#but it's always so painfully obvious she's not in her element

[goodobservationshirley]

Renegade Nell - s01e08 "Not Some Cheap Trick"

[themakeupbrush]

In no particular order, my top looks from the 2023 Met Gala "Karl Lagerfeld: A Line in Beauty"

My thoughts are below, but I'll be honest, I didn't really do any background research this year because there wasn't much to be done. These are really just my opinions on whether or not I liked the look.

Ironically, I felt this was a very mediocre year, which led to me having a lot more favorites than usual because they were kind of all on the same level. In previous years I would have separated this into multiple posts, but I don't really see the point.

Doja Cat: I wanted someone to dress up as Choupette the cat and she delivered, and managed to do so in a way that was still fitting for the event

Keke Palmer: She looked amazing, and really captured the Chanel look with the bombshell hair and the extremely bedazzled tweed. I honestly don't want to think about how much that dress weighed

Anne Hathaway: Besides that fact that I love everything Anne Hathaway has ever done, this dress was the perfect combination of honoring Lagerfeld's style while also incorporating it into the style of the brand she was representing (Versace). It had tweed and pearls, but also sex appeal and safety pins

Cardi B: First, I just want to appreciate her ongoing commitment to high fashion and the fact that she had three (3) completely separate looks. This particular Miss Sohee look was my favorite because she's living out my glinda barbie mermaid fairy princess dreams

Harvey Guillen: This was one of the first looks I saw of the night, and still one of my favorites. It has all the Lagerfeld style essentials, but still manages to look unique. Plus, creative menswear always gets extra points because the bar is painfully low, though this year was a surprisingly pleasant exception.

Jennifer Lopez: It's not the most creative look, but it's right up my alley and honestly, do we expect anything groundbreaking from JLo? She's always going to show up in something pretty that's decently on theme enough for me to just focus on whether or not I like it. And this immediately makes me think of classic Chanel.

Penelope Cruz: She was a co-host, it's vintage Chanel couture from the 80's, and she's one of the people I most heavily associate with Lagerfeld and Chanel. A win all around.

Russell Westbrook: I really want to give Russell Westbrook credit for always showing up to the Met Gala and really going for it. I love all the details: the pearl necklace, the tweed blazer with floral clasps, the bows on the shoes

Chloe Fineman: Another first look that turned out to be a favorite. This again had all the necessary design elements without feeling like a cheap knockoff. Also major points for the bedazzled cat bag.

Anok Yai: I don't know and I don't care how this relates to theme, she looked like a goddess

Bad Bunny: Another man not only doing something interesting but incorporating the theme? Genuinely shocking. Obviously I loved the OTT floral cape, but I really loved the ode to c. 2005 Chanel with the backless suit and backwards necklace.

Gisele: She wore the same dress from an iconic 2007 editorial, proving not only that she still has it, but that she's always had it. A true supermodel.

Salma Hayek: She looked hot, I don't know what else you want me to say about it. Also it had color, which nothing else did. My eyes were starving for color.

Glenn Close: For starters, she needed an entire team to carry her train so props for that. She brought the drama, the glitz, and the "age is just a number so shut the hell up" glamor.

Lil Nas X: This was, for lack of a better phrase, a cheeks out, bedazzled, balls to the wall look. The Choupette inspiration is more obvious when he was inside with the fur (ish?) coat on, but I honestly didn't care. I needed a moment and he delivered. Though I do wonder (1) how long it took to bedazzle him and (2) will he every fully be de-glittered.

Brian Tyree Henry: I don't know if it's the pose or the cape, but it's giving me dramatic shakespeare vibes and I appreciate it.

Naomi Campbell: The only issue I have with this look is that they called 2010 Chanel Couture "vintage" and I can't accept that. Beyond that, I mean, it's Naomi Campbell in Chanel Couture. I was also dying for any semblance of color at this point and somehow this dress was among the most colorful

Jenna Ortega: The perfect combination of chanel tweed cropped blazer/mini skirt and the Wednesday Addams aesthetic. Which was interesting because I thought she was trying to move away from that but I don't care it was a successful look

Ava Max: Chanel was known for the haute couture bride, and this not only really captures that, it was one of the most and quite honestly only majorly dramatic looks of the night

Halle Bailey: She looked like a mermaid and I love that for her

Ashley Graham: I would have loved this look regardless, but after seeing the dress it was modeled after, I also think it was one of the best tributes of the night

Tems: Has she ever looked bad on a red carpet? Her headpieces are just getting bigger and more elaborate and I see nothing wrong with that.

Diddy: I love the drama + the floral cape, though I am left wondering how he didn't faint under all of that. Also, you can roast me all you want for captioning his post with Sean Combs but that's what was given to the AP so it's what I went with.

Shai Gilgeous Alexander: A final man who followed the theme and wore something interesting, arguably more interesting than some of the women. I actually think I like this look better without the coat over it.

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

The salt of life

Disclaimer: This makes no sense, it's just a list of Sydcarmy musings and analogies but I wanted to share it anyway.

In culinary metaphors

Syd is affecting Carmy like TABLE salt affects mixes in bakery. She enhances Carmy’s flavor, but does not change it. That’s not always a good thing. It all depends on finding the right balance and timing and ensuring the ingredients are correctly mixed because otherwise, the whole thing is ruined.

Salt is dangerous. As a matter of fact, it can kill you.

Salt is basically sodium. Sodium is poison when incorrectly used, but it also makes the ❤️ beat when its levels are balanced out with the potassium in our blood.

In medical terms

Syd is the heart.

Carmy is the circulatory system that would dry up and die unless the heart irrigates it.

The Bear, their place, is the blood. The family.

What makes the heart beat is electricity.

They generate this power. This spark. And it can get out of control, like all sparks, of course.

That’s the chemistry they create when they are together → Beating.

None make sense without the other, BECAUSE THEY FORM A SYSTEM, is you separate the veins and arteries from the heart and the blood, they are simply lifeless. Isolated they don't make much sense.

THEY ARE A SYSTEM. THE MAIN SYSTEM.

How that system works

She lit the spark in him and gave him a heart when he was used to being a robot who only worked and smoked the competition.

Sydney could definitely work without Carmy, but at this point, it wouldn't make sense for her. She would feel lifeless, even if she wins 100 stars elsewhere. Her place is The Bear, the restaurant and the chef. Because that's what she chose with her heart.

Carmy has worked and thrived without her and wouldn't do it again unless it's out of spite, just to show her.

However, I don't think it'll come to that like it once did with Michael, or his parents, he has learned that lesson the hard way by now.

Carmy works as a SYSTEM, as part of something bigger than him, if he becomes isolated, S3 Carmy takes the wheel. He doesn't work like that, he crashes and burns.

But during most of S3 the "spark" Syd ignited in him, the one that got the blood flowing again, gave him a heart, a purpose, where there was only a hurt man who felt so much pain that couldn't even express it and thus, sublimated it in the form of a work addiction and functional depression, and therefore couldn't overcome it either, got out of control.

The SYSTEM was broken, because the elements that formed it attempted to work separately. There was no synergy, just energy that was out of balance. Not completely, but mostly.

Back to the salt

I have already gone over the analogy between Carmy and onions, acid, etc. Most in the fandom have, but here's a reminder of what I think about that:

So, the result of mixing culinary purpose salt (table salt) with acid ingredients is a WEAKER ACID.

We can all agree on Carmy being "intense", right?

Well, when in contact with her he can calibrate himself better.

I emphasize "contact" because when they are OUT OF TOUCH, the effect is almost instantaneous and painfully obvious in Carmy, which has always been, and in S3 it started to become more apparent in her too, as you can see in these previous entries:

They belong together to balance each other out, when there's this distance between them, that we saw in S3, THEY ARE IMBALANCED.

Salt is the balancer ingredient in any recipe. It enhances what needs to be enhanced and neutralizes what needs to be neutralized if used correctly

But salt on its own is no good, it needs to work as part of a recipe, a dish, A SYSTEM.

She's the salt, his salt, the one that brought flavor back to his life, and that's why his story re-started the day she came into his life. Carmy and all that he represents, the restaurant he inherited, the family in it, the family business that Cicero keeps funding, the extended family now Syd found at The Bear, is the system. He is a system that needs to be balanced and sometimes neutralized. Salt is the main ingredient for him, because he lacks of it, he's acid.

Bonus track: Le Chatelier's principle

I have mentioned this before but it bears repeating→ When her dishes were out of balance it was always because of the "acid" ingredient, which means she's outta balance too. Carmy doesn't balance her, he doesn't have that effect on her. In chemistry, acids tend to dissolve salt BUT they can create NEW SALTS too (Le Chatelier's principle). She's fighting this because she knows that once she fully lets Carmy in, it's gonna be the end of the world as she knows it. She won't be able to fight it much longer after this breaking point ↓

Remember to follow my tag #Gingerpovs 💋

[sentientgolfball]

sooo @rainyhoursinhell got me on a Sir Rain fix but then I thought too long about genderfluid Rain and the lunar cycle so now I give you Ma'am Rain..also go read their stuff!! They are THE Raintom person

18+ MDNI

Word Count: 2570

Pairing: Rain/Phantom

Tags: she/her Rain used, collar and leash, Phantom tries very hard to be good, mean Rain, pet play/pup used as a nickname, slight mention of daddy kink

Summary: It was a super full moon tonight and Rain had to get rid of the pent-up energy somehow

It was a full moon. 

