#<- just housekeeping tags for myself

[archituck]

literally had the most amazing time of my life seeing KGLW live w/ @arrowmntic in Portland tonight. i love them so much they are so funny and cool it was a true dream :,) :,)

[ourlordapollo]

Forcing myself to quit editing this before I go crazy 😁 Happy AAPI Heritage Month from your local Nikkei 🎇🇯🇵

My friends and I did an AA photoshoot in a dead mall and it was super fun! I'm hoping to use this summer to corral more of an in-person AA fandom presence in the Pacific Northwest

[beasttrash]

i love reading the tags on fan art that makes a joke that is somewhat inconsistent with the canon where its like "yeah i looked it up on the wiki, the exact dates and everything, but i thought it would be funnier if i wrote it this way."

[anisespice]

“ block boy ” || tokyo rev.

parings: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, kaku, sanzu, rin, ran ]

warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. cursing, mentions of violence, blood, pregnancy mentioned in ran’s, a lot of down bad behavior on both ends lol and i think that’s it.

notes: i pledge allegiance to doechii, and the absolute banger of a song that is “what it is”. literally the first thing i thought of was bonten and couldn’t get ‘em out of my head unless i wrote something down sooo here ya go lol 

notes ii: basically times where you pulled their weight when they least expected you to/when they’re not around. called the shots, took some shots, beat someone up, defended them, loving on them, stuff like this (•3•>)

tagged: @fantasycantasy, @illegalspacecow, @captaincyberqueen

“Did the severity of the situation finally click in your thick skulls, or do I have to waste more of my breath spelling it out for you?”

When MIKEY returned from his much needed evening snooze in the break room you threatened sweetly advised him to take after working for 17 hours straight, he was expecting to return to the shitstorm he left behind. However, when he entered his office, to his muted surprise there you were, in the middle of berating a handful of subordinates nearly twice your size, all shrunk within themselves as your sharp tone pierced through them all. He stood in the doorway with a curious gaze, head tilted ever so slightly as he made sure to keep quiet so not to notify you of his presence.

Mikey took note of your hip popped outward, balled fist rested upon it in the stance he knew all too well whenever you were on your last nerve. Knowing what those idiots did, someone was bound to stumble outta there in tears; your fury wasn’t for the weak.

You eyed the group with raised brows, expectant. “Well?”

One member was brave, or stupid enough to actually answer. He hesitated, but cleared his throat and replied, “I-It was an honest mistake…we thought the product was secured in the truck already when we made the exchange, b-but-”

“B-B—Bullshit. You were given specific instructions to check the inventory to make sure those smarmy assholes weren’t trying pull a fast one, and you were too careless to do a full sweep. You failed abortions not only made Bonten look like complete amateurs, but you added more nonsense for my man to deal with all because you didn’t check the back of the goddamn trucks!”

You flung the clipboard you were holding at the guy’s head, making them all duck around to avoid getting hit, only one unlucky sucker wasn’t as quick as the wooden projectile got him right in the nose. He yelped, no doubt it was broken with the sheer amount of force you put in the throw. Mikey barely flinched, but he did blink a few times in astonishment.

“You’re gonna hunt those fuckers down like dogs and make right of your ‘mistake’ by the end of today, or I’m gonna have Sanzu chop you into pieces and throw you in the Shinano River-!” Mikey cleared his throat.

You swiftly looked over your shoulder at the noise, mood doing a complete 180 when you locked eyes with the object of your affection, skittering over to wrap him in your arms. “Oh! Jiro, baby, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“‘s okay..” he leaned into your warmth, eyes hooded as he graced you with a faint, sleepy grin. “Didn’t want to interrupt your.. meeting. Seemed serious.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Just doing a little ‘housekeeping’ until you got enough rest, that’s all.”

He slowly nodded, lips pursed. “Could’ve sworn I pay good money for people to do that for me.”

“You do, but I was already here. Figured it was more productive to handle it myself rather than waste time looking for someone available. Besides, had to make sure you didn’t try to sneak your narrow butt back in here to continue working—We both know I’m the only one around here who can keep you in check.”

He couldn’t argue with that.

“Mm.. can’t say you don’t fill the role of boss rather nicely. It suits you. Should have you do it more often.”

Though you were sure he was teasing you, you couldn’t help but feel yourself grow warm at his praise. You lightly hit his arm, bashful. How this was the same woman who struck fear in a room full of criminals was beyond comprehension, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Speaking of which.. Mikey couldn’t help but notice the said group of subordinates silently begging for him to reconsider in his peripheral, hands clasped in prayer while the one with the busted nose bowed deeply to the floor, forehead to hardwood. It was as if the idea of you being in charge any longer brought them great despair. How interesting.

Huffing through his nose, Mikey placed a loving kiss on your forehead whilst eyeing the group behind majority of his stress for the day, void of any remorse as he coldly spoke.

“Matter of fact.. think ‘m still feeling a little tired, angel. How about you handle another hour f’me? Or two?”

The silence was deafening as the dual-color eyed man avoided looking at you while you stitched him up without a word. When you were greeted by a bleeding KAKUCHO at your doorstep a little past midnight, pale in the face and could barely stand, there were no questions asked as you quickly escorted him into your home, setting him gently on the couch before you sprung for your first aid in the kitchen. He wasn’t sure what he could say in that moment, feeling like a complete moron for even showing up looking like he fled a crime scene which he kinda did but that’s besides the point. Your relationship was still in the budding phase, just starting to get a feel of one another as you tested the waters.

Well, consider the waters tested.

“You’re not really an undercover cop, are you?”

Kakucho gulped. He slowly shook his head, eyes trained on his lap while yours felt like they were burning holes right through him. You nodded as you continued carefully stitching him up. It wasn’t the best, but it would hold him over until he got proper medical attention. At first, he figured that would be all you said to him. But, when you completed dressing the wound, you asked a follow up question. “It’s something illegal, isn’t it?”

He couldn’t bring himself to answer, his strained grip on his pant leg enough response. Kakucho half expected you to berate him, curse him for potentially endangering your life, for lying.

“.. forgive me..” he croaked, bowing his head.

He felt sick to his stomach, he couldn’t bear the thought of you despising him, but he’d honor your wishes without protest if you never wanted to see him again…

However, what he didn’t expect was for you cup the sides of his face and bring his wavering gaze to your soft one. You smiled endearingly at the bewilderment that overcame his ashamed expression, him blinking at you widely with tears hanging onto his lashes like a wounded puppy. Your thumb ghosted over the tiny droplets, careful not to aggravate the bruise forming around the socket.

Leaning forward to shower him with tender kisses, Kakucho was at a crossroad—One side wanted nothing more than to melt into a puddle of goo, but the other refused to believe that he wasn’t hallucinating, waiting for the sick twisted punchline of this dream come true. Feeling him still so tense in your hold, you leaned back with your smile still present.

“This doesn’t change how I feel about you, Hitto.”

Kakucho blinked. Then, he meekly replied. “W-what?”

You coyly tilted your head, “To be honest, I always figured there was something…off about you. Like, you were holding something back. My first guess was that you were seeing other women-”

“Never.” His eyes switched from uncertain to stern in a matter of seconds, as if the implication alone repulsed him. He softened once you giggled at his declaration, patting his leg in reassurance.

“I know. You’re much too sweet to be a player. I pondered over it for a while, thought back to how we usually met up late at night, or you would have to leave at odd times. My second guess was your work just kept you really busy.. and after tonight.. after all of this,” you gestured at the blood stains everywhere, “safe to say I was on the right track.”

Kakucho hesitated. “And that doesn’t…put you off?”

“That you’re a thug?” He winced, but nodded. The silence that followed behind was borderline suffocating, leaving his hands sweaty and nerves shot as he anticipated your response with baited breath. But, he didn’t need to worry.

With a loving coo, you placed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, right over the split in his lip causing him to flinch slightly at the sting, but he welcomed the affection all the same. However, when your warm tongue peeked out to soothe the cut in slow, teasing swipes, homie nearly choked.

Kaku’s jaw fluttered open as a soft gasp escaped him next, the sensation foreign but not unpleasant as he felt his entire face heat up like a furnace. Your sudden proximity forced him back on the couch while you slid down to the floor betwixt his spread legs, making his head spin; this wasn’t going like how he thought it would at all. Being careful of his stitches, your arms rested on either side of him as your tongue explored his mouth, making him groan softly at the feeling of the wet muscle tangling around his so earnestly, hand reaching up instinctively to caress the side of your face as he deepened the kiss. His other hand held your waist, gripping your shirt as if he couldn’t believe you were there—That you wanted to stay.

The ravenette’s breath hitched when he felt one of your hands trailing up his thigh, slowly but surely making your way to his stiffening cock confined in his pants. Slightly startled, Kakucho pulled back from the heated kiss, a string of saliva still keeping you connected as you panted in each other’s mouths. Before he could question what you were up to, he cuts himself off with a whimper when you palmed his thick shaft while maintaining intense eye contact, a smile on your face as you sent the gangster into paradise when you sweetly whispered:

“Always wanted to be a ride or die.”

It was as if someone pushed him into an alternate dimension.

Not even moments ago, you were showing SANZU a cute tiktok of a kitten wrapped up like a burrito and mewing dramatically, nearly tearing up at the sight as you tugged on his arm and pleaded for him to buy you one just like it. Having bought out the entire evening in one of Tokyo’s most exclusive five star restaurants for your anniversary, Sanzu figured it’d be nothing more than a simple night with his lovely wife. Man’s must’ve forgot who he was.

When those fools tried an ambush on him, Sanzu was more than happy dealing with them quickly by just airing them out until his gun was empty. Although, as he went reaching for it, imagine his shock when you held his wrist to stop him. You had a different sentiment.

It was like a scene out of one of his most crazed fantasies. His lovely wife, holding his beloved katana to an enemy’s throat, covered in the blood of his comrades as he sobbed pathetically for you to spare him. As if Beatrix Kiddo entered the chat, you sliced into them with a swiftness, shredding through them all like paper; a dinner and a show. He wasn’t sure when you learned how to wield the weapon with such grace and precision, but he couldn’t care less when his pants were this fucking tight. But he couldn’t let you have all the fun, watching your six any time a goon tried to get the jump on you while your back was turned, Sanzu was quick to bust a cap right between their eyes. After spilling gallons of blood from the opposition, leaving one still standing, you decided to play with him a little bit.

“P-Please! I-if you let me go, you’ll never see my face again, I-I swear! I was just..just following orders, I-”

“Oh, c’mon, where’s your conviction from earlier, huh? You were so confident before I minced all your friends. What was it you said you’d do to me once you killed my husband? Can’t seem to put my finger on it…Haru, darling, do you recall?”

Sanzu, with his chin placed atop his interlocked fingers like a smitten fool, smoothly answered, “Said he’d ‘Fuck you raw on top of my corpse’.”

You winked. “Bingo. Thank you, handsome.”

“Welcome, gorgeous.”

The sniveling man yipped when the blade nicked his skin, a thin stream of blood flowing in its wake as you pressed it closer to his throat. His heart rate paced like a rabbit caught in a trap, nostrils flaring as he breathed sporadically while his life laid in the palm of your hand.

“Guess that didn’t go according to plan, aw.” You sardonically cooed, spurring on a bit of rage as he gritted out a dry ‘Fuck you’ in his final efforts of showing dominance. “Oo, there’s that passion we were missing!~ Let’s see how much more I can carve outta yo-”

Hearing the sound of faint sirens in the distance, Sanzu clicked his tongue in annoyance. With a grumble the pinkette popped a piece of his steak in his mouth and spoke between chews as he cocked his gun, “Alright, [_____], playtime’s over. We gotta haul ass.”

You pouted. “But, we didn’t get to fuck on top of his corpse...”

Sanzu swallowed, hard. He couldn’t help but internally groan with desire at your innocent display of vulgarity, tempted to take you up on that offer, but the last thing he wanted was for you to be involved in a standoff with the cops. You’ve proven you can handle yourself very well, a lot more than he realized that’s for sure, but you were still his precious baby at the end of the day.

Better to keep you out of danger than thrust you in more of it, no matter how much the thought excited him.

“Next time, pretty baby.”

You huffed. “Fine.”

Without hesitation, you strummed the man’s throat like a cello, the katana tearing through the skin with ease. The symphony of gurgles that escaped him sent shivers down Sanzu’s spine as he watched in manic glee as the man choked on his own blood. You never looked more stunning covered in red and holding his blade like it belonged in your hand, he wanted nothing more than to ravish you on the spot, but as the sirens drew near he tamed his urges just this once. You took his extended hand gratefully, swaying them as you both rushed for the restaurant’s back exit.

Once outside, while he scoped out the area for any cops patrolling, you nudged him. When he turned to see you beaming at him whilst blood stained your face, he swore his heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“You’re getting me a kitten to make up for this, right, Haru?”

He raised a brow, but exhaled a chuckle. “Sweetheart. Show off that violent side of yours more often, and you can have as many as you want.”

“You good, ma?” A delightful shiver ran down your spine and straight to your pussy.

That was always the visceral response your body had whenever RINDOU spoke, especially low and intimately in your ear. From either gently waking you first thing in the morning, or to secretly shit-talk in crowed areas, it was his go-to method to getting your attention effortlessly. A dangerous method, one that was about to make you act up in front of all these important clients, decorum be damned.

“I am now,” you purred, falling back into his embrace as strong arms came vining around your waist. He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple as he gently swayed you both to the rhythm of the soft jazz playing over the speakers of the ballroom.

“Missed me that bad, huh.” You nodded with a slight pout, turning in his hold to stare up longingly into his eyes. They were lidded, heady. Another dangerous method of your husband’s that made you weak in the knees—his undivided attention. “Bored?”

“So fucking bored,” you whined, tugging on his lapels. “These things are always such a drab..”

Rindou hummed, hands slowly slipping down from your waist to hold your hips. You tensed slightly, not even bothering to mask the second shiver it caused. His grin turned sharp in response, head tilting. “Ya sure that’s what has you so out of it?”

You tilted yours, confused. He continued, “You’re not as subtle as you think you are. You’ve been eye-fucking me for the past ten minutes. Came over to make sure you weren’t dripping all over the damn floor—”

“Shut up,” you jabbed him in the side, face boiling. Rindou barely flinched, squeezing your hips as he snickered cheekily at your embarrassment. “You’re so irking...”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. If you knew I was horny, I could’ve been folded on my back ten minutes ago.”

“Hm, almost as if I was doing something important, like…” he trailed off, making you squint and almost jab him again until he grabbed your hand in the last second, bringing it to his chest with a smug grin, “working.”

You huffed, “I’m important too…do me.”

Rindou snorted, but brought your hand up to gently kiss the inside of your wrist with a tender look in his eyes. “‘course you are, baby. Didn’t know it would go for this long, ‘m sorry.”

“Then, how ‘bout you and I take a little…smoke break,” you suggested, hopeful; desperate. However, it’s futile when your husband clicks his tongue.

“No can do. Kakucho’s still not over the last time we took a ‘smoke break’ together.”

“He’s not? Seriously? We weren’t even gone for that long!”

He raised a brow. “[______]. The check made it back to the table before we did.”

You groaned, exasperated as you wiggled around in his hold. Rindou merely watched in mirth, not even phased as he let you finish your tiny tantrum. He teasingly cooed, “I know, I know. Poor thing can’t go a day without something plugging up her slutty little hole.”

“Shut up..!” You shrunk into his chest to hide away from the sultry words spoken directly in your ear, thighs clenching together as his deep chuckle came soon after.

Rindou was very much aware of your voice kink. It filled his ego to the brim with how needy you were, crumbling anytime he so much as spoke to you in a certain way. There’s nothing he wanted more than to ditch and bury himself in your thighs, giving it to you however you wished, for as long as you wished, whispering praises to you with a sprinkle of degradation in there to keep you craving for more of his soothing voice. But, unless he wanted his nuts handed to him on a silver platter by his stickler of a superior, you were just gonna have to wait.

And he knew how much you hated doing that.

“Ten minutes.”

He sighed. “[_____]…”

“Five minutes?”

“We can’t-“

“A minute, god, I don’t even have to finish, Rin, please.” You whined in his ear, forcing him to close his eyes as a means to strengthen his resolve. It didn’t do much help when your arms wrapped around his neck to gently rake your manicured nails against the nape, your thigh deliberately rubbing up against the growing erection confined in his dress pants. The tables had turned with a shiver now running down his spine, mind turning to mush as common sense slowly sunk into his dick. Maybe…sparing just a few minutes wouldn’t hurt.

Even though the lavender-haired gangster couldn’t see your face, he was certain you were grinning victoriously at the sound of his resolve breaking instantly, the slow exhale through his nose being all the confirmation necessary. Clearly, you weren’t the only one who was needy.

Swallowing down a groan, he hissed through clenched teeth, “You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know that?”

Giggling, you were already leading him toward the nearest exit, swiftly evading the eyes of his coworkers, satisfied that you were getting exactly what you wanted in the end.

“Better me than Kaku.”

“Like I’ve already explained to you, Officer. My husband’s been here all day. Dunno if you’ve noticed, but he can’t exactly afford to leave my side for more than ten minuets let alone an entire evening.”

Despite gesturing to your swollen stomach and the small child shyly peering from behind your leg, the cop still fixed you with a skeptical look. You did your best to remain unnerved, providing comfort for not only your son but yourself as you ran your fingers through his hair. Apparently, there had been a shootout that happened in the streets of Tokyo, and apparently a witness was able to describe one of the shooters…

Henceforth, the unexpected visit from law enforcement. Again.

“Mhm. And, may I ask, where exactly your husband is now? Surely if he’s been tending to his pregnant wife, he wouldn’t have her answering the front door.” He raised an eyebrow, wry grin stretched across his face.

You worked your jaw, annoyed. “In the shower.”

“How convenient. Washing off the blood, I assume?”

“You can assume whatever you want, it doesn’t change my answer. He’s been here, with us. Whoever said they saw him was mistaken. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got mouths to feed. Have an evening, Officer.”

“Now, hold on—”

Without an ounce of hesitation, or care, you slammed the door in his smug little face. And just like that…blissful silence. A grand weight lifted off your shoulders at the disgruntled sound of the pig’s flat-footed steps exiting out of your day. Releasing a slow exhale, your son took it upon himself to blow a raspberry at the closed door, having worked up the courage to mock the officer now that he was out of sight.

You grinned as you ruffled his hair, endearingly. “You tell ‘em, baby.”

However, that silence didn’t last long as RAN made himself known now that the coast was clear. Having hid around the corner in case things escalated, he too released an exhale, easy grin spreading across his face. Though your child was happy to see him, racing to cling onto his long legs, you merely glared in disapproval. Based off his appearance alone, disheveled and glistening with sweat, you wished your fib from earlier was true; he needed a shower.

“[S/n], don’t touch daddy right now…he stinks.”

Though a bit childish in your phrasing, Ran was well aware it held an underlying meaning, a chill running down his spine under your harsh scrutiny. He cleared his throat, somewhat nervous, as he searched his brain for honeyed words that would soothe your soreness toward him. And he laid it on thick.

“That’s ‘cause Daddy had to run the rest of the way home to make sure his babies were safe,” he leaned down to scoop up the clinging child, lightly tickling at his stomach poking out from under his pajama shirt to receive more joyous squeals. “But, Mommy scared away the big, mean police man all on her own, didn’t she?”

“Yea!” [S/n] squeaked, bright laugh bouncing off the walls as he wiggled around eagerly. You felt the corner of your lip twitch upward at the sight, but you pursed your lips to hide the impending smile—Ran noticed. He always did.

“Yeah.. we’re real lucky to have someone as wonderful as her to watch our backs whenever we’re in trouble.. right, mama?”

Your glare still remained, though not as harsh compared to moments ago. Despite the mirth swirling in his lavender gaze, you took note of something else hiding within. Something more raw, more vulnerable.

Remorse.

Ran didn’t like getting you caught up in his business. He did everything he could to ensure that none of you were ever exposed to the ugly parts of his life. Tonight, he was sloppy. He fucked up, and he knew that. The second shit hit the fan, his only priority was his family… You had every right to be livid with him, having both your son and a pregnancy to deal with virtually on your own, while also covering his ass from prying cops itching to nail him to the wall…It’s a miracle how you haven’t packed up and left him yet…

And he thanks his lucky stars that you haven’t.

With another deep exhale, you rubbed your temple. “I don’t know what it is that you do in those streets to cause such an upset, Ran-”

“For the record, tonight wasn’t exactly my fault-”

“-and I don’t care. I just…”

Your exhausted tone was more than enough to shut him up. He felt his throat tighten as he gently bounced your son on his hip to distract his increasing anxiety. The lavender-haired man mentally prepared for your scolding, already set on sleeping in the dog house if that’s what got him in your good graces again…but it doesn’t come. Eyes that were hyper focused on [S/n] fiddling with his loosened tie slowly trailed up at the sound of you huffing in, what he assumed to be, relief.

Waddling over to your boys, you reached up to caress their faces. Instinctively, they nuzzled into your palms, Ran a little more hesitant than your beaming son before reaching out with his free hand to touch your stomach. When your unborn child kicked against it in response, you noticed his shoulders visibly relax. Your thumb gently rubbed under his eye, frowning at the dark circles that formed on the pale skin. He looked solemnly into your eyes, turning his head slightly to kiss the inside of your palm. You sighed once more, eventually granting him a smile in reassurance.

Despite his abnormal lifestyle, and how hectic it could get, “I’m just glad you’re home.”

© 2024-2025 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[minimomoe]

How to Train your Demon

Pairing: trueform! Sukuna x Fem Reader

Summary: Life has all kinds of wins and losses. You don't know which category to put your new demon husband in though.

Tags: MDNI!, red string of fate trope, true form sukuna, librarian reader, soul mates, reincarnation, accidental summoning, love at first sight (but it's one-sided (until it's not)), Sukuna is demon, but he's v much in love, smut and stuff eventually i guess....

Part: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI. XII. XIII. (completed)

Rule no. 9: Make Sure Instructions are Explicitly Clear

When you came back to the kitchen, Uraume was still there. In fact, upon further inspection of your kitchen, the place looked cleaner than before. Cleaner than the first time you moved in. You were grateful but felt strange. You didn’t ask them to tidy up but Uraume did it without your request. You came back before leaving to set the record straight because you didn’t need nor want a housekeeper. 

You eyed the empty plate that laid in front of Sukuna with disdain. It was practically clean, the greasy streaks from the meaty meal painted the white porcelain.

“Uraume, you don’t need to do all of this,” you gestured around to the house. “You’re a guest here. Please, take it easy.” “You’ll confuse them,” Sukuna said gruffly. “But as of today, Uraume will not be confined in the house.” 

You cocked your eyebrow at Sukuna who stood up from his chair. You already sensed that whatever today’s agenda held would get under your already itchy skin. 

“You will take Uraume with you to work.”

Ah there it is. The start of a headache right behind your eyes because of his overbearing protection. “There wasn’t a question mark in that statement.” 

“I was not asking,” Sukuna crossed his arms over his chest with a heavy finality. “Uraume will go with you.” 

“I don’t need a babysitter,” you gritted out. “If anything, it would be better for you for Uraume to stay with you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to get to.”

On your way out of the door, you found Uraume holding your work bag along with your tumbler cup filled with your favorite drink. You awkwardly took it out of their hands while muttering thanks. “And you do not have to come to work with me. Take a break,” you added before you left the house to your coworker waiting for you in her car. 

“Finally. I thought I was gonna have to drag you out of there myself,” Jess joked when you buckled yourself up in the passenger seat. 

“Sorry about that,” you laughed weakly. You eyed your house, your face barely able to hide your forehead scrunching up in a wince. 

“Is something wrong? Is Cleo still sick?” 

“What? No, she’s fine… just fine…”

Jess nodded but did not believe you. “Okay. Let’s try this again but this time don’t be as cryptic. Is there anything you want to talk about?”

You were unsure of how much of your situation you should reveal to your coworker. You were close enough to call her a friend, she’s the one who even offered to take you to work for as long as you needed until your foot healed, but you didn’t know just how deep that friendship was. You decided to test the waters with a very generic situation. 

“I’m just having… relationship issues.”

“Shut up, since when?!” Her eyes lit up even as she kept them on the road. “You know after Toji I didn’t think that you would be interested in men anymore. Are you still dating guys? Or are we talking about a lucky woman this time around?”

