Serena’s body. The first took on the form of a tilted X, followed by a backward and elongated Z, and finally, a capital Y with the center line dragged upwards through the meeting point.

Though she had no understanding of what the shapes meant or why they had appeared, Vivien allowed herself to continue the chant as she watched Serena’s form writhe in some sort of invisible pain. She forced herself to watch as silent tears began to roll down the redhead’s cheeks, and the dark hues in her eyes dissolved to reveal the natural hazel underneath it all. None of them were entirely sure whether or not it was a true representation of the girl’s clarity, but as a gasp left her, they were fairly sure it was.

Allowing the chant to begin again, the now quartet watched in surprise as colorful beams of light shot out from their hands, attaching them to Serena like an invisible cord. As though she had been shot, Serena let out an ear-piercing scream, a pained cry leaving her as she caught her breath before releasing another scream. This time, as Serena screeched, a dark, reddened glow began to burn under her skin, flooding upwards from her chest to her throat. Then, as the ominous glow reached her temples, her eyes began to void themselves of any color, and a dark, crimson glow began to spread outward from her through the magical tethers connecting her to the four mages.

With wide eyes and panic thick in his voice, Royce yelled, “Let go!”

However, he wasn’t quick enough, and just as the words left Royce’s mouth, a pulse of dark magic slammed through the connection, flinging them away from her and leaving them minutely grateful they hadn’t hit any trees. At once, the magical ties connecting them to the redhead dissolved, and the runes preventing Serena’s magic from spreading flickered away into the night sky as she broke free of her magical bonds. Without so much as a noise, Serena rose shakily from her spot on the ground and, with a flourish of the cape wrapped tightly around her shoulders, she disappeared, leaving nothing more than a faintly charred circle of dead leaves and four magic-wielding teenagers struggling to push themselves from the forest floor.

With the only imminent threat now gone, Miles pushed himself to climb out from his hiding place, finding Bentley first as he loudly asked, “Are you all alright?”

As Vivien pushed herself to sit on her knees, she pushed her hair from her face and snarkily asked, “Does it look like we’re alright?”

Making her way to Vivien as Miles left Bentley in Carrie’s care to check on Royce, Mick asked, “Are you hurt?”

“I’m not dead,” Vivien claimed. “I think I’ll count that as a victory.”

“That’s not exactly what I meant,” Mick said as she helped Vivien to stand. Following the girl to where Kona had appeared from between a set of birch trees, she gestured to the girl and added, “And when did you get here?”

Brushing traces of dead leaves and dirt from her clothes, Kona grinned as she admitted, “I was here before you guys were.”

Allowing the blonde to lead the way to where the others had gathered in the clearing, Vivien asked, “When did you find out you had magic?”

“When I was talking to Ben and Royce’s mom,” Kona explained. “She sort of helped me understand that Bentley was telling me the truth about you guys having magic, but when I started getting frustrated, the table shook and she told me I probably had it too.”

“How did you know to find us here?” Bentley asked as Miles and Royce pulled him to his feet.

“I didn’t,” Kona said. “I had just left your house to go home and contemplate my existence when I saw Serena acting weird at the end of the driveway.”

Raising a curious brow, Royce questioned, “How did you follow her on foot?”

“Technically, I was on wheels at first,” Kona chuckled. “I had my skates, so I followed her as best as I could. She left her car by the commons and walked here, so I followed her.”

“And you managed to go undetected by a demon?” Mick asked.

Kona hummed, “It wasn’t as hard as you think.” Holding up a hand, Kona took in a deep breath and concentrated for a moment, leaving the others watching in stunned silence as her fingers began disappearing from sight. Thoroughly proud of herself, Kona beamed, “When you’re a ghost, nobody pays any attention to you.”

Taking what remained of Kona’s hand in hers, Carrie laughed as she felt the girl’s invisible fingers wiggling in her grasp, “I didn’t know you guys could do that.”

“I don’t think any of us did,” Royce muttered, glancing pointedly toward Vivien and Bentley who quickly shook their heads.

“I discovered it on accident, but hey, the more you know,” Kona smiled, taking her hand back and willing her fingers to appear again. After a moment, her expression turned serious as she claimed, “I heard Serena talking to herself about you guys having, like, cosmic powers or something. She wants the magic for herself.”

Bentley glanced around at the others as he asked, “That’s what it wanted last time, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Mick answered with a nod.

“Last time?” Kona wondered as she glanced from Mick to Bentley. “She really was possessed?” 

“I wasn’t lying to you,” Bentley stated with a hint of a grin.

Finding Kona’s gaze again, Mick asked, “Did you hear anything else?”

“Just her talking about wanting to take over,” Kona shrugged. “For the most part, she was talking to herself. It was like she was arguing with someone who wasn’t there.”

“Makes sense,” Miles mused. Taking a slow breath, he glanced around at the children before him and asked, “So, what’s the plan?”

Royce sighed, “We need to lure her to us and try to take her down again.”

“Are you insane?” Kona questioned. “She could have killed us!”

With a nod, Bentley agreed, “Yeah, I don’t think we’re strong enough to handle her on our own.”

“Maybe not,” Vivien began, “but she might be a bit weaker now that we’ve tried draining her once.”

“Exactly,” Royce said. “If we can get her to come to us with the idea of getting our magic, we can try it again.”

“Well,” Carrie began thoughtfully, “I highly doubt we’ll be able to convince her to come back here.”

Vivien sighed, “I think that’ll be the hardest part - finding a place.”

Taking in a deep breath as the others began offering suggestions, Mick cleared her throat and looked around as she spoke, “How about the commons?”

“You hate going to the commons nowadays,” Miles said.

“I don’t hate it,” Mick insisted with a sigh, “but regardless of my feelings toward the commons, it’s a nice, open space where they could work together to take Serena down. Besides, it’s a lot easier to donate funds to the town in order to replace torched bushes than it would be to pay off a handful of charred, antique church pews.”

Miles took a good look at the rest of the group, taking in their varied expressions as he sucked in a slow breath. Then, with a decisive sigh, he nodded, “Alright, I guess we’ll head to the commons then. But,” he began, looking pointedly at the group of four before him, “you four need to stay with us. No wandering off - we need you alive.”

After giving their forms of agreement, the teenagers turned on their flashlights and began the walk back to the edge of the woods. Once they were back on the path and sure the others were following them, Royce lowered his voice and asked, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Vivien swallowed thickly and asked in response, “What; that we might have to give up our powers?”

Sparing a glance over his shoulder as Miles accused Mick of intentionally smacking him in the face with a twig, Bentley sighed, “As much as I don’t want to give the magic up, I think it might be our only option.”

“What do you mean?” Kona pressed. “I just got mine, I don’t want to give them up.”

“And, thankfully, Serena doesn’t know that,” Royce claimed. “Besides, we only have three vessels.”

“Vessels?”

“People without magic that can take ours,” Vivien explained. “Mick, Miles, and Carrie can take ours, but we don’t have anyone to take yours.”

As Kona made a noise of agreement, Bentley spoke up, “Maybe we can use that to our advantage.”

“How so?” Royce asked as he pushed a stray branch out of his path.

Slowly piecing together his plan, Bentley spoke, “Kona can turn invisible. If she attacks Serena to keep her busy while we transfer our magic, she’ll be even weaker than she is and will be easier for them to take down.”

“Okay, that sounds great and all, but you guys aren’t seriously giving up your magic, are you?” Kona asked. “Like, this is just a temporary thing, right?”

“Our mom said that the power of the eclipse could make it permanent,” Royce admitted.

“Could,” Vivien emphasized. “If we’re lucky, we’ll be able to get them back.”

Hesitantly glancing between the three as they neared the edge of the woods, Kona asked in a hushed voice, “What if you can’t get them back? What happens then?”

Royce heaved a sigh as he admitted, “I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”

Stepping past the treeline, Vivien said, “I think we’ll just have to sit back and help everyone else strengthen their magic.”

“It’s only fair,” Bentley acknowledged. “They’ve helped us a lot in the last two weeks and I think helping them figure things out is the least we can do to repay them.”

“How do they feel about you guys giving them your magic?” Kona asked as she followed them toward where Miles and Mick had left their vehicles.

Silence filled the crisp autumn air as the magically-bound trio slowed their steps, their thoughts now riddled with scenarios and potential outcomes of the conversation to come. The idea of having to tell the people they loved most that they were giving up the magic - the magic that they had all worked so hard to improve and strengthen together - was terrifying. Especially when they realized that would entail telling the already mentally drained Mick that she would have to push aside her reservations to help them. Turning back toward the now-stopped group, Kona set them a worried look before pointedly glancing past them to where Miles and Mick had roped Carrie into singing an old TV show theme song with them as they walked.

Quickly righting themselves, the trio headed for the cars, Vivien tugging Kona along with her to Mick’s bus as she explained under her breath, “What they don’t know, they’ll help us figure out.”

As Kona climbed over the bench seat into the back of the beat-up hippie bus, she asked, “What happens when they find out?”

Heaving a sigh, Vivien slid into the passenger’s seat and watched Mick as she parted ways with her fellow oblivious friends. Vivien forced a smile onto her face as Mick made her way toward them, but as she glanced in the rear-view mirror at Kona, she admitted, “I have no idea.”

The door yanked open, and Mick laughed as she climbed into her seat. She slammed the door behind herself and tugged her keys from her coat pocket. “Are you guys ready?” she asked as she shoved her car key into the ignition.

“We are,” Vivien said before Kona could claim otherwise. “What were you guys talking about?”

“Not much,” Mick shrugged, putting the vehicle in gear before following closely behind Miles’ Jeep. “Miles said something about how Serena’s ponytail reminded him of the little girl on The Flintstones.”

“Pebbles?” Kona snickered curiously.

“Yeah,” Mick nodded as she met the girl’s gaze in the mirror. She slowed to a stop where the dirt roads met the gravel streets and watched as a few cars passed by. “So, we started singing the theme song and he convinced Carrie to sing with us even though we all know he would much rather just listen to her all day.”

Vivien chuckled, “Who wouldn’t? She’s a great singer.”

“Yeah, but he’s also a lovesick idiot,” Kona chimed in. With a roll of her eyes, she claimed, “I’m pretty sure she could start a wildfire or something and he would be singing her praises.”

“She could kill him and he would haunt her just to say ‘thank you,’” Vivien snickered.

Mick laughed, “You’re not wrong.”

Once they were back on the road, the rumble of the old vehicle’s engine overpowered any chance of a conversation, and Kona took the opportunity at a stop sign to stretch over the bench-style back of her seat and turn the radio volume up. While the radio flitted between static nonsense, advertisements for local businesses, and the fleeting notes of a Christmas song that had been cycling the radio waves since the day after Halloween, Vivien found herself trying to prevent her leg from bouncing anxiously as they grew closer to the commons. 

Though she wasn’t exactly thrilled with the concept of giving up her newfound abilities, that wasn’t the thing that was bothering her most. Her mind was more focused on how badly she was sure Mick would react. Whether she would admit it aloud or not, Vivien was terrified of having to deal with a hysterical Mick. Despite how far Mick had come since everything went down on Halloween, she was sure Mick would refuse to allow them to give up their powers, especially if she knew to whom Vivien intended to give her powers.

Glancing at the older girl beside her, Vivien forced herself to smile as Mick peered over with a grin and offered Vivien a hand over the cushion between them. Mouthing along to Mariah Carey’s infamous Christmas song, Vivien slipped her hand into Mick’s and sucked in a deep breath as she began praying to whatever deity would listen that things would go better than she expected them to. A part of her wished that this was all a dream and that she would wake up in bed or on the Murphy’s couch, but she knew that was practically impossible at this point. Things had gone far too off the rails for her to be dreaming.

As they drove past the hospital toward the center of town, Vivien found herself scanning the surrounding area for any sign of Serena. Although she hadn’t found anything, she couldn’t brush off the feeling that someone, somewhere, was watching them as Mick rolled to a stop behind Miles’ Jeep, their parking spots within walking distance of the street the Murphy family lived on. With no opportunity to call everything off and the looming threat of Serena’s possession still tugging at the far edges of her brain, Vivien cleared her throat and sighed as she looked around, grateful that very few people appeared to be away from home at that hour. Nobody else needed to see what was about to go down.

Taking a deep breath as she turned off the engine, Mick twisted in her seat so that she could see both Vivien and Kona as she asked, “Are you two ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Vivien sighed.

With a resigned nod, Kona agreed as she climbed over the back of the seat to sit between the two brunettes, “I’m just ready to use my new magic.”

“You’ll do great, Kona,” Mick reassured, brushing a stray hair from the girl’s face with a smile. “If you’re anything like Vivien and the boys, you’ll pick up on things in no time at all.”

Kona smiled and nodded before turning to Vivien with a wary look as Mick shoved open her door. Swallowing thickly, Vivien pushed her door open and allowed Kona to climb out behind her, letting the blonde tug her aside after the door was closed once more. In a hushed voice, Kona asked, “Are you sure about this? Ben and I were talking on Discord and he says he’s worried. I tried to reassure him, but I’m nervous too and I’m not the one giving up my magic.”

Vivien placed a hand on Kona’s shoulder and started walking around the car with her as she replied, “As I said, it might not be permanent.”

Digging her heels into the edge of the sidewalk, Kona urged Vivien to stop as she pressed, “What if it is?”

“So be it,” Vivien shrugged in response. “If we can get our powers back - great! If not, life can go back to normal, and we can help the others learn how to use them.”

“Are Royce and Bentley okay with that?” Kona asked.

“Why else would they go through with it?” Vivien asked in return.

“Because you’re okay with it,” Kona stated. When the brunette before her sent her a confused look, Kona huffed, “Royce will do anything you want him to - sort of like Miles and Carrie. You say jump, he asks how high.”

“I don’t think-”

“It doesn’t matter what you think, Viv. It’s the truth,” Kona interrupted. “As for Bentley, the only reason I’m sure he’s going through with it - apart from the fact that Royce is, and he’s always up his brothers’ asses - is because you are the closest thing to a sister that he’s ever had and he feels the need to impress you.”

“He doesn’t need to do that,” Vivien claimed. “He knows I adore him.”

“I’m sure he does,” Kona agreed as she began walking again. “But that changes nothing. What I’m trying to say is that they’re doing this for you. Did you even bother asking if they wanted to give up their powers?”