A full super moon. 

Rain had been feeling the pull of the celestial body for the past few days, which wasn’t anything unexpected for a water ghoul. She was used to the push and pull of the moon's power. She knew how to handle herself in the presence of its light. 

Something Rain never could seem to get the handle on though was those few moments in the year where the cycle got interrupted. Eclipses, blue moons, super moons, those always caught her by surprise even if she had the date marked and highlighted in every calendar in the Ministry. She was still caught by surprise when she woke up dick painfully erect like she went into heat overnight. She could already feel that high that comes with the full moon and the sun literally just rose. She figured she needed to take care of herself before she got too high off the surge of magick and adrenaline. She ran straight to the shower and made quick work of herself, shooting onto the tile wall nearly piercing her hand with the effort of keeping quiet. 

When she left the bathroom with a puff of steam and saw her half-opened closet a grin slowly spread on her face. She knew exactly what to wear for the occasion. 

Short satin dress. Spaghetti strap. Black. Matching elbow-length gloves and choker. Opal stud earrings. 

She figured the effort it would take to keep her fins glamoured all day would be worth the looks she knew she’d get. Maybe if she were lucky Cirrus or Mountain would throw her over their shoulder to go rip the dress right off. Or maybe Dew would tease her all day until she decided enough was enough and bent him over the nearest surface. Oh or what about Swiss falling to his knees begging for permission to touch and taste? Rain had to bite back a moan at the thought as she looked herself over in the mirror, making sure each part of the outfit was sitting correctly on her figure. 

When she finally deemed herself the picture of perfection, she made her way to the kitchenette hoping to ruffle some feathers before slipping away to join the other water ghouls until she returned to the den when the moon was at its peak. She must have taken longer to get ready than she originally thought because the entire pack was out, spread between the common area and the kitchen. She tried her damnedest to keep a neutral expression when any conversation halted the moment she stepped into view. She could already smell the arousal on the whole damn pack. 

It was a super moon after all. It was the one lunar event that didn’t affect just water ghouls. Sure it messed with them the most, but still every ghoul of every element would be feeling the pull tonight. She knew this and she used it to her advantage. Every single time. 

She ran a hand over Mountain’s waist when she slipped past him at the stove. She made sure to reach for the glass on the highest shelf so Swiss could get a perfect view of her dress from where he was sitting at the table. She made sure to brush his arm and lean over Cumulus while she set the table. Her tail flicked when she heard a low growl from the common area. 

“Isn’t it a little early to start this Rainy?” 

Her eyes flick up to meet Dew’s glowing ones. 

“What? Am I not allowed to look nice?” 

He huffs “Not when the new kid is five seconds away from creaming his pants.” 

Rain can hear a small squeak followed by Cirrus 

“Sorry Ant but it’s kinda obvious, I can smell you from here.” 

Rain raises an eyebrow at Dew who returns the gesture with the slightest flick of his head. 

Looks like Rain found who she’d be celebrating the supermoon with. 

Rain had to admit, she was a little nervous at the idea of taking Phantom since this was only his second moon experience, but fuck the sweet smell of his arousal wafting over the others made her head spin and it still wasn’t anywhere close to sunset. 

She decided she’d play the long game with him when he couldn’t keep his eyes off her the entirety of breakfast. She’d glance at him and he’d look away with a deep blush and oh did she long to see how far she could push him. It got even worse when she realized his chores seemed to suspiciously line up with every spot the water ghouls decided to gather at to lazily make out or to expel the pent-up magick before the real show started. 

Enough was enough, though when Phantom ran straight into Rain after slinking away when he saw Rain was nowhere to be seen with the other water ghouls. 

“You’ve been watching me all day haven’t you sweet thing?” 

His Lichtenberg figure scars glow slightly as a small wave of quintessence ripples through his body. 

“I uh I don’t know what you’re talking about Rain. I was just you know…working.” 

She tsks “Who taught you to lie? Good boys don’t lie Phantom. I thought you were good?” 

His eyes go wide when Rain turns and begins walking away. 

“Wait! Wait Rainy where are you—?” 

“Back to the den. If you can’t be good I’ll just find someone who can.” 

She turns and meets Phantom’s eyes with a bored look when she feels him grab her wrist. 

“Come on Rain please let me be good for you. I promise I’ll be good. Gimme a chance, I’ll do whatever you say.” 

She raised an eyebrow “Whatever I say? Really?” 

He nods so fast it makes Rain’s neck hurt. 

“Hm,” she hums “Guess we’ll find out if you’re still lying to me.” 

The second they’re back in the ghoul den Rain quickly wraps a hand around his horns and pulls him down the hallway to her room. 

“Good luck Bug you’re gonna need it!” Swiss calls from where he’s pinned between Cirrus and Aurora on the couch. 

“Be nice.” Aurora hisses. 

That’s the last thing Phantom hears before he’s shoved into Rain’s dark room. The lock clicks and he doesn’t even have time for his eyes to adjust before he feels Rain grab and shove him against the door. She pressed her whole body into him, stealing what little breath he had with a kiss. She teases his bottom lip with her tongue, huffing a laugh when he immediately opens for her. 

Rain slips her tongue into his mouth, making an attempt to shove it down his throat before pulling back. 

“Stoplight system, okay pup?” 

He nods with a little squeak. Rain growls and places a little pressure at the base of his neck. 

“What was that? You know how to speak don’t you or are you a dumb little puppy?” 

Phantom whines and nods his head “Yes.” 

“To which?” 

“All of the above.” 

Rain smiles, flashing her fangs before leaning in to suck a deep bruise onto his neck. 

“Good boy. But I still think you need a little training since you decided to lie earlier.” 

Rain pulls away for a moment. She fishes something out from her nightstand that Phantom can’t quite see. She throws open the blinds in her room to let the full moonlight fill the space. Phantom’s cock kicks in his pants at the sight. Rain’s skin practically glows when it hits her. The black satin is a gorgeous contrast to her pale skin and oh the darkness in her eyes was too much for Phantom. She crosses the space to stand in front of him, only this time she keeps a bit of distance. 

“Eyes on me pet.” 

Phantom's mismatched gaze immediately snaps to meet her. She smiles and takes the thing from the nightstand from behind her back, clipping it around his neck before he can even process it. He instinctively reaches up to feel the material. He’s a bit shocked when he feels the leather, whatever was against his neck felt soft and fuzzy. 

“Color?” 

“Green.” 

“Good.” 

Rain yanks on the leash he didn’t even realize was attached and he nearly falls on his ass. She pulls him over to the vanity letting him take a good long look at the two of them. Only Phantom isn’t looking at them. His eyes immediately fell to the collar. It was pink with a matching heart keychain on the leash clip. He squinted to read the words in the low light and nearly fainted when he realized what was written. 

Daddy’s girl. 

He felt another yank his leash. 

“What did I say? Eyes on me.” 

“I’m sorry!” His eyes immediately snap to look at Rain in the reflection. 

“I’m sorry…?” 

“I’m sorry ma’am” he whines. 

Rain steps back to sit on the edge of the bed pulling Phantom with her. He immediately moves to straddle her but Rain hisses, looping the leash around her wrist and yanking. 

“Nuh-uh, you haven’t earned that yet. You still need to be taught a lesson for lying. On your knees pup.” 

Phantom drops without a second thought landing hard. He’s going to have bruises for days after this is over. He looks up at Rain with those big eyes making her cock twitch. She shifts her weight just enough to lift the hem of the dress to expose her lacy underwear. 

“Sit on your hands pup. Since you wanted to use your mouth so badly that’s what you’re going to do.” 

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good boy. Now get to work.” 

Phantom leans forward till he’s slotted perfectly between Rain’s legs. He grabs the waistband of the panties between his teeth, careful not to nick her skin with his fangs. He slides them down just enough to free her cock. She’s already hard with a bead of pre pooling at the tip. He licks his lips and glances up at Rain, holding eye contact as he licks a long fat stripe from root to tip. Rain tightens his grip on the leash, letting his claws bite into his palm to keep still. 

Phantom laps at the tip before parting his lips and swallowing her down. Rain laces her fingers through his hair, gasping when her cock hits the back of his throat. He slowly pulls off, letting the flat of his tongue drag along the underside. He keeps his lips around the tip and holds for just a moment letting the anticipation build. He breathes deep through his nose before sliding down in one quick motion, burying his nose in the hair at the base. He hollows his cheeks and bobs his head. Rain moans and throws his head back. 