“Worse,” you snorted under your breath. 

“Huh? I can’t really hear you.” 

“I said it’s still a man. I just– I think I’m in over my head here. He wants to get… married.”

“Oh,” she said quietly. “He proposed to you?”

“God no,” you quickly corrected. That was technically true. No proposal but apparently soulmates. “He keeps on bringing marriage up. He’s very serious about it.” 

Jess tilted her head side to side, carefully preparing her next set of words. “Getting married is a serious matter. I mean, it’s not permanent. It’s messy, but you could always get a divorce if he switches up on you.” Jess gave you a quick glance from the corner of her eye. “But you never mentioned wanting to be a wife before. Don’t let him rush you.”

“I’m not,” you promised. “I never thought about it, but…”

“But what?” Jess prompted. The car was stopped at a redlight so she could fully look at you. You sat with your hands in your laps, palm up, tracing the lifelines over and over again. 

“I don’t know. I don’t hate it? He gets on my nerves like no other. He’s old fashioned, bossy as hell, kinda sticks out like a sore thumb,” you listed off with knitted eyebrows.

“So what do you like about him?” Jess snorted. Your face uncharastically softened. Jess wondered if you knew how much affection for this mystery man you held in your body.

“He’s not ugly, for one. I happen to like his face a lot,” you admitted. “There’s also a sense of understanding that comes with him. And, we have… history with each other. Don’t worry, I’m not getting caught up in the nostalgia, but it does make things complicated.” 

You hadn’t realized it but you and Jess made it to the library already. She parked the car and shut off the engine, plunging the car in silence. You both stared out the windshield, watching your other coworkers mill into the building. 

“How long have you known him?”

You shook your head. “If I told you that you’d think that I’m crazy. I’m talking straight jacket and padded walls crazy.”

“Alright then. Keep your secrets. I’m not telling you this because I want to be a bridesmaid for your wedding, but I do hope you guys work it out. Fully commit yourself like you are a married couple and see how it feels. I mean, you’re only dating right now, so you can always back out.” 

If only it was that easy, you thought to yourself. Still, you appreciated her help. “You’re right. Thanks, Jess. I really needed to get that off of my chest.” 

Jess beamed at you and you couldn’t help but to smile back. “I can’t wait to meet him once you feel comfortable. And if he does break your heart, I will break his legs.” 

The thought of Jess, who was smaller than you, taking a crowbar to Sukuna’s knees tickled you deeply. The image made you laugh loudly and Jess was happy to see you back in high spirits. You both climbed out of the car hand in hand, giggling all the way to your work stations. You separated, leaving you to hobble over to the front desk for your shift and you prepared the desk. Suguru would not come in until a few more hours, but you watched the door like a hawk for the return of the book Sukuna came from or Suguru. You were only interrupted from your task when a small voice coming from the other side of your desk called out your name. You peered over to find one of your favorite patrons with multiple books teetering in his hands already. 

“Yuuji,” you crooned. “You’re here early.”

“Good morning! We’re going on a road trip so Dad said we have to run ear-rands! I chose the liberry first!” 

The pink haired boy grinned up at you with a smile full of missing teeth that warmed your heart. 

“A road trip right before school starts. Lucky you,” you nodded. You reached over to take the load out of his arms and began to scan them. “Do you think you have enough books to keep you busy?”

Yuuji nodded furiously. “I really like this series.” 

You inspected the book you checked out and saw that it was a fantasy book about dragons that was the latest craze with kids. It had amazing illustrations along with a simple but captivating plot. You gave Yuuji a thumbs up. “This is a good choice. You gotta tell me how it ends when you come back.” 

Once again you were given a bright flash of teeth from the young boy. For a second you had a bout of deja-vu. You’ve known Yuuji since he was in diapers, but you had a strange feeling that you have seen his face somewhere else before. The thought was gone as quickly as it came by when Kento Nanami came up with his own set of books to check out. 

“Good morning,” he greeted in his velvety voice that slid in the air like jazz. He gently placed his stack on the desk and lifted Yuuji from the floor to rest on his hip. 

“It’s always a good one when you stop by,” you winked. You spied Jess shelving books from across the floor but her gaze was firmly stuck on the blond man. You bit back a giggle from the way she was missing the shelf multiple times from staring too hard. 

“You know, since Yuuji likes fantasy so much, I would recommend a knight story over there where Jess is standing. It would be right up his alley,” you offered. Nanami craned his neck to your point and Jess ducked below the shelves to hide in record time. “Well, she was standing over there,” you scoffed. “Yuuji said you’re taking a trip?”

“Yes, it’s last minute,” Nanami mused. He looked almost disappointed that he didn’t see your friend in the section you directed him to before he turned to face you with a soft smile. “I’ve been so busy. I want him to have at least one fun memory besides the activities held here.” 

“I hope you two enjoy yourselves,” you said earnestly. Just as you were printing out the receipt for the books you saw a familiar swish of white hair disappear behind the nonfiction section. You have only seen it once but you were sure of who it belonged to. 

“Thank you. We will,” Nanami promised. You helped him pack the books in his tote bag without putting Yuuji down and fixed it on his other shoulder. “We’ll see you soon.” 

“Of course,” you waved, but your attention was already drawn elsewhere. You had enough patience to make sure there was nobody else in line that you needed to help before stomping wobbly over to where you saw Uraume. They were not-so-subtly stuffing their face in a book larger than their head to hide their identity. 

“Uraume,” you said in a low warning tone. They slowly dropped the book and looked at you head on. “What are you doing here? How did you get here? I thought I told you to stay at home.” 

Uraume skillfully only responded to your last statement. 

“Lord Sukuna insisted that I come and watch over you. He’s worried over your condition.” 

“He should be worried about his condition when I get my hands on–”

“Did Kento say anything about me?” Jess said behind you, scaring you out of your body. You put your hand over your chest to calm your frantic heart and Jess apologized. 

“Oh I didn’t know you were talking to somebody. I love your hair,” Jess complimented Uraume and they blushed. 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s cool or whatever,” you grumbled, pulling her away from Uaraume before she got a better look. You would have to deal with him later. As you were walking Jess back to the front desk she repeated her question. 

“He would’ve, if you didn’t do that little disappearing act.” 

“I just didn’t expect to see him,” she groaned. “Nobody should look that fine so early in the morning.” 

You found Uraume moving from section to section, seemingly not concerned with your whereabouts but you knew better. You were very annoyed, practically seething internally from Sukuna’s blatantly sending Uraume even though you had said not to. There was no getting through to him. 

“Aw man,” Jess sighed, looking down at her phone. You looked at her expectantly and she turned her phone to you. “Suguru’s not coming in today. One of his daughters is sick.” 

Fucking fantastic. “Poor girl,” you said instead. 

“Yeah, he said she got a nasty fever. I hope it’s nothing serious.” 

You already zoned out from the conversation, trying to come up with ways to work around his absence in relation to your demon issue. You slumped down into the nearest empty chair and spun around despondently. 

Jess poked your shoulder. “Lighten up. You don’t have to take on his shift, somebody else already took care of that.” 

“That’s great,” you mumbled without any real conviction. 

All you could do is hope that the universe was still on your side and you could get the journal back with or without Suguru being around. 

Thanks for reading loves!! lemme know what ya think xx

Part: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI. XII. XIII.

M.list || Twitter || Ao3

[wangxianficrecs]

Posting Schedule, Changes & A Small Break

~*~

My fellow wangxianists.

I am very sorry that I have to make this announcement, but I need to take a little break.

Let me start by promising that I will not abandon this blog and I will definitely continue posting, but I really do need a break. For the past two years, I managed to keep this blog running with daily fic recs, no matter what was happening in my own life. I prepared the queue for when I had a major surgery last year and for when I went on a long vacation this year, but currently the queue is empty and I can't bring myself to hastily throw another post together just so that I will not miss my daily fic rec.

In the beginning of August, I moved across the country and started a new job. It's my dream job and I worked hard for literal years to have this opportunity, but it's also very demanding and I often come home and continue working. I just don't have as much time anymore to read fics and then prepare a fic rec post (write the rec itself, make the graphic, format everything, etc.) and I found myself only hastily reading whatever short fic came across my dash and then quickly throwing a post together and it's becoming an unfortunate pattern. I don't want fic-reading burnout. I love reading fic and I love this fandom very much. I also still want to have enough time to write my own fanfics. It's my dearest hobby and I often neglected it to keep the WangxianFicRecs queue running.

Needless to say, things have to change and here's what I decided so far:

No more daily fic rec posts

From now on, I will add all posts to the queue. My own recs, Follower Recs, Proud Author Spotlights, Event Boosts, everything will get added to the queue. So on some days, e.g. you might get one of my recs or your might get a Follower Rec. And if there is no post for a day or two, that's fine too.

Bringing back old recs

There are over 1.400 bookmarks in the WangxianFicRecs Collection and we made posts for all of them. Going forward, whenever the queue is looking a little sad and empty, I will queue some of our old recs similar to Throwback Recs. I'm sure there are more than a few recs you missed originally.

Housekeeping

I will take a break for at least a week (I'll add all submissions in the inbox to the queue) and take some time to think about how I want to run this blog going forward. I've also promised myself to finally clean up our tag page and maybe get a better system sorted for making the graphics.

In the meantime, thank you for your support and being such lovely followers! I really love running this blog and I want to keep loving it going forward.

Love, Kay.

[veebeeboo109]

Cleaning up the Timeline

{Caleb is back, but is he who you remember?}

Read on ao3. Part One.

Tags: Reader/L&DS Men, Romance, Violence, Blo0d, Betrayal, Angst

Chapter 23: Crimes

It’s good to have something to focus on. A tether to wrap around to keep from blowing away like a kite in a tornado. The weight of Caleb’s body is sobering, and you cry out for help as you attempt to drag him inside. 

He drips blood onto the polished floors, and you gasp when he slips from your grasp, hauled into the hand of Sylus and Xavier. 

“Take him to my bedroom,” You tell them. You remember the medical kit Zayne left in there, and without the doctor in the house at the moment, you’ll have to make do. Sylus grumbles under his breath as he hauls the unconscious man up the stairs and into your room. You direct them to the bathroom, sitting him up against the wall and almost slipping on the still damp floor.

You crouch down to Caleb’s side and feel for his pulse. It’s steady and strong, but his breathing is short. You stand and go to retrieve the bag Zayne left, barking out a harsh, “Get out.”

Sylus is already stepping back, but Rafayel remains firm, “Cutie, we can help.”

“I don’t want or need your help right now.” You hiss, too raw right now to look him in the eye, “I need a minute. I need….like so many minutes. Just go. Get out, and don’t come back until I say.”

“Please,” Xavier whispers, reaching out again, “I can explain this. It isn’t as it seems.”

“Isn’t it! ?” You whirl around, screaming in his face with all the pent up emotion you had inside you, “Because it seems like I got dumped in some world all alone. The people who claimed to love me didn’t even bother looking for me, and when they did find me, they left me in the dark! Playing housekeeper and fuck doll! Parading around like I wasn’t missing half of myself! Did you have fun!? Playing with this version of me ?!”

Xavier goes pale, and you regret your words the instant you’ve said them because they’ve landed perfectly. You’ve wounded him. Wounded all of them. But the fire in you is still burning too hot, and so you turn away, and leave them with whatever pain they feel they deserve and close the bathroom door behind you. 

Caleb groans when the door slams and rattles the walls. You drop the bag beside him, and then press a hand to the sticky side of his face.

“Caleb,” You call, “Caleb, wake up.”

He stirs slightly, eyes cracking open but fighting against the light. Hazy violet irises find you and widen slightly. A choked noise leaves his cracked lips, and he lifts his hand to reach out to you.

“Are you hurt?” He rasps, reaching out but not touching. His trembling fingers hover an inch away from your face, the blood coating his digits has nearly dried and is beginning to flake.

You shake your head, “I’m fine. What— What happened? You’re covered in blood!” 

“Not mine.” He whispers, hand falling back to his side. His gaze drifts down his face and down to your neck, a sleepy drag of his vision. “I had to… I didn’t want you to see me like this, but you weren’t there….”

“What?” You breathe in confusion. You sigh and pull his attention back to you with a gentle hand to his shoulder, “Are you hurt anywhere? Zayne isn’t here, but I can still help.”

Caleb wheezes out a laugh and lets his head fall back against the wall, “You gonna’ kiss it better, pipsqueak?”

The juvenile urge to smack him upside the head occurs to you, but you push it away. You lean back to assess his torso and legs.When you try to peel the jacket from him, it’s stuck to his shirt with blood and gore, and the sound of the wet fabric is more than enough to persuade to take an alternate route. 

From the medical kit, you pull out scissors and start at the hem of his shirt, cutting him out of it. 

You snip, snip, snip your way up his ruined clothing, and you make it to his chest before he startles and pulls away, “Don’t.”

Reinforcing your grip on him, you hiss at him, “Stay still. You need to get cleaned up. I’m sure you have a great explanation for all the blood. WE can talk about it later.”

“No,” Caleb shuffles back, “You can’t see me.”

“I’ve seen you naked before,” You huff, “We lived together for a while– if you haven’t forgotten. Though, maybe you have? You did leave me for over a year. Thanks for that by the way.”

“Pipsqueak,” Caleb says mournfully, and he finally touches you. Grabbing the hand with the surgical scissors and holding them away from him, “I…I don’t look…the same.”

A dry laugh escapes you, “I don’t remember you being so vain. You’re lucky that I’m only marginally less mad at you than I am at them right now– Now, quit fighting me and let me help you.”

Caleb goes quiet and slowly lets go of your wrist. You return to work, cutting him free of the soiled garments and peeling them from his skin. 

He was right about not looking the same. He’s thicker than you remember. The diameter of his arms and legs are just all around larger. There are scars too. Burns that have left their mark all along the right side of his body. Wrinkled and puckered skin that’s still slightly pink from fresh flesh.

Clad in just his underwear, you realize none of that is what he meant by different. He stiffens when you see it. When your eyes fall on the shiny metal of his prosthetic arm. It’s striking, both in engineering and design. Made in the form to be molded like an arm, it articulates when he tenses, the metallic fibers that take the place of muscles cording tighter. 

You’re quiet for a moment, and he flinches when you reach for him. Though, for some reason, he doesn’t stop you. He lets you slowly draw your fingers along the edge of his prosthesis, where flesh meets metal. It’s rigged, but clean. 

“Did…” You find a hard lump in your throat when you try to speak, “Did Ever do this?”

Caleb looks at your face like he’s waiting for something horrible to happen. A wide-eyed lost look of someone expecting to be rejected and discarded. He nods. 

“Does it hurt?” You ask, and to that he shakes his head. You flatten your hand over his shoulder, letting only your pinky finger rest against what is not Caleb. “You can still shower right? Can it get wet?”

That makes him laugh, “Yeah, it can.”

“Good.”

You ready the shower, and help him to his feet. You pull a towel out from the cabinet and set it on the counter. He watches every move you make, and the flutters of a smile appear when you turn your attention back to him. 

“I’ll just…” You clear your throat and point to the door, “I’m gonna’ find you some clothes to wear, and then we can…talk.”

Caleb looks uncertain but he nods, and you take the opportunity to escape. You go back to your room, and pick up the clothes from the floor. You change into something fresh and bundle your now bloody clothes into a bag to throw away. 

It isn’t something you want to do at this point, but you have to. You leave your bedroom, and– of course– one of them is already there. Xavier is standing on the other side of the hall, leaning against the wall. 

“Bunny,” He breathes in relief at the sight of you. He steps closer to you, but you stop him with a flat hand. 

“Don’t.” You snap. “I need clothes. For Caleb.”

Xavier’s jaw tightens and his back goes rigid, “Is he alright?”

“He’s not hurt,” You reply stiffly, “But he’s filthy. I’m letting him get cleaned up, and then I’ll get him to explain the blood.”

“He could be involved–”

“If you’re about to suggest that Caleb had something to do with Ever, I don’t want to hear it.” You hate the way your voice trembles. Too much emotion leaking out and making the words tumble out of you unsteadily. You’re tiptoeing on a knife’s edge of sanity as it is. You can’t entertain the idea that Caleb might not be on your side.

Xavier inhales through his nose and then exhales slowly. Trying just as hard to remain calm, “I’ll go get some clothes. And some food.”

You nod, unable to say thanks out loud to him right now. “Where are the others?”

Xavier pauses as he turns to leave, “Downstairs.”

“Why are you up here then?” 

Xavier blinks and turns to face you fully, “Because you still need me. The last time you left my sight, they took you. I won’t let that happen again, even if you hate me.”

A dagger spears your chest, and you feel your heart spasm at his words, “I don't– I don’t hate you.” 

Xavier smiles almost sadly, “I’ll go get what you need. I’ll knock and leave them outside.”

He walks away and you feel guilt gnaw at you. Tear at your tender flesh and leave you raw and open. You escape back to your bedroom and wipe a hand down your face. The sound of the shower is still going, and it’ll likely take a while for Caleb to get clean. 

So, you sit on your bed and take stock. 

This world– This universe ? – Wasn’t original. Or, at least, it wasn’t your original one. It was different. Recycled? You remember Zayne enacted some spell, but the conversations about its purpose and effects are still lost to you. 

That past life had been…it had been good. It was hard to survive, and there was so much suffering but there had been so much good too. Your life. Your love. The home you had built together with the four men that loved you. It was all gone. Turned to stardust and mortar to build the bricks of the world now standing around you. 

You had lived your whole life until this point thinking they didn’t exist. They had let you live in complete ignorance of who they were and what they meant to you. You were struggling to piece together how it all happened. How had they all found each other, but forgotten you? 

It hurt. The years you could have had and time slipped through unknowing fingers is a wound you’re still reeling from. You’d know Zayne since…

Zayne. 

Zayne didn’t know. Rafayel has said it so casually, but it didn’t make any sense. Why did Xavier, Sylus, and Rafayel remember– but not Zayne? A cost of the spell? It sounded plausible. It had taken the essence of everyone to make this new universe, it would stand to reckon it would take any pound of flesh it could while it was at it. 

Why didn’t you remember?

You took a deep breath and tried to slow down your thoughts. 

If what they said was true, then they tried to find you but couldn’t. You’d been hidden all this time right under their noses, and Zayne– without his memory– hadn’t been able to help you. Even without memory of each other, you and Zayne found each other. You still found them, as fate would have it. Even with the vastness of this world. All the choices that lead you to this very moment….you still found them. 

But a decade ago….they’d stopped looking for you ten years ago . Come to some unanimous decision that you weren’t worth looking for anymore?

Had you been easy to forget? Had they been surprised to see you? A ghost came to haunt them….It hurts. God, it hurts. It tore at your heart because you can’t imagine a world where you stop looking for any of them. You’d have tore open the earth, cracked every foundation, uprooted every tree, and overturned every rock to find them again.

What cruelty it was, to think of those years you could have had with them. And yet– a kinder part of your mind supplies– what a unique opportunity you’d been bestowed. 

You had gotten the chance to fall in love with them all over again, and they too. They hadn’t exactly invited you here with the intention to love you again. Xavier had been downright prickly at first, and Rafayel too teasing. Sylus had barely made any moves to get to know you until it was clear you were staying. 

There was no great orchestration to get you here. An unknowing lamb for them to groom you for their desires. They just…let you live. Let you fall into them again as easy as breathing. 

After you hear the knock, you rise from the bed feeling marginally better than before. You’re still owed a hell of an explanation, but at the very least you’re not itching to escape any more. 

Xavier has returned to his post, standing guard in the hall and he keeps his eyes downcast as you retrieve the tray of food and the pile of folded clothes beneath it. 

Two steaming styrofoam cups of instant ramen sit next to two unopened bottles of water. A little plate of peeled and sliced apples on one side, and next to that a little piece of strawberry candy. 

Just as you sit the tray down onto the bed, you hear the shower stop running. Caleb exits the bathroom with a plume of steam behind him. He’s got the towel you left him wrapped around his hips and thankfully, no more blood covers him. It makes the chrome of his right arm stand out even more, and you avoid looking at it for too long.

“Get dressed.” You say as sternly as you can, hoping you sound like you mean the most serious of business, “And then start talking.”

Caleb looks a little hesitant but nods. He grabs the clothes and goes back into the bathroom to change, coming back out in a dark color sweatshirt belonging to Sylus and a pair of red lounge pants that belong to Zayne. 

He sits down on the bed on the other side of the tray and looks down at the cup of ramen thoughtfully, “I don’t know where to begin.”

You huff softly, “How about why you were covered in blood?”

Caleb’s face goes grim and he shakes his head, “Can’t we just…forget about that? It was– It had to be done, and I don’t really–”

“ Caleb .” You interrupt him sharply, “I promise you that whatever you tell me is not half as weird as the other shit I’ve gone through today.”

You’re not entirely sure you can handle whatever comes out of Caleb’s mouth next, but it’s not like you have anything else to do. And you need answers. At least one answer to the laundry list of questions burning in your mind. 

“The explosion…” Caleb begins softly, “I knew it was going to happen, and I let it happen. I…I let Ever take me, so that they couldn’t take you. It was you or me, and I couldn’t let you go back to that place. I swore I’d never let them have you again.”

“Ever had me before?” It was only in theory before that. You had no memories of being with Ever as a child, but the documents don’t lie. Gran had had some connections and you had hoped…

“It’s where we met.” Caleb whispers, finally meeting your eye. “All I wanted was to protect you, and eventually we got out. I swore– I swore to never let them have you again. So when they took me in…when they took my arm….I did everything I could to protect you from them.”

You rise to your feet, needing to be moving to escape the sudden burst of writhing anxiety in your chest. “What did you do?”

“I did a lot of things.” Caleb replies.

“Did you put a bug on my phone?” You whirl to look at him, for once in your life you’re taller than him. Only while he sits hunched over on your bed does he sit lower than you. 

He flinches at the question and looks away, “Yes.”

A blow. A piercing arrow into the liver. Bleeding slowly. “Were you the one who followed me? That first time?”

Caleb shakes his head, “No, but I– I helped. I told them…where you were.”

Your hands clench at your sides. “The storage unit? Did you take my photos?”

At this Caleb looks up at you, “Yes, but only because I was setting everything up! I…I knew you’d want them and I was afraid Ever would burn everything they could get their hands on of yours. They’d originally planned to take you and erase any mark that you ever existed. I knew you’d want those photos.”

His explanation doesn’t soothe you, and you have to take a step back away from him. “Did you lure me to my apartment? Was it you I was following?”

Caleb freezes, and all the hope and eagerness in his puppy-like eyes evaporates into cold horror, “I…You weren’t supposed to see me.”

“But I did! I thought you were dead! And you were tormenting me! Haunting me! I couldn’t– I couldn’t breathe! I couldn’t function when I thought you were dead! And you were fucking with me!?”

“No!” Caleb cries, rising to his feet, “I needed to see you. I…I was…I was weak. I couldn’t stand being apart like that and I got stupid. I just wanted to see you. To show you that Ever had been watching you for a while. You had no idea the trouble you were in!”

“Well thanks! I’m definitely aware now!” You snarl back at him, “What was the point of it!? You fake your death and leave me alone and they still took me!? What was it all for?!”

Caleb looks horrified and he chokes on a sob, “I failed! I was setting it up! I was planning for us– We were supposed to be together! Ever was supposed to burn to the ground and then I would come get you! But they found a loophole!”

He grabs at his hair and breathes through his teeth, muscles tense, but then suddenly, he relaxes. He lets go of his hair and lets his hands fall to his sides. In a much calmer tone he continues, “They found a legal loophole that would protect them if they took you. You and I were their property. I didn’t find out you were even there until a week later because they sent me on some bullshit mission into the Deepspace Tunnel. I swear– I swear you wouldn’t have spent more than an hour there if I’d known.”

You turn away from him, covering your mouth with your hand. Tears burst from your eyes, not even bothering to linger before their spilling over. Your stomach threatens to retch and you can barely manage the next words out of your mouth, looking over your shoulder at him, “You were working with them?”

Caleb steps back like you’d shot him. He steps once towards you and then falls to his knees, he reaches out to you in utter desperation, beseeching you with crystalline tears shimmering down his cheeks. “ Please, please, don’t cry. I was never working for them! Not really ! It was only to protect you! To keep you safe! 