“I know they don’t,” Vivien sighed. “None of us do. It’s just the only thing left that could keep us safe from Serena.”

“And you’re sure about this?”

“Does it look like we have a choice?”

Kona glanced at her tall friend and sighed, “I guess not, no.” Taking hold of Vivien’s hand as they entered the commons, Kona muttered, “At least promise me that you guys will stay safe while I confuse the shit out of Serena.”

“I promise we’ll try,” Vivien offered with a hesitant smile.

“Good enough,” Kona shrugged as they made up the distance between themselves and where the others had gathered. Vivien sucked in a deep breath as she looked around at the group. Miles and Carrie were talking with Mick about something the boys had talked about in the car while they set out some of the crystals they had brought. While Royce worked on laying out a blanket for them to kneel on during the transfer, Bentley had chosen to lay on a nearby bench, staring blankly at the sky overhead. Though nobody else seemed to think this was anything odd for the young blond, Vivien felt a pang in her chest at the idea that he was observing what would remain of the magic they now possessed.

Giving Kona’s hand a small squeeze, Vivien suggested, “Why don’t you help Bentley with his existential crisis?”

“Is that what he’s doing?” Kona wondered with a raised brow.

“That would be my guess,” Vivien sighed. “I can’t say I blame him.”

“Me neither,” Kona agreed. As she headed toward the bench, she turned back to Vivien and said, “Good luck.”

With a grateful nod, Vivien made her way to where Royce had begun brushing dirt and grass from the blanket he’d laid out. Kneeling on the old, flannel picnic blanket, she softly asked, “How are you holding up?”

Barely glancing in Vivien’s direction, Royce replied, “Better than Bentley.”

Nodding more to herself than anyone else, Vivien sighed, “Yeah.”

Shifting to sit cross-legged, Royce met Vivien’s gaze and asked, “What about you? How are you doing with all of this?”

“Not great, but not horrible,” Vivien resigned. “I’m not thrilled with the idea that this could be permanent, but at the same time, I’m trying to remain positive.”

Royce hummed, picking at the blades of grass that just barely clung to life on the border of the blanket as he spoke “Ultimately, what choice do we have?”

“It’s not the end of the world if we give them our magic,” Vivien stated, tugging her jacket close as the wind picked up. “We’ve lived without it before.”

“Yeah,” Royce sighed, “I just wish we had more time with it.”

“So that’s it?” a voice hissed, the person’s wounded tone jolting Royce and Vivien from their conversation. As they turned to find Mick’s pained, chestnut eyes looking between them, hoping to see something else in their eyes, Vivien pushed herself to her feet. However, before she could explain the conversation, Mick asked, “You guys are seriously giving up? Just like that?”

“Mick,” Miles began as he neared them, “what are you talking about?”

Tilting her head but not tearing her gaze from the children before her, Mick claimed, “They’re giving up their magic.”

“What?” Miles breathed.

Stepping up to the group, Carrie asked, “Are you sure you didn’t just hear wrong, Mickie?”

Before Mick could clarify what she had heard, Bentley spoke as he stood from the bench he had perched himself on, “She didn’t hear wrong; it’s the truth.”

“You’re really thinking about going through with it?” Carrie pressed, her gaze flicking worriedly between Bentley, Royce, and Vivien.

“We’re not thinking about it,” Royce claimed as he stood. “We’re doing it.”

“Why are you guys so ready to give that up?” Miles asked. “You love your magic.”

Vivien sighed, “We do, but if her goal is to take our magic, we need to get rid of it before she can grow stronger.”

“And we don’t get any say in the matter,” Mick said with a shake of her head as her eyes drifted toward the ground. With a huff, she fixed her gaze on Vivien and breathed, “You can’t do this to us, to me.”

“We don’t have a choice, Mickie,” Bentley said as he and Kona joined the group. 

Taking in a shuddering breath, Mick muttered, “There’s always a choice.”

“Normally, yeah,” Vivien nodded, “but this time, there really isn’t another option.”

“If we don’t give up our magic, Serena will take it from us,” Royce stated. “Like Mom said earlier, this is our last resort.”

“What happened to trying the coven drain again?” Miles offered as Mick took a few steps away from them. “I thought that was the plan.”

Royce took in a slow breath and shook his head, “It would have been if we thought we could handle it. After what she did to us last time, we don’t think it would be smart for us to try fighting her off again, regardless of her being weaker too.”

Nodding understandingly, Carrie asked, “Was she trying to take your magic in the woods?”

“Whether or not she realized it, I think she was.” Glancing around at her fellow mages, Vivien said, “I don’t know about you guys, but when she was trying to fight us off and her magic was colliding with ours, it felt like she was draining the life out of me.”

“Yeah,” Kona nodded. “I felt weak.”

“We all did,” Bentley claimed. 

Royce nodded, glancing between Miles and Carrie as he spoke, “That’s why I think it would be better if we gave up our powers now. Kona can use her magic to lure Serena here, and once you guys have our magic, you can help her drain Serena.”

After a silent pause fell among them, Vivien added, “And, after it’s done, we can try to reverse it, if you really want that.”

Miles turned to Carrie, his worried steel-colored eyes finding hers as a silent question passed between them. Were they ready for this? After only two weeks of helping the kids strengthen their abilities and watching them grow more sure of themselves, were they ready to trade places? If this was permanent, were they really ready for their normal lives to be a thing of the past? As Carrie nodded and Miles took in a breath, they realized that it didn’t matter so long as the kids they cared so much for were safe. 

Turning toward Mick, Miles softly asked, “What do you say, Mickie?”

Though nobody could see her face, it was obvious the brunette was crying, her shoulders shuddering as she sucked in a shaky breath, “I’m not strong enough for this.”

“Yes, you are,” Vivien argued gently.

“I’m not,” Mick said with a firm shake of her head. “I know you think I am, but I’m not. I had magic for one night and almost killed all of you; what makes you think I could handle it now?”

“That was different and you know it,” Vivien said as she approached her oldest friend.

Sounding nearly as broken as she looked, Mick swiped a hand under her eyes and turned as she scoffed out a simple question, “How?” 

“You were given dark magic before.” Gesturing behind herself, Vivien chuckled, “You’ve seen us use our magic for the dumbest shit, you know the magic we have isn’t dark.”

“And before you try to say that it could become dark because of you,” Royce began, “think again. You’re one of the nicest people I know.”

Bentley nodded, his pearlescent smile practically glowing as he spoke, “Who else - apart from Miles and our parents - would put up with our nonsense on a daily basis and still want to do it again the next day?”

Despite the choked laugh she let out, Mick shook her head, but Vivien was quick to stop her from saying anything as she took the older girl’s arms and tugged her back toward the group, “I know you don’t think you’re strong enough, but we know you are.”

“Besides, you aren’t alone this time,” Royce claimed. “You’ll have Carrie and Miles with you, and the three of us will be there to help you if you need us.”

“Four of us,” Kona chimed in with a smile.

Mick glanced her way with a hint of a smile, but Vivien’s grip on her arms pulled her attention back to the girl before her. “Look, I know this is going to be hard for you, but if she gets our powers, all of Salem - if not the whole world - will be in danger.”

With a shaky breath, Mick met Vivien’s eyes once more and asked, “What happens if I can’t do it?” 

“You can,” Vivien claimed confidently. “I know you can. You have to.” -she slowly kneels on the ground, holding Mick’s hand out above her- 

“Guys, I hate to interrupt this,” Kona said, drawing everyone’s attention to her as she stared up at the sky, “but if we’re going to do this during the eclipse, we’re running out of time.” 

Sure enough, as their gazes lifted toward the starry sky above, they realized the moon had begun to glow a dark, bloody red. With time now effectively ticking away, Vivien’s hands slid down Mick’s arms to the older girl’s as she knelt on the blanket Royce had laid out for them not long before. Tearing his gaze from the sky, Miles watched Vivien kneel on the old blanket they typically used for cold nights at the drive-in and softly asked, “What are you doing, kiddo?”

Despite everything in her body telling her not to turn her gaze from the sky, Mick’s tawny eyes fell from the glowing light above as Vivien began to speak, “I know it’s not fair, Mick, but nothing ever is.” Holding the older girl’s right hand in both of hers, Vivien moved it so that Mick’s fingers were mere inches from her forehead as she met the older girl’s eyes and said, “It shouldn’t have to be you three, but it is and I’m sorry that it has to be this way.” 

Tapping Bentley on the arm, Royce nodded toward where Vivien had knelt, a silent gesture telling his younger brother to find a place to stay as he nudged Bentley closer to Miles. Despite his curiosity, Bentley wordlessly complied, kneeling to Viven’s left as Royce took up the spot on the brunette’s right. Peering up at his oldest brother, Bentley held out a pleading hand that Miles quickly latched onto as he crouched in front of his youngest sibling. Running a hand over Bentley’s hair in what he hoped would keep both of them calm, Miles pressed a quick kiss to his brother’s forehead before asking, “Are you sure about this?”

Without a moment of hesitation, Bentley nodded, “You guys could never hurt us.”

Looking at her two coworkers and friends, Carrie found herself, for the first time in a long time, at a loss for words as her gaze fell on Royce. Meeting the boy’s eerily calm, caramel gaze with her own, apologetically burning sapphire, Carrie sniffled back the growing lump in her throat and breathed, “I’m sorry.” As Royce’s eyebrow lifted - a trait Carrie typically only associated with Miles - she felt the need to explain further, “I know you’d probably rather be with Miles or Mick, but you got saddled with me instead.”

“I would have felt more comfortable, yeah,” Royce agreed with a breathy chuckle, “but for once, I actually picked you.”

“You did?” Carrie wondered. At Royce’s nod, she asked, “Why?”

“Believe it or not,” Royce began, offering the older girl a hint of a grin, “I trust you, Carrie.”

Unable to fight the burning sting of salty tears in her eyes, Carrie let out a wet, choked laugh at the timing of the sixteen-year-old’s statement. After trying for so long to have some semblance of a connection with the middle Murphy brother, this was what brought them together? Though she certainly wasn’t going to protest the slivered hint of a relationship, she wished it had formed under better circumstances. Royce’s chilled fingers tugged Carrie’s gloves from her hand, startling the blonde from her thoughts as she allowed him to tuck the gloves into her coat pocket and lift her palm toward his forehead.

With a nod to the blonde, Royce retracted his hands and said, “You’ve got this.”

“If you say so,” Carrie muttered in a breath.

Digging into the pocket of his jeans, Royce pulled out the napkin with the incantation on it and held it out for Carrie to take with her free hand. “Read this three times, part by part, and allow them to follow your lead while Kona starts sending out burst of magic for Serena to follow. Don’t read the next part until they say what you have.”

Looking over the makeshift note in her friend’s hand, Mick asked, “Are you sure about this?”

“Positive,” Vivien quickly agreed, refusing to allow anyone the chance to back out.

As he stood to his full height and held his hand in front of Bentley’s head, Miles asked, “Any advice before we start?”

“Imagine the magic flowing through you like a river,” Bentley said. “It makes everything easier.”

“Make sure you’re standing properly so that you don’t get thrown back.” Vivien offered. “I almost slammed through my bedroom wall when I first tried a new spell.”

As the others shuffled to find proper grounding, Royce said, “My only advice is to not give up. No matter what happens and how bizarre it feels, you can’t let it get to you. You’re a coven now. Your strength is in the magic that ties you together.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Mick glanced between Miles and Carrie before nodding at the blonde to her left. “I’m ready when you are.”

Once Miles had nodded in agreement, Kona took off in a run, making her way to the pavilion and launching a burst of magic into the air as Carrie held up the paper and began slowly reading, “Come moon of cold hours, between dusk and dawn, drain a witch of all powers, to render magic gone, potentias exhauri, malefica impotens.”

As the first of three incantations came to a close, Carrie gasped as she looked at the young brunet before her. Glowing veins had appeared just underneath Royce’s skin, drawing luminous, cerulean lines closer to the surface. His eyes had scrunched shut - due to pain or fear, she wasn’t quite sure - but slowly peeled open at the silence that filled the air. Once chestnut eyes now glowed a glorious navy, almost as though the moon had nestled itself in the boy’s soul. Glancing over at Vivien and Bentley, Carrie found her friends staring at the children before them in a similar state of wonder - and with good reason. Though the violet glow under Vivien’s skin was harder to spot due to the girl’s tan skin, Bentley’s golden hue was impossible to miss.

Carrie jumped as Royce’s icy fingers wrapped around her wrist, but as she found his gaze, she realized why he had done so. “You need to keep going,” Royce’s echoing voice reminded her without the teenager so much as opening his mouth. Glancing pointedly at the paper in the hand he held captive, he spoke once more, “Serena will be here soon; you need to finish this before she gets here.”

Still mildly in shock at how Royce had managed to communicate with her without verbally saying anything, Carrie nodded and swallowed thickly, wetting her lips before looking back down at the paper and beginning the incantation again. This time, as they began reciting the spell once more and Kona sent another magical flare into the air above the commons, the three young adults had to fight the instinct to help the teenagers before them as they let out a simultaneous noise of pain. Looking down, it was clear to see that the transfer had begun. Strands of colorful magic surged out from the young trio, arching into the palms of those who stood before them.

Golden rays of light that emitted from Bentley wove around Miles’ fingers like he had stuck his hand into a ray of sunlight that peered in through a window, the golden hue dissolving into a shade of almost too-bright white before jolting up his arm in jagged arches of neon blues and purples. Beside him, Mick watched as Vivien’s violet constellations flurried like snowflakes into her palm, the faint stars disappearing on contact as the colorful swirls of magic rolled around her hand and up her arm. Violet turned to teal and white as something akin to a wave swirled up the sleeve of her jacket and disappeared into her skin, but Mick forced herself to pay it little attention as she focused on the task at hand. Meanwhile, as Carrie read off the last line on the page, she watched shades of Royce’s lunar glow beam through her fingers, the light shifting from sapphire to slate before flickering into a blazing inferno that flared up her arm in an array of reds and oranges.

Just as Miles and Mick had finished repeating the final part of the spell, the standing trio jumped as an invisible Kona yelled out, “She’s here! I’ll keep her busy!”