“Good boy. Good fucking boy pup. Do something good with that mouth.” 

Phantom’s tail snakes around to stroke and play with her balls. Rain hisses a curse and rips Phantom off her dick by his leash. He stares at her with wide eyes trying to babble out an excuse. 

“What part of mouth is so hard to understand stupid little puppy?” 

“Rain I’m sorry—“ 

“What did you say?”

“Ma’am! I’m sorry ma’am please” 

“Strip and get on the bed. Ass up.” 

Phantom jumps up and rips his shirt off sending buttons flying across the room. He almost falls on his face trying to get his pants off and onto the bed at the same time. Rain slips his panties the rest of the way off. She fishes out a half-empty bottle of lube, settling behind Phantom on her knees. She pulls one of her gloves off to pour a generous amount onto her hand. She pulls her dress up to sit above his hips. She jacks herself a few times to spread the lube and spit around. She lines herself up with Phantom’s waiting hole and slaps his ass. 

“Wait wait wait you’re not gonna prep first?” He yelps. 

“Color?” 

“Green.” 

Rain sneers “Do you really think you deserve it pup?”

She pushes the head in. 

“You spent all day stalking me.” 

She pushes in a little more. 

“You lie to my face.” 

She pulls all the way out. 

“And then you break two rules. So tell me pup do you really think you deserve it?” 

Phantom whines and writhes under her “No ma’am. You’re right I don't, I'm sorry.” 

Rain slams into him bottoming out in one thrust. Phantom howls at the stretch. Rain wasn’t big enough to really hurt him, but it still burned without any prep. He’d definitely feel her long after this was over. 

She gives him no time to adjust, immediately setting a brutal pace, one hand gripping his hip and the other keeping a tight hold on the leash. She yanks on it in time with her thrusts pulling strangled little moans from Phantom. 

“Ma’am please please. I’m good, I'm good, I promise.” 

He tries to grind his hips back on Rain’s cock, trying to get her deeper. 

“Are you?” 

“Please I am I am I’m good.”

“Then fucking take it.” 

She shifts her hips and the next thrust hits his prostate dead on. He keens and clenches hard around her. She groans and throws her head back. 

“Come on pup be a good boy. Be a good fucking boy.” She punctuates each word with a thrust, grinding her hips against his ass. 

She pulls hard on the leash until Phantom is pulled up and pressed tight against Rain’s chest. She licks and kisses over his shoulders before dragging her tongue up the column of his throat to his ear. She pants heavy and low in his ear and nips at the lobe. 

“You take it so well, slutty little puppy.” 

She pinches and twists his nipples. He whines high and feminine. Rain drags her hand down his body and grabs his dick. She jacks him as she grinds into him. It only takes a few more strokes and Phantom is spilling hot and heavy into her hand.

“Thank you ma’am thank you thank you thank you.” He pants and whines as Rain milks every drop out of him. She brings her hand to his face.

“Clean your mess puppy.” 

Phantom drops his mouth and wraps his tongue around her fingers when she shoves them into his mouth. He sucks until he feels her bite into his shoulder shooting into him thrusting her spend as deep as she can manage into him. 

She takes a moment to catch her breath before lapping at the wound to close it. She drops them onto the bed, kissing Phantom sweetly between the horns. She unclips the collar and kisses around the red marks left on his neck. 

“You were such a good boy for me pup. Come on let’s get you cleaned up.” 

Phantom whines and shakes his head burying his nose into her chest. 

“Wanna stay here?” 

He nods and tilts his head up to kiss the underside of her chin making her laugh. 

“You know we have to clean you up love bug.” 

“Aren’t you like a super water ghoul right now? Just” he gestures vaguely “magic it away.” 

“No bug, I can't magic it away, it has to go somewhere.” 

“Fiiiine” he groans. 

Rain just laughs and hauls him up, pulling him to the shower. She holds him close, swaying slightly to a silent rhythm. 

[sorryimananti-romantic]

Horizon (Chapter 3)

series masterlist

faerieprince!san x oc

royal/fantasy au, soulmate au

chapter wc: ~22k

chapter warnings: fluff, angst, tragedy, violence warnings, mention of death/su!cide, past traumas, atz interactions, suggestive

chapter synopsis: gaeul goes to her hometown ascella with the 8 princes and yena. san and gaeul reveal their feelings to each other amidst the confusion of their connection. when gaeul visits her uncle to get answers and learns the nature of her bond with san, she mourns what could have been a normal life with san and her cold fire element becomes dominant. As they all try to make sense of the events that led to gaeul's present, they come up with a plan to make things right- which would involve san and gaeul being dimensions apart.

manager-nim: @eightmakesonebraincell (roasts the f outta me but also makes sure i am doing a good job <3)

“I can’t believe we decided to bring them all,” Hongjoong muttered, drawing his dark cloak further down his forehead and Gaeul, who was walking beside him, snickered. “So much for staying anonymous.”

“It was your idea,” Gaeul pointed out, making Hongjoong scowl further. “Besides… the group of you really don’t look like a normal group, I’m sorry.”

Hongjoong paused with Gaeul, turning around to look at the rest of them who were… well, anything but normal. Each one was dressed differently for starters and it didn’t look like they were travelling together or even to one place. Mingi looked like he had gotten out of bed, Seonghwa looked like he was going to a party, Yena and Yeosang stood out too much as they walked together- it would be obvious they were twins and twins among the fae were a rarity in the first place. Wooyoung and Jongho looked like they were trying to hide from the public, making it painfully obvious, and San and Yunho were dressed casually enough to pass as normal people. Hongjoong sighed and Gaeul raised a brow.

“I mean… you also look like you’re trying too hard. Don’t you guys travel in public?”

“I think it’s the first time after Yena’s marriage we’re all travelling publicly like this,” Hongjoong resumed walking. “We won’t be able to travel undetected, and we can’t portal because we don’t know how portalling would react with your magic. I just wish we could leave some of them home-”

“You should have stayed home!” Wooyoung, who had somehow made it to the front from the very back, said. “You attract the most attention.”

“Says the loudest one,” Hongjoong muttered. “Let’s just try to stay quiet until we reach the damned river.”

Gaeul and Wooyoung snickered at that- it was Wooyoung’s very own idea to walk to the river since it was near and they would have to ditch their rides anyway. It was barely forty minutes of walking through the town but already quite a few people had recognised the royals, and Gaeul had a feeling that even though they were masking their magic, they just had a certain aura to them that caught people’s eyes. It made her feel out of place.

Gaeul decided to make small talk with Hongjoong in an attempt to wipe the frown off his face since Wooyoung somehow kept finding ways to annoy him, to everyone’s amusement. Gaeul sent a glare in Wooyoung’s direction before matching Hongjoong’s pace and asking, “I’ve always wondered how light magic is different from the other elements, because we haven’t really heard of instances where a person with nature magic could control light- or dark, for that matter. What makes it unique?”

A ghost of a smile crept up Hongjoong’s face as he thought. “Light magic might possibly be more diverse than nature magic. Nature magic is unique because every ‘natural’ element can be controlled by nature users to some extent. Light magic… it’s ambiguous. Like nature users can feel if something is wrong with nature itself, I can feel it too- as long as light in one form or another touches it.”

“So you could feel my magic because of that?” Gaeul asked and Hongjoong nodded. “But how does light magic come in handy in battle?”

“Well, apart from the obvious which is blinding everyone, and I mean literally,” Hongjoong smirked and Gaeul ooh-ed at that. “Light magic is the most dangerous because it can… heal.”

“What?” Gaeul frowned. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Imagine eating more medicine than prescribed,” Hongjoong said, “Everything in excess is a poison. Light magic- mine, specifically, can enter anyone’s mind even without direct contact and heal- or ‘un-heal’, as I call it.”

“Basically he can just drive anyone mad with a little bit of his magic,” Yeosang commented. “Hongjoong is the last person you want in front of you in a fight.”

“It’s also why your magic resisted so much,” Hongjoong explained. “My magic could heal whatever’s wrong if your magic would simply let me- if there is a possibility in the first place. Your magic didn’t even let me try.”

“Which makes me want to applaud your new magic,” Yeosang was grinning. “It’s quite something, if I have to say.”

Gaeul made a face. “I just can’t get used to it. I feel sick.”

“You’ll get better with time,” Hongjoong assured. “You used to be skin and bones, no? Look at you now. You’re as normal as us.”

“Again,” Gaeul laughed. “You’re anything but normal.”

“What is normal?” Hongjoong raised a brow. “There’s no definition of normal in this world, Gaeul. As long as you believe that, you’ll never feel out of place.”

Gaeul made an impressed face, meeting eyes with Yeosang who was mirroring her expressions. “Wow. I should write this down. Hongjoong rarely says something so wise-”

“Hey!” Hongjoong yelled and the two burst out laughing. Wooyoung told them to shut up if they didn’t want to attract more attention than they already were, also pointing out how they could see the river now. Gaeul sighed when she spotted it- the last time she had been near the river, she wanted to die.