You try to step away from him but he’s grabbing at your shirt and wrapping his arms around your hips. 

“ It wasn’t supposed to be like this!” Caleb sobs hysterically, digging his face into your abdomen. “It wasn’t supposed to be this horrible!”

“Caleb, let go of me.” You stutter out, ineffectually pushing at him to let you go. He only holds you tighter and chokes on his own sorrow the harder you push. 

“Forgive me please!” He blubbers, lifting his chin to look at you through his dewey lashes, “I need you. I need you to forgive me. I can’t….All of this– all of this was for you.”

You can’t process while he’s groveling like this, and you’re drowning in the absurdity and overwhelming revelations you’ve made today that you stop fighting him. You let him cling to you and press the heels of your palms into your eyes. 

The men you loved had stopped looking for you. The man you grew to love in this life had worked with the organization that had tortured and experimented on you. Your heart had been shredded too far, in little tatters settling amongst the ribbons of your lungs. 

You take in a shuddering breath. Your hands are held up and away from him, unable to grant him the pleasure of your touch. In a trembling voice you ask, “Why were you covered in blood?”

Caleb sniffles and looks up at you, “I killed them all. I killed that Antham woman, and anyone else that tried to stop me. The minute I knew you were with Ever I went and got you. You were…You were unconscious. So I carried you out. I killed everyone in the way. I would kill anyone else that tried to come for you. That’s why…”

You shudder on another inhale. You close your eyes, needing one less sensory input to process this. “You helped me escape.”

“Yes. Yes.” Caleb jumped at the opportunity to return to your side, to remind you that he was and always be your ally. Your closest, most reliable, guard dog. “That man that did this to you. He’s dead. His assistants too. Anyone who touched you is dead.”

“You didn’t–” You cut yourself off and take another breath, “Did you have to kill everyone?”

“There was no other way.” Caleb whispers, placing his chest to your tummy and squeezing you again, “I tried it civilly. I had it all set up. I was going to get their stock to tank. Release some classified files to destroy them in the press. Choke them from their funding. Destroy all the files they had on you. Then kill anyone who remembered it.”

You laugh mirthlessly, “What a plan…” 

“You have to know,” Caleb says as he lets his hands reach up higher on your back, “I would never do anything to hurt you. All I have ever wanted was to love you. To be at your side.”

Slowly– achingly slowly– you let your hands rest on his shoulders, and Caleb shudders at your touch. He trembles with the warmth of your fingers, and you wonder when that little boy you grew up with became capable of such horrible violence. He’d taken dozens of lives today, and here he was– kneeling at your feet worried about gaining your forgiveness instead of some wrathful god’s.

“I’m so sorry…” Caleb whispers against your stomach, and you feel the movement of his lips through your shirt. “I…I shouldn’t have ever intervened. It’s my fault. The lines I wrote…”

Something about his last words strikes something in you. A dusty old bell of recognition that makes you grab the sides of his face and tilt his head back to look at you. “What did you just say?”

Caleb’s eyes go a little hazy at your manhandling, “It’s my fault. I…I wrote more lines. I changed the story.”

The Story.

You shove him away, and he too easily falls back. “What the fuck did you just say?”

Caleb turns back to you, “Pipsqueak–”

Pain lashes through your head, blinding again as more visions from the past flare like gunpowder meeting sparks. 

“Come with me.” The young man urges. He holds out a hand, having to lean down far from his horse to reach you. The other women you’d escaped the burning village with have already left you behind, but this man …wouldn’t let you go.

“I can’t–” You rasp. The smoke from the burning hut you’d just been inside makes your throat burn, and it takes effort to push words out. “I don’t know you! You’re with them! Those raiders!”

The young raider looks over his shoulder and through the trees, where the glow of the village shines. The rest of his band is taking care of the remainders of the goods to be plundered and lighting the remaining buildings ablaze. 

He climbs down from his horse and takes off the helmet that covers most of his face, “Please.” He says your name and you startle at the sound of it, “I know you probably don’t remember me.”

You recognize the violet in his eyes. The soft lavender and mauve that you remember in a boy much smaller than this. The man who stands before you is a far cry from that little boy you knew. Huddled together on the dusty mud floor of the convent, avoiding lashing from the priestesses and hoping some wealthy family comes by to adopt you. 

“No,” You say softly, “I do.”

You hadn’t known him more than a month before parting, but you’d remember him– for his beautiful eyes if nothing else. He’d been sold off to some rough looking folk that threw a sword in his hands the moment he left the convent, and you were adopted to a small merchant family– an extra set of hands they couldn’t be bothered to pay for. 

“I can keep you safe.” He says earnestly, taking both of your hands into his. And standing before you clad in the roughened armor of a raider. The cloak at his back is a mustard yellow and trimmed with black. “Come with me. Stay by my side, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. You don’t have to keep running like this.”

The whoops and cheers of the raiders echo through the woods, and a flurry of ash and embers explodes into the night sky as one of the houses from the village collapses.

You squeeze his hands. He seems so earnest, and you trust that he means his words– but you doubt he can follow through.

“Look at this place,” You whisper, “Do you really think you can protect me from them? From the band you swore loyalty to?”

Caleb freezes. You remember his name now. When his eyes widen into that childlike fear, you recognize him more. His hands slowly relax and release you, and you let your touch linger as you slowly draw away. 

“In another life.” You whisper, “I would go with you.”

A gasp shreds into you, and you stumble backwards– crashing into the bedside table and sending the lamp and picture frame clattering to the floor. Your knees threaten to buckle under you and you grab onto the headboard of your bed. Hand covering your mouth to prevent a scream from escaping. 

“Pipsqueak…” Caleb repeats, kneeling on one knee and his hands outstretched towards you.

His eyes. How could forget his eyes? The color of nightshade blossoms. Poison. But he was so kind. So gentle. You caught only glimpses of him in your life before, and you had thought he had died after that final meeting. That raid that had led you to the Sanctuary in the first place. 

“What…W-what did you do?” You’re shaking again, unsure whether in fear or in rage. 

Caleb eyes widen slightly, recognition sparkling in that quickly spoils into agony, “You remember.”

His words are the final nail in the coffin, and you choke on the sudden swell of sorrow that explodes inside you. Sliding down to curl up into a ball on the floor, pushing yourself as far back as you can go. 

“Pipsqueak,” Caleb whispers again, approaching like one might a scared animal. 

“Don’t call me that!” You scream and he recoils back. “Say it! I want to hear you say it Caleb!”

What a sight the two of you must make. You, curled up tightly in the corner, hissing like a frightened cat, claws bared while Caleb rests on his hands and knees a few feet away. 

Caleb’s frightened eyes search your face for a moment, flickering like he was scared of the next words to emerge from his mouth. “I…I was there.”

You force yourself to keep eye contact with him, and wait for him to confess his sins.

“I…It was my fault. I…” Caleb sits back on his heels and rests his hands on his thighs, eyes downcast on the floor between you. “I found your Sanctuary. I told Astra where it was. I asked Astra for you, in exchange. All I…All I wanted was to be by your side. I wanted to keep you safe, and happy.”

“It’s your fault.” You whisper– a statement of fact that wounds you both.

“It’s my fault.” He repeats again. “When I heard what the envoy demanded, I went to get you. To take you to safety. It wasn’t supposed to–”

“You were too late.” You say, letting your eyes drift away from his guilt-ridden face and down to your hands, “Zayne was already performing the spell.”

Caleb nods, “It was wrong….I know I was wrong but I…I just wanted…”

“What did you write?” You push. You can hear his voice getting weaker, more reluctant to speak the truth he so desperately wants to conceal. 

Caleb hunches over more. “I added my name into the story. Put ours next to each other. I wanted to grow up with you…like we should have before. I wanted to be by your side the whole time. I just wanted a happily ever after…”

A dry scoff leaves you, “And that made Ever.”

“Maybe.” Caleb shakes his head, “Probably. Zayne was careful, and I…I wrote a line that kept you apart from them.”

You flinch and grit your teeth, “ Why ?”

He shakes his head, “I…I was so tired of being alone…I couldn’t…I couldn’t compete with them. I hated them…for having you when I couldn’t.”

You’re past the point of emotional outbursts. The agony in your chest has burned so hotly it’s turned from a raging star into the low white-hot permanence of a dwarf star. You don’t have it in you to scream again, to thrash and flail like a fish on a spear.

“They’ll kill you.” You whisper, feeling numb, “If they find out it was you. They’ll kill you.”

Caleb swallows again and he nods, “If you can’t forgive me, then I don’t want to live. If you want me to go, then I won’t fight them.”

“You’re insane.” 

A heavy silence falls between you, draping you in a suffocating blanket of lead and sorrow. Caleb doesn’t move, and he doesn’t look away. He stares at you like it might be the last time, and you don’t have it in you to correct him. 

“Do you remember when we were younger…” Caleb’s voice is tight, like he’s fighting back tears again, “You had these journals. A ledger you kept against me whenever I annoyed you.”

Your heart twists, “I remember.”

“I can never undo what I’ve done, and I don’t think there’s anything I can do to make up for it.” Caleb exhales softly, “But I am so sorry . I acted selfishly. I acted without thinking, and I will spend every moment of the rest of my life working to make amends. Please, pipsqueak, please….forgive me.”

There’s a war inside you. You still feel like two people inside one body, shredded in twain where one half resides in a world of war and survival. That part of you demands a blood price for what he’s done. An eye for an eye. That part of you only remembers glimpses of Caleb, and doesn't know him. 

Then there’s the other part of you. The part that grew up with this version of him. Years of helping each other with homework and teasing each other endlessly. Spending hours hidden beneath blankets and waiting out thunderstorms. He’s Caleb. He’s your Caleb. The boy who made you soup when you were sick and made sure to sit and listen to your every complaint. 

He’d cheered the loudest at your graduation. He’d kept your secrets about your crush on Zayne and that time you broke one of Gran’s vases and replaced it with a similar one from the thrift shop. 

It would be easier if you weren’t human. If you could look at things like a calculator. Input the deeds he’d done and multiply it by some value of morality. and see in clear numbers whether or not he deserved to be forgiven. 

But you’re not a robot. You’re not a calculator, or a weapon. You’re only human, and so you uncurl from the fetal position and slowly– so slowly– reach out to him. He crawls to you, letting you cradle the sides of his face in your palms, and his expression slackens into despondency. 

“I don’t forgive you.” You whisper while you simultaneously brush your thumb across his cheekbone. His bottom lip trembles, and his eyes shine with renewed dew. You don’t let him pull away or push closer, holding him at arm’s length, “But I want to….someday. I think I could forgive you someday.”

Caleb dissolves between your fingers. He lowers himself down to the floor to crawl even closer to you, until he’s resting his head in your lap, “I’ll do anything… anything .”

You pet his hair, feeling the still damp strands between your fingers and you sigh, “I need to talk to the others. I need to make sense of things with them.”

Caleb lifts his head, “They’ll kill me. They’ll kill me, and I deserve it.”

“No one is blameless here.” You reply, “You’ve done horrible things to me. To them. You can’t just gain my forgiveness. You have to make amends with them too. If you want to be by my side, they’re part of it.”

Caleb’s expression softens from its ragged edge; he looks starry-eyed up at you, “You really….you really won’t send me away?”

“Not yet.” You hush, “I have an idea, but I need to go and talk to the others first. Can you wait here?”

Caleb nods eagerly, and rises up to his knees. “Always. Anything you want.”

Caleb sits obediently on your bed while you get busy yourself. Procrastinating leaving the room by changing your clothes again, brushing your hair and putting it up. You’re so exhausted that you debate taking a nap, but this can’t wait. You can sleep once you’re not torn up inside. When you know the men you love aren’t upset with you, and that everything is as it should be. 

You need answers before you can sleep, and you have to make sure they don’t actually try to kill Caleb in the meantime.

You reinforce your command for Caleb to stay in your room, and he nods firmly as you leave. 

Xavier is still there, waiting just outside the door. His Lightblade in one hand and standing stoically. His eyes soften when you appear, and the tension across his shoulders ease. 

He’s looking at you with such eagerness that you have to look away, “How much did you hear?”

The hand holding his Light blade shifts around the hilt, “Enough.”

You nod and cross your arms, “I want to talk to all of you, but I just…the others can’t know what he’s done yet. Can you–”

“No.” Xavier cuts you off. “I will not keep it from them. You brought the enemy into our house.”

“I’m not asking you to hide it forever!” You hiss, “Just let me explain it to them before you go busting down doors.”

Xavier spins the Lightblade in a flourish, crossing it behind his back as he takes steps towards you, “There is no forgiveness I can grant him. I won’t kill him, but he cannot stay here.”

You sigh and shake your head, “Xavier, please. Please let’s just go downstairs and talk, ok? I am so tired.”

Xavier stops you with a firm hand on your arm, tight but not painful. When he pulls you to look at him again his eyes are burning with an indiscernible fire. He says your name, pleads it before speaking, “If you remember the past, then you remember the oath I made to you. I swore my life to yours– to protect you. And he took that– he took that life.”

You glance down to where Xavier is holding onto you, and you reach out with your free hand to peel his hand away. Though you don’t let him go, you splay out your hands. Palm to palm and each finger pressed against the other. His hands are so much larger than yours, and you twist to lace your fingers together.

“I remember.” You whisper, “I remember the oath you made, and how I asked you not to make it.”

“That doesn’t change anything.” Xavier squeezes your hand, “There is no world where I do not belong to you.”

You let yourself enjoy the warmth from his palm for a moment longer before pulling away, “Then why did you stop looking?”

You turn and head down the stairs, out to the living room where Sylus and Rafayel sit. When they see you enter, they both rise to their feet. Sylus looks almost frightened while Rafayel doesn’t hesitate to push into your space.

“You don’t understand,” Rafayel says hastily, grabbing ahold of your wrists and looking at you pleadingly, “I searched for so long. For so long. I didn’t…I thought you didn’t exist. I thought you were gone.”

You take a steadying breath and draw away from him. “Go sit down Rafayel. We need to talk.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do, princess. Please.”

You give him a look, and he reluctantly obeys, going to sit down across from Sylus, who also returns to his seat. The white haired man is oddly silent, no argument or begging for forgiveness from him. He can’t even look at you. 

Xavier lets his Light blade shimmer out of existence and then sits down, the three of them waiting for you to speak.

“You stopped looking for me.” Is how you choose to begin, and you have to raise your hand to silence Rafayel from arguing again, “I want to know why. I want to know…how you all found each other and just… forgot about me.”

“We didn’t!” Rafayel barks, nearly standing but halted by Xavier’s hand on his arm.

“You did!” You snap right back. “I swear to god if any of you lie to me again I’m leaving. I’ll leave and never come back!”

It’s a lie. You know it, but they don’t seem to. Variations of horror crossing their features.

“We used facial recognition, but without an image to use,” Sylus begins. His voice is the most subdued you’ve ever heard it, “We were basically running with an artistic sketch. It never worked. We weren’t sure if you had the same name as before, or what year you would be born in.”

Your brow crinkles, “What does that mean?”

“This universe isn’t the same,” Xavier explains, “but it rhymes.”

“Rhymes?”

“The timeline of what occurred in the past happens now. I was centuries old when we first met, princess. And so I’ve been here for centuries before you were even born.” Rafayel adds, “Sylus too.”

“There’s no logic to it.” Sylus hums, still avoiding looking you in the eye, “We didn’t just wake up in these bodies and know. I spent decades alone, thinking the spell hadn’t worked. Then I found Rafayel.”

“I was next,” Xavier says, leaning forward on the couch, “We never found each other on purpose. Only by chance. I was undercover in the N109 zone when I found Sylus again, and Sylus found Rafayel at an auction.”

“When we went actively searching, we would always fail.” Rafayel grumbles as he crosses his arms. “It didn’t stop us from trying.”

“We knew Zayne would be somewhere trying to help people. And that you probably weren’t far from him.” Xavier says with a slight nod, “But we didn’t actually find him until he ran into us. Skiing of all things.”

“We only found Zayne three years ago.” Sylus remarks with a slight smirk, like remembering something funny, “We assumed the spell had obliterated him, and you. So when we found Zayne we tried to find you again, but nothing. Zayne doesn’t remember us the way we do him. He’s drawn to us, but he doesn’t know why.”

“You know how hard it is to search for someone that fate won’t let you find?” Rafayel scoffs. “We never stopped looking for you. Not really.”

“We made an agreement to stop breaking into records offices and hacking into hospital databases. A decade ago.” Xavier says this part softly, a bit shamefully. 

“Even your room!” Rafayel’s on his feet, motioning upwards to the floor above, “We made it for you! We made this place for all of us! We’d agreed that you…that you probably didn’t exist, but we kept the space for you.”

Your arms are unknowingly crossed, protecting you against the bombardment of information and emotion that wracks through you. Silence ensues, the three of them waiting for your reply. 

“I don’t want to be angry. I…I’m so tired, and just want to sleep. But I don’t know what world I’ll wake up in anymore.” You’re starting to crumble again, you can feel your thoughts slipping through your grasp like wisps of smoke. “I’ve got two lives inside my head. Two people. And I can’t remember how long I was there. I remember waking up this morning worrying about the runes. I can’t remember whether we need milk because we ran out of it in the fridge, or because we lost two cattle to wolves.”

 You take a second to breathe, and then continue, “I understand now. I…I don’t remember everything. There’s still a lot missing, but I remember enough. Enough to know that if it was possible, you would have found me.”

“Zayne got lucky.” Rafayel grumbles, “And he didn’t even know! I can’t stand him sometimes.”

You can’t help but sigh, some of the tension escapes you when you do, “It makes sense. I knew Zayne in the sanctuary for years before I found you, and then…” You press your hand to your forehead, “I think it was years…does it feel like this for you? Like…being split?”

Xavier rises to his feet, and you watch him tentatively approach you. The tightness in his brow eases when you don’t stop him, “It did at first. Like a dream, but then it felt like the past. Like memories.”

“I should really sleep.” You whisper to yourself.

The front door opens with a large clatter and then slams shut. From the entry, Zayne appears tugging a rolling cart behind him and another bag over his shoulders. He spots you standing in the middle of the room and his mouth forms a tight line, “Why aren’t you in bed?”

“Caleb came back,” You tell him. You reach out to press a hand to Xavier’s chest, a silent gesture of comfort before you walk over to Zayne. “He says he’s not injured, but can you look at him?”

Zayne exhales, but it might as well be an indignant huff, “After you. Sit on the couch. I need to perform a neurological exam.”

“Zayne, please, I’m fine!” You say but he’s already shepherding you to the couch, sitting you near the arm next to Rafayel. 

“Argue with me again.” Zayne challenges with a slight tilt of his head, “I dare you.”

You concede with a sigh, and the tension in the air is palpable. 

Zayne proceeds to ask you a series of questions: what year is it? What’s your name? When’s your birthday? And dammit if it doesn’t take you a second to answer them. Your name is easy, you had the same one in the past life too. The year? That was rougher.

He flashes a light in your eyes to check for pupillary response and then makes you stare straight ahead while he moves the thin penlight back and forth, and then makes you follow it with your eyes. 

You’ve passed his test, but he doesn’t look pleased. “I’d still like to get imaging done. A CT at least. There could be internal bleeding, or even a microfracture. You’re adrenaline is up and it could be hiding–”

“Zayne,” You say insistently, grabbing him by the sides of the face and holding him still. “I’m fine. I’m alright. If you really need to, we can go tomorrow. And you can take as many pictures of my bones as you want.”

Zayne looks a little doe-eyed, staring at you, “Your heart…”

“Is just fine.” You finish for him, “Now please, can you go check on Caleb? He’s in my room.”

Zayne’s nose crinkles slightly, “Fine. I’ll go check on him, though I doubt he’ll let me get very far. He’s more stubborn than you, as far as I remember.”

You drop your hands and can’t help but giggle, “Tell him I told him to behave. He’ll shape up quick. I promise.”

Zayne is clearly unconvinced, and goes to stand but seems to remember something. He blinks and moves to press his cool palm against your jaw, winding into your hair to pull you into a kiss. 

Zayne from before– The Master of Fate– had been frugal with his affections. Too afraid to break the bond you had formed through years as teacher and student. He saw you as his pupil, his ward. Someone he needed to protect and care for, and so he was reluctant to spoil that with things like kisses. 

You like this Zayne better. He kisses you freely. In plain view of others and without fear. He’s sure in his feelings and in the security of this world without war and famine. He doesn’t have the weight of a Sanctuary riding on his shoulders, and the fear of what to do should an army come knocking. 

As Zayne pulls away, you realize that you’d do it all again. Go through everything in the world again, just to see Zayne this free. 

Zayne takes his equipment upstairs and you turn to the others. 

Xavier had spent his entire life being groomed for a throne he didn’t want. Thrown into battle and war zones to prove his worth to his gluttonous, warmongering father. When you’d met him before, he’d been on the verge of death. The scars lining his body never really healed. He had lost most of his vision in his left eye and part of his left ear. And here? He was unscathed. A scar here or there, but nothing like before. 

Rafayel is lighter in this world. Free from the guilt of his lost kingdom. Before, you’d find him lost in thought. So deep in his own mind and wracked with sorrow of what he’d lost that he’d be completely deaf to the world. In this world, the only time he was lost was when he was deep within a painting. Lost not in traumatic memories, but in the euphoria of creativity. 

Sylus was the most different– physically. No longer was his skin covered in black ebony scales. His fingers were missing the long dangerous talons that he’d tried on some many occasions to cut. The horns that he’d knock against doorways and too-low ceilings were gone. Aspects that you had grown to love were gone, and you wondered if he’d been born without them here, or learned to hide them somehow. But he’d lamented the fact he had to hold you so delicately. Hated the fact he could not sleep in the bed with you and the others because his tail was in the way….No wonder he was so eager to be in the middle of the cuddles piles now…

You reach out to Rafayel because he’s the closest. You crawl into his lap and he wraps his arms around you without question. His warmth seeps into you, and you sigh contently. 

“Forgive me,” Rafayel whispers into your hair, clinging to you tightly.

“I do.” You whisper, pulling away to brush your noses against each other, “I only mourn the years I didn’t get. I wish I could have known the whole time.”

You look over to Sylus, who sits stiffly nearby and you reach out to him. He looks at your hand with uncertainty, and when he reaches out to you, his touch is chaste. He doesn’t immediately lace your fingers together and pull you into him like he normally does.

“There is more to discuss.” Xavier says tightly from behind you.

You sigh and look over your shoulder, hoping that maybe the blond had forgotten what he’d heard. Alas, no such luck. 

“It can wait, right?” Rafayel says, sounding a little eager. He brushes his hands down your waist and lets them settle at your hips, “We should get some rest, right? Sylus has his minions guarding the place so there’s no risk of those Ever people. Nothing more important than sleep right now, I think.”

You shake your head, “No, it’s important. But you guys have to promise not to get mad.”

“That’s never a good way to start things.” Rafayel mumbles, disappointed his attempt to get you into bed was stopped once again.

Sylus is still silent, and you’re starting to worry that maybe he was already mad. 

You rise to your feet again, needing to separate from Rafayel so he doesn’t accidentally break you when you tell him. 

Xavier is simmering. Barely tempered with a lid over the rolling boil of a pot. He’s held his tongue for this long, and for that you’re grateful, but you know the second you spill the beans he’s going to have a lot to say. 

“So Caleb,” You begin, unsure of where to even start, “You guys know Caleb? We grew up together. And I guess, I was with Ever when I was really little and so was he! That’s why Gran took us both in. Which is…I think I told you that already. Well, he’s the reason I was able to escape. Which is why he was covered in blood when he showed up. Killed all of them, I guess.”

Rafayel leans back against the couch and tilts his head, “You’re rambling. Why are you rambling?”

“Hush.” Xavier hisses at him. Gnawing at the bit until you finally get to the point.

“So I thought he was dead, but he wasn’t dead. He was taken by Ever. He’s got a cool arm now, he’ll show you! And–” You clear your throat. Your hands are getting clammy now. “And I really care about him. He’s my friend, and so you have to promise not to kill him, ok?”

“Why would we kill him?” It’s Sylus this time. His voice is hoarse, and he doesn’t make eye contact with you when he speaks. 

“Because he’s from the past too.” You blurt as quickly as you can.