Opening her eyes just enough to see a streak of pink and blue launch into the sky toward a hovering Serena, Vivien let out a breath and reached out a hand to Bentley, grasping his hand wordlessly before doing the same for Royce. Despite how ready she was just minutes prior, the knowledge that the magic she adored so much would now be gone had finally sunken in. With a shaky breath, Vivien watched as Kona’s bursts of colorful magic slammed Serena toward a nearby tree. She would miss having magic; it tethered her to her best friends in a way she had never thought possible before. However, so long as she got to help the others strengthen their own abilities and still had her friends by her side, she would find a way to grow used to it.

As the third and final reciting began, Kona let out a noise of surprise and ducked under a crimson wave of magic Serena sent in the direction Kona had dashed from. Fighting the urge to cuss out the dark witch mid-fight, the young blonde spared a glance at her friends before sending out a burst of light she hoped would at least temporarily stun the redhead and sending a few beacons of light toward the corners of the commons in the hopes of forming a protective barrier around the open area. Making a break for the other side of the commons as Serena screeched in pain, Kona tried to remember all that Bentley and Royce’s mom had taught her in their brief discussion. There wasn’t much to go on as their chat had been relatively brief, but as she sent another burst of light toward the old playground on the far side of the commons, she hoped what she had been taught would stick. Forcing herself to become visible to those around her once more, Kona attempted to catch her breath as Serena rubbed furiously at her eyes.

Once the redhead’s vision cleared and she began looking around the commons for the invisible assailant, Kona shouted, “Hey, Strawberry Shortcake!” Hoping she didn’t look nearly as weirded out by Serena’s glowing, blood-red eyes as she felt once the girl whirled around toward her, Kona grinned and yelled, “Come get me!” However, much to Kona’s dismay, the hovering witch’s head tipped to the side with a smirk before her gaze snapped toward the group of six now locked in the final recitement of the incantation. “No,” Kona breathed, using her magic to propel her faster as she rushed to catch up with the dark witch. “No, no, no!”

Faster than Kona could recall ever moving, she reached out, a tether of light extending from her hand and wrapping around Serena’s ankle, dragging the redhead to the ground as Kona ran to catch up. Kona’s grip on the tether tightened as Serena’s darkened, nearly-black fingers wrapped around the other end, turning the once cotton-candy-colored light a dark, violent red in her grasp. Serena’s cackling laugh pierced the air as she yanked on the magic tying herself to the small blonde, “Did you really think you - of all witches - would be powerful enough to stop me?”

Digging her heels into the ground, Kona looked past the redhead before meeting her eyes with a cocky smirk, “Maybe not, but I make one hell of a distraction, don’t I?”

Confusion flooded Serena’s ruby irises for a fleeting moment before realization kicked in. Whirling around, Serena snarled at the vivid array of colors on the other side of the field. With a roll of her eyes, the redhead let out a screech of frustration and sent a surge of scarlet magic toward Kona, flinging the blonde aside as the connection tying them together snapped, disappearing into a flurry of colorful sparks. Scrambling to her feet, Serena used another burst of energy to propel her into the air, cackling furiously as she aimed for the group surrounded by colorful energy.

Tired caramel eyes peeled open as the last surge of magic left Royce’s body and, glancing into the night sky, Royce met Carrie’s unnaturally orange eyes and shouted, “Behind you!” 

As though the magic they now shared had made it possible for them to move in unison, Carrie, Mick, and Miles turned toward Serena with extended hands, their newfound powers bursting outward in a full display. Lightning jolted outward from Miles’ fist, meeting Carrie’s crackling line of fire and Mick’s rushing wave as their magic slammed into Serena, knocking her out of the sky with a shout of surprise. Glancing at each other with wide, astonished eyes, Mick and Carrie nodded to each other before rocketing into the sky, leaving Miles on the ground as he turned his attention to the children now watching the battle from the grass.

Kneeling before them, Miles wordlessly checked on his brothers and pseudo-sister before glancing back at the girls now locked in a fight with Serena. After checking to make sure they were alright physically, he turned his focus back on the teenagers before him as he spoke, “You guys should stay somewhere safe until this is over.”

The only one to pay him any attention was Vivien, whose teary emerald eyes silently found Miles’. Swallowing thickly, she asked, “Where would we go?”

Feeling his chest clench at the heartbroken tone in the girl’s voice, Miles reached out and swiped his thumbs under the rim of Vivien’s glasses, brushing away her silent tears as he said, “Go back to our house and tell Mom what’s happening. Maybe she’ll know of a spell to end this.”

Nodding more for herself than anything, Vivien allowed Miles to help her to her feet before moving so that he could help Royce while she handled Bentley. Once he was standing, Bentley asked, “What about Kona?”

Miles glanced over his shoulder to where Kona was using herself as a distraction whilst Mick and Carrie struggled through the learning curve that was their newfound abilities. With a ghost of a smile, he turned back to his brothers and Vivien and said, “We’ll keep an eye on her. For now, focus on yourselves. We’ll cover you.”

Vivien stepped back as Bentley slammed into Miles, keeping herself at a distance as Royce joined the embrace. Not wanting to interrupt their moment, she watched Mick attempt to put out an accidental fire Carrie had created in her fiery tirade against Serena. They would be able to hold things off until Mrs. Murphy found a solution; she never doubted that they could. Royce and Bentley stepped away from their brother, and Vivien sucked in a breath, attempting to appear calm and hoping her small smile would be seen as comforting as they turned toward her.

“Ready?” she asked.

Though they didn’t answer verbally, both of her friends nodded and began to walk in her direction as Vivien caught Miles’ gaze between them. The two eldest siblings shared a nod, some kind of silent solidarity passing between them as Vivien heard Miles’ voice in her head, telling her to take care of not just the boys before he turned and took off, joining the fight without another word. Taking a final look at the fight, Vivien took her former coven mates by the hands and began pulling them in the direction of their home. Though she wanted nothing more than to help in the fight against Serena - it was their battle, after all -  Vivien knew they would be of no use to their friends if they had stuck around. If anything, they would be nothing more than distractions - pawns for Serena to use against the people they loved.

Despite Royce’s inability to run long distances without needing a break, he managed to make it to the end of their driveway without falling far behind, something he took a faint pride in as Vivien tugged him closer to the front door. Bentley was pushed inside first, followed closely by Royce as Vivien tried to look down the street at the commons in the distance. Sighing at how little she could see through the thickly settled neighborhood, Vivien stepped into the house and quickly locked the door behind herself before looking around. Royce had slumped against the back of the armchair their mom preferred to crochet in, his arms wrapped around himself in a kind of hug as his shoulders shuddered with each breath he took, whereas Bentley had disappeared, most likely searching the house for their mother.

Stepping up to her friend, Vivien brought her arms around Royce, rubbing a hand up and down his back as his arms closed in around her waist, grabbing fistfuls of her jacket to keep her as close as possible. Royce’s forehead dropped onto Vivien’s shoulder, and, for a moment, she worried if he was ill. His skin burned against hers, but as he muttered a soft, “It’s too warm now,” she realized that the lunar magic he once possessed was no longer there to keep him cool.

“I know,” she breathed over his shoulder, fighting to keep herself in check as Royce’s resolve crumbled around her. Before she could utter an apology, a flash of light in the kitchen caught her attention. The once warm-toned room glowed a bright white like a camera had gone off before dissolving into the room’s natural golden hue. “What was that?” she wondered aloud.

“What?” Royce asked as he leaned back, reaching up and drying his eyes as he tried to follow Vivien’s gaze.

Without allowing Vivien to explain what she had seen, Bentley entered the room with a small smile and said, “Mom just left. She said to try to eat something and rest on the couch until they get back.”

“They?” Royce wondered.

“Is she planning on joining the fight?” Vivien asked. 

With a frustrated sigh, Royce said, “She shouldn’t go in alone like that; it’s dangerous.”

Closing the gap between them, Bentley’s grin broadened, and Royce and Vivien shared a confused look as Bentley said, “Who said she was alone?”

A shrill squeal tore from Kona’s throat as she ducked behind a tree, narrowly escaping one of Miles’ rogue lightning bolts. For the greater part of however long they had been battling Serena, she had been forced to dodge Mick’s uncontrollable tidal waves and Carrie’s great balls of fire, and she was beginning to grow tired of being unable to so much as breathe without fearing for her life. Peering around the tree, she wondered how on earth they would begin to repair the charred remnants of the city’s commons, but as a burning branch cracked and fell in a shower of sparks at her feet, she didn’t bother to think further on just how screwed they would be come morning.

Pulling the neck of her fleece-lined hoodie over her nose, she scurried through the ashen remnants of a tree, hoping to send a burst of energy toward the soaked redhead just a few mere yards away once she was in the open. However, her plans were quickly dashed as she found herself unknowingly caught in one of Mick’s, quite literally, surfable waves. Kona sucked in a deep breath as the water dragged her under, sloshing her toward the invisible barrier she had formed earlier in the night. Waiting until the water ebbed away enough for her to breathe again,  Kona peeled herself off the muddy ground with a huff of exhaustion.

Feeling more like a drowned rat than a human, Kona groaned as her feet squelched in her shoes. With a huff, she pulled herself to her feet, the blonde firing off a lazy burst of cyan energy before slipping in her waterlogged shoes and colliding with the ground once more. Mentally pleading for some sort of reprieve from the chaos that was the battle she was suffering through, Kona heaved an exasperated breath and squished and squashed her way to the closest bench she could find, tugging off the boots she would, no doubt, be throwing in the nearest trash can once everything was over, and dumping out the absurd amount of water in them as Carrie fired off another round of blazing flames.

Hoping that the help Miles had told them would be there, would be arriving soon, Kona tugged her squelching boots back on with a grimace. Oh, how she hated the feeling of wet, squishy socks in fur-lined boots! With a sharp gasp, Kona forced herself to focus as she heard the telltale sound of a group of people laughing nearby. Hoping her protective shield around the commons still prevented regular citizens from seeing the chaos within, she looked around for any sign of where the group had gone, but her attention was quickly drawn to a radiant white light that shone over her shoulder. 

Turning back toward the fight, Kona’s eyes widened as a blindingly bright figure wrapped in pearlescent ivory sent a beacon of magic directly into the red witch Miles had just sent colliding with the ground. Serena’s limp form bounced across the soaked commons, rolling to a stop against a tree as the figure in white lowered themself to the ground. Touching the grass far more gracefully than Kona had in her few hours of possessing magic, the young blonde watched as the light surrounding the person dimmed, revealing none other than the woman who had helped her figure out she had powers in the first place - Mrs. Dorothea Witt-Murphy.

The woman’s cascading chocolate curls were the only thing about her that looked the same as how Kona remembered her appearing hours prior. The blindingly white clothing she wore was surprising as the woman was almost always covered in splotches of paint, but that was nothing compared to the opals that had formed in her once-brown irises. With wide eyes and her mouth agape, Kona stepped forward, watching the older woman’s amused smirk grow as the youngest of those in the commons neared her.

“Mrs Bentley’s Mom,” Kona breathed in astonishment, “is that you?!”

“It is,” Dorothea replied, a chuckle falling from her lips as her gaze flickered between the young blonde and her son, who steadily inched closer. Smiling knowingly at the newly magical young adults who crossed the grass between them, the woman said, “I heard you kids could use some help, but I didn’t know just how much.”

“Thanks for coming, Mama,” Miles said, the relief in his voice evident as he brought his arms around his mother’s shoulders and pulled her close.

Rubbing circles on her son’s back out of habit, Dorothea smiled into Miles’ shoulder as she said, “Of course, mon cœur. Anything for my babies.”

“Please help,” Mick begged as she and Carrie watched Miles embrace his mother. “We’re practically useless.”

“Speak for yourselves,” Kona piped up with a roll of her eyes. “I was epic, you three were useless.”

“We’re not useless,” Carrie said. Looking around at the charred, waterlogged commons, she added, “I think we’ve effectively learned how to barbecue and surf at the same time.”

Mick scoffed out a laugh, “We’re just helping the Parks Department get a head start on the winter renovations.”

“Exactly,” Carrie snickered, earning a sincere laugh from the brunette.

Smiling fondly at the girls as her son stepped back, Dorothea said, “Well, now that the remodeling is over, I think it’s time to address the task at hand.”

Turning back toward where Serena was slumped against the base of a half-charred, smoldering tree, Kona sighed, “What do we do with her?”

Checking the watch on her wrist, Dorothea answered, “Let’s bring her into the open air for now. Once the others get here, we’ll work on draining her.”

“Did you ask the kids to come back?” Miles asked. “I told them to stay home where it’s safe.”

“And they are,” Dorothea claimed. “At least, they should be.”

“Then, if it’s not them,” Mick began slowly, “who else is coming?” 

Dorothea smiled, a secretive, knowing smile that told those present she wouldn’t be sharing the information until the time was right. Before she could say a word, however, the silence of the commons was interrupted by the sound of a car door slamming, followed soon after by another. Looking around the otherwise empty commons, the group of four searched for any source of the sound, but found it nearly impossible to locate as the remaining bushes lining the commons gate hid most of the parking spots bordering the area. However, as Carrie turned toward the old playground that was in desperate need of repair, she spotted some familiar faces rounding the gate.

Tapping a hand on Mick’s arm, she asked, “Aren’t those your parents?”

Quickly turning, Mick’s eyes widened as she muttered, “What are they doing here?”

With his typical, mischievous grin, Brady headed not for his daughter, but for Dorothea, bringing an arm around the woman’s shoulders as he spoke, “Thanks for getting us out of there. I don’t know how much more awkward small talk I could handle.”

“Not to mention how horribly small the meals were,” Mack agreed, filling the space her husband left as he turned toward the children before him.

Finally finding herself able to voice her question properly, Mick wondered, “What are you guys doing here?”

“Thea called me at the restaurant and said you kids needed some help,” Brady said proudly. Turning back toward Dorothea, he added, “Sorry we weren’t here sooner. Someone had a hard time getting out of Walgreens.”

Ready to defend herself, Mack crossed her arms, a couple of plastic bags with the aforementioned store’s name plastered on the front tucked tightly in her elbow as she claimed, “This is my first time doing anything magic-related; excuse me for not knowing which type of salt would be strongest.”

Dorothea chuckled, placing a hand on Mack’s folded ones as she said, “Believe me, almost anything would work.”