Somehow… this time, she wanted to live. Simply live. The empty pit in her heart told her it might not be possible, but the company she had for weeks now… it was the most heartwarming. Even though they could end her in a heartbeat, they were also the ones urging her to live and not give up. Gaeul’s heart warmed- she couldn’t be so pessimistic when she had all of them around.

As they neared the river, they could spot the yacht prepared for their three day (barely two if Yunho would help) journey following the river to reach the outskirts of Gaeul’s hometown. Yunho thanked Wooyoung for arranging a transport that could speedily take them along the river without him having to expend most of his magic. Hongjoong took the lead as they settled in the yacht, arranging their bags inside, Mingi immediately taking out his sleeping bag because apparently he hadn’t been able to get proper sleep since he arrived here. Yeosang and Hongjoong followed Mingi’s lead, the rest laughing and calling them old but everyone knew they were just tired from travelling the most.

“I feel sorry for Yunho,” Hongjoong said as the guards took leave, Yunho operating the yacht from the bow alone. “He’s probably as sleepy as us but he’ll never leave guard if we’re all in his territory.”

“Territory?” Gaeul asked.

“As long as there’s even a tub of water,” Jongho laughed, “It’s Yunho’s ‘territory’. Don’t even try arguing with him unless you want to be drenched.”

“Wake me up when we reach,” Yeosang muttered, shutting the sleeping bag and earning a kick from Mingi. 

Gaeul watched the rest- San was pouring some drinks, meeting eyes with Gaeul and offering her one. Wooyoung was handing out the glasses to everyone who was awake, taking what looked like a huge glass of coffee to Yunho who was already yawning. Jongho looked like he was deep in his thoughts as he stared at the land they left behind. 

San handed Gaeul her drink. “How are you feeling?”

“Better than ever,” Gaeul smiled and San nodded, looking like he was about to say something but then Seonghwa called and he left with a nod. Gaeul stood awkwardly at first, wondering if she should just sleep as well but then decided to give Yunho some company since he was alone and sleepy.

“Can I…?” Gaeul stood near him and he smiled warmly, patting the space next to him and Gaeul carefully sat, letting her legs dangle, grinning when she felt water droplets splash her bare legs. She stared at the endless river for a few moments, wondering what kind of a person Yunho was- she really hadn’t interacted much with him so far.

“I hope you’re not seasick,” Yunho asked cautiously.

“Oh, not at all,” Gaeul assured. “For some reason, I feel more relaxed.”

Yunho raised a brow at that. “That’s something I haven’t heard in a while.”

“Really?” Gaeul smiled. “Don’t people feel relaxed when they’re travelling in the sea?”

“The endless water terrifies most,” Yunho chuckled. “But… perhaps because you’ve lived next to the sea all your life. Even your anti-magic can’t deny that.”

“True,” Gaeul grinned. “Actually, I always wished I had some affinity for water magic- the beach was a chaotic place to live in. Sometimes I wished I could make the waves softer. Sometimes I wished the opposite.”

“That’s understandable,” Yunho nodded. “Didn’t you say the ying-yang bloodline possessed at least two affinities for other elements?”

“One other apart from their nature magic,” Gaeul corrected. “Usually two, Rarely three.”

“And you only had an affinity for earth magic?” Yunho asked.

“At least that’s what I’ve been told,” Gaeul said and Yunho frowned in confusion. “For some reason, my mother never let me test more elements, saying I was too young. People usually only focus on mastering one element and earth is the safest for us to practise in public without revealing that we’re from the yin-yang bloodline.”

“Interesting,” Yunho scoffed. “I can’t believe I- that we didn’t know about the yin-yang bloodline. I really thought I knew everything about this world until I met you.”

“Oops,” Gaeul grinned guiltily. “Must be a shocker.”

Yunho laughed. “Do you think you have- or had another affinity? It might not be too late to know.”

“Well, it might sound weird because I think I’m just obsessed with water bodies in general,” Gaeul dangled her legs nervously. “But sometimes I did feel like I might have a teeny tiny affinity for water. I always felt a deep connection with water- and sometimes, if I tried hard enough… I could make water droplets rise in the air.”

“That’s… definitely a water affinity, Gaeul,” Yunho shook his head as he laughed. “Did you think you were crazy and were only imagining it?”

“Well,” Gaeul pouted. “I thought it could be air too. Can’t Wooyoung make water rise in the air?”

“Plausible,” Yunho nodded. “You need to master it to use that part of your magic, right?”

“Yep,” Gaeul sighed. “With earth magic… it’s the easiest for us. People who had air or water affinities had to struggle a lot to actually be able to use it, unless they’re under distress-”

Gaeul’s mind went down memory lane- the day she had tried drowning herself… had her magic simply resisted her death or was it her water affinity that saved her?

“What are you thinking?”

“The day I tried to… drown myself,” Gaeul looked at Yunho. “I… I think it might have been the water affinity in me that tried to keep me alive too.”

“That’s a theory that I really don’t want to test again,” Yunho grimaced. “If you did possess water magic before everything happened, shouldn’t it have turned into something opposite now? Like with your nature and earth magic?”

“What’s the opposite of water?” Gaeul asked and Yunho almost passed out from confusion, turning around and spotting Jongho nearby.

“Hey Jongho! What’s the opposite of water?” 

Jongho looked at the two as if they were crazy but the way they looked so eager for an answer, he sighed. "I don't know. Land?"

The two turned to look at each other. "Land means… earth. And your earth magic already changed. So where did the water go?"

Gaeul almost cried. "I'm learning about my possible water affinity after I died and came back to life. Great."

Yunho laughed, patting her once. "That's okay. Once we figure out how to deal with your dominant magic, who knows? Maybe you'll have a different kind of water magic than anyone else."

"I can't imagine…" Gaeul muttered. "But tell me… does possessing water magic make you feel safe in the sea too?"

"The sea, it feels like home to me," Yunho smiled. "Whenever I use my magic near a water body, it both tires me and gives me strength."

Gaeul nodded, asking about what else he could do with his magic and while the two talked, Wooyoung caught San stealing glances at Gaeul. Wooyoung sighed, kicking his elbow lightly to grab his attention. “Are we gonna talk about how you keep staring at Gaeul?”

“I don’t keep staring at Gaeul-”

“Bullshit,” Wooyoung muttered. “What are you not telling me, San?”

San looked at Wooyoung, biting the inside of his cheeks as he thought about it. “I don’t want to say it out loud. Don’t make me talk about it, Wooyoung.”

“I do have a hunch,” Wooyoung began. “I just don’t see how it’s… possible.”

“Exactly,” San sighed. “It can’t be possible, right? It’s just a big old coincidence, right? Because if Kieran killed my- If she’s going through all this because of me-”

Wooyoung watched San’s voice almost crack and he turned around, staring off into the distance, trying to control his breathing. Wooyoung looked at Gaeul- she looked so innocent. She had no idea about how twisted everything was if their theory was true. Wooyoung let San have a moment before he patted his back.

“You know we’re here for you.”

“I know,” San nodded, his eyes glazed as he looked at Wooyoung. “And I’m… scared. If she can’t control her magic, what are we going to do, Wooyoung? What am I going to do?”

—-----------------

“And… it’s another win!” Yunho high-fived Jongho and Gaeul while the rest of the yacht burst into groans and protests.

“Who paired Yunho with them!” Wooyoung was the first to speak out, his scars from the previous time Gaeul and Jongho had been on a winning streak against him still fresh. “Who let Yunho play!”

Mingi put a hand over Wooyoung’s mouth and the three laughed as they watched. Seonghwa only slapped the two on their heads as a punishment for losing again. “I should have paired up with Hongjoong.”

“That’s what you get for betraying me!” Hongjoong stuck out his tongue at Seonghwa. “At least we came second.”

“That’s what you get for betraying your wife too,” Yena was clearly enjoying the chaos. “We could have kicked Hongjoong out of this team for you.”

“Hey!” Hongjoong threw a card at Yena which she sent through a portal to hit Hongjoong square in the face, making everyone holler and Gaeul gaped at that- she hadn’t seen this sort of magic in her whole life. Yena noticed that, smiling. “Portal magic comes in handy during such gatherings.”

“I bet it does,” Gaeul laughed, glancing behind Yena at San who was sitting at the edge, unfazed by the noise. 

If Gaeul was honest with herself, she was avoiding San a little. It wasn’t anything he had done- it was just her own guilt eating her up because after everything San had done for her… she had almost killed him. But to her surprise, the more she avoided him, the more restless she became. 

If she was completely honest with herself, she was sure she needed San to send her magic through her. Something about his magic, his touch alone without the magic was simply healing. And perhaps… she was addicted. After all, she hadn’t been sick ever since he arrived. But it hurt him, and she couldn’t have that.