A tense silence falls, Xavier glaring at you to continue while Rafayel mulls this over with a wag of his head. 

“Oh well. Okay?” Rafayel drawls, unimpressed.

“Go on. Tell them.” Xavier bites and you have to look away from the murder in his sapphire eyes. 

“Caleb is the one who told Astra about the Sanctuary, and he added lines to Zayne’s spell.” You feel like you’re vomiting the words. Your stomach is rolling as you speak. It’s hard to fathom saying such a thing and then considering forgiveness afterwards. 

“ What!?” Rafayel roars as he jolts to his feet. Flames lick at his fingertips, an outburst of his Evol in response to his emotion.

Sylus is on his feet too, “You’ll have to repeat yourself, kitten. I don’t think we heard you right.”

Xavier rises to his feet slowly and his Lightblade shimmers into existence. He grasps it tightly and nods, “I’ll do it.”

“You knew?” Rafayel snarls, grabbing Xavier’s sleeve.

“He only knew for like ten minutes!” You shout in Xavier’s defense. “I only learned just now too. I didn’t have any idea that Caleb was even related to the past timeline. I couldn’t– It’s still hard to wrap my head around.”

“I don’t remember him at all.” Sylus says stiffly, crossing his arms, “Not even his scent is familiar.”

“Who cares? Some mortal snitched!” Rafayel hisses, and you can see a sharp blue tinge to his eyes. “Greedy pathetic things! Mettling in places they don’t belong!”

“You can’t kill him.” You say as sternly as you can muster. “What he did– It’s not forgivable, but you can’t–”

“And why not?” Xavier growls, “He took everything from us. Our home, our lives! That world is gone!”

“And what kind of world was it!?” You counter, “We were happy, but every season was a battle. We were surviving on hope and luck! Every year new mouths to feed! Sickness and famine and war! Death at every turn! If not Astra then some other villain would have uprooted us!”

“You cannot be serious.” Rafayel clicks his tongue and scoffs at you, “You cannot be defending him!”

“I am! I will!” You cry, “Just as I would any of you! I can’t forgive– not yet. But I want to try. I want to move on. I want to live and be happy. Is that so wrong?”

“He has to pay for what he’s done.” Sylus rumbles. There’s not outward rage in his body but his eyes gleam with it. The crimson of his irises is as red as the blood he craves to spill. 

“He will.” You reply, “I have an idea, and it’s not great. But I think it works.”

“You seem angry,” Caleb remarks as Zayne removes the blood pressure cuff from his arm.

“Why would I be angry?” Zayne asks sardonically. Pulling out a thermometer and forcefully pushing it beneath Caleb’s tongue. 

“I figure it’s because I got blood on your carpet.” Caleb mumbles around the thermometer. “Or because I faked my death. Either one.”

Zayne scowls at him, unamused by his joke. “Don’t talk anymore. You’ll mess up the reading.”

Caleb snorts and leans back, resting his palms on the bed and waiting until the thermometer beeps. Zayne grabs it and checks it, before wiping it with an alcohol wipe and putting it back in the kit.

“I did it for her.” Caleb says a bit softer, and Zayne’s movements pause for only a moment before he continues to pack away his medical supplies. “To protect her.”

“I know.” Zayne bites out. “But you didn’t have to live with the consequences.”

Zayne harshly zips up the duffel and picks it up.

“What’s that mean?” Caleb scoffs with a tilt to his head, “If you haven’t noticed, I’m living the consequences right now.” He wiggles his metallic fingers to make his point. 

“She believed you were dead.” Zayne says coolly. Always so stoic and calm, even when he was angry. “She shut down. Shut me out. Shut everyone out. Lost her job. Lost her home.”

“I know all that.” Caleb replies tightly.

“And now you hope to come back like nothing happened.” Zayne snaps, accusatory. 

Caleb stands up, and he’s taller than Zayne. Only slightly, but there’s an inch or two there that hadn’t been there for many years. As children, Zayne was always the taller one. He never bragged, but he did raise his nose once or twice when you were all measured for school. 

Even in this life, that feels like a million miles away. 

“I’ll atone for what I’ve done.” Caleb says stonily, “I’ll make it up to her. I’ll make it up to you.” 

Zayne huffs softly and shakes his head, “You’ve always been brash. Stupid even. But you didn’t do anything to me.”

“Didn’t I?” Caleb asks, and Zayne is left feeling confused for a moment. That is until you open the door. 

The two of them turn to you, and you’re a little in awe for a moment. It’s been so long since the three of you were in the same room. Funny, how it feels the same. Zayne and Caleb are facing off for one reason or another. Times change, but boy does it still rhyme.

“Come downstairs. We need to talk.”

"What ?” Caleb blurts in confusion. He’s sitting on the couch alone. Sitting like a child being scolded by his parents only it’s not a pair but five adults all glowering down at him. 

“Are your ears clogged?” Rafayel taunts, “She said you’re our new puppy.”

“I did not say that.” You add quickly, “I said you’re going to be the new housekeeper.”

“That is…” Caleb breathes and then shakes his head like his ears might actually be clogged, “Housekeeper? Pipsqueak that’s–”

“It’s perfect.” You say with a grin. “You can pay off your debt to us, and you’re still nearby! We can move some things downstairs and make you a bedroom down there, and I can give you my schedule. It’s pretty good, if I do say so myself.”

“I have a job,” Caleb adds tentatively. “With the Farspace Fleet.”

“Quit it.” Xavier adds with a smallest of vindictive smiles. “Effective immediately.”

“ Or,” You say, trying to remain diplomatic, “You can take an extended leave. Whatever you have to do. If you want to make it up to us–”

“And keep your miserable, pathetic life.” Sylus add ominously. 

“--and that.” You say with a sigh, “Then you give it up. This is your life now.”

Caleb looks up at you with shock. His eyes flicker over to the others for only a moment at a time. He swallows hard and then his shoulders slacken, “Does that include the house I have in Skyhaven?”

“You have a house in Skyhaven?” You ask.

“I bought it before the explosion.” He explains, “It was–” He clears his throat and says the next part very quietly, “It was where I was hoping we could live after, you know, I took care of Ever.”

“Sell it.” Xavier snaps. 

“Burn it down.” Rafayel says at the same time.

“Not that this flagellation isn’t amusing to watch,” Zayne speaks up, “But is that really necessary? You could rent out the property, use it for passive income during your leave.”

Bless him. Poor ignorant Zayne. You know Zayne isn’t fully aware of why Caleb’s being punished so severely, but what a good sport he’s being nonetheless. Maybe Zayne is a little more vindictive than you thought. 

“I can handle that.” Sylus says haughty. “We can add it to my residential management company. It’ll be in good hands.”

Caleb, with his hands resting on his knees, fidgets a bit, “Is that it then? I become your maid, and I’m okay?”

“Oh believe me, I’m sure we’ll have great fun together.” Rafayel huffs, crossing his arms, “ Don’t mess up the grocery order. If you buy the wrong fish, I’ll fry you.”

“This is your only chance.” Xavier says and it sounds like the condemnation from a king. Judge, jury, and executioner levels Caleb with a deadly cerulean glare. “There will be no second-chances.”

Despite the doom and gloom, you’re elated. Not only are you free from your housekeeping duties, but Caleb is here! It feels like the final piece of the puzzle. That is…if the puzzle was two boxes with different images dumped into one big pile and mixed together. 

“I���m going to sleep!” You say with a triumphant clap of your hands, “I’m going to sleep for twenty-four hours and if anyone wakes me up they’ll be the first to die!”

You go to leave and Caleb stands, “Wait, pipsqueak, what do I do?”

You pause, Xavier peering over your shoulder and glowering like a demonic shadow. The blond had been one step behind you– your eager napping companion. 

“Oh right,” You pull out your phone from your pocket and quickly send Caleb a copy of the lists of housekeeping duties. “You can get started!”

Caleb’s phone buzzes, and he examines the lists with a shell-shocked expression.

He’s still standing there when you walk away, and Rafayel waves at him as he passes to follow you. “Nighty-night puppy!”

<- Previous Next ->

[noira-l]

𝐒𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐭-𝐮𝐩

⋆ ★ '𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞' - 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

chapter summary: your first major argument that really shakes the foundations of everything, including your arrangement and its soul.

pairing: gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader

warnings: is that angst?, hurt/comfort?, swearing, argument, adult life is kinda hard, mature themes, satoru is trying to say something, utahime is the best, spoilers (manga, anime, movie).

author's note: well, I had a rough day. Also, question. Should I open a tag list? Someone ask about this (I remeber you, love ~) So what do you think about the chapter and the idea? Let me know :3

"Listen to me, I've had enough. Screw it." You threw a kitchen cloth over the countertop.

"I'm here to help YOU. Not to do everything for you! You've dumped everything on me and you don't give a shit about anything," you shout, feeling like throwing it all away. He frowned. "You think I'm going to look after the kids by myself and you're going to have free evenings to go off on your own no matter where? Oh no no no. I'm not your fucking housekeeper for you to treat me like that." You pointed your finger at him, your tone rising even more. You felt like starting to laugh at the anger. "Fuck you. I'm not going to put up with this kind of treatment for a second longer." Your step left the sound of a loud thud. He started to follow you.

"You agreed to this yourself, you knew it would be difficult!" you felt like punching him. You picked up your backpack from the wardrobe. You were silent.

"I need time to myself, these missions are exhausting! Still! Taking over the clan, doesn't make it any easier for me at all, you know!" you didn't listen to him at this point, you were on the verge of exploding and you didn't want to do it.

"Don't act like a brat and listen to me!!!" he grabbed you firmly by the arm, you pushed him forcibly away from you, putting your shirts in your backpack. You packed the first necessary things that came your way. Your face was boiling with anger, you felt like shouting everything in his face, but you knew it wouldn't change anything. You clenched your teeth tightly and bit your tongue repeating to yourself - pack, don't think, leave. You passed him on your way out of the room. You were already at the door, started putting on your jacket, when he added:

"FINE! Go away, I never needed you anyway, you stupid idiot!"

The sound of the door slamming was everywhere.

★ --

calling…calling…calling…

"Hello?"

"Hi Utahime…" your voice gave away too much at that moment, as always "Could I stay with you for a while? I can't go back to the flat or to the facility" you grabbed your head, trying to contain your emotions. You were met with silence on the other side "Sorry to impose…. I won't… sorry… I'll go now- I…"

"N-no! It's all right! I'm just worried, what's wrong?" you could hear her worrying about you, you were on the verge of crying, all the anger was slowly draining out of you.

"U-Utahime…" your voice was shaking.

"Never mind, wait for me, please, I'll pick you up myself, I'll be there soon. Wait for me where you usually do, can you do it?"

"Mhm." tears began to run down your cheeks.

A long sigh "What did that idiot do to you this time?"

★ --

You spent the evening glued to a box of ice cream and a comfortable couch in Utahime's flat. You sat in her borrowed clothes, covered in a blanket, gesturing heavily as you expressed your emotions.

It started with an angry session in which you spouted off about what a horrible asshole Gojo is. You recounted in detail, how he forgot to pick up the kids from school, leaving them out in the cold often. How he was constantly late, whether to go shopping with you or to a parents' meeting at school. How he avoided household chores, which you later had to do after missions, and at worst his duties were filled by Tsumiki and Megumi. It wasn't that they didn't have household duties or didn't know how to take care of the house - no. You didn't know any more mature or understanding children, it was just that Gojo lived there too and should contribute as much as you did. For the last months, everything was done by you: laundry, shopping, cleaning, doing homework with Tsumiki and helping Megumi with calligraphy.

On top of that, you had missions that were also exhausting you mentally, coming home battered, in wounds because you didn't want to wake Shoko up at 3am and preferred to wait until morning. And every morning it was you, who walked the children to school. It doesn't matter if you were beating a powerful curse last night or if you slept at all. They always had breakfast ready, clothes and your smile every morning. You knew they deserved it - you wanted to give it to them.

As you came home from school on the days like this, did your shopping, went to Shoko's and came back, you thought of nothing else, but to lie down and rest. It was then that you allowed yourself moments of weakness, where you could carelessly cry all over the house, with no embarrassment that the children, or worse Satoru, would hear you. Your life has been awful for the last while. There have been better moments, but there have been far more of the worse ones.

It was then, that the crying session began.

You couldn't stop the tears that were streaming down your cheeks. You didn't say anything anymore. You just cried, hugging your pillow tighter.

Utahime only saw you cry once, that time when Geto left. And that was the only time. This one was the second.

She handed you a pack of tissues, which you took advantage of by resisting new tears. After which you immediately went back to hugging the lovely cushion.

Why did you agree to all this in the first place?

Why did you allow yourself to do something like this?

Looking after children is not an easy thing to do, especially when you are alone.

.

.

Suguru would never treat you like this.

If you thought before that you were more or less in control of your crying, so after that thought, you definitely lost all the control you had. It was no longer a cry. It was hysterical. And you are not going to snap out of it any time soon.

★ --

"What are you doing?" the white-haired sat on the steps, drinking a can of sweet drink. They had just finished their training.

"I'm going to talk to her." said the raven-haired getting up from his seat, heading towards the dormitories.

"HUH? What for? She's the one who blew up at you, after all. She should be making an effort now." He crushed the can with cursed energy. His friend sighed.

"You don't understand, do you? It is not that clear, besides I care about her. I understand her view of the situation and even though it's wrong, I'm willing to talk to her about it." Suguru put his hands in his pockets slowly moving away.

"Stupid, why bother." Satoru rolled his eyes looking at the training field.

"Because she is important to me, her opinion, thoughts and feelings are important." he turned towards him, he continued. "A joint solution to the problem is important. In moments like this, it's crucial to push away your tantrums and reach out to someone." Suguru looked ahead "There have been situations where I have made a mistake and she has come to me on her own" he smiled affectionately "I appreciate her for this approach and I love her for it."

-

Satoru opened his eyes, waking up from the slumber that had caught him. He rubbed his eyes, glancing at the clock; it was late at night. Instinctively, he glanced to the other side of the bed to find it empty and cold.

He clutched his head, remembering what had happened. He growled quietly. You haven't come back yet, it's past day two, he's starting to worry, the siblings keep asking about you too. And he doesn't know what to answer them. Should he say you're gone because of him? He's already punishing himself enough in his head.

He nervously turned on his bed. What should he do?

He knows perfectly well what he should do.

To go to you and apologise is difficult.

On the very first day he called all your friends, to find out where you were. Utahime only failed to answer, so he was sure you were there.

He growled rolling over onto his stomach in frustration. He hugged the pillow tightly, so that if it were alive he would have strangled it.

Why do you make everything so difficult?

It was supposed to be a simple arrangement: you help him with the kids, he provides everything you need. Like some stupid traditional marriage - he thought.

This was not how he had imagined it. In his mind, taking care of a kid was not that difficult. Oh boy, he was wrong. Originally he was only going to take Megumi in, you were the one who insisted that he couldn't separate siblings like that, and since you'd already agreed to the arrangement, you also had a say. He only agreed to it because you insisted.

He did not expect things to go this far. He never imagined that he would have to falsify the children's documents (Tsumiki was, according to the law, already unfit for adoption), look for a suitable flat that you could barely afford at first, or bother with the authorities and social services.

He himself was also too young to understand many things.

He knew that anything was better than letting the Zen'in clan get their hands on these kids.

He also knew that he would not have succeeded in many things without you.

His face clung completely to the pillow. It was your pillow, it smelled of you. He took it from your side as soon as he lay down.

Everything had been getting to him lately. Higher-ups had some doubts about him taking over the clan, which was ridiculous in general. His mother found out about his secret marriage, which meant he had to listen for hours on ‘how he had disgraced the whole clan’. He had to work twice as much, having a child and expenses were really considerable. Even if you shared expenses, Gojo did not yet have access to the clan's money, to throw his own money on left and right with ease. He also stopped feeling like a teenager at this point, by taking on these responsibilities, he has accept to a certain extent, the fate of an adult.

He didn't even notice, how much he started to run away from it, to distance himself, from his problems and worries. He was never in the habit of sharing his true feelings or emotions. Opening up to someone was blocked again when his best friend left. He knew, that he had let you look inside him once, at one memorable conversation. He was so weak in that moment, so shattered, after all that had happened. And you? You embraced him then, with a tenderness and care he could never have dreamed of. He knew that if only he opened up again now, you would do exactly the same. But he couldn't afford to do it again.

He didn't want to feel that he wasn't able to cope with something, again. It's silly, isn't it? He, the strongest, vulnerable?

But you saw him vulnerable. You didn't laugh at him, didn't mock him in that moment. You were tender, you showed him understanding, even if sometimes you didn't quite understand what he wanted to communicate to you, you tried. You hugged him close, stroked his hair, telling him that you would be there for him, whenever he needed you - you would be there for him, as long as he was there for you.

He wasn't there for you, was he?

He was so focused on himself that he forgot about you. You've had a tough time too, particularly with him. You were alone with it all. No. He left you alone with it all. That's not what your agreement was about, that's not how he promised to behave, that's not how he really was.

He acted like an asshole. He dumped all his responsibilities on you and yet had the audacity to complain, that you had not fulfilled one little thing, which was picking up his ceremonial outfit from the laundry, what he should do, but he was sent on mission.

A small tear appeared in the corner of his crystal eyes. It disappeared very quickly absorbed by the pillow. He shouldn't treat you like that. He sighed breathlessly, banging his head against the soft pillow.

Tomorrow he will go to apologize to you. Witnter snow was slowly falling outside the window.

He won't last another day without you.

★ --

"Utahime~~ Nice to see-" she closed the door in front of his nose, sighing with irritation, regretting that her apartment door did not have a peephole.

You just had breakfast, looking like a total crap. You just got up, even though it was late in the morning, according to your routine you should have taken the siblings to school long ago.

Hearing his voice immediately lifted your gaze from your plate. How did he find you? Why did he come here?

Ah, well, yes, he probably came to ask you to fulfill your part of the bargain and stop dabbling. You sighed. You couldn't stay at Utahime's for that long anyway, you didn't want to bother her, besides, you hadn't packed enough clothes and necessities.

You didn't want to see him at this point, but you had no choice. You spent the last two days crying, you were fed up with it yourself.

You moved away from the kitchen table, put your plate in the sink and headed for the door.

"Go away! Don't you understand that she doesn't want to see you!" Utahime shouted at the door, angrly.

"Ee~ Come on, open the door. I want to talk to her, she won't answer my calls and texts, what a man can do?" his tone did not at all betray how concerned he was about the situation. His mask was perfect enough, that he was even able to smile a little in this situation. Although he was quite cold, despite really warm winter jacket, in his kinda shakey hands he held a small bouquet of flowers behind him.

"Go to hell you moron, I also, don't want to see you too, go away or I'm calling authorities!"

"Don't be like that! Five minutes and I'll be gone! Do a friend a favour~"

"I'm not your friend!"

"Like hell you are! I saved you many times, that counts right? Like that time when I excorcise that curse that took you hostage for two days. Or that time when I-"

Utahime was about to hurl another insult in his direction when you placed your hand on her shoulder. “It's okey, give me a moment,” you whispered it so quietly that you wondered if you really said it. Her gaze expressed concern and yours expressed certainty. He had found you anyway, so why drag this out any longer? You knew he won't leave until you talk to him. “Call me as if you need something, or as if he doesn't give you a break." the violet-haired fell silent, moving away from the door and walking deeper into the apartment.

He didn't stop talking when you stood in front of the closed door. His yapping was unbearable, happily listing or coloring situations that happened to him with Utahime.

"Or when I-" he shut up when you open the door. He looked at you.

"You look like shit" he said.

"Thanks for noticing, something else to say?"

You had bags under your eyes, your voice was raspy and you looked paler than usual. When you looked in his direction, he could see how red your eyes were. He really messed up. He took a deep breath.

"If you came here to remind me of my duties, or to tell me that I'm going on a mission soon, or just to make fun of me, then go away and save us the time." you were so exhausted, however, seeing his face, which was smiling just a moment ago, gave you a new drive.

"I-"

"Ughh.. I am so done with this." you growled "You come here after two days and the first thing you find is that I look like shit? Thanks, I didn't notice!"

"Listen.." his voice is kinda...soft?

"NO! You listen!"

"O-okey..."

"Why are you acting like a brat? I've been doing practically everything for you for the past year! You disappeared for a few days, you didn't say anything, it's cool, I understand, you need space, yadda, yadda.." your voice has started to rise again "But damn it, that's not what we agreed on, I didn't sign up for doing all the work for this part of your life!" you clenched your hands into fists.

"Besides, I also have my own life, right? I'm not entitled to have a free time? Do you know how many times I came home after a mission completely tired? I wasn't at Shoko's more than once, I just went straight to make breakfast, because I knew YOU wouldn't do it!" he see how your expression is changing, now tears appear in your angry eyes.

"I-" he tried again, only to see that his voice stattered.

"Why do you do this to me?! Why can't you treat me like a normal human being?! What did I do to you?!" An avalanche of questions flowed from your mouth, again and again, just as tears covered your cheeks "Am I just a plaything to you?" you started to shake.

"N-no!" he tightened his grip on the bouquet.

"I fell so fucking used!" you started sobbing "You used me and my kindness to make life easier for yourself-" you sniffle "-you never cared about anyone or anything at all!" you looked at his winter boots, although your vision blurred completely.

"Stop! No-I-"

"I can understand, really, you may not feel anything towards these children, but me? I thought you really cared then! I thought you were sincere and open then, when…. we had… this conversation" you were slowly running out of words, the pace of this conversation was slowing down. You almost feel panic in your vains.

"Stop!" he grabbed you by the shoulder with one hand, and put the other to your lips, letting go of the bouquet of flowers, which fell to the floor. You didn't say anything anymore, you couldn't, he's hands were trembling.

"Please.. j-just..listen.." you wanted to turn away, he stopped you. The sight of you crying internally caused him pain, somehow.

"I-.. I am sorry..you're right." his voice was almost silent, despite the fact that he was close to you. Your eyes met his and despite the layer of glass, you knew he was looking at you.

"I-I am an idiot" his breathing was deep, as if saying these words made it difficult for him, or a great struggle, took his hand from your mouth, placed it on your cheek, his head went down "I've had.. I.. well.. the thing is.." he swallowed the massive lump that had gathered in his throat

"N-no.. ple-" you tried to say something.

"This.. this is hard..!! Just.." now his voice is trembling, you don't know what is happening.

"You.. don't know how hard are thing for me now.. I've.." long pause filled with nervous breath "Listen.. I know.. I've been awful to you.. y-you didn't deserve it of course.. I hurt you.. and I-I am sorry, so so sorry.."

"If this is some kind of trick to get me back-"

"No!" he imidietly put his sight to you, he look terriefied, you could see throught the glasses "I mean it.. " you looked away. He signed nervously.

"I left you with all of this.. I let you down.. I'm sorry.." he swiped away any tear that come close to falling down your red cheeks "I don't expect this to fix.. I m-mean my apology.. to fix anything.. but please" his hand was so cold, yet the sensation from this was so calming.

"Let me get this right.. I-I-I will never, ever let you down again.. one chance.. If you want to!" Do you want to? "If no.. I-I promise to back off! I leave you alone! I-I'll never hurt you again! and I'll do anything you say!" his words were speeding up "I will provide..I will make everything right.. I will try to.." his words were rapid, so fast, he almost couldn't keep up with saying every one of it. You started sobbing again. To much emotions cought you off guard.

"n-no don't cry.. please" he wispered, his second hand also landed on your cheek, you closed your eyes unable to even look at him.

He drew himself to you, embracing you whole. You could then feel how much his chest was rising in stress, and how wet his jacket was from the melted snow. His hair was also slightly wet, the glasses at his nose irritated your skin, they were so cold. But this embrace was warm, he held you like something important, precious even. Large hands stroked your back, his breath started to calm down, just like yours. You didn't know how long he held you like this.

"Please.." he started again "Try to forgive me. I.." at this moment you hugged him too, he pressed himself more to you.

"I don't want to lose you." You almost missed it, it was soft and silenty brethless, but it was full of emotions.

You waited, a long moment. A long moment when you thought about everything. You were thinking about him, your life, Tsumiki and Megumi. You didn't want to lose him too. In some way. He was the only thing that held you together. Also you don't know what you should do with your life, and he gave you a purpouse. A purpouse you were desperatly lacking. The kids gave you hope, and even thought you'll need to listen to his annoying voice every day, this is the price you could accept.