Returning the woman’s smile, Mack unfolded her arms and dug into the bag she held, pulling out four containers of varying salts. Holding them out for inspection, she said, “Well, I got every kind they had, apart from bath salts. I hope that’s enough.”

“More than,” Dorothea agreed as she took the salts. “Did you find a box to put the spirit in?”

Mack nodded as she held out the other bag for Dorothea to look inside, “All they had were a couple of those plastic, Caboodles cases like the girls used to use for dance class, and a few metal train cases for makeup, but I found this and figured it would be the best as it has a lock and could be burned later on.”

Peering into the bag, Dorothea nodded and smiled graciously at her friend, “Perfect.” Turning toward the children, she said, “Now, why don’t you work on bringing her over closer to the pavilion and we’ll make a ring of salt around her to keep her from using her magic.”

Miles was the first to react, nodding to his mother and turning toward the others as he said, “Come on, guys.”

Wordlessly, Kona tugged the older girls by their coats until they fell into step beside her and the oldest of the group, making sure they followed as Miles led the way to the tree. As they watched the children gather around their unconscious friend, Brady turned to Dorothea and asked, “Does this feel as bizarre to you as it does to me?” Dorothea’s head tipped to the side as her eyebrow lifted, urging Brady to continue. “Well, a while ago, that was us.”

Dorothea hummed thoughtfully, her lips tugging into a smile as she reached into the pocket of her pants. Holding a glimmering, Mexican fire opal out between herself and her longtime friend, she offered, “It could still be us, you know.”

Placing his hand over the woman’s open palm, Brady smiled as he lowered them together, “I know.”

Smiling at the pair, Mack said, “I think he would take you up on it if he wasn’t worried about hurting our baby girl.”

“There’s nothing to worry about in that department, actually,” Dorothea said, drawing Brady’s attention back to her. “Just as I thought, she takes after her mother.”

“Does that mean she’s not…” Brady cut himself off, his gaze flicking back to his daughter as she and her friends helped haul Serena across the muddy grass. “She isn’t like me?”

“She won’t be burning half the town down because she got grounded, no,” Dorothea chuckled. “If anything, the only thing we would have to worry about would be her trying to catch a wave in the river.”

Smiling victoriously, Mack teased her husband, “I told you from the beginning, she’s a water baby.”

Brady shook his head as he chuckled, “I should have known better than to argue with a mother’s intuition.”

Before the women could do more than snicker at the man, Kona’s voice cut through the interaction, “What do we do now?”

Crossing the gap between them, Dorothea handed out the salt and instructed the children to make rings around Serena with each type as she told them, “You can never be too safe with these things.”

As the salt rings began to form, Mack pulled out the wooden lock box she bought at the store, handing it to Brady, who quickly opened it and pocketed the lock and key before setting it on the grass near the salt rings. Once the containers of salt were empty and tossed back into the bag they came in, Carrie asked, “Now what?”

“Now,” Dorothea began, “You four are going to sit in the four cardinal points - north, south, east, and west. One of you will sit by her head, another by her feet, and the other two on either side of her, but all of you will be on the outside of the salt rings.”

Brady nodded as he watched the kids figure out where they wanted to sit, “This sort of seals her inside and prevents her from using magic as you form protective runes around yourselves.”

Kona’s eyes glittered with pride from her spot near Serena’s head as she exclaimed, “I made some of those earlier!”

“And you did a great job, Kona,” Dorothea said with a smile. “Yours, however, were illusionary in order to keep unwanted visitors out of the bubble you made around the commons. These runes are protective and you need to make sure your intention shows that.”

“In a given space,” Brady began, “only the witch who casts the runes, can use their magic. This means that, once you four create runes around her, you’ll completely prevent her from her own magic in case she wakes up mid-spell.”

Dorothea said, “From what I know of Mick’s previous possession, two of you have done this sort of thing before. It will be fairly similar, but the only differences will be that we plan on using a different method and, once this is over, we will lock and burn the box containing the spirit.”

Piping up with a raised hand, Mack asked, “How are you going to burn it without the spirit escaping?”

Before Brady could answer, Dorothea smiled and said, “My pottery kiln, I believe. It’s far stronger than any simple campfire or barbecue.”

“And it has a lock,” Miles mused from his seat on the ground.

“Precisely,” his mother agreed.

“Now,” Brady began with a clap of his hands, “are you ready?”

Kona and Carrie were quick to nod, but as Miles turned a wary gaze onto Mick, they awaited her response. Taking in a slow, deep breath, Mick nodded, “As I’ll ever be.”

Placing a hand on her daughter’s back, Mack smiled and offered, “You’ve got this, baby girl.”

With a grateful nod to her mother, Mick turned her gaze to her father and his friend, waiting eagerly for them to tell her what to do. Ready to move forward, Dorothea said, “First thing’s first, you need to make sure your thoughts are focused solely on the protection aspect of this. It doesn’t matter how you get there, just focus on the end result.”

Brady nodded his agreement before speaking, “If you have to, imagine the people in your life you need to protect from this evil. It could be your family, your friends, a pet - anyone. Just so long as your mind and soul are focused on protection, that’s all that matters.”

“Then, you’re going to slow your breathing and hold out a hand toward the person opposite you,” Dorothea claimed, watching with a small grin as the group collectively took in a deep breath and worked on keeping their breathing even. “This will form a border between you. After a moment, your magic will flow and create a rune of your own. It may not be visible to everyone as your magic is still new, but that’s fine.”

Hands raised over Serena’s unconscious form, the magical group watched as a vibrant, multicolored line began to form in the air between them. Sprouting from the top and bottom of the line were thin, short, parallel lines that glowed glittering shades of red and pink and stopped just inches after their starting points. Astonished by the display, they silently watched as a triangle sprouted out from the center of the line, blues and purples melting together fluidly as the rune rose higher above their spot on the ground. As it rose, a light emitted from the ground, a solid circle of glimmering sparks rising out of the salt circles until it collided with the bottom tip of the rune.

The rune stilled as the magical shield touched it, encouraging Brady to say, “Good job, guys. That’s perfect!”

“Now, recite the spell after me,” Dorothea instructed, tugging the page of a spell book out of her pocket. Unfolding it, she began to read aloud the same spell she’d had the kids read earlier in the afternoon, “Darkness now be gone from thee, banished and bound, we set you free, under the light of this pure moon, hearken to our witches rune, magicae nostrae tenebras purgat.”

As they finished the first recitement of the spell they were told, the group gathered on the grass and watched as Serena’s crimson eyes snapped open, searching the area for whoever dared to cast a spell on her. Cackling, she hissed, “We’re back here now, are we? Could you not think of anything better?”

“Try again,” Brady said, dragging the girl’s attention to him as Dorothea started the spell again.

Sitting up despite the obvious pain her body should be in after being tossed around by everyone else’s magic, Serena barked, “This will not stop anything. I cannot be killed.”

“Maybe not outright,” Mack spoke, a smirk tugging at her lips, “but you can be burned, can’t you?”

“You would not kill this child,” Serena spoke as she looked around at those sitting around her, a twinge of panic nipping at the edges of her tone as she took note of the crimson ripples of magic leaving her body. “She is your friend.”

“Debatable,” Kona shrugged as the second chant came to a close. “Out of all people to possess, you picked the asshole cheerleader.”

With a smirk, Mick began, “Guess you royally screwed yourself this time, didn’t you?”

As Dorothea started the final recitement of the spell and those on the ground echoed it a final time, Serena let out a shrill scream, piercing the air in the hopes of tuning out the spell as it echoed around her. Magic flooded out from Serena’s skin like fresh wounds, flooding outward from her skin and into the air pocket the rune had created. As the spell neared completion, her screams turned into nothing more than hushed gasps as her voice squeaked out of existence. The redhead’s hands slid into her hair as she cried, nails digging into her scalp as ruby waves of magic pulsed furiously inside the shielded bubble.

All at once, the group finished the spell, and Serena slumped forward onto the muddy ground, her strength now nothing more than a thing of the past as the last threads of possession were cut free from her skin. Watching with bated breath, the group waited for a sign that something was awry as Mack brought the wooden box close to the circle. Dorothea and Brady stepped closer, urging Carrie or Miles to take the box with their free hand and slide it into the protective bubble while they still had it.

“Alright,” Dorothea began as Carrie slid the box into the circle, “now, I want you all to focus on shrinking the rune. Make it small enough to fit into the box.”

“It’ll take some time,” Brady warned them, “but you just need to keep the box inside the bubble no matter what.”

Standing from her spot beside her daughter as they began working on the project they had been given, Mack said, “I’ll try to pull Serena out as it gets smaller. That way, there’s no chance of it possessing her again.”

“It can’t, but that’s a good idea,” Dorothea said with a nod. “The spell prevents it from entering the same person twice.”

“Good,” Mick breathed as she inched closer to the box alongside Kona.

Maneuvering onto her knees for a better angle, Kona felt the protective bubble pushing back against her hand as though the magic itself was begging for freedom. As the others neared the box, Miles held the lid of the box open, making sure there was no way for the crimson mist to go anywhere else. Once the blood-red magic had honed in on the box, it was like a drain had unclogged as the magic flowed freely into the box without hesitation. Slamming the lid shut, Miles held it down with one hand and pulled it out of the salt circle so that Brady could lock it. With the box no longer under its protection, the rune glowed brightly before disappearing into the air, the shield it created melting back into the ground at once.

As the children relaxed, their energy fields returning to them as the shield dissolved into the soggy remnants of the salt rings, Dorothea took the now-shaking wooden box from Brady. As she placed her hands on the bottom and lid, white light emitted from her hands and her mouth moved wordlessly. Whether it was a spell or not, the four on the ground couldn’t tell at first, but as Brady stepped up and placed his hands on the sides of the box, a fiery light flowing into the box from his hands as his lips started moving in tandem with Dorothea’s, they figured it had to be. The box stopped moving as the pair stopped speaking, but neither opened their eyes until their mouths stilled.

With a bewildered expression, Mick found herself being the first to speak, “I thought you said you gave up your magic, Dad?”

Turning to his daughter with a chuckle, Brady nodded, “I did, sweetheart, but that doesn’t mean I can’t use it when I need to.”

Pushing himself from the ground, Miles helped Carrie up before asking, “Does that mean the kids can have their magic back if they want it?”

Dorothea sighed, “I’m afraid it might not be that simple.”

“Why not?” Carrie pressed. “If Mr Birch can have his when he wants it, can’t they?”

Tugging a glowing opal from his pocket, Brady spoke, “When I gave up my powers, it was a new moon.”

“And, because of that, we used a different spell.” Dorothea gestured to the fire opal in Brady’s hand as she added, “I tied his magic to this opal, not to a person.”

“That meant that, once I gave them up, so long as I had the object that held my magic, I could use them freely,” Brady explained. “If I didn’t, I was just an average person.”

“But because the kids gave their powers to us instead of some inanimate object,” Mick began slowly, “they can’t get them back.”

“Technically,” Mack began, “you have different abilities than the kids. That must mean something, right?”

“It does,” Dorothea acknowledged, “but for now, I suggest we put this conversation aside for the time being.”

“Why?” Kona asked, frustration evident in her voice. “What if we want to talk about it now?”

“Kona,” Miles reprimanded gently.

“What?” she replied. “I want to know how to give them their magic back. You can’t honestly say that you don’t want the same.”

Before Miles could reply, his mother spoke, “I understand the frustration, but apart from the fact that we need to get this box to my house and burn it, I think it would be wise if we get everyone dried off so that nobody gets sick.”

Carrie spoke up, hoping to dispel Kona’s urge to rage as she gestured toward Serena, “What about Sleeping Beauty over here?”

Brady was quick to respond, “We’ll take her back to the house so we can talk it over with her when she wakes up.”

“There is a high probability that she won’t remember anything as she doesn’t have any magical ties,” Dorothea claimed, “but in the off-chance that she does, we want to be there to help.”

“We can put her in my bus,” Mick offered. “With the bench in the back, it would probably be easier.”

With a nod, Miles said, “I’ll carry her over if one of you can get the door.”

Mick nodded, digging into her coat pocket for her keys as Miles lowered himself to the ground to pick up Serena. As Mick jogged toward the exit, leaving Miles and Carrie trailing behind, Kona looked around the commons with a sigh before turning to the adults and asking, “What are we going to do about all of the damage we did?”

“Damage?” Brady repeated curiously.

“What damage?” Mack asked with a grin.

Kona turned toward the open park, gesturing with her hand to the empty grass before her head jolted back in surprise. In place of the charred trees and demolished benches she knew had been there when she last looked, Kona found herself staring at the empty commons in confusion. Everything appeared as it had before their arrival, the wet ground the only evidence of them being there in the first place. “What?” she breathed. “How?”

Mack chuckled as Brady answered, “You kids have a lot to learn about magic.”

Dorothea hummed, “And, thankfully, many years to perfect it.”

Whirling back toward the adults who had already begun heading toward the exit, Kona’s mouth opened and closed like a confused goldfish. Quickly shaking herself free of her confusion, Kona scurried after the adults, rapid-fire questions falling off her lips like water as she hurried to catch up to them. Laughing at the child’s questions, the adults urged Kona to take a ride with one of her friends before piling into the Birch’s car and leading the way to the Murphy residence. Exasperated by the lack of answers she had been given, Kona chose to ride with Miles, keeping him company by pestering him with her unanswered questions. Despite knowing Carrie had gone with Mick to keep an eye on Serena, Miles began to wish he had begged her to ride with him as the only two-minute drive to his home began to feel like it was taking an hour.

Once they pulled into the driveway and Miles parked his Jeep just outside the garage, he was glad to find that Kona’s questions had stopped in favor of her jumping out and rushing to the front door, eager to tell her friends all that had happened. He made his way to Mick’s bus and helped his girlfriend shift Serena toward the sliding door before hauling her into his arms and following Carrie toward the door. Miles assumed he would hear excited chatter as Carrie held the door open for him; however, as he stepped inside, Miles found Kona perched cautiously on the edge of the coffee table with a finger pressed to her lips, silently telling all those who entered that the trio on the couch were fast asleep.

Placing Serena on the recliner and bringing the leg rest up to bring the girl some form of comfort, Miles turned toward the couch and sighed as he took in the trio resting peacefully there. Bentley was curled up between the back of the couch and Royce’s side while Vivien was slumped in Royce’s grasp, her head perched on his shoulder while his breath shifted her hair ever so slightly. As Kona took the three empty bowls from the coffee table to the kitchen, Miles took the blanket his mother had made years prior off of the back of the couch and draped it over the slumbering trio before joining the others in the kitchen. 