Whatever their connection was, she needed to find a way to break it to keep him safe. She didn’t want him to hurt when she did. She wouldn’t wish it upon anyone. And San had been so awfully kind that it caused her heart to ache at the thought of putting him in danger again.

But she also needed him, she knew that deep down, for as long as she was trying to figure out whatever was wrong with her magic. She felt it was horribly selfish of her to cling to San- or perhaps, she was clinging to life itself.

That empty pit in her heart reminded her time and time again that she shouldn’t hope for something so foolish, threatening to swallow her whole if she so much as dared hope for more. But…

As if he had felt it, San turned around and met Gaeul’s eyes and she immediately whipped her neck away but it was too late. When she looked back, San looked mildly amused. Gaeul raised her brow but San turned back to staring at the sky.

Was this an invitation to join him or was it an indication that she should leave him alone? Perhaps he hated her. Perhaps he wished she’d left him alone too-

San turned around again, this time his brows furrowed in worry. Gaeul’s heart sank- had he somehow felt the deep regret and guilt threatening to swallow her? San nudged his neck and Gaeul made her way up- he sure had chosen a nice spot. Gaeul stood awkwardly but San patted the space next to him.

For about half an hour, none of them said a word, just sat in a silence that was awkward at first but then turned comfortable as each of them tried to figure out what to reveal and what to hide. When the rest had dispersed and mostly disappeared, San looked at Gaeul. “What’s eating you up alive?”

Gaeul turned and halted, realising how close they were. Cautiously and smoothly she slid away so she could meet eyes with him without feeling like she’d turn into a puddle by his gaze alone. “You know what it is, don’t you?”

San raised his left hand, a half smile on his face as he showed her it was just fine. Gaeul shook her head. “You hate me, don’t you? Just admit that you do.”

“And why would I have a reason to hate you?”

Gaeul looked away, biting her lips as she tried to stop herself from just bursting out and telling him that it had only been two days but she missed him, she missed him so very much, him with his smiles and warm eyes and constant touches-

“I hurt you- not just that day. I hurt you everyday.”

“Gaeul-”

“No, let me speak,” Gaeul raised a hand, locking eyes with him. “I’ve been hurting you before I knew who you were. And I’ve been using you just because you calm me down. Because of you… I’m hoping to live again when I get a reminder everyday about how I’m not supposed to be even breathing in the first place.”

“Didn’t I warn you not to say stuff like this?” San sighed, drawing his hand up to her hair as if to tuck it behind but then hesitating, searching her eyes instead. “If I tell you that it doesn’t bother me, this pain? That feeling whatever you are feeling doesn’t bother me?”

“Then you’re either lying or you are strong enough to dismiss it as nothing.”

“But I’m not strong enough to dismiss it as nothing, no one is,” San let his hands trail like a whisper along her hair before sighing and dropping it. “And I’m not lying. Whatever’s happening is not your fault in any way, Gaeul. I know you can’t help but feel that way, but you are the victim here. I feel like it’s my fault- that it’s our fault that you’re going through this. I- we should be the ones apologising to you.”

Gaeul passed a sad smile, “You’re all helping me. That’s more than enough.”

“Then there’s nothing to be worried about, eh?” San smiled, about to get up when Gaeul grabbed his sleeve, surprising him.

“Why do I feel like you’re avoiding me then?”

There it was- the deep sigh he let out that sent a shiver down Gaeul’s spine, the furrowing of his brows and clenching of his jaw as if he was trying to stop himself from saying something that he shouldn’t. San sat back down, facing her now.

“Because I needed to clear my head.”

“Why do you need to clear your head?” Gaeul tilted her head as she asked. 

“You confuse me, Gaeul.” San’s lips curved into a smile and Gaeul felt as if she could finally breathe because she missed this. “This… bond that we have, it confuses me so much. I needed to think.”

“And… did this ‘thinking’ enlighten you?” 

“It may have,” his deep voice made her raise a brow. “And it has only confused me further.”

“Well, that means you don’t need to avoid me to ‘think’ anymore. You don’t need to get more confused than you already are,” Gaeul laughed and he shook his head in amusement. “And… I-I miss you, San. Please don’t think too much from now on, will you?”

San threw his head back as he laughed deeply and Gaeul was tempted to slap him anywhere at this point. San shook his head again as he looked at her. “You missed me? I’ve been right here-”

“Yet you’ve been so far,” Gaeul pouted and San shut up at that. “You haven’t talked to me in two days. You haven’t… sent your magic through me and it’s rattling me- could I have become addicted to your magic?”

“Gaeul-”

“You haven’t touched me ever since I hurt you, and it’s killing me,” Gaeul admitted in a voice so quiet San was afraid he had imagined it. “I don’t know why. Maybe I’ve become addicted to it. I shouldn’t have, right? I mean, we have to part ways one day or another, I’m asking too much-”

The cautious brushing of San’s fingers against hers sent that familiar comforting jolt through their bodies, more intense than ever and Gaeul relished it- she couldn’t believe it. It was like a drug, this need to touch him and feel this burning sensation course through her body that told her she was more alive than she could ever be in that moment. San must have felt it too because he was biting his lip so hard he was about to draw blood. San moved his hand to hold hers and let that jolt course through them a second time, not realising that they were one in that moment.

Gaeul opened her eyes and let out a breath she didn’t realise she had been holding. San was hesitant but sent his magic through her and she readily accepted- almost embraced it. He wasn’t in danger anymore. It was a relief.

“I’m sorry if I sound too… demanding,” Gaeul’s head was down in embarrassment. “But… if you could feel half of what I feel when your magic meets mine-”

“I feel all of it,” San’s voice was hoarse and Gaeul looked at him. “I feel it in every pore of my body too. And I…” He drew closer, holding her other hand in his as if to prove it that he felt the same. “I think I might be addicted too.” 

Gaeul wondered why it had to be him. It felt so right and so wrong for him to hold her hands in his and brush his fingers again and again to feel alive. It felt so right when he drew even closer and left both her hands, only to tuck her hair behind- he had been itching to do that ever since she came near him- it felt so right when he cupped her face and looked at her as if she could both heal and destroy him beyond repair. There was relief on his face but worry in his eyes.

“Let me show you something.”

San joined his forehead with Gaeul and she shut her eyes, for a moment inside San’s mind and seeing the world through his eyes- brighter, better. Then San touched her hand and made her feel what he felt-

Gaeul never thought the sensation he felt when they touched was this intense- it was different for him. It was so intense for him- Gaeul’s was muted in comparison and it baffled her because even what little she felt compared to him made her feel like she was in the clouds. San felt it so wonderfully- with every vein in his system, a tickling feeling that was so irresistible- it truly was addicting. If San felt this every time he touched her…

Gaeul gasped as she drew back. “I… I had no idea we were feeling it differently.”

“I realised when I first saw your memories,” San admitted. “I think if you were… normal- without this anti-magic and coming-back-to-life thing, you would have felt it like I do too. But your body reacts differently now. Your anti-magic tries to deny it but your body… it can’t. It means… this bond isn’t new.”

Gaeul felt as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped on her. “What do you mean it’s not new? It existed before I died? What bond could make it through death and try to surface and fight the anti-magic if you’re right?”

San smiled knowingly, his finger trailing down her temple and stopping at her jaw near her chin. “It’s a theory. I’m not sure yet. You don’t need to worry about it- I’m doing enough of that. Just focus on training your magic and getting healthy, okay?”

“But-”

“Promise me,” he cupped her face and Gaeul sighed internally as he met eyes with her. “Promise me you’ll stop worrying so much. That you’ll stop thinking you don’t deserve to live. Promise me that you’ll try your absolute best and not give up.”

Gaeul didn’t answer at first, lost in his deep brown eyes. “You’re asking too much of me.”

“I’m doing all the worrying for you, Gaeul. I’ll find the answers. I’ll protect myself. Don’t worry about hurting me or protecting me. Promise me.”

Those two words reverberated in her entire body, making her wonder if he entered inside her head to say it, to scream it at her. She felt compelled to nod, and she did, which was when San drew closer, hesitantly, his eyes fluttering before he tilted his head and planted a soft kiss on her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Gaeul had forgotten to breathe.

“I’m just… sorry,” San kissed her again, this time so near her lips Gaeul almost groaned. She resisted the urge to grab his collar right where she could see his throat bob and- “I’ll be the one protecting you. So you don’t need to worry about anything. Everyone’s here for you- I’m here for you. If I ever hear you talk about your life like that again-”

San paused and Gaeul scoffed. “Didn’t you say something like this on the mountain too? ‘If you ever say something like that again’ and-”

San grinned devilishly as he leaned forward to whisper in her ear, his lips and breath caressing her, “If you ever say something like that again… I’ll make you forget how to breathe.”

If San had been someone else, it would have definitely sounded like a threat, but his sultry tone and the underlying meaning didn’t make it less of a threat- in fact, it made Gaeul’s body burn. She noticed him smirking and she scoffed in disbelief, pushing him away. “Shut up!”