"Fine.." you said, gathering your voice to even be able to speak. You are far too soft for him. Oh, for fuck sake. "I.. forgive you.. for now." he froze.

You slowly left his embrace. Then grabbed him tightly by the collar of his jacket, pulling his face toward you "But if you do that again, I'm leaving. And don't even try to look for me. Understood?" you wanted to sound menacing, but your voice was so hoarse and the height difference between you was large enough, that it didn't work out well.

"Of course" smile appeared on his face again "You look cute y'know.." he mumbled, you let him go, growling, you looked down and see something behind his foot.

"What's that?" you asked, he quickly kicked something behind him, you heard something hit the ground on the bottom of the staircase.

"What?" he turned around to look behind and back, playfully "I don't see antything." his smile was so bright.

"Never mind." you signed.

"Let me take you home." this offer suprised you, Satoru could tell by the look "The kids miss you.. and I took your favourite take out." you looked at him suspiciously "I also cleaned the house and took kids to school."

"Now I don't belive you." you crossed your arms, he laught.

"You'll see when we get home." he corrected his glasses still smiling. "I did pretty amazing job, maybe even better than you."

"You're starting again?"

bonus:

You left Utahime's apartment thanking her for all she had done for you, saying that if she needed help, you were always available to her. She hugged you goodbye, measuring Satoru with a menacing gaze, and he waved her off, smiling goofily.

Walking down the staircase, Satoru took your backpack from you and gave you your gloves. The snow was still falling outside and it was quite cold.

When you were at the exit you noticed out of the corner of your eye a colorful bouquet of flowers, it was really pretty and quite small. You are sure you have seen these colors somewhere.

“Look.” you pointed your finger at the bouquet “Someone left it here, I wonder who it was for?” he scoffed.

“Quite ugly for me.” He didn't even look at it, just opened the door in front of him.

© noira-l | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, or redistirbute my work without permission

tl: @kalopsia-flaneur

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Precious Truths: Part 8

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Summary: After your father finds out you’ve been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month’s time.

A/N: I will not be taking tags for this series!

Series Masterlist

You and Benedict spent the previous night talking until it was well late into the night. He escorted you back to your home to ensure nothing bad happened to you. No one had seen, of course, since all of the Ton was asleep.

Before stepping back into your home, you gave Benedict a hug, "You will always be my dearest friend, Ben. Never forget that."

He swallowed down the deep rooted desire to inform you of his affections. He can't. He mustn't. No matter how much he's been wanting to for so long.

_____________________

Because James was a friend of Simon and Daphne's, the Duchess decided to throw a celebratory ball at the Clyvedon Castle for your engagement. You tried to decline, but Daphne, much like her mother, is very persistent and convincing. You, Aunt Eliza, James, Auggie, and Daphne all rode back to Clyvedon together.

You had only gone to the castle once and that was for the ball Daphne held after she and Simon married. It was just as beautiful as you remembered.

Simon was there ready to greet his wife and son with open arms.

Daphne steps out of the carriage with the coachman's help, Auggie asleep in her arms.

Simon smiles as he approaches his wife, kissing her head and looking down at his son, "Back in my arms again."

He looks past Daphne and gives you and your aunt a nod, "I see you have come back with a few more guests than when you left, my love," he gives Daphne a teasing look.

She rolls her eyes at her husband, "I wrote to you informing of our added guests as well as the ball I plan to hold here in honor of James and Y/N's engagement."

Simon sighs, "I've yet to read this morning's letters. I have been busy."

Daphne gives him an understanding nod and the stands to the side as Simon walks over to you, your aunt, and James.

"Congratulations to you both. Excuse me for my surprise to your arrival, Y/N. I have been behind on my letters."

"I understand, Your Grace. And thank you for allowing my aunt and myself to stay here up until the ball."

"You are a friend of Daphne's, Y/N. You are always welcome here." he looks over his shoulder and gestures to the housekeeper, "Mrs. Colson, here, will show you to your rooms. I will let you all rest until dinner. Now if you excuse me, I'd like to spend some time with my family."

"Of course, Your Grace. Thank you again for your hospitality," Aunt Eliza says with a bow and watches with a smile as Simon escorts Daphne and Auggie inside.

James looks at you with soft eyes, "Would you like to take a walk around the grounds after you rest?"

"I'd enjoy that very much," he tips his hat to you and your aunt, "I shall see you later then." He then heads inside the castle to get some rest for himself.

________________________

"Benedict, I know this must be painful for you, but you need to show face! If not for Y/N then at least for Daphne," Violet Bridgerton looks at her second son as if he'd grown a second head.

Benedict had just informed his family that he will not be attending the ball Daphne is holding for you and Lord Montclair.

"I apologize, mother, but I already have prior engagements."

"What prior engagements?"

Benedict looks at his mother and the rest of his siblings. He sits up, "Well, I have an interview with the headmaster of an art academy."

"That's amazing, brother!" Hyacinth exclaims in excitement.

"Which academy?" Anthony asks.

"One in France."

"France?!" Gregory's jaw drops, "How did you get an interview?"

"I wrote a letter to them and a friend put in a good word for me."

Anthony scoffs, "You let a friend help you and it is fine. But when I help you, you get upset."

"This friend didn't use money to help my case, brother," Benedict practically sneers. He's clearly still a bit upset about Anthony practically buying his way into the academy. But this time, Benedict's work, determination, and Henry Granville's word, helped him. Not Anthony's money and status as Viscount.

"Well, I suppose I cannot be upset by that. Well done, Benedict."

He grins at Violet, "Thank you, mother."

___________________

Daphne was meant to be a duchess. Violet truly taught her well, you think, as you watch her list off orders and demands to Mrs. Colson and staff. You let her do her thing, occasionally answering questions in regards to what color theme you wanted, the flower arrangements, the entertainment, etc. Other than that, Daphne took the reigns of it all. You admired the young woman.

"Shall we take a break?" Daphne asks as she guides you to the balcony that overlooks the grounds. Some glasses of lemonade are out waiting for you both.

You both sit and sip from your glasses. You sigh, "You were truly meant for this life, Daphne. You fill the role so well."

"Soon you will be in a position similar to mine," she states with a smile.

You let out a deep breath, looking out to the grounds, "Yes, I suppose I will be. I am not sure I am as well prepared as you are."

"I'm sure your aunt has done the best she could. However, if you have any questions, I will be happy to answer them." She shoots you a grin.

You chuckle, "You might regret that, Your Grace."

"Ah, I was wondering where my fiancée had gone," you hear the marquess say as he steps onto the balcony. Fiancée. It was so odd that you were a fiancée now. Even weirder that your husband to be isn't a certain Bridger-no. You mentally scold yourself for thinking about Benedict. You need to not think of him anymore. You and he are not meant to be. Not now. Not ever.

You look up at him from your seat, "Yes. We were just taking a break from planning the ball. To be honest, Daphne is doing majority of the work. Also, I hope you don't mind, but I chose lavender as the colors."

"Not at all. I think you'd look beautiful in the color," James smiles at you and you can't help but shy from his gaze.

You clear your throat, "Yes, it is one of my favorite colors so if you are not fond of it, then we might have to rethink this marriage." You respond playfully, causing the marquess and duchess to chuckle.

"You are a funny one, mon cher," he looks to Daphne, "Is it alright if I steal her away for some time together?"

"Of course not, my Lord," Daphne says as she stands. She smooths out her dress and pats James' arm, "I should get back to planning anyway." She nods to both of you and enters her home, leaving you two alone.

James occupies the spot Daphne previously resided, "I should let you know that my family will also be attending this ball. I figured now would be the best time rather than at the wedding."

You nod, "Of course. I'd love to meet them. Both your parents and sisters will be in attendance?"

"That is correct. I must warn you, my sisters can be rather mischievous," he smirks at you and you giggle.

"Oh, I have experience with mischievous. Growing up with the Bridgertons has made me quite familiar with mischievous."

"My sisters will love you then. They are twins. Both ten and two. My mother does her best to raise them as young ladies, but," he shrugs with a guiltily, "I like to show them a few tricks here and there."

You laugh, "I can imagine the scoldings your mother gives you for teaching your sisters such 'un-ladylike' behavior."

He shrugs again, "I tend to be a bit more progressive in the notion of what women can and cannot do."

"That's...that's very relieving to here, my Lord."

"And why is that?"

You didn't plan on telling James your secret until well after you two married. However, an opportunity to come clean has presented itself. You've come to learn that James is kind, understanding, loving, compassionate, and open to the idea of women having more freedom.

Previously, you were apprehensive about telling James your secret, that you were writing under a man's name to publish your work. But now, you felt even more relieved and comfortable to know he most likely wouldn't treat you differently because you are pursuing your passion.

You let out a deep breath and reach out to James, placing your hand on his, "I must confess something to you."

"Yes?"

You open your mouth to confess, but you're interrupted as Mrs. Colson steps out, "Pardon me, miss, but her Grace has asked for you."

You nod, "Alright. I shall be with her in a moment."

Mrs. Colson retreats and you groan, "I must admit that I've lost my nerve now."

James places his other hand atop yours, "It's alright. Whenever you are ready to tell me, I shall listen with an open mind and heart."

You lean in and kiss his cheek, "I truly don't deserve you, my Lord."

He grins and stands, holding his hand out to you, "Come. Let's not keep the duchess waiting." you two walk together, hand in hand to meet with Daphne.

[ecoterrorist-katara]

meta list + blog nav

turns out most of my metas are just me being salty about the way Bryan and Mike wrote Katara...more news at 11...

Katara’s parentification

the tragedy of Katara’s parentification & (context: parentified children as maladjusted children)

Katara’s crush on Jet

Toph brings out Katara’s inner child & Toph and Suki as people Katara didn't have to take care of

Katara’s post-ATLA arc

Katara didn’t want a quiet life after the war

Katara was a role model and her post-ATLA arc is a failure in representation

Katara being the Chief of the SWT wouldn't conflict with LOK's plot or her relationship

Katara would’ve been an amazing diplomat

Why Katara’s specific healer career didn’t fit her character

bloodbending & why Katara banning it could be in character in a sad way

Zutara & Zutara discourse

Zutara, romance novels, & the female gaze

“Zutara is a self-insert ship” is not a burn, it’s just misogyny

Is Zutara colonizer x colonized: my serious take, my less serious take

the crystal catacombs & how Katara sees Zuko’s pain

Zutara's two distinct ship dynamics

Why I think the way Ka/taang is written is male gaze-y

(KA is just one of those "bitch eating crackers" ships for me...block the #anti kataang tag if you don't want to see it)

Ka/taang: friends-to-lovers or the friend zone?

How Ka/taang is written to be one-sided

Aang’s not a “feminist icon” because the only stereotypically masculine part of his arc is his romance

Misc. character stuff (not just ATLA)

Aang's nuances beyond "sunshine boy"

Rethinking Hama's storyline + some thoughts on the symbolism of bloodbending

Some thoughts on Hermione being autistic coded & her flaws

Blog housekeeping/tags navigation under the cut

Tag Navigation

asks are tagged #can i ask you a question (yeah that's a TSwift ref even though there's minimal Tayposting on this blog); all my metas are tagged #my meta; Zutara fic recs are tagged #zutara fic recs. #zutara and other ship tags (e.g. #azutara) usually contain art, misc ship things, and metas

frequently used salty tags include #anti kataang, #anti bryke, and #katara deserved better

Original posts that involve analysis of Harry Potter are tagged #ref: hp for blocking purposes. I don’t financially support JKR or her harmful rhetoric & actions against trans people, but I choose to engage with parts of the HP fandom that reject her views. In the HP context, I am most likely to talk about #hermione granger. I like Dramione, but I also like Ron quite a lot. I'm very into Wolfstar.

Fundraisers

I post fundraisers that have been verified by third parties. Unfortunately I don't have the bandwidth to verify fundraisers myself.

Fandom Housekeeping

I don't make callout posts of specific users, even if I decide to block them myself, so please don’t use my ask box for that purpose!

[stevie-petey]

episode two: the weirdo on maple street

Trying to ease the awkwardness, you hold up a poster and offer it to them, but Steve snatches it from your grasp. “Henderson, didn’t know you were also a little know-it-all. Why don’t you share your review sheet with the rest of us?” He says, casting a teasing look your way. It isn’t until he inspects the piece of paper that he finally notices that it’s a missing poster for a child, not a review sheet. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.” You snatch the poster back from him. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

Summary: you use your limited psych knowledge to help a bald girl, you force jonathan to accept $20 and he's later an ass to you, steve doesn't know what a "missing" poster looks like, and it's really hard being a single mother to now four kids.

Rating: general, but there's cursing as usual and steve being... well, steve - but hes still season 1 steve so give him some time

Warnings: cursing, fem!reader, use of y/n, and there's more angst in this chapter with some fighting between reader and jonathan, so fair warning.

Words: 10.1k (the longest thing ive ever written)

Before you swing in: i'm almost done with chapter 4, so here's a sweet treat as i cram for exams lmao. some housekeeping: should i do a tag list ? i got a few questions about it, so pls let me know soldiers. also, i feel the need to clarify that i adore nancy but for plot reasons - reader and her don't really get along (but they def will later, trust me). season 1 nancy and steve are just so silly. anyways, i hope y'all enjoy this loooong chapter. the rest definitely aren't as lengthy due to plot, but wow. i amazed myself. carry on !

-

Your jeans drip onto the Wheeler’s carpet, and you’ve definitely left a wet imprint on the couch cushion beneath you. The other boys are dripping as well, but all their attention is on the girl in front of them. 

After finding her in the woods, your motherly instincts kicked in, immediately removing your coat to place on her and gently ushering her to your bike and demanding that the boys go back to Mike’s. Your mom is home, so your house was out of the question, and it’s always been easy sneaking into the Wheeler’s, anyways. 

Once you all had made it back, you guided the girl onto the couch and sat next to her. You refuse to let her go too far from you, having no idea where she came from or why, but regardless you know she’s too young for any of it to have been good. 

Which leads you to now: wearily watching the boys stare at the girl as if she’s some science experiment, asking her a million questions a second.

Bless them and their little prepubescent minds. 

Lucas reaches out to touch her, and before you can nudge him away, Mike slaps at his hand. “Stop it! You’re freaking her out!”

“She’s freaking me out!” Lucas retaliates, which honestly? That’s fair. The girl hasn’t said anything yet, even after your multiple attempts to get her to do so. No matter how much you try, you can’t coax a response out of her. 

“I bet she’s deaf.” Your brother offers, suddenly clapping his hands to scare her, making both you and her flinch. “Not deaf…”

You roll your eyes at him. “Guys, she’s probably just really scared right now. We should give her some space,” you look at both Lucas and Dustin, “and time,” now you look at Mike. The three boys deflate a bit. 

“She’s probably cold,” Mike says after a moment of silence, and you nod at his suggestion. Seeing your agreement, he walks over to a basket of clothes and takes out some pajamas.

While Mike is away, thunder rumbles and the girl jumps, unconsciously getting closer to you. You wrap an arm around her reassuringly, making note that she doesn’t like loud noises. If anything, she’s showing more and more signs of trauma response, which makes you uneasy. You remember Hopper saying something about Will being in danger. What are the odds that this little girl was running from something as well?

“Here, these are clean.” Mike’s return breaks you from your thoughts, and you take the clothes from him and stand up. You thank him, then offer your hand to the girl. She looks at you uncertainly. 

“It’s okay,” you reassure her. “Let’s go get you dressed in some warm clothes. I’m right here, sweetheart.” 

“She’s super nice.” Dustin says, trying to help.

Lucas adds, “Yeah, you can trust her.” 

“She’s alright.” Is all Mike offers.

You give them all an appreciative smile, even if Mike is being a bit of an ass, and then you feel a small, cold hand wrap around yours. The girl stands up, looking around shyly, and you lead her to the bathroom. When you go to close the door, she stops you.

Mike has followed, seeing the interaction. “You don’t want it closed?”

Her voice is quiet, solemn. “No,”

You and Mike look at each other, and he voices what you’re thinking. “So you can speak.”

He looks excited about this new information, and you shove his head out of the doorway. She needs to get dressed. “We’ll leave the door cracked, okay?”

She nods at you, and you stand guard outside the door. It’s not that you don’t trust the boys, but Mike has only known her for ten minutes and he’s already been nicer to her than you’ve ever seen him with anyone else. The only other person he’s this soft spoken to is Will, so you’re protective of her. 

You can hear the boys discussing tonight’s events from the living area while the girl gets dressed. They sound scared, and a part of you can’t blame them. While you’re fairly certain that the girl isn’t dangerous, it’s still a creepy situation. Once again, Hopper’s new theory surrounding Will floats through your mind. This all can’t be some coincidence. 

Sighing, you approach the boys and catch a bit of the conversation. 

“Our houses become Alcatraz.” You hear Lucas saying, and you figure they’ve finally pieced together that there’s no way any of you can tell anyone about the girl. None of you were supposed to be out tonight. As much as you know you should tell an adult, you also need to be able to help Jonathan with finding Will. If your mom locks the house down, you’re doomed. 

“Lucas is right,” the boys turn to you. “We can’t go to anyone about this just yet, but I also don’t think it’s a good idea to hide her. She’s been through something terrible, it’s obvious. Tonight, I say she gets some rest. We can figure out what to do later.” 

Mike nods, for once agreeing wholeheartedly with you. “She’ll sleep here tonight-”

Dustin’s eyes widen in horror, “You’re letting a girl-”

You clamp your hand over his mouth, motioning for Mike to continue.

“Thanks, Y/N. In the morning, she sneaks around my house, goes to the front door and rings my doorbell. My mom will answer and know exactly what to do. She’ll send her back to Pennhurst,”

They think she’s from Pennhurst? You think, but don’t verbalize it.

“Or wherever she comes from. We’ll be totally in the clear! And tomorrow night, we go back out, and this time we find Will.”

You gotta hand it to Mike Wheeler, he may be a pain in the ass, but he’s a smart pain in the ass. The plan is pretty sound, so long as he follows through with it. However, it’s him following through with it that leaves you a bit unsure. 

He looks at you for approval, and you hesitantly nod. “It’s a pretty good plan, Wheeler. So long as you stick to it.” 

Lucas and Dustin nod along with you, there’s an unspoken sense of doubt that Mike will actually be able to turn the girl over to his mom. Then she walks out, dressed now in some of Nancy’s old clothes. She draws into herself when you all turn to her, shy. You walk over and offer your hand again, which she accepts. 

“Mike, go find her something to sleep on. Dustin, we gotta go soon before mom notices we’re gone.”

Both boys comply, with Mike searching for a sleeping bag and Dustin packing up his stuff. You crouch down next to the girl, so that you’re face to face, and give her a warm smile. “It was lovely meeting you. My name is Y/N, I hope Mike over there doesn’t give you a hard time tonight.” 

Mike flips you off, having heard you. “If he’s annoying,” you lean in close to her now, whispering in her ear. “You have my permission to pinch him.”

The girl giggles, finally relaxing a bit, and you warm with pride. She’ll be okay, she seems like a very resilient girl and you’ll oddly miss her. 

The two other boys are waiting for you upstairs. You all wish Mrs. Wheeler a good night and head out. Thankfully the rain has now stopped, so the bike ride home isn’t bad. You stop at Lucas’ turn to make sure he gets home safely before finally arriving at your place. As Dustin begins pedaling into your driveway, you don’t follow. 

“I’m going to go see Jonathan, he didn’t answer my calls earlier and I just…”

Dustin waves at you, not even bothering to turn around. “Yeah yeah, go see your boyfriend. If mom asks, you’re asleep.” 

“He’s not my boyfriend-”

“Are you seriously going to argue with me after I offered to cover for you?”

Your brother gives you a pointed look, and you know he’s right. “Touché.” 

Dustin goes to leave, but you quickly grab at his jacket. “Before I forget, swear to me that you’ll keep me updated if anything weird happens, okay?”

He nods at you, knowing better than to argue, and gives you a mock salute as he heads inside. 

The living room light is on when you arrive at the Byers home, despite the late hour, but you aren’t surprised. You knock on the door and wait. When no one comes, you knock again, a bit louder this time. After another few moments, the door swings open. 

Jonathan has a finger over his lips in a shushing manner, motioning to Joyce who is passed out on the couch. You nod, letting him know you understand. The two of you go to his room and when he closes the door, you finally get a good look at him. He looks worse than he did earlier, the bags under his eyes have somehow gotten darker. His hair is a mess, his eyes bloodshot. 

“You’re soaked.” Jonathan says. 

“Yeah,” he doesn’t want to talk about it yet, so you play along. “Got caught in the rain. Are some of my spare clothes still in your bottom drawer?”

He nods at you, going over and grabbing a t-shirt and pajama pants for you. You accept them gratefully and excuse yourself to the bathroom to change. Your bones are cold, the rain seemingly having penetrated the layers of your skin. In the mirror you see that your own eyes are bloodshot; you don’t look much better than Jonathan, really.

When you return Jonathan is sitting on his bed, so you join him. It’s silent between you, all you can hear is his breathing. You stare straight ahead, so does he, and you wait. You’ve only seen Jonathan like this a handful of times, where the stress and anxiety becomes too much for him. He shuts down, draws into himself, and all you can do is wait for him to return to you; he always does. 

“Mom got a call tonight.” Jonathan’s voice is hoarse, and he looks frail. You wonder if he ever did end up making the spaghetti you prepared for him.

“Who was it?”

He swallows heavily, taking a moment to respond. “She said it was Will.”

“Will?” You look at him now, searching for any signs on his face, his voice lacks emotion. By the way he stares blankly ahead, as if he’s not really present with you right now, you know that it hadn’t been Will on the other end. 

“She started freaking out, going ballistic,” his voice cracks a bit, so you take a chance and reach for his hand. He lets you take it, giving you a squeeze, before continuing. “She was screaming, begging whoever it was to give Will back.” 

Jonathan pauses again. You don’t say anything, because no words will help. He’s never been the type for comforting words, anyways. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. “It wasn’t him. Lightning struck and our phone got charred. It wasn’t Will.”

Now it’s your turn to squeeze Jonathan’s hand. He doesn’t deserve any of this. None of the Byers do. Out of the entire town, they’re the family who deserves the most that life can give. Will, too good. Jonathan, too selfless. Joyce, too loving. They’re the best damn people you know. 

“I tried calming her down, but she was hysterical. She’s only asleep right now because she worked herself up too much and passed out. I’m worried she-'' Jonathan shakes his head, as if ashamed by his own words. “I’m worried she’s going crazy, Y/N.”

He’s quiet again, but you can tell he’s about to break. His knee is now bouncing up and down and his breathing has become slightly ragged. Everything from today has been building up, it was only a matter of time before he snapped. You’re also worried about Joyce, a part of you skeptical to believe her, but the little girl you found tonight in the rain? Something was definitely weird about Will’s disappearance, but you’re hesitant to tell Jonathan just yet. For all you know, she could’ve simply been a girl who got lost and will be returned to her family tomorrow. 

You don’t want to worry Jonathan any more than you need to.

“I should’ve been there for him. I shouldn’t have taken that shift.” He gasps out, and like a dam the tears begin to fall. You’re quick to pull him into a hug and he crumbles into you. His body shakes with violent sobs and he clutches at you as if afraid you’ll leave.

“You can’t blame yourself.” You whisper, stroking a hand through his hair. He cries even harder, the force of it almost enough to knock you over, so you situate yourself so that you’re fully on the bed, laying against his pillows, with Jonathan crying into your chest beside you. 

“He’s g-gone.”

“We’ll find him, I promise.” Your own tears threaten to come out, but you force them down. You have to be here for him, he needs you. The only other time Jonathan has so openly cried was when Lonnie left years ago. He’s been holding everything in since then, all those years of looking after his family, taking care of his brother, getting harassed by assholes like Tommy Hagan. 

Neither of you say anything else, and you know that Jonathan needs to let it all out. You soothe him as best as you can, running a hand through his hair, stroking his back, reassuring him over and over again that none of this is his fault until your own voice becomes hoarse. You don’t know how long you stay like this, but sometime during the night Jonathan finally falls asleep, and you follow shortly after him. 