At Dorothea’s insistence, Kona took a bowl of food to the living room and found a video on her phone to watch so that the others could talk in some semblance of privacy in the other room. Once she was sure Kona had made herself comfortable on the floor, wedged between the couch and coffee table with her earbuds tucked in her ears, Dorothea turned her focus onto the group surrounding her dining table. Bracing herself on the backrest of her usual chair, she began, “I’m sure you must all have questions.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Miles sighed as he leaned back in his seat.

Carrie let out a scoffed laugh, a ghost of a grin tugging at her lips as she mused, “I think this whole day has just consisted of us having a million questions and not receiving a single answer.”

Mick hummed in agreement as her eyes traced the old grooves in the wooden dinner table, “It’s been a long day.”

“It has,” Mack agreed, “and I promise you’ll get some answers tonight.”

“Not all of them,” Brady quickly added, “but at least some.”

“Something is better than nothing,” Miles shrugged.

“But first,” Dorothea began as she took a step back from the table, “you kids need to eat something. Do you girls want anything to drink?”

“I have my water bottle,” Mick said softly with a shake of her head as Carrie nodded graciously.

As his mom headed for the counter where the Crockpot’s light glowed on the highest setting, Miles spoke, “I don’t think we’re all that hungry, Mom.”

“Speak for yourself,” Mick snorted.

Turning back toward her son as she grabbed bowls from the cupboard, Dorothea said, “Now, I know this has been a long, stressful day for all of you, but I also know for a fact that none of you eat properly at work. If you aren’t hungry now, you will be once this is in front of you.”

Resigning to his fate, Miles relaxed back into his chair once more with a nod as Carrie said, “I think all I had were those Twizzlers you got me earlier. I definitely won’t argue if your mom wants to give me some of her incredible food.”

Before Miles could say a word, Dorothea smiled and placed three bowls on the end of the table, instructing him to pass them down before sitting down and saying, “Thank you, Carrie. Now, Miles, why don’t you get yourself and your girlfriend a drink and we’ll start answering any questions you may have.”

Startled by the woman’s wording, Mick coughed on her water as she turned to her two friends with wide eyes, watching as the knowledge that their “secret relationship” hadn’t been, well… much of a secret, sank in. Carrie was the first to recover, her training as an aspiring actress kicking in as she turned to Dorothea with a hesitant smile, “Girlfriend?” 

“Mhm,” Dorothea hummed. “Why? Is that not what he calls you?”

Floundering for the right words, Miles’ mouth opened and closed noiselessly before he snapped it shut, his eyes wrenching shut as he sucked in a deep breath. Slowly letting the breath back out, Miles leveled his gaze on his mother as she smirked into the cup of tea she lifted to her lips, asking her, “How long have you known we’re a couple?”

“I’m a mom and a witch,” Dorothea stated plainly, sending her son a knowing look as she set her cup back on the table. “Not only does that mean that I have eyes in the back of my head, but it means I also have magical wards surrounding the house that tell me when someone sneaks out the back door before my feet have even hit the floor.”

With a hand over her mouth, Mick struggled to keep herself from laughing as her friends struggled to find the right words to say, their faces glowing a brighter shade of red than the lights on a firetruck. Discretely, Carrie slapped Mick’s stomach with the back of her hand, furthering the brunette’s struggle to remain as collected as possible. A tap to her shin brought Mick’s attention to her mother, the woman’s expression forcing her into silence as Miles sheepishly apologized to his mother for keeping the relationship from her.

Instead of appearing upset, Dorothea brushed Miles off with a wave of her hand, “Oh, please. Though I am curious as to why you felt the need to keep this from me for so long, it’s nothing to apologize for. So long as you both are happy, that’s all I care about.”

Miles took a moment to take in his mother’s words before softly asking, “Really?”

“Of course.” Reaching out to her son, Dorothea brushed a hand over his hair, pushing a few strands away from his eyes before cupping his cheek as she said, “You’re my baby boy - all I want is your happiness.” Allowing her gaze to drift onto Carrie as her hand returned to the table, she said, “As for you, my dear, you’ve been a part of this family since long before the first time you two went on a date. Goodness, that was - what - a year-and-a-half ago now?”

“We were just friends at that point,” Carrie said with a smile and a shake of her head.

“Are you sure about that?” Dorothea questioned, a knowing glimmer shining in her caramel eyes. “I could have sworn there was something between you back then.”

Before either Miles or Carrie could respond, Brady sent his childhood friend a smirk and sighed, “Dora.”

“What?” Dorothea replied, feigning innocent curiosity. “I’m just saying.”

Mack snickered, “It’s nice to see the meddling older sister is still in business.”

“Hey,” Dorothea began, “I told everyone from the start that you two would be together and, as everyone can see, I was right.”

“You said the same thing about Tommy and Celine,” Brady said with a grin.

“That’s another story entirely,” Dorothea said with a wave of her hand. 

“Now,” Mack began, scanning the faces of the young adults surrounding the table, “how about we answer a few questions while you eat so that you can get to bed?”

As her friends nodded in agreement, Mick spoke, “I think the first question I want answered is how on earth Dad has magic when he said he didn’t?”

Clearing his throat, Brady said, “Well, after I nearly burned Salem to the ground, we performed the coven ritual. At the time, our coven was only me, Dora, and Tommy.”

“Uncle Tommy has magic too?” Miles wondered aloud as he found his mother’s eyes. “Since when?”

“Since always,” his mother replied. “The point is, when Brady felt he couldn’t handle it, we drained his magic into a crystal that was capable of holding it.”

Pulling the crystal from his pocket, Brady explained, “If I wanted to, I could absorb my magic in full, but seeing as I don’t feel confident in harnessing my full powers at all times, they stay here. When I need to use them, all I need is to keep this with me.”

“For the most part, it stays with me,” Dorothea stated, “but Brady keeps it safe in the winter to keep those around him warm.”

Thinking back to the various camping trips they had taken over the years when nobody felt the need to start a fire despite the temperature saying they should, Mick muttered, “That makes a lot of sense.”

“What is your magic called?” Carrie asked as she set her spoon down. “The kids have the sun, moon, stars, and - what is Kona? A comet?”

“I think so,” Miles nodded.

With a nod, Carrie continued, “And we have nature magic. What are you guys?”

“We represent mythical creatures,” Brady claimed.

Dorothea smiled, “Brady is a phoenix - a mythical bird born of the ashes of its predecessors, I am a pegasus - a winged horse that represents light, freedom, and imagination, and Tommy is what the Greek call a cetus - a sea dragon.”

“What about you, Mom?” Mick asked.

Mack took in a breath and , “Sadly, I was born without magic. That, combined with your father giving up his magic, made it that much harder for you to have any abilities by the time your sixteenth birthday rolled around.”

“Is that why we didn’t get magic on our sixteenth birthdays?” Miles asked. 

Once the adults nodded, Mick asked, “How come the kids got theirs, then?”

“And how can we give them some magic back?” Carrie added. “Vivi was searching for weeks to find a way to give Mick some and hadn’t found anything.”

“I’m afraid those are questions we’ll have to find out the answer for in the morning,” Dorothea claimed. “We’ll have to do research tomorrow.”

“For now,” Mack began, “you kids need to eat.”

“What about you guys?” Mick asked. “I thought you said you’d still be hungry after that dinner.”

“We ate our way through a basket of that fancy bread,” Brady chuckled. 

Mack nodded as she pushed herself from her chair, “They had the same oil dip as the Greek restaurant by Market Basket, so we filled up on that.”

With a nod, Mick returned to the bowl of pizza casserole before her as her parents and Miles’ mother stood, pushing in their chairs and grabbing the box from the counter before heading out through the garage. Closing the door to the house behind her friends, Dorothea let out a long, slow breath and made her way to the side of the garage she had cordoned off as a safe space for arts and crafts. At one point in her marriage, the area had been a gift from her now ex-husband, Allen - a way for her to express her creativity and encourage their children to do the same. Nowadays, however, the space was mostly used by Bentley for his seemingly endless art projects and Miles for the paintings he would never allow to be seen by the public despite his mother’s insistence that they were better than he thought.

Looking around at the seemingly endless supplies in the area, Mack wondered, “How on earth did you get all of this stuff?”

“Most of it was a gift from Allen,” Dorothea explained as she unlocked and opened the pottery kiln. “Once I found out he was cheating, he tried to buy my love. Of course, it didn’t work, but he let me keep everything in the divorce because the boys begged him to.”

“I thought he said he never had money,” Brady commented from his perch on a stool.

“He didn’t,” Dorothea said, setting the box inside the kiln before turning to Brady and Mack, “it was his girlfriend’s father’s money.”

With a scoff, Mack said, “I still can’t believe he was dating someone only a few years older than Miles.”

“To be completely honest, I doubt he knew how old she was at the time,” Dorothea shrugged as she closed the kiln and turned it on. “Her father was his company’s owner and the money was what he wanted more than anything. Although I wish them the best, chances are that, once he has the money he wants, he’ll weasel his way out and find a new target.”

“Ridiculous,” Brady breathed as he watched the kiln whir to life.

“It doesn’t really bother me all that much anymore,” Dorothea explained. “It hurt to know how much it affected the boys at first, but they don’t seem bothered by it, so why should I?”

“That’s true,” Mack mused.

“So,” Brady began, “how long does it take to heat up?”

Dorothea dragged a rolling stool over and sat as she sighed, “Maybe eight to ten minutes. By then, the kids should be done eating.”

“Would you like us to bring the girls home?” Mack asked.

Brady chuckled as he and Dorothea shared a look, “I doubt they’ll let us.”

With a raised brow, his wife asked, “Why not?”

“When a coven is first formed, the desire to stay close to the other members is strong,” Dorothea explained. “Normally, a coven starts within a family, so it isn’t unusual for them to be close or want to spend time together. However, when it either starts or grows to include a group of friends, it results in sleepovers or the desire to get a job at the same location.”

“Is that why they all got a job at the Cottage?” Mack questioned, realization gleaming in her dark, umber eyes. “Or why the kids spend so much time together?

“Most likely,” Brady nodded with a grin. “To them, wanting to spend time together probably feels normal by now.”

Dorothea hummed, “It won’t be easy for them to willingly pull away. At least, not for a few days.”

“So, what do we do?” Mack asked as she looked between her husband and friend.

“Knowing Miles, he’ll either offer the girls his room or bring the air mattress up from the basement,” Dorothea claimed. “He won’t let them sleep on the floor.”

“What happened to the spare room?” Brady asked.

“Well, I was going to offer it to you two,” Dorothea stated. “I figured you would want to see how things go down in the morning.”

Brady turned his gaze to Mack, a silent question in his hopeful expression. With a smile and fond roll of her eyes, Mack nodded before turning her gaze onto the curly-haired brunette across from her, “We would appreciate that, thank you.”

“Of course,” Dorothea replied.

Taking in a breath, Mack sighed, “Well, in that case, I’m going to swing by the house and pick up some essentials for the night.”

“I can go,” Brady offered, rising from his seat.

Mack smiled, lightly shaking her head as she said, “You two said that, when a coven grows, you all become clingy. Stay here and watch over the kids; I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Dorothea asked.

“Positive,” Mack replied, pulling her car keys from her pocket. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”

Brady and Dorothea shared a look as Mack opened the garage door and headed out onto the driveway, but shrugged as the woman climbed into the family car and took off down the road. Smiling at her longtime friend, Dorothea said, “You should probably check on the kids.”

“Probably,” Brady replied with a nod. Digging into his pocket, he produced the fire opal he had slipped from Dorothea’s hand earlier in the day. Holding it out to her, he said, “You know, as much as I love feeling like just a normal guy, I sort of missed the feeling of fire in my veins.”

“You always do,” Dorothea chuckled as she pocketed the crystal. “You know, with Carrie also having fire-based magic, I might require you to step in and teach them.”

“And, when the time comes, I’ll gladly step up to the plate,” Brady said with a smile. 

Nodding to her friend, Dorothea watched him head for the door before turning her attention back to the kiln, watching as the temperature gauge slowly rose closer to the highest setting. As opposed to the silence that normally came from the pottery kiln when she or Bentley had it in use, Dorothea fought the urge to jump as the wooden box within began crackling under the intense heat. Humming to herself as the wooden box crackled and popped in the tabletop kiln, Dorothea wheeled her stool over to the rack of paintings that had been left to dry by various members of her household. Looking through the different artworks left mostly by her sons, she chuckled as she tugged one of Miles’ many portraits of his girlfriend from the rack. 

Though he had used a smaller canvas, Miles had tucked the painting between two larger frames in the hopes of keeping it from any prying eyes. However, his efforts were in vain. Distantly, Dorothea wondered how her eldest son believed she hadn’t known about his relationship with the blonde when he left such masterpieces around the house in plain view. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if he had ever given his artwork to Carrie, but then brushed off the question as she knew how secretive Miles tended to be when it came to portraits he created. Maybe, someday, he would feel confident enough to give his girlfriend one of the many gifts he had made, but for now, his artwork would remain within the confines of their home, locked away until he felt ready.

As Dorothea tucked Miles’ artwork back onto the rack where he had left it, she heard the telltale beep from the kiln, its temperature gauge letting her know that it reached its highest temperature. With a sigh, she rose from her seat and rolled it back under the counter before making her way to the kiln and setting a timer that would end early the next morning. Once the machine beeped to show the timer had been set, the woman smiled to herself and turned toward the door that led inside, pulling her hair into a half-hearted ponytail before she reached for the knob. 

Stepping into the kitchen, Dorothea looked around the nearly empty room curiously before her gaze settled on Brady as he worked on washing the dishes in the sink. Announcing her presence, Dorothea smiled, saying, “We have a dishwasher, you know.”

With a chuckle, Brady placed a bowl in the strainer to dry and replied, “I’m aware, thank you.”

Leaning against the counter, Dorothea asked, “Where are the kids?”

“The living room,” he replied. “Mack is helping them set up the air mattress.”

“I didn’t even hear the car pull up,” she mused. A thoughtful silence fell over the room after Brady hummed in understanding, but as she took in a breath, Dorothea asked, “How do you think they’re dealing with all of this?”