San watched her flush a million shades of pink before she ran away, leaving him smiling more widely than ever as he watched the river glow a beautiful purple.

—----------------

What sort of bond could survive death?

The question was like a plague in Gaeul’s head, replaying over and over as soon as she was left alone with her thoughts. She tried to shake it off- San had asked her not to worry about it. He had promised to find the answers, so she should let him be. 

But… it was more curiosity than anything else that made her wonder if such bonds did exist in the first place. Perhaps it was something similar to a magical bond- something like the yin-yang magic in her blood, that could still be a part of someone’s existence even in death.

And perhaps… perhaps San was wrong. Maybe this bond did not exist before- she would have known if it did, right? 

Gaeul shook her head, throwing another pebble in the river- the pebbles courtesy of Jongho who had noticed her fidgeting and scratching at her hands and had handed her a bag of pebbles to throw at the river if she got frustrated. 

It was almost evening- they were one day away from their destination. The rest of them spent their time either sleeping or chatting, and Gaeul was mostly giving them space, making up excuses not to intrude- after all, they shared a history together. She had nothing on them. She mostly observed what sort of a relationship they shared and it was all so… natural. They just fit beautifully with each other. It reminded her of her parents- how naturally they interacted. 

What also intrigued her was Princess Yena, whom none of them knew (except for Seonghwa and Hongjoong but in the form of vague childhood memories) until about three years ago. It looked like they had known her forever. She had heard them talk about how their magic was ‘linked’- they could feel each other across lands, across oceans. Perhaps that was why Yena fit in so well and Gaeul could never. Perhaps… the bond Gaeul shared with San was something like that. 

But Gaeul was an ordinary faerie- as ordinary you could be while coming from a powerful magical bloodline- her parents, her uncles, her grandparents that possessed the same magic were also ordinary people. They lived ordinary lives, as far as she knew. What changed with her?

Gaeul tossed another pebble, sighing. Another thing that plagued her was this whole timeline mess that was beyond her- or anyone’s understanding for that matter. How was her death any different from Seonghwa’s? Why did he continue to simply live while she apparently stayed dead but then came back all… broken and dark-

“If you stare at the river any harder, you’ll split it into half.”

Gaeul turned to look at Yena who looked amused and she smiled- Princess Yena was incredibly pretty and… had an ethereal air to her, like Yeosang. Perhaps because of their magic- Princess of Space and Princess of Spirit. They did look otherworldly. 

“I’m just… confused, is all,” Gaeul sighed. “As I’m sure everyone else is too.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Yena huffed, staring at the river like Gaeul. “I was as confused as you once, if not more. I know it’s the most frustrated I’ve ever felt in my life.”

“How did you… deal with everything? I’m sure it took you a long time to find answers.”

“It took me a lot of time to find all the answers I was searching for- and some questions I didn’t even realise existed,” Yena said. “But… thanks to everyone’s help, I was able to get through it. And I think that’s why nobody leaves you alone, Gaeul. We’ve all been here once in our lives.”

Gaeul nodded- she was sure the Princes had problems too-

“Though, I must say, I don’t think anyone’s had it as bad as me,” Yena chuckled. “Ignorance really is bliss.”

“How did you find out you were the Princess?” Gaeul cautiously asked and Yena smiled to let her know it was okay to ask.

“I was just another girl, in Fomalhaut, of all the places,” Yena said and Gaeul raised her brows in surprise. “I think there was a reason why I was in Fomalhaut- the island with no ruler- no Prince. If I had been in one of the continents, they would have found me sooner.

“I was ordinary- portal magic is unique but in Fomalhaut, there are many people with unique magic abilities. I knew a shapeshifter and someone who could twist dreams. Unheard of, right?”

“Shapeshifters are very rare,” Gaeul agreed, “but dream-benders? I’ve never heard of that.”

“I think it’s kept a secret for obvious reasons,” Yena nodded. “Anyways… I was in a similar situation as you. I knew nothing about who I was before the age of 6. The block in my memories made my magic act funny- portal business is dangerous as it is. So I went to San’s kingdom in search of a healer, where I encountered San on the road, out of all the people in the world.”

“That’s… a huge coincidence… isn’t it?” Gaeul asked. 

“I still don’t know,” Yena sighed. “I’d like to think it was. San knew I was different from the moment he saw me, which was why he so readily suggested to help me. So began my journey of countless healing sessions, San challenging my magic and me- but thanks to him, I got most of my memories back and learned how to control my magic better. We went to Jongho’s kingdom, Wooyoung arrived there only to tell me I smell like Yeosang- I think that’s how they realised it might be true.”

“You smell like… Yeosang? That’s a very Wooyoung thing to say,” Gaeul laughed, shaking her head.

“It is,” Yena scoffed. “I didn’t want to accept it at first- I had found out I had been kidnapped when I was 2, and the person who kidnapped me wanted me to learn time travelling for his selfish reasons. He wiped my memory clean and dumped me in Fomalhaut. I was not ready to accept that I was Kang Yena of Space- just like you… are not ready to accept that your magic has become something else entirely.”

Gaeul nodded- Yena was definitely the most relatable person here, she realised. She told her and Yena admitted that she had never related more to someone before Gaeul as well. 

“I’m telling you my story so you can learn from it,” Yena said. “Patience… not impulsivity will bring you to your conclusion, though we might slip one day. I still wonder if my decision was more impulsive when I decided to bring Seonghwa back.”

“How did that work out? I still don’t understand that part- and I think nobody here does,” Gaeul admitted.

“All I understand is that you must have been killed right when the time travelling happened- and Kieran figured it out quick enough,” Yena looked grim. “To understand this… I think I should tell you about how I was destined to time travel in the first place- and for that, Seonghwa was destined to die. When I had no idea what was going to happen and hadn’t even met Seonghwa yet, the future Yena had already travelled back in time- it’s a loop, isn’t it?”

“Ah,” Gaeul finally understood but then frowned. “But… how do you prevent a time travel loop in the first place?”

“For that, you have to be aware of all the timelines. I wasn’t aware- it was only when I travelled back did I realise that everything was supposed to happen in the first place. To understand this… there was the present Yena who travelled with Jongho, San and Wooyoung to Hongjoong’s kingdom. There, she met Seonghwa and Yunho. But Seonghwa and Yunho had already met the future Yena and they had to pretend they didn’t know the present Yena in order to avoid creating a mess.”

Gaeul clapped. “I finally understand… or at least I think I do.”

Yena smiled as she nodded. “So when the present Yena went back in time… she became the future Yena. She miscalculated and dropped herself in the middle of the ocean. Yunho saved her, they went to Seonghwa’s kingdom, and together they went to Hongjoong’s kingdom where she hid from everyone else until it was time to change everything- to merge with the other Yena so that there would only be one version of me, one timeline- where Seonghwa isn’t killed by Kieran and gets to live.”

“I think you should explain this to the others too, because they were very clueless after hearing this from Hongjoong,” Gaeul laughed. “He couldn’t explain very well.”

“Pretty sure he’s still a little confused,” Yena winked. “Actually, time travelling was a secret kept for generations. Only the closest friends of mine know- and you. How you got involved in all this mess… is it safe to say you were destined to? Are we now a part of something big that we don’t know yet?”

“Uh, I hope not?” Gaeul grimaced- she did not want to get into more trouble than she already was.

“It could be something good too, but I have this sinking feeling in my heart, if I have to be honest,” Yena admitted. “Because Kieran planned this, it means the game has been going on since two years ago. What I thought I finished… it’s still not over.”

“Where’s this Kieran guy now?” 

“His home,” Yena sighed. “The planet of darklings- if he’s still alive.”

“So darklings did move from Earth like we did?” Gaeul asked.

“Apparently,” Yena nodded. “I have a darkling… friend. Maybe I should ask him.”

“And how would you do that?” Gaeul frowned. “Don’t tell me you can portal there too-”

“I don’t even want to try that,” Yena put a hand on her heart as if the thought of it scared her more than she would admit. “But… I do have control over dimensions. The other darkling- he has a similar magic as mine. We are able to meet in another dimension, but I really don’t know how to contact him. Oh, and I think we could train you in that dimension too.”

“Is it necessary to train me?” Gaeul pursed her lips.

“Chances are you have to live with this magic for the rest of your life. Every magic is poison if not utilised well, just like yours. So you need to master this… anti-magic. And we need to figure out what to call it because anti-magic is a stupid, stupid name-”

“It makes sense!” Jongho, having just come out from the cabin, overheard. “I named it.”

“Of course you did,” Yena pinched the bridge of her nose. “Hongjoong said there are no records of such magic, right?”

“But nature magic- or at least, I can do something similar- but to a very small extent,” Jongho said. “Watch.”