— 

Sunlight streams through Jonathan’s spare bed sheet that he’s pinned over his window, serving as a makeshift curtain, waking you up. You stretch, careful not to wake the boy beside you, and crawl out of the bed. You’re antsy, already knowing that today will be another long day. After grabbing some clothes from your designated drawer and getting dressed, you head into the kitchen and start making a quick breakfast. Just as you’re finishing up, Jonathan comes out of his room, dressed and ready for the day.

Neither of you say anything about the night prior, instead silently working around each other in the kitchen with years of practiced ease. He hands you the salt shaker right when you need it, you grab the pieces of toast that he popped into the toaster, the two of you never once get in each other’s way. You get deja vu, remembering all the times you’ve slept over with Dustin, you and Jonathan making the boys breakfast while they slept in. 

The only indication that last night really happened is a forehead kiss from Jonathan, his lips soft against your head. Out of the two of you, you’re definitely the touchy one, so it’s always a nice surprise when he initiates the touch, and his forehead kisses were a welcome rarity. 

When the plates have been made, Joyce gets up from the couch and stumbles over to the table. You quickly help her sit down, and for the first time since Will’s disappearance you’re able to really look at her. She looks like Jonathan, only worse. The bags under her eyes are darker, her hair is more matted, and you believe she’s still wearing the same shirt you saw her in the night that Will went missing. 

“All right, mom. Breakfast is ready.” Jonathan tries to place her plate on the table, but Joyce stops him, worried about the poster of Will. 

Jonathan gives you a look and you run over to the table, grabbing the poster so that he can set the plate down. 

Joyce gives you a tired smile, “Thank you, Y/N, but I can’t eat.”

“I just need you to eat, mom.” 

“Jonathan’s right, Mrs. Byers. You need to eat, we gotta keep your strength up.” You feel like you’re talking to a child, but in a way, you suppose you are. 

The woman lights a cigarette instead, and faintly you wonder how many she’s had within the last 48 hours; you’ll need to wash your clothes when you get home. She begins to ask Jonathan to go to Xerox to make as many copies of Will’s poster as possible. You sit down in front of her, silently eating, knowing there’s no place for you in this conversation. 

It’s not that the Byers are ashamed that they have little money, but you know it’s rude to listen in. They make do with what they have, and Jonathan has never felt embarrassed with you knowing it. 

“I don’t want you to go alone,” Joyce says, causing you to speak up. 

“I’ll go with him and help hang them up, it’s no problem.” 

Jonathan turns to you. “You have that chem test, remember? I’m not letting you miss that.” 

“Shit…” you bury your face into your hands. You completely forgot about that after finding the little girl last night and dealing with Jonathan. You’ve heard about how impossible the chem exams were, and science has never been your best subject. That was Dustin’s thing, your thing was more humanities. 

“You’re the smartest person I know, you’ll ace the exam,” Jonathan reassures you before turning to his mom. “And I’ll handle the posters, it’s okay.” 

Joyce has been lost in thought during your conversation with her son, only beginning to speak again when she’s asked how many copies will be efficient. Once she starts speaking again, it’s almost like she’s physically unable to stop. She begins to ramble, finally exposing the crumbling woman that you’ve only heard about, now understanding Jonathan’s fears for her. 

“Mom-”

“If we… ten cents-”

“Mom!” Jonathan raises his voice a bit, now grabbing at his mother’s hand. “You can’t get like this, okay?”

The look on Joyce’s face kills you. She looks so lost, ashamed of her behavior, and you cast your head down; this is a private matter. Joyce profusely apologizes to him and all Jonathan can do is gently reassure her that it’s okay. All of this is okay. 

Their tender moment is interrupted by knocking on the front door, revealing Hopper on the other side. His presence makes you uneasy, so you stay in the kitchen and begin to clean up with Jonathan while Joyce attacks him with questions. 

“A little bit of trust here, alright? We’ve been searching all night.” You hear the cop say. Your hand clenches the sponge, rubbing a bit harder at the plate you’re cleaning. If they’ve been searching all night, why are they here now?

“Went all the way to Cartersville.” Ever since Will disappeared, you’ve been building a wall of hope within you that he’ll be found safe and sound. However, with every passing day, with every new situation that occurs, you can feel a piece of the wall collapse. You can feel it now; the search party went all the way to Cartersville.

“And?” Joyce asks. 

“Nothing.” The cry that Joyce lets out causes you to drop the plate you’ve been cleaning, shattering on the floor. You curse, immediately bending down to pick up the pieces. Luckily it didn’t shatter into a million bits, but you still feel horrible for breaking one of their dishes. 

Jonathan bends down as well to help, and the commotion catches Hopper’s attention. He sees you scrambling to clean up the mess and sighs with annoyance. “Does she live here or something?” 

You and Jonathan look at each other, a slight smile on your faces, and only respond to Hopper with a synchronized shrug. You basically do live at the Byers’ at this point, you have been for years now. It was the same for Jonathan: if you weren’t at his house, he was at yours. 

Joyce wipes some of her tears away. “Y/N is family, she’s here to help.” 

Hopper ignores this, instead bringing up the phone call from the night before. Joyce leads him over to the phone, and you join them once you’ve collected the remaining pieces of broken glass. When you see the phone, you can’t help but gasp. Jonathan’s words from last night are accurate, the phone is charred. 

“Storm barbecued this pretty good.” Hopper says.

Joyce waves her arms out, disbelieving. “The storm? You’re saying that that’s not… weird?”

“No, it’s weird.” Hopper begins, but you cut him off. 

“It’s really weird.”

He glares at you. You mumble a quick sorry and back away a bit while Jonathan asks if the call can be traced. Hopper focuses back on the situation at hand, informing him that it isn’t possible and then questions if Joyce even heard Will in the first place. The question makes you cringe, knowing it’ll only make Joyce more agitated and hurt.

“Flo said you just heard some breathing.” 

It’s the way he phrases the question, the way he emphasizes the word “just”, that bothers you. This woman has just lost her kid, what kind of mother wouldn’t know her own child’s breathing?

“Even if it was ‘just’ some breathing, I’d know it was my brother. Will is her son, she’d know better than anyone.” You find yourself saying. The words weren’t meant to leave your mouth, but the appreciative look Joyce casts your way outweighs the fear from Hopper’s glare. 

“It was him. It was Will, and he was scared. Then something-”

“It was probably just a prank call,” Hopper tries to reason with her, causing you to roll your eyes at him. You respect the guy, you do, but could he at least attempt to listen to Joyce?

You excuse yourself before you say anything else, heading back into the kitchen to collect the two posters you and Jonathan made. While the others talk, you grab his things and pack his bag for him. You know he’ll probably skip school today to get the copies done in time, maybe keep an eye on his mom, so you make a mental note to inform him later that you’ll help with putting the fliers up the second you’re done with the exam. He needs someone there for him. 

When you’ve grabbed the last of Jonathan’s things, Lonnie’s name is mentioned. You freeze, standing right outside the hall from them, only a wall between you. If Lonnie is somehow involved in this, you’ll kill him yourself. He was always cruel to Will, even when you were around to witness it. You hate him more than anything in this damn world. 

“It’s been long enough, I’m having him checked out.” Hopper declares, storming out of the house. 

You count to three in your head, and the second you get to three, Jonathan is following after Hopper. You knew he would, hating his father the most out of everyone who has had the displeasure of meeting him. You follow behind him, heading outside to talk to the Chief. 

“Hey, Hopper. Let me go.” 

Hopper takes a drag from his cigarette, facing the two of you. “I’m sorry?”

“To Lonnie’s,” Jonathan says, looking at you for backup.

You do your best to try. “If Will’s there, that means he probably ran away. Cops will scare the poor boy, he’ll think he’s in trouble.”

“And he’ll hide. He’s good at hiding.” Jonathan finishes for you. 

Hopper stares at you both, inhaling more smoke from his cigarette and blowing it in your direction with a curious look in his eyes. “You two are sickening to be near, you know that?”

You and Jonathan share an annoyed look. A kid is missing, and you still have to clarify that you aren’t together? “It’s not like that,” Jonathan says.

“Sure, you know cops are good at detecting lies,” Hopper approaches him now, grabbing his shoulders. For a brief second you’re afraid he’ll hurt him. “And we’re also good at finding, okay? Stay here with your mom. She needs you.” 

Hopper punches at Jonathan’s shoulder before facing you. “And you,” you brace for whatever he’s about to say, knowing you probably aren’t his favorite person at the moment. He points at Jonathan, “He needs you.”

His words hang in the air several minutes after he’s gone. You glance at Jonathan, but he doesn’t meet your eye and instead he goes back inside. You sigh, following after him because it’s what you do. Hopper’s right, he needs you. 

Jonathan’s in the living room, speaking softly to his mom when you enter. You don’t disturb them but rather snatch Jonathan’s keys from the counter and wait for him by the door. Like Joyce said, Xerox opens in about thirty minutes and you have a chem exam to take. If you leave now, you’ll be able to make the copies with him and be back in time before school.

The ride to Xerox is tense, you know Jonathan is upset that he’s been sidelined by Hopper. You also know that he’s torn between wanting to help his mom and staying out of his house as much as possible. If it weren’t for your god damn chem test you’d offer to skip and hide out at your place, but you can’t. Jonathan wouldn’t let you risk your future for him (even though you would, in a heartbeat, a million times over). 

The man at Xerox gives Jonathan a look of pity, clearly recognizing Will’s picture on the poster. It’s your favorite photo of him, smiling with all his teeth and happy as can be. From what you’ve heard, the whole town has been conducting search parties for him. Jonathan ignores the look and asks for the 200 copies to be made. 

It’s just you and him in the store as you wait for the prints to be done. The guy said it’d be about a ten minute wait so you wander around the store. Jonathan clearly is in a no talking mood, so you occupy yourself with whatever you find. You wish you’d brought your backpack to Jonathan’s last night so you could at least study a bit while waiting, but you didn’t. It’d be a miracle if you pass this exam. 

Jonathan wanders around as well, so you give a quick look around and find the employee. He’s standing over the printer when you approach. “I’d like to pay for the copies, please.”

“You can pay after they’re done-”

“No, I can’t let him see,” you point over to Jonathan, who is now looking at some stationary. “Please, just let me pay now so he can yell at me later.” 

The guy gives you a shrug, clearly not getting paid enough to care. “Okay, it’ll be $20. Just leave the money on the counter over there, the prints should be done soon.” 

You nod and do as you’re told, leaving the $20 bill on the counter while Jonathan isn’t looking. He can kill you later, right now you want to make up for not being able to help with hanging them up. There’s literally hundreds to get through, he can’t do that all alone. 

When the posters are done and Jonathan collects them, you wish the worker a good day and then wrap your arms around him and use all your strength to drag your friend into the car. He doesn't fight back at first, too confused by your actions, and you’re almost out the door before he sees the man pocket the money and wave at you. The dots connect in his head and Jonathan begins to fight against you. 

“Y/N, let me pay-”

“Nope. Not happening!”

“We both know I’m stronger-”

“Debatable, honestly, seeing as how we’re almost to your car.”

“Let go!” He tugs harshly as his arm, which you’ve got a secure hold on, causing you to stumble a bit. 

You plant your feet more firmly against the ground and use all your weight to pull the boy forward. You’re a few feet away from the car, just one more solid pull should do the trick. “Stop fighting this, Byers. I’ve already paid-”

“Which you shouldn’t have!”

“Keep fighting and drop all the posters, I dare you.”

Jonathan looks down at the posters in his spare hand, realizing that you’re right. If he doesn’t give in soon, they’ll topple over. He lets out an agitated groan, throwing his head back, and then marches over to the car to unlock it and fling himself into the driver’s seat. “Just get in.” 

You do a small victory dance and hop in the car.

“I hate you.” 

“You love me.” 

He hesitates only for a moment. “God, I hate that I do.” 

You smile, buckling your seatbelt. Jonathan pulls out of the parking lot and begins the drive to school. He’s less tense this time, at least. The small little wrestling match between the two of you seemingly did some good, then. 

When you pull up to school, you once again apologize to Jonathan for being unable to help. He waves you off, understanding. 

“It’s okay, I promise. I can’t have you failing out of high school because of me.”

You roll your eyes. “One test won’t make me become a high school dropout, Jonathan.”

He ruffles your hair, which you slap him for. “You can join me after, okay? Good luck, bug.” 

“Fine, but I’m taking some posters with me so I can hang up on my way to my locker.” 

“Deal.”

You run to your locker, flinging it open and letting out a sigh of relief when you spot your chem cards. Honestly, you really should’ve prepared better for your little sleepover at the Byers. You glance at the watch on your wrist, noting that you have roughly fifteen minutes to memorize all the elements in the periodic table as well as some chemistry definitions. 

Just peachy. 

You tie your hair up so you can focus better and grab the note cards. If you review the cards as you walk to class, you can save at least three minutes of studying time. You tuck the few remaining posters of Will under your arm and begin to head to your class, getting absorbed in all the elements and words. As you’re skimming a card about protein being K, you run into Nancy and Barb, who also seem to have the same idea as you.

“Oh, hey Y/N.” Nancy greets you, Barb waving to you as well. 

They’re being nice, so you try to make conversation. “Studying for Kaminsky’s test?”

They nod at you and Nancy sighs, “Yeah, his exams are the worst.”

You laugh a bit, for once on the same page as her. “I know. I spent last night at Jonathan’s, I completely forgot about the test until this morning. I’m screwed.”

Barb raises her eyebrows at you while Nancy suddenly looks sad. “Oh, I’m sorry about Will. I know you and him are close.” 

“Yeah, it must be hard taking care of Jonathan right now.” Barb voices. 

You give them both an awkward smile. “Thanks, I guess? It’s just, there’s still hope, so…” 

The three of you stand there as your voice trails off. It’s painfully awkward. While you’ve known Nancy since you were 12, and at some point you even called her a close friend of yours, the second you entered high school she became distant. You never blamed her for it, people simply grow up and grow apart. Now you only ever interact with her if it concerns the boys. 

Trying to ease the awkwardness, you hold up a poster and offer it to them, but Steve snatches it from your grasp.

“Henderson, didn’t know you were also a little know-it-all. Why don’t you share your cheat sheet with the rest of us?” He says, casting a teasing look your way. It isn’t until he inspects the piece of paper that he finally notices that it’s a missing poster for a child, not a review sheet. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.”

You snatch the poster back from him. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

His friends laugh, but Steve has a bit of heart to look guilty, so you count that as something. His shame doesn’t last long though and the goofy and sweet boy who made sure you were okay after almost hitting you with his car is gone. 

Steve plays off the situation as if it were nothing. “Let me make it up to you, Henderson. I know you’re probably stressed out of your mind dealing with boyfriend troubles because of Bill-”

“His name is Will,” you grit out, remembering now why you dislike Steve so much. Everything was about impressing his friends, and while you can sympathize with him, it doesn’t give him an excuse to be an asshole. 

“Right, Will. Anyways, I was just about to inform Nance over here that my dad has left town on a conference and my mom’s gone with him, ‘cause, ya know, she doesn’t trust him.” 

“Good call,” Tommy says, and you glare at him. 

Steve carries on. “So, are you guys in?”

“In for what?” Nancy asks. 

“No parents, a big house?” Carol says, as if Nancy is a giant idiot.

You feel bad for her being treated so poorly by her boyfriend’s friends, so you lean in and whisper, “A party, Nancy.” Then you look at Steve. “And no, I’ll pass.” 

Steve pouts. “Can’t leave loverboy alone for a couple hours?”

You scoff, shoving the poster against his chest, using more force than probably necessary, but the satisfying grunt he lets out pleases you. “If I didn’t know you I’d say you sound jealous. Unfortunately, I do know you, and that’s exactly why I’m not interested.”

“Meow,” says Carol as she and Tommy laugh. 

You ignore her and push past the group to get to class. You’ve wasted enough time, you have to study. Steve lets you, hurt by your words, but tries to play it off, instead focusing his attention on Jonathan up ahead hanging up some posters. You both see him at the same time and as you start to approach him, you hear Steve and his group mock him. 

“God, that’s depressing.” Steve says, and you’ve never wanted to hit a man more than you do right now. 

You glance at Nancy, trying to convey your disappointment in her. She’s a nice girl, she shouldn’t be with an idiot like Harrington. Who the hell makes fun of a guy with a missing brother? Nancy doesn’t meet your eye, which pleases you. She should feel guilty. 

As you near Jonathan, Nancy calls after you to wait up. You listen, mostly because you’re surprised she even followed, and together you walk up to him. “Hey, bee. I thought you’d be long gone by now.” 

Jonathan looks up at your voice, surprised when he sees Nancy next to you. He gives you a look that you conclude is a what is she doing here? look and you can only shrug as if to say I have no clue how I ended up in this situation. 

Nancy doesn’t see this exchange. “Hey,”

“Hey,” Jonathan responds, still confused. 

Nancy looks at you uncertainly, but you refuse to leave. Screw your exam, if she even considers voicing her boyfriend’s opinions to Jonathan then you’ll personally see that she fails alongside you. “I just… I wanted to say, you know… I’m sorry, about everything.” 

Oh, she’s being nice. You’re still unimpressed, but Jonathan motions to you to stop staring her down, so you reluctantly listen. 

“Everyone’s thinking about you.”

You all turn towards Steve and his group, who are clearly listening in, and you snort at her words. “Right, obviously.” 

“Y/N.” Jonathan warns. 

“Sorry.” 

“It sucks.” Nancy continues, and you have to give her some credit. You’re being a blatant bitch, but she’s still trying. You feel a bit bad now, which honestly makes you dislike her a bit more. Damn morals. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, he’s a smart kid.” 

The bell rings, ending Nancy’s little monologue. “I have to go, chemistry test. Y/N, want to walk together?” 

She really makes it impossible to be a bitch to her. “Sure, just give me a second.”

You lean close to Jonathan and lower your voice. “Good luck with your dad, bee.” 

“How did you know I’d go-”

“Because of course you would. Now go, give him hell for me, will ya?”

Jonathan nods, relieved you aren’t pushing the topic. You know that Lonnie is a sore topic for him, for the entire Byers family, really. You only knew Lonnie for a year or so before Joyce left him, but you’ll never forget his spiteful words and the bruises that Jonathan tried to hide from you. He needs to do this alone, father and son. 

You see Nancy watching, and just to spite her you kiss Jonathan’s cheek, relishing in the fact that she looks away, and you wish him luck once again before following her to class. 

The test isn’t as bad as you’d feared, and the rest of the day goes by with relative ease. You don’t see much of Steve and his group and you’re thankful for that. Nancy also keeps her distance, no longer attempting to be all buddy buddy with you. A part of you feels bad about that, because honestly the thought of someone thinking you hate them makes you feel physically ill, but as long as Nancy is with someone like Steve, there’s not much you can do about that. 

After school you stop by all of Jonathan’s classes and collect the work he’s missed over the last few days; he has enough to worry about, so you figured you could help do some assignments for him. It’s nothing unusual, truth to be told. There was a time you were out for two weeks straight due to the flu one year and Jonathan did every one of your assignments, so it’s about time you returned the favor. 

Once you have what you need, you hang up the remaining flyers in your bag and begin your journey to work. You’ve used up all of your sick days helping the Byers, and while Mrs. Waters has insisted on letting you have more time off, you figured the distraction would be good for you. Jonathan will want some space after confronting his dad, and as much as you hated Lonnie, something told you he had nothing to do with Will. 

Just when your shift is almost done, your coworker, this young kid named Alex who you’re honestly surprised can legally work, informs you that your mom is on the phone and wants to speak with you. You stack the remaining books in your hands and thank him, walking over to pick up the call.

“Hey, mom. Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, sweetie! I was just calling to tell ya that Dusty is at the Wheeler’s tonight for dinner, so my plan for ribs won’t work without him. I was wondering if darling Johnny could feed you tonight? I know the two of you have that little sneaky food game.” 

Your posture, once slumped over and uninterested, now straightens out. Why the hell is Dustin having dinner at the Wheeler’s? They never do that. “Uh, sure mom that won’t be an issue.”

Your mom lets out a sigh of relief. “Bless that Jonathan! I’ve always liked him…”

Your mom may be the biggest Jonathan supporter you’ve ever met. “Yeah, he’s your favorite. I know,” you shift a bit to catch Alex’s attention, mouthing to him that you need to leave work early. “Hey, did Dustin by chance say how long he’ll be at the Wheeler’s? I can swing by and pick him up after my shift.” 

“Oh, I think he’s staying the night there. He mentioned something about Mike not finishing his part of their little science project?”

They’re calling the little girl a science project now? Boys are so typical. “Oh, I see. Well, I gotta get back to work, mom. I’ll be home late tonight.”

Your mom wishes you goodbye and warns you not to be out too late. You hum, already trying to figure out the quickest route to the Wheeler’s house. You can’t say you’re surprised that Mike didn’t follow the plan, but you also can’t say you were prepared for this either. 

Alex comes back with your boss and you quickly make up a lie about not feeling well. Mrs. Waters gives you a pitying look and tells you to go. You’re incredibly grateful for her, she’s like a grandmother to you and has always been so kind. 

You quickly bike to Mike’s house, going over a grand speech in your head for the boys. Logistically speaking, you’re not sure if they can even harbor the little girl in his basement. Would it be kidnapping? Could kids even kidnap other kids? You aren’t sure and you definitely aren’t willing to find out. 

You arrive at the house just as Nancy and Barb are pulling out of the driveway, presumably to Steve’s grand house party. They wave at you awkwardly and you don’t have it in you to wave back. You park your bike next to their doorstep and knock on the door. 

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Mrs. Wheeler asks after opening the door. 

“Oh, I was just wondering if I could hang out with the boys tonight? Jonathan’s busy and I promised Dustin I’d help with their campaign.”

Mrs. Wheeler cocks her head at you. “But I thought there was a special assembly at the school for Will? Nancy and Barb just left for it.” 

You feel your blood boil a bit. There was no assembly for Will at your school, and it was really damn low of Nancy to use his disappearance as a cover story for her stupid party. She’s known Will since he was practically a baby. You have no idea how someone could be so unaffected by a missing child, let alone one who has been at your house every damn weekend for years now. 

“Oh, that!” You force yourself to remain calm; there isn’t time to snitch on Nancy, Mrs. Wheeler would only have more questions for you. “Yeah, I’m, uh, skipping it. Jonathan doesn’t want to go, so after he’s back from his errands I’m heading over to his place to, you know, comfort him?” 

The woman stares at you for a second, trying to determine if there are any lies to your words. You’ve never been the best liar, but being the oldest Henderson child has unfortunately prepared you for being quick on your feet when needed. 

“Well, come on then. They boys just went downstairs, and if you can please remind them to bring the plate of food back up here I’d really appreciate it.”

You thank Mrs. Wheeler and let yourself in. Her words have all but solidified your suspicions: Mike kept the girl. 

When you descend the basement steps, it’s almost comical how the kids scramble to hide the girl like little cockroaches. They run around and Dustin screams something about covering her before the poor girl is being manhandled into a sheet as Mike screams at Lucas and Dustin to calm down. 

“Guys! It’s just me! Jesus!” You shout, shoving past Mike to rush over to the girl and free her from the sheets. She looks more frightened than usual, but at least she’s alive. 

“God, why am I always the one you push?”

You shush Mike, smoothing back the girl’s hair and offering her a reassuring smile. “Remember me, sweetheart?”

The girl nods and softly says, “Y/N.”

“Very good. I’m going to scream at my brother real quick, so why don’t you cover your ears for me so you don’t get too frightened?” 

“Wait, what-”

The minute her ears are covered, you turn to Dustin and begin screaming. “Are you brain dead and not understand the words ‘tell me if anything weird happens’ or do you simply lack the appropriate empathy needed for a concerned sister?”

Dustin ducks his head in shame. “Y/N, look-”

“No! I’m all for helping you guys with your adventures and whatever, but Will went missing and then she appears and Mike,” you turn to him and he hides behind a frightened Lucas. “You said you’d stick to your plan. Now tell me, did you?”

Mike shakes his head, his eyes wide. Dustin looks no better as he cowers behind the others. Lucas simply shrugs, knowing that this would happen. You never, ever, yell at the boys; the few times you have in the past, all hell had broken loose. 

“Y/N-”

“Zip it, Henderson. I’m so pissed off at you right now and if you want to make it to thirteen I suggest you keep quiet.” 