“Better than we did,” Brady snickered. Dorothea snorted; that wasn’t exactly hard. “Remember when you nearly blinded our history teacher the morning after we got our magic?”

“All too well,” Dorothea sighed. “I think that’s why she tried to fail me that year.”

Chuckling as he turned off the water and set the last dish into the strainer, Brady dried his hands off on the tea towel before nudging his friend, “I think it was more due to the fact that you kept telling her off for getting her facts wrong.”

Rolling her eyes as she headed toward the living room, Dorothea grinned as she said, “If she didn’t want me to correct her, she should have done her research.”

Following behind his childhood best friend, Brady let out a breath of a laugh, “She should have.”

As the pair stepped into the living room, they found Mack gesturing for them to keep their voices down as she approached them. “They just laid down,” the short woman said in a hushed tone.

Nodding, the pair silenced themselves before allowing the shorter brunette to guide them toward the stairs. Once they were upstairs and far enough from the kids that they didn’t feel the need to keep their voices hushed, they wished each other a good night and retired to their respective rooms for the night. Before retiring to her room for the night, Dorothea crept down the stairs just far enough to see the slumbering group gathered on the living room floor, making sure they were resting as peacefully as possible before returning to her bedroom with a smile.

Gradually, the night crawled closer to day, and as golden rays peered through the Venetian blinds that had been installed over the bay windows, Royce groaned at the brightness burning through his fluttering eyelashes. His arms had gone numb in his sleep, and as he looked down, he realized he didn’t quite mind it. Bentley had passed out facing the back of the couch while holding Royce’s arm captive, and his other arm was wrapped snugly around Vivien’s shoulders, locking the girl in place with her head on his shoulder.

He didn’t have the heart to move out from under her - not that he wanted to in the first place - but as he moved his hand from her back, he worried she might fall if he didn’t at least nudge her further onto the cushions. However, as he tried to figure out a way to move her without waking her, Vivien let out a noise of discontent and tucked herself impossibly closer to Royce, her face squished into his shoulder as she grabbed a fistful of the hoodie he still wore from the night before. Despite the urge to snicker at the brunette’s smushed face, Royce used his free hand to brush Vivien’s hair away from her mouth before resting it on the back of her head.

Just as Royce took in a deep breath and allowed his head to hit the pillow he had shoved against the armrest, a soft voice reached his ear, “Are you awake, Rolls?”

Lifting his head just enough to find Vivien’s hazy, sleep-riddled eyes peering up at him, Royce smiled, “Nah, I’m just a figment of your imagination.”

Shrugging as she minutely nodded to herself, Vivien’s head tucked back into place as she muttered, “I like this figment; it’s comfy.”

Royce let out a breathy chuckle as he replied, “Usually, we do this the other way around.”

“I like those,” Vivien whispered, her breath sending goosebumps fluttering across Royce’s skin, “but I just like being with you.”

Taking in a breath in the hopes of stalling the horde of insects fluttering around in his stomach, Royce admitted, “Not nearly as much as I like being with you, I’m sure.”

“Debatable,” Vivien retorted softly.

Royce tried to think of a way to respond that wouldn’t completely destroy the bond he had carefully formed with Vivien over the years, but his train of thought was sent off the rails as Bentley’s fingernails dug crescents into his forearm and his younger brother exhaustedly huffed, “Can you two go confess your love for each other somewhere else? Some of us are trying to sleep here.”

Squeezing his brother as both an apology and a way to get him to shut his mouth, Royce said, “We aren’t confessing our love, Ben.”

“Who says I wasn’t?” Vivien asked groggily as she pushed herself onto the one elbow that wouldn’t dig into Royce’s ribcage. Bewildered umber eyes searched Vivien’s face as the girl fought her way through a yawn, but as her emerald eyes found his, Royce found nothing but bleary honesty in them. When Royce still hadn’t found the words to express his rapidly changing thoughts, Vivien spoke once again, “Look, these last twenty-four hours have been nothing but chaos, but I did a lot of thinking last night when I couldn't get to sleep, and I decided that I’m not going to deny that I’ve liked you for a long time now.”

Finding the ability to string together a partially coherent sentence, Royce’s mouth fluttered for a moment before he asked, “You- I- I’m sorry, you what?”

Before Vivien could reply, Bentley rolled over with a glare, the disgruntled look plastered on his face making him look more than mildly upset despite his messy blonde locks and the marks from Royce’s hoodie on his face making him appear as nothing more than a child unwillingly roused from deep slumber. With a huff, he said, “She likes you and everyone knows you like her back. Now, either ask her on a date or shut up so I can go back to sleep.”

Royce’s gaze drifted back to Vivien, but before he could think of anything to say on the topic at hand, a voice chimed in with a chuckle, “I think it’s a little late for sleep, sunshine. If you don’t get up soon, you’ll miss school.”

Vivien was the first to move as she found Dorothea’s smirking face peering down at her from over the back of the couch, pushing herself off the couch as though she had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Now wide awake and well aware of what she had said, Vivien’s face burned as she forced a grin onto her face and said, “Good morning.”

Rounding the couch as Royce sat up, leaving Bentley to flop against the cushions, Dorothea took the brunette’s face in her hands and pressed a kiss to Vivien’s forehead before speaking, “Good morning, my sweet girl. How do you feel this morning?”

“Tired,” Vivien muttered. “Yesterday was… it was a lot.”

“It was,” Dorothea agreed. With a somewhat remorseful smile, the woman squeezed Vivien’s shoulders before releasing her, “I’m going to start breakfast. If you kids don’t mind, could you help wake the others?”

“Sure, Mama,” Royce said around a yawn. 

“Thank you, baby,” Dorothea said, leaning over so that she could press a kiss on the top of her son’s head. Moving to Bentley, she brushed his hair from his face and kissed his forehead before saying, “Time to get up, sunshine.”

“Don’t wanna,” Bentley grumbled as he forced himself to sit up.

“Too bad.” Dorothea turned on her heel and headed for the kitchen as she said, “You kids have that meeting today with that club Riven helped start. If you don’t feel like missing it, you need to get up and get changed.”

“Must we?” Vivien asked as she stretched.

Leaning against the archway that separated the living room from the kitchen, Dorothea smiled as she nodded, “Unless you feel like explaining to everyone why you’re wearing yesterday’s clothes, I’m afraid you must.”

With a sigh of defeat, Vivien relented, allowing Dorothea to return to the task at hand while the kids started their morning. However, before the brunette could move to where Kona had curled up by the fireplace, a hand closed around her wrist, keeping her in place. Turning back toward the couch, Vivien traced the hand on her arm up to Royce’s face, finding his nervous, caramel gaze already on her. 

Taking a tentative breath as he released Vivien’s arm, Royce asked, “Can we talk about that?”

“About what?” Vivien offered in return as she took her glasses from the coffee table, hoping the topic could be dropped now that she had the wherewithal to recall what she had said.

Royce fought the urge to sigh at her resistance as he asked, “Were you just messing around or do you really like me?”

“Of course I like you,” Vivien replied simply, stepping aside so that Bentley could make his way past her to where Kona was sleeping.

“Like, a genuine relationship thing, not just as a friend?” Royce pressed.

Vivien sucked in a breath and sighed, dropping any pretenses she might have had as she admitted, “I already told you I did.”

“So,” Royce began slowly, “you were serious?”

“I wouldn’t lie about something like that, even when I'm half asleep,” Vivien stated. “But if you don’t feel the same, I get it. You just have to say so and I’ll-”

“No!” Royce exclaimed, shaking his head. “No, no, no!”

“Damn, man, I get it,” Vivien scoffed as she turned away from him, smirking to herself as she heard Royce let out a startled noise. As she rounded the coffee table and headed for the air mattress to wake the others, she continued, “You could’ve just left it at one, but four? Gosh, am I that undateable?”

“That’s not what I meant, Viv, I swear,” Royce tried as he followed Vivien to the other side of the room. “You’re dateable - I’d date you. I-I want to go out with you and I have for a long time, but I didn’t want to say anything ’cause, well, I didn’t think you’d see me that way.”

Vivien pivoted, a smile tugging at her lips as she found Royce’s hesitant yet hopeful eyes and asked, “How’s Saturday sound?”

“Saturday?” Royce echoed in bewilderment.

With a nod, Vivien said, “We can go to that comic book store you’ve been wanting to check out, spend some time playing with the animals at the shelter across the street, then have something to eat at IHOP, and spend our afternoon harassing Riven at work.”

“So, a typical Saturday, then?” Royce offered with a breathy chuckle.

Vivien snorted, “Well, yeah, but this time it will be just us.”

“And whatever unfortunate soul has to put up with you two the whole day,” Miles grumbled as he forced himself to sit up. 

Smirking with the knowledge that her conversation with Royce had roused those still sleeping on the floor, Vivien cooed, “Aw, thanks for volunteering, Miley!”

Miles’ exhausted, halfhearted glare at the nickname she had thrown his way only made the girl’s smile brighter as he snipped, “Are you always this obnoxious in the morning?”

Vivien snorted as she lightly kicked Miles' shin, “Says the whiny, vampire bitch boy who hisses at the sun.”

“I’m not one of those stupid, sparkly things, you little shit,” Miles said with a roll of his eyes as Mick and Carrie got up from the air mattress with matching, exasperated expressions.

Vivien began counting on her fingers as she listed, “You hiss at the sun, you hardly socialize with anyone outside of your little friend group, and you act like a ninety-year-old man sometimes. Hate to break it to you, dickhead, but I’m pretty sure that makes you a vampire.”

Before the early-morning argument could go any further, Mick spoke up from her perch on the couch, “Enough, you two. It’s too early for any of us to put up with your shit.”

“Shithead,” Miles quipped as he pushed himself off of the floor.

“Asshat,” Vivien smirked fondly.

Relenting, Miles brought an arm around Vivien’s shoulders before pulling Royce into his free side and deciding, “I wouldn’t mind driving you two around this weekend. Just tell me when.”

“Thanks, Miles,” Royce said graciously as he brought an arm behind Miles’ back.

“Yeah, yeah,” Miles replied, running a hand through his hair as he stepped away. “You kids know I’d do anything for you.”

“We do,” Vivien nodded, “and we take advantage of that often.”

“I know,” Miles said with a grin as he joined his girlfriend and best friend on the couch.

Vivien smiled at the taller man before meeting Royce’s gaze and shaking her head with a smile. Royce joined her with a chuckle before taking a step back and turning his attention to the recliner where Serena slept. Gesturing to the slumbering redhead, he asked, “What do we do with her?”

Before anyone else could respond, a woman’s voice from the stairs answered, “With any luck, she won’t remember a thing.”

Turning toward the stairs as her parents descended them, Mick said, “I remember when it happened to me.”

“I know,” Brady nodded, “and we’re prepared for that outcome as well, but for now, we just need to assume she won’t recall a thing since she has no magical upbringing.”

“And, if she does remember what happened,” Mack continued, “she knows she can go to you all if she needs help.”

“How would she know that if she’s been unconscious the whole time?” Kona asked as she and Bentley worked on starting a fire in the hearth.

Vivien sighed, “There were moments where Serena broke through and talked to us. She asked us for help more than once.”

“Then why didn’t we just bring her home and let her talk with us when she’s ready?” Kona asked.

“Because she’ll need support,” Mick replied. “When I woke up from it, all I wanted was comfort from the people around me, but I was too scared I would hurt someone to ask for it.”

Mack hummed her agreement, “And, if Serena realizes from the start that it’s alright to ask for help, she might find it easier to do so.”

As the adults left the room, heading to the kitchen to help with breakfast, Carrie spoke up, “So, who feels up to waking her?”

Without much hesitation, Vivien stepped up, “I’ll do it.”

“Just don’t waterboard her like you did me,” Mick said with a pointed look at the young brunette.

Vivien smirked, “No promises.”

“Yes, promises,” Carrie insisted.

“Fine,” Vivien sighed dejectedly. “Maybe promises.”

“Good girl,” Carrie said with a tired grin.

Taking in a deep breath, Vivien stepped up to the recliner and slowly pulled the lever to drop to leg rest, allowing it to settle back under the seat of the chair before reaching up and gently shaking the redhead until she stirred. “Serena,” she started, “it’s time to get up.”

The exhausted redhead blinked tiredly up at the brunette before her, a yawn tugging from her lips as she slowly sat up. Looking around at the other occupants of the room, she asked, “What happened?”

Kona scoffed as she and Bentley rose from the floor, “You seriously don’t remember?”

“Not really,” Serena muttered, pressing a hand to the side of her head with a wince. “My head’s still pounding from that bizarre dream I had.”

“Dream?” Royce echoed. “What dream?”

“Just some stupid dream,” Serena scoffed. “Why do you even care?”

“You’re our friend,” Royce stated. At the redhead’s raised brow, he tacked on, “Well, sort of.”

Glancing between the group she used to consider her closest friends, Serena rolled her eyes and sighed, “It was just one of those out-of-body nightmare things, that’s all. Now, why am I here, of all places?”

Without allowing anyone else to control the narrative, Vivien let out a breath of a laugh, leaned against the armrest of the couch, and said, “We aren’t really sure what happened, but my guess would be that you got blackout drunk at your ‘bestie’s party.”

Despite her hazel glare not holding nearly as much aggression as it used to when aimed at someone who had offended her close friends, Serena’s piercing gaze still felt like a threatening knife held to their throats as she hissed, “Why the hell would that be your first guess?”

Attempting to appear unfazed by the girl’s stare, Royce said, “We found you passed out on a bench in the commons, all alone; that’s pretty telling, if you ask me.”

“Violet wouldn’t let me get that wasted,” Serena claimed despite the tentative look in her eyes telling everyone otherwise. “We look out for each other.”

“Yeah, well, regardless,” Vivien sighed, “we brought you back here to get you out of the cold and you fell asleep there before we could get you to move onto the air mattress.”

Stepping up toward where the group had gathered, Bentley said, “We couldn’t find your car, but your keys are on the table by the door.”

“Great,” Serena sighed to herself as she shakily rose from the recliner. Making her way toward the door, the redhead turned back to the group and swallowed thickly before saying, “I’m sorry for the trouble I may or may not have caused, but…  genuinely, thank you.”

“It’s nothing you wouldn’t do for us,” Vivien brushed off with a shrug.