He plucked a flower out of thin air, making both Gaeul and Yena wow. After showing them the flower, with his other hand he concentrated his magic into his fingertips, making the flower wilt and eventually die. “Not exactly the same, but similar. I un-heal it.”

“I think we should just see what she can do with her magic before we think of a name for it, because if she has to live with this… we better have a good name for it. And a cool name, okay? Not anti-magic or anti-nature.”

Jongho glared at Yena but nodded, sighing. “Let’s hope she gets used to it.”

Gaeul nodded, turning to watch the river flow calmly, Yunho finally catching up on his sleep so he could drive the yacht at full speed tomorrow. 

One day. One day until she would know just what went wrong with her.

Yena patted her back as if she could hear her, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

—---------------

“I think we should have left Gaeul home…” Mingi looped his arm with Hongjoong’s as he grimaced. “I can literally feel her burning from within.”

“I’m thinking we should have too,” Hongjoong almost hugged Mingi back as the two walked away in fear.

“It’s not that bad… is it?” Wooyoung frowned, scratching the back of his neck as he watched Gaeul hurl in the basket again, throwing up but she had already emptied everything. She only choked on her own breath now. “Nevermind. It is.”

As soon as the yacht had entered Ascella, Gaeul had started feeling sick all of a sudden. She had already thrown up thrice and looked and felt horrible. San’s magic couldn’t do much, and it had all of them wondering if it was the black hole being so near that made her sick, and if the distance had made it better for her.

After Gaeul was done, she went to wash her face and rinse her mouth, gulping water down hungrily. She felt parched- and cold. In the peak summer, she was feeling cold for some reason. San and Yena watched her wrap her shawl around herself, almost shivering. 

“Does she have a fever?” Yena asked. “Should I check? I think I can’t feel her magic.”

San nodded- he couldn’t feel her as well- not as strongly as he did before. Yena went ahead and put her hand on Gaeul’s forehead- she was literally cold. Yena bit her lips, looking around and grabbing the first scarf she saw, wrapping it around her neck. Gaeul muttered thanks, looking helplessly at the two. 

“Get Mingi,” Yena ordered and San hurried outside. He almost had to drag Mingi inside but as soon as he saw Gaeul, he exhaled- she looked like death.

“She’s feeling cold,” Yena looked at Mingi. “Can you do something about it?”

“I don’t think I should,” Mingi sighed. “I can feel her magic burning. What if I agitate it?”

“Can you try and see if it works?” Yena asked and Mingi nodded, cautiously walking to Gaeul and touching her forehead, examining what exactly was going on-

Her body felt cold but her magic felt hot. He could make her feel warmer physically but he could do nothing about her magic. Mingi looked at San. “Is your magic not working right now?”

“Not as it should,” San was biting his nails nervously. “What’s wrong? Can you feel it?”

“I can only make her physically warm,” Mingi sent an ember of warmth inside Gaeul, watching her immediately relax as the shivering stopped- but she still looked a footstep away from death. “Her magic is not reacting well to whatever’s… waiting.”

“Well… it’s unavoidable anyway,” Gaeul finally said, clearing her throat. “I feel better now. Thanks, Mingi. I’ll manage, just… be careful. All of you.”

Yena nodded- Gaeul definitely had her wits about her and she was not giving in. This was good. “It’s going to be okay soon. San… keep doing your thing, please. We’ll look for a ride before we call you, so stay inside.”

San nodded and Mingi and Yena left, leaving him with Gaeul. Gaeul smiled weakly at him and he shook his head. “I wish I knew what was wrong so I could do something about it.”

“It’s okay, just… come here,” Gaeul patted the space next to her and San sat down beside her, holding her hand. Gaeul couldn’t say she felt better but it definitely made her feel safe. She put her head on his shoulder, surprising him. He didn’t say anything, just kept caressing her hand for a few minutes until he thought she was asleep, but then she spoke.

“I’m so tired, San. I want this to be over soon.”

San wasn’t sure if he could feel her heart breaking or if it was his own breaking at how little her voice sounded. He sighed deeply, removing his hand from her loose grip and before she could protest, he had his arm around her, caressing her head and his other hand holding hers, bringing her close. Gaeul’s head rested on San’s chest and she could hear his heartbeat-

He was definitely feeling nervous.

“Everything is going to be okay soon,” he wasn’t sure if he was saying it for her or for himself. “You stay strong, okay? We’re with you, all of us.”

Gaeul nodded, cuddling into him. She sure as hell was privileged to be with San right now, she thought. San kept caressing her head and it made her more relaxed than ever. She even felt better now- and she wondered if it was crazy that a little skinship with the Prince of Earth made her feel better. 

She couldn’t cling to him forever- she had to find answers. She had to get her magic under control.

Gaeul was about to draw apart but it was as if San had read her thoughts- he held her tighter. “You’re not going anywhere until I let you. And no- you’re not a burden. Don’t ever think that.”

“How did you know I was thinking that?” Gaeul made the mistake of looking up, finding his face so incredibly close that she could see the shades of brown in his eyes, see the freckles on his neck and his face-

“I know exactly how you think- even when I’m not holding you,” San smirked and Gaeul pursed her lips, admitting guilt. “In fact… I rather like it when I hold you, I’m finding.”

“Now is not the time to flirt, Prince San of Earth-”

“Don’t pull rank on me,” San’s body shook with laughter, making her smile and hide her face as best as she could. “I’m only San when I’m with you.”

“Are you this casual with everyone you meet?” Gaeul dared to ask. “I’ve heard how the Prince of Earth is a casual flirt-”

“I’ve never been this casual with someone, mind you,” San’s voice was low and it made Gaeul’s stomach flutter with butterflies. “I’m experiencing a lot of firsts with you, Gaeul. As dangerous as it is.”

Gaeul’s defence mechanism kicked in- as soon as someone flirts or makes her overwhelmed, she resorts to sarcasm. “Ah. So you are flirting with me. Don’t tell me you like me, Prince San.”

San tugged her hand, making her look up and a shiver ran down her spine as she saw his eyes glaze with- 

“Am I supposed to deny that I find you attractive?”

Longing. That’s what San felt.

“Even when I look like death?” Gaeul challenged. She had made the mistake of glancing at her reflection when she came inside after hurling her guts out thrice, and she looked absolutely horrible. 

“Especially when you look like death,” San teased and Gaeul smacked his chest, making them both laugh. 

“I can never tell when you’re joking and when you’re not. You make me so confused!” Gaeul sighed, breaking apart and resorting to holding hands. She could not go back to cuddling him- she was on fire, and it was not because of her magic burning or Mingi’s magic warming her.

San pulled her hand, making her look at him until he was mere inches away from her face. “I don’t joke about this stuff, Gaeul. I find you very attractive. And I might even like you. I’m still figuring out that part.”

“Well, keep your thoughts to yourself while you figure it out,” Gaeul blushed furiously and a devilish grin creeped onto San’s face.

“Do you find me attractive too?”

Gaeul did. Oh hell, she did. But she would never admit it. As San continued to grin at her and her face continued to grow pink, Gaeul rolled her eyes. “Yes. I do. All of you are damn attractive, you’re not the only one. I think it’s your magic that makes you all look so damn-”

“We’re talking about me right now, Gaeul,” San teased.

“Oh, get over yourself,” Gaeul rolled her eyes again but she couldn’t hide the twitch of her lips. San grinned in satisfaction, not noticing Wooyoung enter, but Gaeul did and she decided to get revenge. “Wooyoung’s more attractive.”

Wooyoung halted, looking from San to Gaeul. He looked back at San. “You heard that? I’m more attractive. Get over yourself, San.”

God bless Wooyoung’s ability to read the situation, Gaeul thought, and Wooyoung threw a wink in her direction, making her laugh in acknowledgement while San sulked. “You’re lying.”

“If you want me to go into the details,” Gaeul turned. “Wooyoung is definitely more charming-”

“Go on,” Wooyoung sat in front of them, face in his hands, smiling widely. “I’m also prettier, right?”

Gaeul grimaced- not because he wasn’t pretty, Wooyoung definitely was. But the puppy eyes he was making right now- “...Right.”

“She hesitated!”

“You hesitated!” Wooyoung looked betrayed but Gaeul laughed, shaking her head. 

“I’m only teasing. I was just telling San how all of you are really attractive- I mean, there is a certain air about all of you. All of you have your own charms. I, personally, am smitten by how ethereal Yena and Yeosang look.”

“Ah, no one can deny that,” Wooyoung nodded furiously. “They look different especially when they’re together, don’t they?”

“Right,” Gaeul nodded. “And Seonghwa! He-”

“Don’t even start,” Wooyoung interrupted. “I hear enough about Seonghwa from my Right Hand- you don’t need to.”

“We were talking about me!” San pouted, folding his arms and kicking Wooyoung’s leg, asking him to get out. 

“What do you want me to say?” Gaeul batted her eyelashes innocently. San shook his head in defeat.