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now, why don’t you guys catch me up on what you’ve so sweetly kept hidden from me.” It’s worded as a question, but the boys know better than to deny you. 

You sit on the ground so that you’re next to the girl and then motion for the three boys in front of you to start speaking. They look at Mike, giving him a nudge, and he hesitantly steps forward to begin speaking. “Her name is El.”

The girl, El, looks up at you and smiles. You return the smile and knock your shoulder against hers in a playful manner. “Nice to meet you, can I ask what El is short for?”

“Eleven,” she says, and you want to question the name further but the look on Mike’s face stops you. Now is not the time, you guess. 

“El, she’s… different.” Mike continues, looking around nervously. He’s acting as if someone could break in any second and snipe you guys, and a part of you doesn’t doubt it can happen. “She has these powers, like, mind control powers.”

You snort, unable to stop yourself. El looks at you, looking unoffended, seemingly expecting this reaction. However, Mike groans at you. “Y/N, this is serious. She-she knows about Will.”

At this, your smile fades and you feel an overwhelming sense of hope take over you. You find your arms wrapping around El before you can control yourself and you give her a tight hug. She stiffens in your arms and you immediately pull away. “I’m sorry, I just… sorry.”

She laughs a bit, softly saying that it’s okay. 

“Do you really know Will? Where he is?” You ask, almost too scared to say the words out loud. If she’s telling the truth… you shake your head in an attempt to dispel any false hope. You don’t know this girl, she could be lying. 

Before El can say anything else, Mike speaks for her. “She does, but there’s bad men out there who want to hurt her. I think they’re after Will, too.” 

You freeze. “Bad men?”

“Yes, this is why we didn’t want to tell you!”

“I wanted to tell her,” Lucas says, which causes Mike to glare at him.

You wave your arms at the two boys, breaking up their fight. “Mike, what do you mean by bad men? Honey,” you look at El, “did someone hurt you? Are you in danger? Should I call the police?”

“No!” All three boys shout at once. 

You look at them, at the genuine fear in their eyes, and sigh, “Okay, if you can give me a good reason not to call the cops, I won’t.”

“Did you not hear the part about El having powers?” Dustin asks. 

“Gee, Dustin. You’re right! It’s like her having powers is totally believable and reassuring to the situation at hand!”

“I can show you,” El speaks up. 

You all face her now. “You can?” 

She nods at you, getting up and grabbing your backpack that you threw on the ground when you walked in. She rustles through it while you and the boys look at one another. After a few seconds, El grabs one of your comic books and places it on the table. She looks at you and tilts her head, indicating for you to sit down next to her; you do as you’re told.

El straightens out your comic and then closes her eyes, going completely still. The air around you shifts and you can practically feel the static electricity encasing you; the hair on your arms stand up. The pages of the comic begin to flick up, fluttering as if someone is thumbing through them in rapid succession. You watch as the Spidey panels flash before your eyes, the pages flying faster and faster until it becomes almost frightening to be near. Then, once it gets to its last page, the comic flies up into the air and hovers for a few seconds, right in front of your face. 

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, your eyes wide. 

Just as quickly as it began, the comic drops back onto the table. You look up at El and see that her nose is now bleeding, which rips you back to reality. The chair scrapes against the ground as you get up to help her, dabbing at the blood with a tissue that had been laying on the table. 

“Do you believe us now?” Mike asks, a smug look on his face. 

You gently wipe away the remaining blood from El’s face, looking her in the eye and directing your words to her. “I’m listening, sweetheart. What can you do to help us find Will?” 

El smiles, pleased to have earned your trust, and you get the feeling that this little girl is the most powerful thing in all of Hawkins, maybe even the world. At her request, Mike places his DnD board on the table and arranges the pieces for El to use. She sits down and closes her eyes once more.

Lucas gives you a doubtful look. “What’s the weirdo doing?”

You flick his head, not enjoying the name calling. Honestly, you thought you raised these boys better than that. 

El seems to accomplish whatever she was doing and picks up the wizard piece, murmuring, “Will.” 

You feel your heart stop. Will always insisted on being the wizard whenever they played the game. He was Will the Wise, forever and always. El couldn’t have simply guessed that, and you know it’s her-

“Superpowers,” Dustin finishes your thought for you. The two of you exchange a glance and you notice the slight glee in his eyes. Under different circumstances, you’d also find this all pretty cool. 

Mike sits next to El and begins to ask some questions about where she last saw Will. She gives him a look that you can’t quite decipher before swiping her arm across the table and spilling the pieces onto the floor. She then flips the board over, having it now face upside down, and places Will’s piece back down. 

You knit your brows together, trying to follow along. El’s movements are methodical and carefully planned, being unable to find the right words due to her poor speech, and you try to piece together the information you’ve been given. 

“I don’t understand,” Mike says, being extra gentle with El. You’ve never seen him so soft spoken before and you’re grateful at least one of the boys doesn’t view her as some monster. Which reminds you that you need to have a conversation with Dustin about respecting women, but for now you’ll hold off.

“Hiding.” says El. 

He’s good at hiding, Jonathan’s words echo in your head. 

“Will is hiding?” 

El nods, now looking more nervous. You can tell that Mike is getting closer to information that she doesn’t want him near, which finally causes you to ask the question that’s been heavily on your mind. “From the bad men?”

Now El gives a slight shake of the head, and Mike presses on. “Then from who?”

Without saying anything, El places a second piece onto the board right in front of Will’s. It’s a piece you’re unfamiliar with, with two snake-like heads that loom over the small wizard piece. Whatever it is, you know it isn’t good judging the way Mike, Dustin, and Lucas look at each other in fear.

You turn to Dustin and whisper, “What’s that piece?”

Your brother puts his hands behind his head and sighs deeply, a new resigned look on his face. He looks as if he’s just aged thirty years, which you find a bit dramatic. “It’s the Demogorgon.”

“The Demo-what?” The name sounds familiar, but you can’t remember anything about it.

Mike looks at you and for once his voice holds no annoyance when he says, “There’s a lot we still have to catch you up on.”

– 

Your head is spinning as you bike to Jonathan’s with all the new information you’ve just received. Demogorgons, magical vortexes, kids with damn superpowers. It’s all a lot for you to take in, and while you fully believe that El is something entirely different from a normal little girl, how can you be sure that it’s connected to Will? While his disappearance still confuses you, it’s illogical to jump to supernatural conclusions. 

Dustin had begged you to let him spend the night at Mikes in order to keep talking to El, and you only agreed because you figured you’d be at Jonathan’s again tonight anyways. He’s been MIA all day and you’re worried as usual, but you made him and Mike swear to you that they’d stay put in the house. At least this way they’re in one place, so if they screw around they’ll be easier to find. 

When you arrive at the Byers home you notice that Jonathan’s car isn’t in the driveway, which only confuses you further. Where the hell is he? You gave him all day to deal with Lonnie and cool off, trusting that he wouldn’t do anything stupid for twelve hours, and yet… 

You fear he’s done something stupid. 

You don’t have time to think too much about Jonathan’s absence because a frantic Joyce runs out the door screaming. She runs straight past you and into her car, and the house begins to light up like a Christmas tree. You can hear The Clash’s Should I Stay or Should I Go, a song that Will once had on repeat for three weeks straight, and you can feel the same static electricity in the air that you felt when El used her powers in front of you. 

Joyce suddenly gets out of the car and spots you, pointing towards her house. “You see that too?”

You swallow. “Yeah,”

She nods, as if your confirmation is all she needs to determine her sanity, and then marches inside. You stand in the yard, motionless. You’re terrified, and after learning about El tonight, you don’t have it in you to discover any other supernatural beings in Hawkins at the moment. Sighing, you follow after the woman because Jonathan isn’t home and someone needs to talk her down from whatever panic attack the flashing lights have inevitably caused. 

“Mrs. Byers-” 

“Y/N, you can’t tell me there isn’t something,” Joyce waves her hands in front of her face, almost grasping at the air, “weird about all of this. That was Will’s song, the lights were flashing in Will’s room, something came out of Will’s wall-”

“Something came out of his wall?”

“Yes! I’m not… I promise I’m not crazy, okay? You saw it, please tell me you saw it.”

You bite your lip, now thinking about El. You swore to Mike you wouldn’t tell anyone about her, and honestly you’re not sure that you should tell Joyce about her right now. You’re still unsure if El is being honest with you, and you can’t just give the woman false hope for her son. It’d kill you if you were wrong about El. But seeing the lights, hearing the music, the thing in the wall… There’s something that she’s not telling you. 

“Mrs. Byers… I’m not quite sure what I saw, but we just had a bad storm and it could be faulty wiring.” 

Joyce slumps her shoulders, frustrated that you aren’t conspiring with her. You just… you can’t. Not yet. Not before you figure out what the hell El is doing in Hawkins. You refuse to worsen Joyce’s already chronic anxiety and paranoia; Jonathan would never forgive you if you fed into her delusions, but it kills you to lie to her. 

“Look, I do think that something is weird about this entire situation, “ Joyce’s face lights up, but you’re quick to add, “however, there’s no proof. You, I mean-Mrs. Byers, you’ve seen things in the past. You’re stressed, and anxious, and all the other synonyms.” 

The woman lets a few tears drop from her eyes, now embarrassed. “Maybe you’re right. I-I’m sorry, honey. I just-”

You grab her hand. “I know,”

Her smile is brittle, a ghost of the once beautiful smile she’d give you, and your heart breaks for her. 

After your conversation, Joyce excuses herself to her room. She looks even more exhausted than before, so you leave her alone and hole yourself up in Jonathan’s room. 

You glance at your watch and note the late hour; you’re starting to worry now. Jonathan didn’t mention anything besides Lonnie and the posters, so you don’t know what else he could be doing so late. He wouldn’t go searching for Will without you. 

You wake up to Jonathan returning an hour or so later, apparently having fallen asleep while waiting for him. 

“Y/N?” His voice is gruff and surprised. 

You groan and rub your eyes. “Turn the light off, bee.”

He doesn’t. “What are you doing here?”

The tone of his voice wakes you up a bit, making you sit up and look at him more clearly. His shoulders are tense, his eyes are hiding something, and his overall demeanor is hard to read. “I had something to tell you, but is everything okay?”

“You couldn't have waited until tomorrow? Y/N, this is my house, just… just get out.”

“I’m sorry?” You’re confused by his behavior, now starting to become a bit defensive and hurt by his dismissal. 

“You can’t just let yourself in whenever you please.” Jonathan puts his camera on his desk, still refusing to meet your eyes.

“Jonathan, we literally have always let ourselves into each other’s houses whenever we please.” 

He rolls his eyes at you and rips off his jacket, throwing it at you. “Get out!”

You catch the jacket before it hits you in the face. “What the hell, Jonathan!” 

“Listen, I get that you think you’re a part of the family, but you’re not. You’ve been here for days now, it’s getting old.” 

His words cut through you and leave vicious wounds against your skin. He doesn’t mean that, he can’t mean that. You and him were family. He’s never, ever insinuated anything less. He wouldn’t dare. Your Jonathan would never act like this to you, and the only time he’s ever been this cruel to you was when he accidentally dropped Lonnie’s last beer in the fridge and was too embarrassed and ashamed to ask for help; he’d shown up with bruises later that night.

Then it hits you. He did something, something that makes him feel guilty; he keeps glancing at his camera. You soften your voice, “Bee, what did you do?”

He whips around, now yelling. “Nothing! Just get the hell out of my house! It’s getting pathetic!” 

You swallow back the angry tears that build in your throat. Fine. Whatever. Let him be a raging bitch after everything you’ve done for him these last few days. 

“Fine, I will.” Grabbing your backpack you snatch the assignments you were supposed to give Jonathan and slam them against his chest. “Here’s all your fucking assignments, by the way.” 

He seems to come back to himself, blinking away the anger and shame. “Bug…”

“You don’t get to call me that.” And with that, you don’t spare Jonathan another glance. 

– 

When you get home, the house is eerily quiet. Dustin is at Mike’s and your mom leaves you a note saying that she’s spending the night at your aunt’s. Great. Looks like it’s just you and Mews tonight then. 

After everything that’s happened tonight, you never found time to eat dinner, and your stomach is loudly growling. You drop your stuff in your room and then reheat some leftovers, feeling like a pathetic child. You know that Jonathan didn’t mean what he said, but the words had come too easily to him to have just been a way to dodge his guilt. There had been some truth to them. Maybe you were pathetic for always fretting over him.

Dinner is quiet tonight. 

You wait for the phone to ring, for Jonathan to call you and apologize, but the call never comes. 

You’ve never felt so alone before.

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if youd like to buy me a coffee ☕︎

⌑ thank you for reading ! feel free to like, comment, reblog, or send in an ask so we can chat <3

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

miss oranje's faves: self-recs edition

i'm not used to praising myself bc i am my biggest hater, not my biggest fan, but i was tagged by the lovely @gothcsz to participate in @jolapeno 's 'tootathon' challenge, and i originally was going to pass up the opportunity butttt i suppose i'll *try* to say nice things about myself but i love the people in this fandom so i always enjoy participating in the fun, particularly something that promotes positivity when fandoms can be so toxic sometimes. honestly, i might need to steal this idea and make a positivity challenge for the resident evil fandom (which is what i primarily write for) because we are in need of good vibes…

*because my blog is multi-fandom, my masterlist is getting big overall, so i'm going to link my javi fics and my joel fics (along with my liztober '24 because there are a couple other pedro character fics on there)

i haven't been a part of the pedro pascal fandom for long, so my work here is limited, but i will share a few things:

it's never over (javi p x reader) - a two part fic (part one is from javi's perspective, part two is from reader's)

I really liked the concept for this fic and it was something that I wrote bits and pieces of for a while. I tried to change it to a single pov because i think i’m not someone who does well with pov switches like this, but it never captured the full scope of the story i wanted to tell when i tried to make it only javi’s or only reader’s. Ultimately, while i’d like to add onto this fic because i would like to expand upon reader’s pov, i like the story that i told in the end (i love angst). Maybe there will be a part 3…

2. and for dessert? (javi p x reader) - a short, mildly smutty story about javi and a housekeeper at a hotel

i hated this fic for a while because i got caught up in the numbers but i reread it last night and i was like, ‘okay, the concept is incredibly silly, but i guess in some way, that’s the point’. Anyway, when i looked back and stopped focusing on the numbers, i realized that i actually really like this fic, and probably wouldn’t change anything about it.

3. anniversary antics (joel x reader) - joel and his wife getting it on ... heavy breeding kink here

i wrote this in an hour or so. it just came to me. straight from the smutty brain (which is rare). this is one of the few fics of mine that i re-read and actually think 'oh this is hot'!

4. everything's bigger in texas (joel x reader) - for my liztober celebration! reader loses her virginity to joel and it's a sweet and short smut.

this is my second most popular tumblr post of all time (so it doesn’t need promo here), which is very funny because i almost didn't post this at all. i thought the size kink might be too basic and overdone but i also really wanted to write an 'older' reader as i have a tendency to write younger readers (which is partially because i am 24 and have never been older than 24 vs i have been 21 etc.) and i wanted to get away from the typical innocent virgin thing.

and also, we're gonna get personal here... i'm pretty sure i have vaginismus and so it's really really difficult to have sex. i've been shamed or questioned rather than reassured during situations where i struggle or am entirely unable to. reader in this fic was not specified to have vaginismus because i was trying to keep it light and smutty, flipping it around into a size kink, but it was a bit healing to write tbh. 

I’m pretty sure everyone has already been tagged but i’ll tag some of my mutuals just in case:

@clawdee @evolnoomym @baronessvonglitter @the-mandawhor1an

[jazeswhbhaven]

👻👻Happy Spooky Month Ya'll👻👻

Have yourself a Asmo~

So as with any update of mine for the month, let's get it poppin' with some quick housekeeping rules since I've gained some new faces since the last update!

👻Don't come up in my space with the bullshit, meaning racism/colorism, homophobia, etc.

👻If you have a non-sharing yumeship do yourself a favor and don't follow me as I equally talk about and simp for pretty much the majority of the characters for this game

👻I talk and write cxc content, I always tag it so ya'll can mute it so just fair warning

👻Venting is welcome in my inbox, but no venting about other users in my inbox and using me as a mediator. That's ya'lls beef not mine.

👻Absolutely no minors.

👻Requests are s l o w. Like I still have stuff from weeks/months ago I haven't answered so please be patient with me ;w;

What's going on this month for my blog?

Uh tbh I was supposed to have a WHB OCversary event for myself and well that hasn't been going to well because of outside factors. If ya'll see it before Halloween that would be my ideal goal.

Also I was going to do a Halloween thingie like how I did for my other blog last year but I don't think I will end up getting to it...I might just update with the kings/nobles I didn't include!

Other than that keep an eye out for the following reacts:

👻Asmodeus Selfie 👻Gabriel X-mas Miracle And this is totally dependent on when my friends share the stories with me or if I get them myself. I was supposed to have a react for Levi and Mammon's bath story but I'll probably dish that out for next month instead.

Oh but another thing!

So after some thought, if I get myself together and figure out a sound schedule...and after doing more research I will possibly be opening a Patreon for ficlets/blurbs for other fandoms including this one based on a poll vote. Most of it will be never posted on tumblr so it will be exclusive to my patrons only! The tiers won't be too expensive tho. But this is still a up in the air thought and I'll let ya'll know if it's ever going forward. I'd like to think I'd get support but alas, gotta be realistic sometimes lol

Hey so, Asmodeus....eh? *wink*

yes. Asmodeus has the fandom up in a tizzy and I think that's a given. For LU(Love Unholyc) fans this has been a long time coming seeing him like this, and for folks like me who kinda know OF him or don't know him at all then yeah fucking side swept my ass.

Let me gather my strength to write some stuff about him...I want to I really do...and we shall see if I can get my brain going. There's so much potential with him too. Other than him being fine as fuck.

Anywayssssssss thank you all for following me and my crazy, engaging, and being the lovely folks ya'll are. Let's continue to simp and vibe for the bois~

your lovely admin~ ♡( •ॢ◡-ॢ)✧˖° ♡ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ

[amywritesthings]

in honor of my birthday on 3/02, i'm going to be hosting an endometriosis awareness month event all through march! most of my followers are aware of my chronic disease (formerly stage iv endo warrior, and as of feb 26 i officially have no new endo - 6 years and counting!) and i think it's so important to educate and normalize conversations about this debilitating disease that affects so many people.

this is a very personal event for me as i've been writing comfort 'fics' for myself to help me through flare-ups for years, but given i'm currently in post-op recovery, i wanted to expand on them and share with all of you! i hope you enjoy xoxo

some housekeeping rules !!

anyone can participate. (haaay followers how are you?)

you can send as many prompts, questions + game prompts as you'd like!

under the cut, i have listed muses i'm cool with writing for this event. they def won't all make the cut, but if there is someone that isn't on that list, you can certainly send them in!

i may not answer a drabble or ficlet prompt due to muse, time, etc but please do not take this personally.

this is meant to be comfort event, esp as i'm in bed recovering. i want to make my birthday fun and cozy this year since i cannot go and do much in the interim! so pls be kind when sending in prompts.

if such content bothers/triggers you, block the #amyendomonth tag. i will be adding trigger warnings appropriately to each story as well.

event submissions end 03/31.

activities !!

FICLET/DRABBLES | feel free to send me prompts surrounding menstruation care, pain management, doting blorbos, or a random au idea connected to a story i have already written.

BIRTHDAY GIRL AMA! | do you have questions about blorbos i've written for and how they'd comfort reader/mc during their period? have inquiries for me as an author? want to know my thoughts on a certain character, show/movie, or game? just want to ask what my favorite color is? send it in!

GAMES | fmk, would you rathers, have you evers! rec me stuff! (animes, movies, tv shows, books)! make me choose (between anything!)! 3-song playlists for canons (ships or solo) or self ships! tell me about your favorite blorbo headcanons or your day! sky is the limit this month.

finished prompts !!

press four!levi taking care of you during your period

characters under the cut:

arcane — vi, caitlyn kiramman (or caitvi)

attack on titan — levi ackerman, armin arlert, annie leonhart, erwin smith, jean kirstein

baldur's gate 3 — astarion

fields of mistria — march

jujutsu kaisen — gojo satoru, sukuna

love and deepspace — caleb, xavier, sylus

my hero academia — bakugou katsuki, midoriya izuku, kirishima eijirou, toshinori yagi, hawks

note: if there is a muse from any of these fandoms you don't see on this list, then i do not mind you sending their name in!

[saltcxrcle]

IM BACK BITCHES !

⟡ so as you can tell from this post, im officially back from my hiatus!

i honestly could have come back sooner but i just wanted to ride out the month of october so i didn't feel overwhelmed if i came back when i thought i felt better and not at 100%.

but yes a month long break was necessary for me and my mental health since i had been on tumblr consistently for a good 3 years at this point without one, so it was a long time coming.

but now im feeling a lot better and ive been slowly just easing myself into using the site again and exposing myself to my activity tab (r.e my hiatus announcement) and now i don't feel any kind of anxiety when seeing it so its progress! (i have yet check it thought but as soon as this is posted, i will be sorting through it)

with not being on the app/site, ive had some spare time open up for me and i've been utilizing it and i got back into journaling which was something i had been trying to do for the longest time but i treated this place as my digital one but clearly it didn't work out the way I wanted.

anyways moving on, I also was able to write quite a bit while on my break and i feel good about them because i didn't have the pressure of posting them right away.

but since i did write some fics! im so excited to share them with you guys so i made schedule of what/when im posting them and that'll be posted later today!

speaking of fics i made a poll before i went on hiatus about making a tag list for my fics and the majority of votes wanted me to make a tag list so i made a separate post for the tag list and how you can be added! [taglist has been posted]

with the housekeeping out of the way. yayy im back!! life has been great this past october and as sad as i was that i couldn't give you guys live updates, ill post them some of them here :P

i've made some more friends in my classes and I went to my first concert ever! it was a conan gray concert and ill make a separate post about my fit and the experience since it was so fun! other than that it was a relaxing month and my brother was in town and visited for a week and a half so having to share my room with my sister wasn't the best time but nonetheless we survived nonetheless LOL

anyways enough rambling! i have to say that i can't wait to binge everyone's kinktober and just the fics i've missed on here in general! im so happy to be back and im just so excited to share the things i have planned with you guys! (i'm so back guys ahhh!)

ive missed you all so much and i hope that everyone was doing well when i was gone <3

+++

tagging some of my moots to let them know im back: @sammyluvr / @ohsc / @s4wdvator / @sylvia-plaths-fig-pie / @arjwrites /

@heliads / @percyluvr

[veebeeboo109]

Cleaning up the Timeline

{You get your job back and celebrate. And then you meet someone at the park.}

Read on ao3. Part One.

Tags: Reader/L&DS Men, Romance

Chapter 17: Gravity

Your knee won’t stop bouncing with anxiety. The sights and smells of the Hunter’s Association are familiar but foreign. It’s been too long since you’ve been in this building, and you feel like everyone can tell. 

Xavier leans over to place a hand on your trembling knee and gives you a warm smile. “It’ll be alright. You can do this.”

You sit up and take a short breath, “I didn’t talk to any of the counselors she recommended. I technically haven’t done anything to prove I can come back to work. What should I say? Oh, I’m feeling much better! My four boyfriends helped me stop being all dark and twisty inside?”

Xavier chuckles and sits back in his seat. The two of you are waiting for an appointment with Captain Jenna, and you’re close to bursting. Thankfully, Xavier is more than calm. If anything, he’s bursting with excitement. He’s tagged along to personally request you as his permanent partner. 

Jenna’s assistant calls for you, and your heart jumps into your throat. Xavier takes your hand to stand and follows you all the way to the door— only letting go when you enter without him. You have to speak with Jenna alone first, and at least Xavier believes in you. 

Jenna is as stoic as always. A tall, thin figure of authority that rivals Zayne with her icy expressions. “It’s good to see you.” She says almost warmly and nods to the seat across from her desk. 

You take a steadying breath and sit, “Thank you for seeing me.”

”I heard you were hurt,” Jenna wastes no time, cutting to the quick. “How are you?”

You laugh sheepishly, “There was a small stalking incident. I suffered a mild rib fracture, but I’m fully recovered now! I’m ready to get back to work.”