Serena contemplated the statement momentarily, her gaze flitting around the room as she took a deep breath and allowed Vivien’s words to sink in. Whilst she was sure that, in some deep part of herself that she rarely ever investigated, she would agree with Vivien’s simple statement, Serena couldn’t bring herself to voice her thoughts. It did, however, give her something else to contemplate. Could she say the same about her so-called “bestie”? And, in turn, could Violet say the same about her?

Clearing her throat as she met Vivien’s emerald eyes, Serena muttered, “Still. Thanks.”

Vivien nodded as Royce and Bentley accepted the redhead’s statement. Not wanting to stay any longer than she already had, Serena jerked her head in a final, singular nod before turning on her heel, just barely snagging her keys by the initial keychain her mother had given her before scurrying out the door to find wherever she had left her car. Once the door was closed and Vivien was sure the redhead was far enough from the door that she wouldn’t hear her, she asked, “Did you guys really not see her car anywhere?”

“Nope,” Carrie claimed.

Miles chuckled, “I didn’t even look.”

“Chances are it’s at her house,” Mick claimed with a tired snicker.

Kona let out a snort as she began searching for the backpack she had chosen to use as a pillow during the night, “Wouldn’t be the first time she did something like that.”

Vivien hummed as she dragged herself over to the window seat she always claimed in the morning, searching for the shoes she knew she had ditched there at some point during their stay. She could remember a couple of different times when Serena’s car had “gone missing.” Despite only having the vehicle since her birthday back in May, Serena had forgotten where she had parked it more than once, resulting in her stepfather calling in some of his police friends to help search for it. More often than not, it was found within minutes, left in a parking spot she claimed she would never have used or in their garage as the redhead had forgotten she had gotten a ride with a friend, but there were a few times when the car had actually been towed away, and her family had to pay for its release from car jail.

With an amused smirk tugging at her lips, Vivien looked up as Kona called her name, “Yeah?”

“I slept on your dice last night,” Kona said from her spot on the floor, her backpack sitting open in her lap as she held a small, crushed velvet bag out for Vivien to see.

The pouch that Riven gave Vivien for her birthday a few years back had been passed around through their friend group as everyone took turns using the fancy dice within for different Dungeons and Dragons projects. Kona almost always used the dice for creating maps or, when she felt like it, a way to randomize her character creations for different games. Vivien's collection of dice was like a library to Kona - something for her to explore and borrow to her heart's content. However, the fact that the young blonde had slept on a myriad of pointy, oddly-shaped dice was something Vivien had to wonder if she had done before.

With a chuckle, Vivien shook her head and picked her shoes up from the floor as she stood, “Why am I not surprised?”

Watching the brunette place her shoes by the door and head back toward the window, Kona said, “Here, catch!”

Whirling around as the bag soared through the air, Vivien watched as the strings loosened, sending a couple of the crystalline dice tumbling out from their holster. With a gasp, she dropped her shoes and reached for the glittering dice, only to watch them come to a stop just above the hardwood floors. Peering up at her friend from her spot on the floor, Kona’s widened eyes found Vivien’s as they realized that the dice were now levitating a few inches above the floor, a hazy, amethyst glow shimmering around each individual die. Vivien glanced around at her friends, who had since turned from their conversations to see what had happened. Seeing as none of them had been watching, she realized that none of them could have been the one preventing her dice from hitting the floor.

Looking from the still-floating dice to Kona, Vivien softly asked, “Is that you?”

Slowly, Kona shook her head, “No, is it you?”

“How could it be me?” Vivien asked in return. “I don’t have magic anymore.”

“Well, if it’s not me,” Kona began, slowly shifting her gaze onto the other occupants of the room as she gestured to them, “and it wasn’t any of them, it has to be you.”

Vivien’s gaze shifted as she scanned over her friends, watching as their eyes slowly turned from Kona to the dice and, finally, onto her. Amazed confusion lined their faces, and while a part of her understood why, she wanted nothing more than for one of them to step up and help or, at the very least, admit that they were the one to use their magic to keep her dice from the hardwood. As she found his eyes, Vivien noticed that Bentley looked ready to step up and take the dice to keep her from worrying, but as Mick stood from the couch, he held himself back, leaving Vivien standing stock-still in an attempt to keep herself together. 

Hesitantly, Mick said, “Try putting them back in the bag without touching anything.”

Vivien’s head shook as her eyes widened, her fingers twitching anxiously at the thought of completing the challenge, “I don’t think I want to.”

Mick chuckled, “Yes, you do.”

Swallowing the growing pressure in her throat, Vivien shook her head once more, “If I drop these, not only will they break, but I’m pretty sure I will too, so no, I really don’t want to move them.”

Despite the smile on her face, Mick let out a sigh and shook her head before shifting her gaze onto the two boys who lingered just behind the couch. Gesturing for them to come over with a nod of her head, Mick took a step back as Royce and Bentley breezed by her to stand on either side of Vivien. Kona scrambled off the floor to join them, assuring Vivien she would only be there to step in if they needed her to before taking up the space Mick vacated.

Bentley placed a hand on Vivien’s arm with a smile, “You’ve got this Viv.”

“Just remember to breathe,” Royce added.

Vivien nodded slowly, taking in a breath before asking, “Together?”

“Always,” Kona agreed.

As ridiculous as it felt to be so concerned about dropping a handful of glow-in-the-dark resin dice, Vivien couldn’t help but feel as though she would pass out if the violet haze around the dice disappeared. Slowly, she forced herself to focus on the task at hand, watching as shades of gold, flickers of pink, and shimmers of blue melded together to form a galactic array of colors around each of the dice. Allowing her attention to split off from the dice, Kona jerked her wrist toward the floating bag and brought it closer to the group, a pink and blue nebula keeping the pouch open as rings of honey yellow, navy blue, and plum purple dropped the dice into their original confines. 

Once the dice had been returned to the small bag, Bentley snagged the bag out of the air and smiled as his eyes scanned over those present. “We did it,” he declared softly as the others rose from the couch to commend them.

“We did,” Royce echoed with a breathy laugh.

“But-” Vivien cut herself off with a disbelieving chuckle. “But how? I thought we gave up our magic.” 

As though a lightbulb had flickered on inside her head, Kona’s eyes lit up and she pushed her way through the gathering group, beelining for the kitchen. Bentley was quick to follow, weaseling his way past Miles and ducking under Carrie’s incoming hug with a quick apology as Kona stepped into the kitchen. Sharing a look and a simple shrug, Royce and Vivien were quick to follow, the older group following close behind and just entering the kitchen as Kona stated, “You guys lied about them giving up their magic, didn't you?”

Though the way the small blonde had worded her statement gave the adults very little room to argue, Dorothea found an easy way to avoid the topic as she smiled and said, “Well, good morning to you too, Kona.”

“Don’t dodge the question,” Kona huffed with a roll of her eyes. “You told them to give their magic to Carrie, Mick, and Miles, but they have magic this morning. Why did you say they were giving up all their magic?”

“Technically,” Dorothea began, “I didn’t.”

“You said the eclipse could make it permanent,” Vivien argued. "That was a big factor as to why you said to try other means first."

“But she never said it would be permanent,” Brady countered. “She only said it was a possibility.”

Mack smiled as she set her cup of tea down on the table, “It wasn't a full exchange of magic, therefore, you were never in any true danger of giving up your powers.”

Glancing down at his hands as though they were suddenly no longer his own, Miles peered at the girls on either side of him and softly asked, “Does that mean we don’t have magic anymore?”

“Oh, no,” Brady said with a shake of his head, taking a sip of his morning coffee. “You three should have your full powers just the same as the kids will after a few more hours.”

“But that doesn’t make sense,” Carrie claimed. “If the spell was for the kids to give their powers to us, shouldn’t only some of us have magic?”

“Only for twelve hours,” Dorothea claimed, setting the coffee pot back on the crochet pot holder she had made a few months back.

“Give or take,” Mack added.

“I'm lost,” Bentley muttered as he rubbed remnants of sleep from the corner of his eye.

“Yeah,” Mick began, confusion looping its way around her words. “We thought it was potentially permanent.”

“But it wasn’t,” Brady said. “Like when I gave away my magic, the spell wasn’t a one-and-done, permanent thing. I’m able to take it or leave it as I wish, and last night, you kids did something similar. The only difference is that your new magic should be permanent.”

“But what about us?” Royce pressed as he gestured to Vivien and Bentley. "I'm pretty sure we all can vividly remember the feeling of our magic leaving us, but now it's back. How does that make any sense?"

Dorothea pushed out her chair and stood as she explained, “During a lunar eclipse, magic can be drawn into a vessel for twelve hours. Normally, the vessel is an inanimate object and the magic will force its way back to the holder in full by the time the twelve hours have passed.”

“However,” Brady began, “since she gave you the spell to transfer your magic to another human being, the transfer left traces of magic inside of them, granting them just as much magic as you have, even after your magic returns to you.”

“Well,” Mack started, “as soon as the spell wears off, that is.”

Dorothea found herself smiling calmly as the eyes of her children and their friends landed on her. However, she couldn’t help the pang of hurt in her heart as Vivien softly asked, “Why didn’t you tell us that?”

Stepping forward with a gentle smile, Dorothea tried to placate the group as she stated, “I knew from experience that, if you truly believed that you would never have magic again, it would make those who inherited it from you feel as though they had to fight twice as hard to win the battle.”

Carrie scoffed a laugh as she recalled just how incinerated the commons looked after their fight with Serena had started, “It certainly worked.” 

“And, another thing,” Brady tacked on as he poured some creamer into his coffee, “if you believed your powers were gone forever, so would Serena.”

Dorothea nodded, shifting her gaze from Brady to the children before her as she spoke, “That meant she wouldn’t go after any of you and would only target her attack on the ones she believed had magic.”

“It saved you three from any potential danger,” Mack claimed.

As incredulous looks were shared and relieved sighs fell through exhausted lips, comments of disbelief flooded the kitchen as everyone attempted to force themselves into some form of normalcy. As Miles began pulling cups and plates from the cupboards for the others to take and Vivien muttered something about having a love-hate relationship with evil witches under her breath, Kona said, “I can’t believe we didn’t piece all of this together earlier.”

With a snicker he shared with his wife and childhood friend, Brady sipped his coffee and said, “As we said last night, you kids have a lot to learn.”

Dorothea nodded, a proud smile filling her features as she observed the group and said, "And we will be there to teach you."

#Melaka Mystica

[looniecartooni]

Okay- for over a decade now, I've thought about publishing a comic book series or graphic novel, but have never found the time, energy, or resources to get one off the ground. I've also been really nervous about exposing my writing despite coming up with multiple storylines in my life. I am planning to start a Kickstarter or something for at least one of them. I know I've pitched creative projects or theories before and haven't gone through with them, but I want to at least see what of things I have developed or began development on interests' people before I start anything.

So... I am going to start a poll. Maybe I'll make one free short comic before I dedicate myself to something that requires funding.

Descriptions below:

These Hands- A first person perspective from former Diamond Cutter infiltrator and later cause of their demise- Mimic the Octopus. See from when he first joined the Diamond Cutters and follow into his fall from grace. Will his plights be sympathetic or shall he be forever scorned by himself and his actions?

A full storyboard draft has already been created for a one-shot story. If chosen, it may take between a couple weeks to over a month to release (depending on my college schedule)

Henchmen for Hire- A cowardly magician with the power of luck on her side (and her Eldrich terrain shifter best friend) are stuck in their jobs as Henches for Hire for random Elites and criminals of their world, escapading on dangerous quests through ancient caves to find mysterious power sources and ancient treasures. While life is fairly comfortable (despite them having to live in a cave themselves because how can you live in a nice place when you're stuck in such a shady business?), the past is catching up to them, and one of them has a knife. Can these two ever live without the fear of being alone and helpless when nothing but danger plagues their lives?

This series is one of the ones I am currently working on and its still very early in development. It may take a couple months, maybe even a year to complete. There are maybe 3 stories and 5 or 6 plot points planned out. But I'm having a lot of fun with it and do hope to make something off it some day.

Experimental Living- A mad geneticist and engineer finally returns home from his stay in prison and is ready to wreak havoc on the world with his new genetic experiments. However, things do not go as planned and in order to keep his cover as a "reformed" villain, he must raise them as if they were his children, which the 10-year-old and 6-year-old are more than happy with. With help from his Henchmen, constant harassment from his mystic and militant father, and suspecting eyes of heroes and citizens, will this evil villain turned single dad ever succeed in his violent plans to save the world?

I storyboarded almost the entire series and a sequel series for this for almost a full year. There are still many parts that need to be tweaked or rewritten as there are gaps and maybe some problematic elements, but this could be something that could get started sometime in the Summer. I want to be able to fund it, but I don't have the elements to do so at the moment and I'm afraid the premise is a bit too close to the idea of a Starline, Surge, and Kit AU. Though it is more loosely inspired by them with a lot more to it than that, I don't know if I might run into some copyright issues if I go through with it, no matter how loosely the characters or premise are to their inspirations.

Journey of Eclipse- The Light had fended off the Darkness for hundreds of years, constantly sealing it in a cave to protect the world from his curse. Now, a child born from the Light and conceived by the Darkness must tread on a perilous journey to save his mother from the curse that now finally firmed its grasp on her. But this story is not so black and white, and the circumstances that lead to the birth of such a child may have a much more deep-rooted tale than what has been told.

I had this idea back in High School and recently revisited it. I would imagine that it would be a rather short series or graphic novel, but may need a few months to fully get a good narrative out of it. There is a clear beginning, middle, and end, but much more needs to be fleshed out and reconfigured to tell a well thought out tale.

Angel Story- A long time ago, super soldiers known as "angels" were created to protect villages from strange dark entities referred to as "demons" or "shadows". With the dark entities seemingly vanished, the angels and their children were now declared to be the protectors against criminals and symbols of order. However, new chaos arises as these angels are seemingly vanishing, or getting corrupted by a similar energy to that of the shadows which should be impossible. Now a new crew of angels must try and stop these new monsters and the energies that are driving them.

Only one plotline of this supposed to be short series has been fully developed, but it's fun to work on and reread the storyboards for. It may take a few months give or take to fully start, but I feel it will be a fun read when worked out to its full potential.