Jeanna sits down at her high backed carbon-black chair. The screen on her desk is illuminated with the many open files she has up— open cases of protofield fluctuations, wanderer sightings and attacks, and an increase in flux stabilizer vandalism. 

“I’m willing to talk terms.” Jenna says like she’s opening up a hostage negotiation. “If you can tell me why I suspended you in the first place.”

Your hands clench in your lap, and the scarf around your neck feels suddenly too hot. “I…I wasn’t performing to standard. I was slacking, and missing work without reason.”

Jenna’s eyes narrow, and she leans back in her chair. All of a sudden, you’re eight years old again. Sitting in the principal’s office of your elementary school, wondering what the right thing to say is to get you out of trouble. 

You can tell that isn’t what she wanted to hear, and so you try again, “I wasn’t taking care of myself. I was depressed and not coping with what happened. You suspended me for my own good, because I wasn’t well.”

A beat passes, a quiet tick of the clock as Jenna lets you mull over your words. At the time, it’d felt like one cruelty after another, but you know now– with a clear head and a healing heart– that it was the right thing to to do. 

“I also  heard that you were evicted from your apartment.” Jenna’ voice is even, but her eyes are frigid. “When I inquired what had happened with the landlord, he told me you left no forwarding address. I apologize for that. If you had reached out, I would have made things clear with the landlord and fixed it.”

Sitting up a little bit straighter, you mind whirls at that. Spinning with the conjured alternate present that would have occurred had you thought for half a second. Why hadn’t you thought to just ask Jenna to talk to the landlord? The past three months would be so different. 

You look out the window at the skyline of Linkon city, and imagine a world where you hadn’t been on that park bench. Where you hadn’t jumped at the opportunity to be Zayne’s housekeeper. 

Spring is just around the corner, if you had been smarter, would you be greeting the cherry blossoms alone? It’s hard to fathom that. A reality where you aren’t intertwined in the four of them. 

You shake your head, “To be honest, it didn’t even occur to me. Everything happened so quickly and I was so…well, you know. I was out of it.”

“I regret placing you on leave without ensuring you had a support system. I fear I may have only made it worse.” Jenna’s face curdles with guilt. 

You’re quick to correct her, “Oh no! I reconnected with a friend, and I’m very happy where I am now. I have a new place, and they’ve helped me back on my feet. That’s why I’m here today. I want to come back, ma’am.”

Jenna’s features soften, and her warm eyes fall on you with a little bit of hope. “I see. I’m glad to hear it. Well, as I promised, your position here with the UNICORNS is waiting for you. But, protocol dictates that you be put on probation for ninety days before you’re fully reinstated.”

You nod emphatically, “Of course, that’s fine. I understand, and I’m ready to prove myself.”

Jenna taps away at her computer for a moment. “Tara, of course, will be ecstatic. The others missed you as well– I was certain there would be a mutiny.”

You can’t help but laugh, “I apologize for any grief I may have caused, captain.”

“I prefer fruit bouquets over flowers.” Jenna remarks, and then stands from her chair. A dry joke that she merely smirks at. “Now, I’ve sent a message down to HR to reinstate your ID. Head over to armament and they’ll set you up with a new watch– we’ve upgraded since you were last here.”

You rise to your feet, and follow her back towards the door, “When can I start?”

Jenna smiles in that matronly way she does when one of her subordinates amuse her, “Next Monday. There’s a cleanup effort on the south side of the city, and they need some Hunters to supervise in case of Wanderer interference. I’ll send you the details when you come back Monday morning.”

“Right! Thank you so much Captain Jenna. I…I really can’t thank you enough for letting me come back.” 

Jenna opens the door and you step out, feeling fifty pounds lighter. The Captain of the Unicorns shakes her head, “This was always the plan. Go ahead and check in with the others if you’d like. I’ve got a meeting in twenty minutes I need to get to.”

Xavier is standing six feet away. Though his expression is even, you can see the eagerness sparkling in those cerulean eyes. The twinkling of wishing stars. 

“I won’t keep you any longer then. Thank you again, Captain. I’ll be here bright and early on Monday.” You try not to bounce too much with glee, and Jenna laughs at your barely tempered excitement. 

Captain Jenna retreats back to her office, and you approach Xavier. He takes your hand like he might lead you in a dance, but instead just draws you close. “How’d it go?”

“Perfectly, just like you said. I start again on Monday.” You practically squeal. 

Xavier’s eyes crinkle with his smile, and the air around you feels a little bit lighter. “That gives us enough time to get some more training in. We should run some simulations as partners to make sure we’re on top of our game.”

You elbow him with a bubbly giggle, “Are you ever not on the top of your game? C’mon I have to get a new watch from Armament. And then I want to stop by HR to make sure they got Jenna’s message.”

Your coworkers are happy to see you, and Tara nearly tackles you when she spots you in the office. Some confess their concern when you disappeared– how much they noticed you struggling, and how much they fought Jenna on suspending you. 

It’s startling, realizing how much your fellow Hunters cared. Even when you were lost in a fog– when their faces had turned into nothing but blurs and their words fell on deaf ears– they had cared. The anxiety you’d been feeling since deciding to come back eases even more. There wouldn’t be some great awkwardness to overcome, thank god. 

Xavier lingers near you while you’re fitted for a new watch, and the armament team goes over the changes. An updated GPS system. Improved vitals tracking, and increased sensitivity to protocurve fluctuations. 

HR is….hr. It’s a corporate nightmare of legal jargon and people-pleasing. You minimize your time there as much as possible, only making sure someone has it in the system to reinstate you as an active Hunter. 

Xavier treats you to oversized ridiculous boba on your way home. The kind that’s way too expensive but comes in a cute pink cup with a round bottom and three different color gradients. You sip happily at your treat in his car, simultaneously giddy from the familiar weight of the hunter’s watch on your wrist and the realization that the place where your boys are is home now. Forever. 

You hook arms with Xavier to take the elevator up from the garage to the main house and he’s looking at you with this funny kind of playfulness. Like he’s in on a joke that hasn’t been told yet. 

The elevator dings and the doors open, and you hear the hushed voices arguing.

“Don’t touch that. You’ll set it off prematurely.” Zayne’s voice hisses under his breath. 

“I just want to make sure it works! Geez…” Rafayel’s replies with signature sass. 

You turn towards the living room and see a large banner strung up across the windows, a multicolored ‘Congratulations!’ written on a confetti background. 

Rafayel and Zayne stand in the middle of the room. Zayne smiles when he sees you, and Rafayel nearly jumps in utter delight. A party popper in each hand, the minute you step into the room and out of the hall they pull the strings and pop! A sharp burst of confetti explodes towards you, not just from Rafayel and Zayne but from either side of you as well. 

You jump and squeak, turning to see the two bird masked hooligans of Sylus’ who snicker all too pleased. They pull out more party poppers and pop them, covering you with more strings of confetti. 

“Congrats boss girl!” Luke cheers from your right, and then Kieran pops another, “Good job on the— whatever it was! Hooray!”

“Boys,” Sylus calls from behind Luke, and they flinch a little. Caught being a little more than just helpful. The young masked man turns back to you and offers you a sheepish shrug. 

“We’re behaving!” Kieran adds as he throws his arm over his brother’s shoulder, “We can have cake yeah?”

“What’s going on?” You laugh as you pick some confetti out of your hair, “Why all the… confettiing?”

“It's for you, dumbie!” Rafayel scoots around the couch to get to you, “A congrats party!”

“What?” You mumble, looking at the banner, the streamers, and even a sheet cake sitting happily on the kitchen island, “For what?”

“For you, of course.” Sylus adds, walking his fingers up your back and plucking another errant piece of pink confetti from your hair. “For getting your job back. Or for choosing to stay with us. Regardless, the day felt worth celebrating.”

You feel like you're made of cotton candy. Tiny strings of heated sugar spun into cottony webs. So fine and airy that you melt upon the tips of tongues. Strawberry flavored and filled with the memory of sunshine and summer. 

What an utter, lovesick fool you are. And how lucky you are to be cradled in the arms of those who love you for it. 

“You didn’t know that I’d even get the job back,” You argue as Zayne cuts you a piece of cake with a picture of a Hero from Super Hunters punching a Wanderer on it. He places it onto a little pink paper plate and then shrugs as he hands it to you. 

“There was little doubt, love.” He says with certainty. 

From the corner of your eye, you see Luke and Kiera waiting patiently at the dining table, buzzing in place as they wait for their cake. Sylus had had to tell them to sit down with as much force as a father to toddlers, and so they sat– albeit impatiently. 

You wait till Zayne cuts another piece and then take both plates over to the poor kids. From what Sylus has told you they’re barely eighteen, if that. They’re kids. Kids that work for an international criminal syndicate and arguably more dangerous than even seasoned criminals, but kids. 

They thank you in unison for the cake and then you retreat back to the kitchen for your own piece. 

It seems that cake and confetti are not all you have to look forward to in this little celebration, because Sylus drops a large aluminum crate at your feet with an obnoxiously large red bow on top. 

“What’s this?” You ask.

“Your present, kitten.” Sylus says with a grin that’s too smug. “Open it.”

Setting aside your half-eaten cake, you hop off your barstool to open the large metal monstrosity. You pluck the bow off of it and use the adhesive still on there to plant it onto Sylus’ chest. He chuckles at you, and leaves it there. 

You unlatch the crate and you have an inkling of what awaits you inside. Black egg-crate foam meets your eyes first, and then– as you expected– a pair of shiny silver handguns. They’re chrome, with carbon hand grips and red detailing down the barrel. A pair of shiny chrome blades sit next to them, a thigh holster for each one. And lastly, a small pocket handgun that’s baby pink with a kitten on the grip– tiny enough to fit in a clutch handbag.

“There’s more below,” Sylus whispers at you, and you pick up the first layer to reveal more. 

A layer of combat gear. An elaborate set of body armor as pretty as it is functional. It’s similar to some of the armor worn by hunters, but this looks custom. 

“Wow, this is amazing, Sylus!” You breathe in awe. Looking at him, you can practically see him preening like a peacock at your excitement, “Thank you!”

“Me next!” Rafayel inserts himself in front of Sylus and offers you a small, blue box. 

You rise from your crouch and take the softly texture box. Opening it, you’re met with the most delicate, beautiful piece of jewelry you’ve ever seen. An elegant chain with little teardrop gemstones the faintest shade of blue. At the center is an oblong, opalescent centerpiece. It takes you a second to realize what it is. A scale. A large, paper thin scale like something from a massive fish. You can only fathom what kind of ethereal sea creature this must have come from. 

“It’s beautiful.” You say, turning to Rafayel with stars in your eyes.

“You have to wear it everyday, okay?” Rafayel insists, grabbing the box from your hand and taking out the necklace. He moves around you fluidly and places it around your neck without request or hesitation. 

“This is too nice for everyday!” You argue, “I couldn’t wear this while working!”

“You have to.” Rafayel chirps, “This is scale from Lemuria. It’ll keep you safe.”

You sigh and concede. You’re not entirely sure what Lemuria is, but it sounds fancy, and if it makes the second biggest worry-wort in the house chill, then so be it. 

Zayne’s gift is a little snow globe. Well, a glass globe with a sphere of ice inside it. Within the ice is a small pool of water and a shell you recognize from one of the many you found at the beach. It’s a beautiful memento, and he blushes when you gush over it. 

Xavier gives you a crystal replica of the solar system to hang up in your room. Each planet is a different precious stone, reflecting the light with sunbursts and rainbows. 

Once you’ve had cake and drank some bubbly concoction that Rafayel mixed, you hang up your gift from Xavier above your bed– with a little help of course. You place Rafayel’s necklace safely back in its box, Zayne’s snowglobe goes on your bedside table, and the arsenal from Sylus gets slid into your closet. 

Sylus comes to you to kiss you goodnight, mentioning some work over in the N109 zone he has to get done– that he won’t be back until late tomorrow.

Zayne, dressed in pajamas, catches him just before he leaves your doorway. And catches Sylus by the back of the neck to press a kiss to his temple. His signature parting farewell. Sylus chuckles into it, and you feel that familiar fizzy happiness at seeing the two of them so content. 

Sylus parts, and Zayne follows you into bed. 

Rafayel and Xavier drew the short straw of tidying up the little party, but you’re sure you’ll see them in bed soon enough. 

It’s been a long, rollercoaster of a day. And everything is almost back to the way it’s supposed to be. You have Zayne. Xavier. Rafayel. Sylus. You have your job as a Hunter. 

Love. Purpose. A future. It lingers on you like an expensive perfume. You stink of happiness. 

If only things could stay this way….

A week later, the weather is warming up. You still can’t leave the house without a jacket but gloves and scarves can be left at home. The smell of earth fills the air as the soil gradually thaws, and the energy of the city shifts from its sleepy, winter hibernation to its maiden-pink excitement of spring. 

You’re back at work. Fighting wanderers but this time Xavier is at your side. It’s distracting at first, watching him fight. He’s as graceful as a ballerina on the field. His precision with the blade is masterful, and you’re caught starry eyed a few times on that first day. 

He pushes you harder now in training. You attend simulations at the Association to get better fighting side by side without the danger, and you’re not sure you’ll ever get used to the feeling of resonating with Xavier’s Light Evol. It explodes like a supernova beneath your skin– utter destructive power with the potential to create universes and decay time itself. 

The household chores are divided. A little schedule and a checklist that the five of you divvy up. Zayne doesn’t mind doing dishes, so that’s his preferred chore. Xavier likes to cook, but can’t so he does mostly dusting and tidying. You’re pretty sure Sylus has someone sneaky coming in at night to do his chores, and so long as he’s not making the twins do it– you’re fine with that. 

You should have known it was too good. Nothing gold can stay, and all that poetic nonsense. Something about the other shoe dropping or the calm before the storm. The glassy top of your pool of happiness ripples. 

A phone call. 

Your old phone has been off since your accident on the roof. Better to let it die, you thought. The stalker could just be an unfinished chapter– not knowing was better than chasing. 

It was one of the very rare early mornings that you were alone in your bed. The echoes of your lovers were there, indents in the bed and the sheets from where’d they’d been.

 Zayne had risen for work at nearly three– an early shift that the rest of you dreaded. Sylus had business that night and was likely not even home yet.  Xavier had been put on night patrols this week. His light evol and experience specifically requested by some stuffy higher-up he couldn’t say no too. And Rafayel was likely passed out in his studio, trying to finish his latest painting for an art exhibition coming up. 

Alone in your big bed, the last to rise and it's a nagging buzzing in your drawer that pulls you from sleep. 

Half-asleep, you yank the drawer open and pull out the phone. You’re struck with irritation more than confusion, but when your eyes finally adjust to the bright screen, your stomach drops. 

You’re suddenly sitting upright. Covers pushed away from you as your hand begins to shake. An unknown number. A plain white-blue screen, and the rhythmic humming of the ring over and over again. 

Answer it. You’re feeble, reckless mind cries. Answer it quick!

When you press the phone to your ear and answer the call, you’re met with silence. Barely even static meets your ears. Your hands tremble, but you force yourself to hold together. “Hello?”

Music meets your ears. Discordant and garbled like it's being played through a speaker, and then put through the phone. The sound of wind cuts through the melody before you can hear it again, and dread slinks down your spine, coaxing every hair on your body to stand on end. 

It’s more than creepy. It’s haunting. Is this some kind of threat? Or a message?

You keep listening, Holding your breath so you can hear the receiver over the sound of your own rattled breathing. 

The melody shifts, and you can hear rustling of something and then something that sounds like— children? Playing? 

It’s barely 60 seconds. A mess of sounds and then click. Nothing. 

You pull the phone away to check, making sure the call was disconnected. With quickened breathing, you go to the home screen of the phone. Checking for anything else– a text. A voicemail. An email? Nothing. 

You throw the phone back into the drawer and close it. Rising out of bed, you’re out of your room in record time. This time you won’t be foolish and end up with a punctured lung. You rush down the hall and into the spacious studio. The light of dawn casting everything in a grey-blue haze. 

“Rafayel!” You call, unable to find him for a moment. But a jolt of movement catches your eye, and you go to him. 

You’re not sure why it’s rattled you like this. Why this time it’s made the scar on your ribs ache or your gut tight, but Rafayel is barely sitting up from his place on the couch before you fall into him. 

Chests pressed together, you hold him close and he wraps his arms around you without question. He hums like a satisfied cat, pleased that you’ve come to him, and he seems keen to go right back to sleep. 

But you squeeze him tighter, and hide your face away in his neck. Only when  your inhale sharply does his mind rouse from sleep enough to realize something is wrong, and he holds you all the tighter. 

“What happened?”

“This has gone on long enough.” Sylus states with murder is his voice when you finish explaining the events of the morning to him. 

It’s midday when you’re able to gather everyone together. The living room feels cold, but you’re sure that’s your own anxiety making you break out in a cold sweat. You’ve had your hunter weapon on one side of your hip all day, and Rafayel at the other. 

“Believe me, I’m way ahead of you.” Scoffing, you continue your pace back and forth next to the windows.  Zayne and Xavier are sitting on the couch, but they're at the edges of their seats now. 

Sylus had dragged his tired feet through the door at five am, less than an hour after the phone call. And you grabbed him the second he was inside, and when you explained that had happened, you watched as his previous exhaustion melted away– replaced by a cold, deadly determination. 

Xavier had gotten home around six, and he’d run into Zayne on his way in– much to the blond’s surprise. But a quick call to Zayne had brought him rushing home, the tremor in your voice more than enough to reassign some surgeries and take the afternoon off. 

“I’m serious, kitten.” Sylus practically growls as he rests his hands on the back of the couch. The matching bracelet the five of you wear shines on his wrist. “It is one thing to have your life at risk from Wanderers. This stalker will not be tolerated.”

You let out a strangled breath and run your hand through your hair the umpteenth time today. “The call was nonsense. Some music and some sounds. No words. Not even heavy breathing.”

“There must be some reasoning behind it.” Zayne rises to his feet as he speaks, “Do we think the motivation is simply to terrorize? Or is harm the ultimate goal?”

“Terror has been achieved. Harm has been achieved– which was my fault, but still.” You bark out, and then laugh uncomfortably, “The crazy thing is I think I recognize the music.”

“You do?” Xavier asks.

Rafayel quietly comes up to your side, and with a hand at your waist, he halts your pacing. Being anchored in place you take a deep breath, surprised by Rafayel’s silent support. 

“Do you remember that park near where we lived as kids, Zayne?” You say a bit more evenly. 

“There were a few…”

“There was one. One that took longer to walk to.” Your voice goes a little quieter as you pull the memories from deep within your mind. “There was this carousel. Antique. It cost a coin to ride it and we would– we would go there during the summer a lot.”

“Ah, yes,” Zayne concurs, “Adams Park. You’re right. That one was farther out than the others, but I remember the carousel. Last I recall, it’s out of commission now.”

“The music…” You sigh, “I know it's crazy but– but it reminded me of that. There was wind, and the sound of kids playing. I think….I think it was telling me to go to this park.”

“Absolutely not.” Rafayel hisses, “Even if that were the case, why play into their plan? No. No.”

“I can send Luke or Kieran to scope it out.” Sylus says as he’s already tapping away at his phone. 

“No!” You shout, “No, don’t involve them. If this is dangerous, then I’m more than capable of handling it. I’m telling you guys because the last time I did something stupid I got a broken rib.”

“You’re not thinking of going?” Xavier’s dulcet voice is serrated. 

“I am.” You say, though you’ve only barely convinced yourself of the fact. “Either it’s a nonsense noise meant to scare me, or it's a way to find this guy once and for all. End this.”

“Kitten…” The pet name is purred, but it’s dripping with so much disappointment that it sounds like a threat. Sylus looms like a shadow, reckoning with the apocalypse. “I would highly suggest you don’t do that.”

You adjust the gun at your hip and do not cower under Sylus’ ire. “Then come with me. I’m not planning on doing this alone, not again. Come with me. If it’s a setup, then I have backup. And if it’s nothing, I’ll buy ice cream.”

The park is smaller than you remember it, and the trees are just starting to bud. The scent of fresh rain fills the windy air, brushing against you as you exit the car with the four of your lover’s right behind you. 

Sylus comes up to you once again, adjusting the strap of the body armor across your chest. As if touching it settles some anxious worm in his heart. He has to make sure its real– that it's secure. You’re armed like you’re going into battle, and so are they. The necklace at your throat feels cold, the scale shifting so lightly against your clavicle as if to remind you of it’s presence. 

Your group must look quite the sight, walking into the park and along the winding path that leads across it. The carousel sits as the centerpiece of it. Its once colorful brocade faded with age and wear, and it sits completely still and quiet. 

It’s been a long time since you’ve seen it last, and you’d all but forgotten those days of summer scouring couch cushions for coins to ride it. Over and over and over again, choosing a different horse each time to make sure the ride was the same. 

There’s a temporary fence surrounding the poor ride, and some tape warding off troublesome teenagers that might think it’s fun to climb on it. 

“There’s no protocurve fluctuations that I can detect,” Xavier remarks while examining his new Hunter’s Watch. 

“I doubt we’re dealing with Wanderers.” Sylus rumbles, hands at his hips and he slowly scans the surroundings. Casually like he isn’t slightly dewy with anxiety. “Unless you’ve got a creep detector on that thing, it’s not of any use.”

You huff in amusement at his comment and go over to Zayne, who is standing stiffly looking at the carousel. “Do you remember it?”

“Faintly,” Zayne replies. “I didn’t come here often.”

“I remember one time we did.” You say, looking towards a pair of horses side by side, one set higher than the other and frozen in time. “It was when we were a little old. Ten maybe? You didn’t want to ride it, and so I rode it alone. I think that– I think that was the last time I ever did.”

Zayne turns to look at you and there’s guilt in his eyes, “I’m sorry.”

You laugh, “Why? You were a teenage boy at that time. You couldn’t be seen riding some childish carousel with some girl.”

“I should have,” Zayne says softly, “Even if I looked silly. I should have ridden with you. One more time.”

You open your mouth to reply– to ease that forlorn melancholy in his voice because it hurts you just as much to hear it as it does for him to feel it. However, Rafayel’s voice cuts like a blade, “There’s someone here.”

The five of you turn in unison, the path towards the other side of the park from the way you came is occupied by a figure. A person clad in a light grey hoodie, and walking with their hands in the pocket. Their hair rustles wildly with a sharp gust of wind, and it shifts with shades of ash mauve, taupe and russet. 

His pale skin is ghostly, and the dark circles under his eyes don’t disappear no matter how much you try to imagine them away. 

Gripping Zayne’s hand so tightly, you’re sure that it hurts, but your muscles have locked. Death itself has come to stand before you, clad in the face of one you once loved. Wrenching from you a horrid, desperate gasp that won’t leave you. Air is stuck in your lungs, and breath won’t come. 

Fifteen feet away. You measure the distance with your eyes, and dammit, why does your vision keep going blurry? What’s happening? The man is fifteen feet away, and you can cross that distance in less than ten seconds. Faster even. You’re fast. He always said so. 

A step is taken, but you’re not sure if it’s you. Not until you step again. The sound of your footsteps so loud in your tunneled mind that it might as well be thunder. 

Your hand slips from Zayne’s because you’re moving. Drawn from those who wish to hold you to that which you have lost. Back to that void in the cosmos where there lies only one singular star. 

“Caleb,” Your voice doesn’t sound like your own, but it is. It’s you weeping the name like a keen wail. Like if you say it aloud it will keep the spectre of his spirit here in this mortal world, and that he won’t slip away the moment you reach for him. 

Through the grey of his pallor and the tired look on his face, Caleb smiles. And when you reach out to him, he’s solid beneath your fingers. The cotton of his sweatshirt meets your skin and it's real. It’s tactile. This horrid hallucination. 

The two of you collide harshly. Crashing into one another like colliding atoms in a supercollider, nothing but immeasurable quantum energy. You fit back in his arms like you’ve never left and underneath the scent of sterile soap and ash it’s him. 

Caleb’s arms are tight around you, hiding you into his chest like you’re the one that might slip away, and you sob brokenly. 

“Caleb…” You wail. Wail like begging for rest, “Caleb…”

You feel his lips against the crown of your head, and the heat of his breath as he exhales heavily through his nose. “Pipsqueak. Oh god…it’s me. It’s me. I’m here.”

<- Previous Next ->