I have quite literally cabinets full of stories that I have created since freshman year of high school and have on and off worked on quite a few. There are some others that I am currently working/reworking on such as a superhero trying to find out what happened to her superhero dad while being raised by her evil uncle. Feel free to ask for more information on any of these projects or any other projects. I've been too scared to bring them up or publish any creative projects because of being overwhelmed with school and fear of possible backlash. But I'd be happy to share anything people might want to ask about- I want to know if I could actually do this or if this is one of those dreams I've got to just put on the back burner.

I'll still create just random fan stuff for BBU and things like that. I did try to start a videogame/visual novel last year, but that never truly got really developed or much attention. I might work on other different kinds of projects in the future when I have the time, money, and energy (or stop making excuses). But for now- let me know what you guys think (very kindly) and if you'd ever wat to see an independent project created by me. If not- that's fine too, just please be nice if you think this isn't a good idea.

If no one chooses anything- that's fine too. I'd probably still do something eventually or try my shot again with other pitches. I welcome any advise for creating, publishing, self-publishing, legally making money or legally getting money to make something, ect. I'll be posting on other social medias as well. Let me know your thoughts (nicely and constructively). Thank you.

#my writing #writing advice #advertising myself #sonic idw #writing pitches #my art

[avoidantrecovery]

AvPD & The Relational Self

There is one core aspect of AvPD that get's severely ignored imo, and which might be a key to actually solving it: The Relational Self. I'll be quoting from this article (Some people feel so utterly alone it’s as if they don’t exist by Kristine Dahl Sørensen) a lot, because I've been thinking about it a lot.

What is the Relational Self?

It's essentially the part of ourselves that forms in relation to others. We all grow up getting feedback from those around us, parents, friends, teachers, bosses etc... And this feedback reflects back on who we are, who we become and who we understand ourselves to be. It is vital for forming a fully-fledged "self" that is able to independently interact and go through life. We develop it through in person interaction with other humans, it completes us.

Most of all, we believe that our findings underline how the way we humans come to be ourselves is always relational, [...] We grow and develop our sense of self in interplay with others; through acting, reacting, talking, telling, and listening. Source

What does this have to do with AvPD?

My belief is that us with AvPD never actually managed to form this Relational Self properly. Something went wrong as we were growing up and derailed us from our path. And there are many reasons: overly critical parents, peer rejection and bullying, discrimination, any kind of abuse that is relational and focused on a person's self essentially. Our skills to interact healthily and properly either wither or don't have the chance to form in the first place.

I think that then also breaks with our ability to relate to our selves and others, we form anxieties, shame, avoid relational activities, mask and pretend, spiral into depression.

For those who struggle to participate in these exchanges, the self that doesn’t become shared can become unknown, unnamed and hidden, frightful and considered as something that can’t be accepted or trusted. Source

And then we are left as empty husks of ourselves, unable to relate and interact truthfully (without masking) with other people. It's not even that we are lying, it just feels empty without a mask. We as AvPD's lack(ed) something pretty crucial that Sørensen puts very well:

Aloneness was more than loneliness. They longed for something never experienced: the felt sense of being yourself through another person. Source

Conclusion

And I think I can truthfully say that this is true for me. I have had periods where I've had friends, but because I always mask (without knowing it) they don't know me. Hell, I don't know me, as dramatic as that sounds. And sooner or later I ghost, because pretending is exhausting.

I have come to close to experiencing myself through someone else, but I've always avoided (lol) it. Because the fear is that there is nothing here to see or experience. I remember when I had little crushes and they gave even a hint of reciprocating, aside from gently rejecting them or self-sabotaging, I always wondered: What do they see in me? This was not low self-esteem, because ironically enough I have quite high self-esteem (not sure how that works either tbh). I just genuinely did not know what it was they exactly wanted or saw in me. I was empty and they would find that out eventually and be disappointed. And I think that this feeling of emptiness, that drives all our other avoidant actions, is an atrophied Relational Self.

It also explains the infamous symptom list that I always found harsh and kind of not helpful. All those things on that list (whether it be the ICD or DSM-5 one) all lead to the Relational Self issue.

Now, the question is, how do I heal with Relational Self? Does this make sense to anyone else?

#avpd #avoidant personality disorder #avoidant #relational self #kristine dahl sorensen #trauma #cptsd #anxiety #depression #shame #self isolation #ok to reblog #lonliness

[swifty-fox]

okay so I’m not going to go into any details here but I just finished “what comes after” and oh. my. god. you captured the feelings of the person on the other end perfectly.

for me it wasn’t anyone as close as a husband, and I wasn’t there to see it, but they texted me one evening and I swear I just knew. and I knew they were in a pretty bad place, but I don’t think anyone had realized just how bad, and I have so many mixed feelings about all of it? And you somehow managed to write that and make it so tragic and so beautiful and. I don’t even know what I’m trying to say here. I guess I just wanted to say thank you? Thank you for treating the subject so delicately and so fairly and thank you for adding the part about Curt and how he’s there to help and I know it’s “just” fanfiction, but I need you to know how much of an impact it had on me.

so. yeah. thank you. and I’m sorry to spring this on you just like this (if it makes you uncomfortable I’m so sorry! please don’t feel like you have to respond!), I swear I’m not saying any of this to make you feel bad for me or anything. my friend is in a much better place and everything is okay. call this the incoherent ramblings of a person who should’ve gone to bed hours ago now. thank you. thank you thank you thank you thank you <3

theres three experiences in my life I pulled from for this fic

my little brother has been to a psych ward three times in my life, two in the last two years. The second time (March 2023) he called me the day before in great spirits and laughing about a childhood memory. Next day I receive a call that He's going to the hospital, drugs were involved but nobody knew anything more because he's an adult. We heard no news, couldn't contact him for Three Days. We had no idea what happened or how bad things were.

In the aftermath my baby sister and I had to drive into the city to pick his car up and bring it to my parents. She's a freshman in college and was too young to really remember my brothers first time in (I was twenty and she was twelve) and so I had to be the older sibling and tell her to rely on me. To brace herself that this probably would not be the end of the storyline with his mental health issues and she had to make peace with it and to protect herself how she could while still being there for him. I had to put my shit aside for my her and my mom and my dad. Had to be Gale.

At the same time I was fresh off a devastating breakup. I reached out that night to the ex because I thought we were still friends and got brushed off. While driving to get that damn car all i wanted was what my brain thought was my ride or die support system to be there helping me through this. All i wanted was a Curt and I didn't have one. So i gave Gale what i needed via Curt. Someone to pick up the pieces.

My grandmother passed away due to complications from colon cancer in 2020. She came down with an infection that ate away her intestines to nothing in the span of a weekend. I sat on the phone with her six states away as she lay dying on her bathroom floor. My Grandma who was my best friend my namesake wordlessly crying in my ear from pain. And I just remember thinking nobody fucking gave me the instruction manual for this. I went to bed once the ambulance came, thinking she would be okay. And by the time I woke up she was gone. And I've worked my feelings of that out through a previous fic but I definitely reached back into that experience to remember that headspace

I've been on both ends. I almost ended my life several times last year and I'm really fuckin glad I didn't cause I am having so much fun with you guys

#suicide tw #death tw #not related to the suicide tag #swiftytalks #that is to say thank you anon it means the fucking WORLD my stuff resonates

[danpuff-ao3]

Top 5. Fanfic authors :) Or if you feel like it: Top 10

Ooh hello hello! Thanks for the ask! Also for the "more" allowance, as I'm notoriously bad at staying within the allowable number of anything 😂 More is more!! I'll make a solid effort to stay within 5 if I can, so let's see!

perverse_idyll (@perverse-idyll): Longtime fave. As in...when was The White Road first posted? '08, '09? Since then, essentially. I read TWR and was sold and I've been sold ever since. PI is such a thoughtful, sharp, crafty, passionate writer. More than that, we are very closely aligned in how we see the characters and dynamics and she writes in a way that feels so honest and true to who they are. All of her work is so gorgeous and real and forever strikes a chord in my soul. All the better now that I can call her friend and know that she's just as fabulous a human as she is a writer! :)

Writcraft (@writcraft): Another writing crush turned friend! They have written so many incredible stories across multiple pairings, though in the beginning I only read Snarry of course! They have such a great variety, not only with fandoms and ships, but genres, from darker and angstier works (Tangled Web, Dirge Without Music) to more wholesome and romantic stories (Friends of Dorothy, Luck of the Draw.) I love their focus on different types of relationships, and especially appreciate the dedication to queer themes that feels both celebratory and validating, for all of the joy and hurt of the queer experience. (How We Were Warriors for queer themes & history, A Life Worth Remembering for polyamory.) And the boldness in some works that feel more experimental and different (Breathless for a poetic second person POV, Birdsong for the creepy horror.)...If I remember correctly, Hector's Arms was my first Writ fic and I clicked on their profile and happily gorged myself on their other works. And found not only fics I didn't know I needed, and have reread time and again (Broken Promises, Shattered Dreams; A Lion's Heart; Loved You a Long Time), but also one of my favorite fics in general, The Beating of This Fragile Heart!

Arrisha (@arrisha-ao3): Brilliant, brilliant writer! Also a ruthless sadist I'm pretty sure. I am deeply in awe of the emotional devastation she leaves in her wake. The brutal angst of it all is truly, truly admirable, my hat is off to her for that. And while Ab Intra, Ab Extra and The Syntax of Things are brilliant...I am extra in love with her shorter works, Loose Ends and Molly's Advice. I like to think I'm an angst lover, but woo-boy does Arrisha make me wanna grab a white flag sometimes. She knows just where to pull on those heartstrings and strangle you with them. (I feel like this is coming across as both rude and terrifying, but I could not be gushing more, I swear.)

drawlight | ripeteeth (@foxconfessorandthewolf): Though their works aren't currently online right now, still a favorite. The Forest King!! I loved that fic. The Lighthouse Keeper...Strange Pilgrims...Suspiria...so many goodies. Their writing is truly phenomenal (even their original writings I had a peek at!) The stunning and vivid and gritty prose, that manages to be both poetic and sharp as a knife. GOD. Killer writing. 10/10. I have their works saved to my Kindle 🙏 And I'm always excited when I see their works on AO3 again! Have to mention them since they are truly one of the best and I have all the love for them AND their work!!

eldritcher: Their work is so strange, and in the most unique and lovely of ways. "Strange" can seem so rude but I know they know what I mean by it! They craft their works with such purpose and thoughtfulness and with such great love for words and imagery and mythology. All of their works are ripe with meaning, and strung together with such artistic precision! There is nothing out there like eldritcher's works, I swear, and I am in LOVE with what they do. I discovered their work through @consistentsquash's rec for The Tumtum Tree and had to devour what more I could find! Dithyramb, Pasiphaë, Ariel, and other great snarries! I am eagerly awaiting the final chapter of The Lamb of Tartary! Then other interesting tales and ships in The Dream of the Fisherman's Wife, Plenitude, Exaltation, Once of Eden. I am so amazed of their mind and their craft and am forever excited to see what else they're working on!!

I could probably carry on with more, but I think that makes for a nice solid Top 5 list...😅 Though if it bothers me too much I'll come back later to reblog with more 👀 Goodness knows I've read a lot and there are many creators I admire so so much!! 😌

#asked & answered #top 5 fic writers #very uncool fangirl squeeing

[chiveburger]

Hi Candice! I’ve been following you for ages now so it felt like in some way, we were navigating through life side by side but now I’ve gotten to my late twenties and….its not what I really expected. I hope this doesn’t make hard moments you’ve already gone through reopen and if it does I completely understand why you wouldn’t answer this but…how did you go about being unemployed for awhile? I’m starting to struggle mentally and I just need some sort of real guidance or words. My mom isn’t really making it easy either and I don’t expect it from her but it feels like she wants me to feel these negative emotions that are naturally connected to being jobless which kind of adds to my already pent up pressure I put on myself but yeah…Apart from that, I’m glad you still post and your vlogs are so cute. You’re like sunshine!

I'm very honored that you have followed me for so long, and feel open enough to ask me this question. I definitely look back at the time when I was unemployed, and actively avoiding the job market as something that was necessary to me as an individual. I'm sure you already know, but the novelty of not having a structure routine and not getting paid wears off quickly and it's very easy to delve into depression or negative emotions when times goes by. I stopped working for 2 years during covid, and when I started applying and looking again it was a very daunting hill to climb. I would feel dejected if I didn't get a job, but also conflicted when I did get an interview for something I felt overqualified for. I was stuck in this slump where I had things I wanted to do but not enough credentials. at the same time I wasn't putting enough time into my "hobbies" to really make it a career.

the first piece of advice I can give you, albeit tacky, is that you are absolutely not alone. the emotions you're feeling are justified, and it's not an easy place to be without a solid foundation of support both emotionally and financially. two little quotes that continues to help me through difficult periods of time is that "life is fluid" and "nothing you do is ever in vain." we're not always where we want to be, doing what we want to do, but things can change and things will get better. your life is not defined by the time that you're unemployed, and while it's hard to envision your future amidst darkness, the darkest hour is just before dawn. all the steps you're taking and decide to take will lead you to different opportunities and experiences, regardless of them being good or bad I implore you to reach out and try, no matter how scary because you'll never know what road it'll take you.

sometimes you are met with harsh words and critique about your choices but I look back on the ones that came from those who love me and wish better for me, and I thank them for not just consoling me but pulling me out of the hole I was stuck in. my best friend told me that she didn't want me to look back in regret, and to wait for an outcome I wasn't actively putting energy to. she told me to go home and write down what I wanted to do, curate a plan, and to do something everyday even if it was small. ultimately, it took a long time for me to open up to the idea of working again and I made a lot of excuses not to. I took up an offer for my current job close to 2 years ago without any expectations, and I've accomplished much more than I could've imagined. I know what path I want to take and how to get there, and I have a lot of people who believed in me, who praised me, who supported me to thank. In return, I can be the one to believe in you, to praise you, and to support you in your journey too.

I've been in the exact position that you're in and it's very hard, and there are many times where you'll feel very bad but please remember there will always be second chances, third chances, fourth chances. don't be afraid to apply to places outside of your comfort zone, and know that everytime you get rejected it's okay to feel defeated and unhappy. even the bad experiences will potentially lead you to the right people and the right place. so, don't give up because doors will always open for you, even the ones that are locked.

#Anonymous