Yena entered, asking them all to come out and grab their bags- the ride had been arranged. Wooyoung took off, and San offered to hold Gaeul’s bag. She let him, tugging at him before he went outside and grabbing his attention.

“I… was drawn to you the moment I saw you- and it was before my magic got drawn to you,” Gaeul admitted in a quiet voice and San almost dropped their bags. “Just so you know.”

“Well,” San licked his lips, wondering how to respond. He looked away- it was his turn to blush. “Good to hear.”

Gaeul smiled, slapping his arm before dragging him out. “You better shut up for the rest of the ride.”

“Oh, now I will,” San nodded and Gaeul realised she had left him speechless- and it made her heart flutter wildly.

—------------------

The two carriages they had arranged led them to one of Wooyoung’s guest houses- his parents used it often whenever they travelled to the sea to get a breather while they were alive. It was also the same house Wooyoung and San had stayed in when they were 10. 

Gaeul didn’t feel any better, but she wasn’t shivering and wasn’t throwing up anymore- she had nothing to throw up anyway- and with San’s constant touch and everyone around her, she was distracted enough to stick her head out of the window and watch what had been her hometown pass by as a blur. The others inside her carriage let her have her moment- they only watched her expressions change from longing to confusion to regret and other emotions- to sum it up… she was nostalgic, and they weren’t sure that it was the good kind of nostalgia.

After all… this was the place where everything began- twice. 

When they reached the house, Gaeul was surprised to find that it was just a normal house, big enough for a few families to stay but nothing unusual- people in Ascella usually had family houses like these, such as the one Gaeul used to live in when her parents were alive. Gaeul told Wooyoung she thought the house would be more grand.

“Well… glad to know it looks casual because we don’t want to attract attention,” Wooyoung smiled in satisfaction.

“But do you think the faeries will be able to feel all of you present here- or me?” Gaeul paled at the thought of the people who once knew her look at her with horror or worse, disgust. “I don’t think I want to attract attention as well…”

“We’re masking our powers, so we’ll pass as normal faeries. We’re also masking your power, you’re welcome,” Wooyoung saluted and laughed when Gaeul visibly relaxed. He hopped out of the carriage first, offering Gaeul his hand which she took to jump down on wobbly legs, holding her shawl tighter as the strong wind- the characteristic of Ascella- blew her hair.

“Home,” Gaeul whispered. “Smells like home.”

“Who, me?” Wooyoung teased and Gaeul rolled her eyes so hard she felt a sudden throb in her head. Wooyoung laughed, telling her he was joking and Gaeul said she was sure he was. 

“Though, technically, if my territory smells like ‘home’,” Wooyoung said as they walked, the rest falling behind, “I must also smell like home-”

“You smell like bad jokes and arrogance,” Gaeul muttered and Wooyoung laughed harder.

“You know what? I like you. You’ll get along with Mingi and Yeosang well- they share just your type of humour. All sarcasm and stabs.”

“Really?” Gaeul was suddenly interested- she hadn’t really interacted with those two much. “Mingi looks like he’s scared of me though.”

“He’s not scared of you, per se,” Wooyoung corrected, shouting a thank you at Jongho who was making the grass and plants come back to life after years of being untended. “Just like San can feel you, he can feel your magic as if it’s an entity.”

“Wow,” Gaeul turned to look at the tall male who looked so carefree in that moment. “Has he always…? Isn’t that hard?”

“He couldn’t always,” Wooyoung sighed. “But anyways, fear not. He can incinerate you in a millisecond anyway, so he’s got nothing to be scared of. You can approach him and talk to him if you want- he’s not the one to make the first move, by the way.”

Gaeul, however, almost fell when she heard that. Millisecond? Gaeul gulped. “Thanks, Wooyoung. I feel so much better now that I know he can end my existence with a mere thought.”

“I can too, just so you know,” he was smirking and Gaeul paled further, smacking him on his arm when he laughed. “I’m not going to- unless… it calls for it, but we’re friends, right?”

“Where’s San again?” Gaeul looked back, leaving Wooyoung howling like a hyena. She spotted San, a good few steps behind them. “San! Wooyoung’s scaring me!”

San saluted as he jogged to them and Wooyoung put an arm around Gaeul’s shoulder, whispering something in her ear that made her stop in her steps. San frowned, smacking Wooyoung’s head. “What bullshit are you feeding her?”

“Nothing,” Wooyoung shrugged, the smirk still plastered on his face. “Just make sure she’s not feeling sick after knowing she only needs to call you if she wants to die the scariest death-”

“Why would you say that!” San yelled, laughing in disbelief and holding Gaeul’s hand to make sure she was okay. “I don’t practise that method, it’s just a theory-”

“That has been proven to be right,” Wooyoung pointed out. “Come on. It’s cool, isn’t it?”

“That he can bury me alive?” Gaeul sighed, squeezing San’s hand. “Very cool.”

“Just so you know, Wooyoung,” San poked his arm, “Gaeul can make you die the most painful death. So think about this little death ranking again and revise your list- it looks like it needs some changes.”

“Oh, I totally forgot,” Gaeul stood straighter. “Maybe I should start practising torturing methods soon-”

“Hey!” Wooyoung yelled. “I was joking, okay! No need to go all anti-magic on me!” 

San and Gaeul laughed as they finally came to the porch after walking the long path from the gate through the garden. Wooyoung took out a key from his pocket after a minute of fumbling nervously, sighing in relief that he hadn’t misplaced it. Unlocking the door, he asked them to pause before he went inside first, cleaning the air and checking for threats in seconds- it truly impressed Gaeul, the power and control all the Princes had. 

“Come in,” He bowed, and everyone entered, Hongjoong scolding Wooyoung to stop being so dramatic. 

“Welcome to the Jung Residence,” Wooyoung led them to the living room while everyone looked around- it was cosy, to put it simply. The earth tones of the interior made everyone feel warm instantly. Mingi patted Gaeul’s shoulder and pointed at the fireplace, lighting up a fire that was warm enough for Gaeul but cool enough for the others present. Gaeul smiled widely, thanking him and Mingi shook it off as nothing.

“Should I get us some food?” Yena asked and the rest paused in confusion. “I might have asked my chefs to prepare some because I knew none of you blockheads would have remembered.”

Everyone clapped both sarcastically and out of pure gratitude at her thoughtfulness, and Yena gave them all a glare, opening a portal to what Gaeul presumed could only be her kitchen, gasping and watching with a wide mouth as Yena stood in the middle of the two rooms, taking food from the staff and passing it to Seonghwa who set it all on the table. Gaeul looked at the rest- they seemed pretty used to it now. 

“How can one person just be standing… in two different places at the same time?” Gaeul asked no one in particular and Yeosang, who was nearby, chuckled. 

“Only Yena, it seems.”

“Do you guys often do this? Does Yena visit like this?”

“Pretty convenient, isn’t it?” Yeosang asked and she nodded. “Still, the little brat doesn’t visit as often as she could.”

“I run two castles, in case you forgot,” Yena shut the portal.

“Technically, you run none of them-”

Yena gasped while the room boomed with laughter. “The audacity!”

“I mean,” Yeosang laughed, “Seonghwa runs his kingdom fine without your help, and your kingdom… Taeyong has been complaining-”

“I’ll see to it that he never opens his mouth again,” Yena smiled sweetly, a fire behind her eyes and Yeosang shook his hands furiously, doubling up with laughter. 

“I’m only joking- don’t give the poor soul more trouble to deal with than he already has-”

“Yeosang, you little-” Yena ran for Yeosang and the two ended up running around the house, Yena making Yeosang trip and Yeosang making Yena bump into things she couldn’t see. Gaeul, thoroughly amused, looked at Seonghwa. He seemed unfazed by all of this. He caught Gaeul looking. 

“Oh, don’t mind the two. The personal attacks and the careless fighting will never end- not even when they’re old and wrinkly.”

“Good to hear,” Gaeul shared a grin. 

“Stop it, you two!” Seonghwa clapped. “Get to the table, right now, or else I’ll make sure you two have a good night’s sleep-”

“Okay, okay!” The two said simultaneously, immediately sobering up and sitting side by side by the table, elbowing each other. Everyone gathered around while Jongho passed bowls of rice. Thus began a dinner of various dishes, as rich in taste as the food Gaeul had so far at Wooyoung’s palace. 

After small talk while they focused on eating, Yunho asked Gaeul if there was anyone in Ascella she would like to meet.

“I’m not so sure anyone would be pleased to see me- especially in my current condition,” Gaeul pursed her lips. “I would like to avoid them altogether, but they’re also the people who can help us know more about my bloodline… if they cooperate.”

“Oh, they will,” Hongjoong was sure and Gaeul had no doubt they would- they couldn’t deny anyone in this room other than her. “Are there other people from the yin-yang bloodline residing in Ascella?”

“Only my family here, there are more in the Kingdom of Cancer and Libra for obvious reasons,” Gaeul looked at San and Jongho. “We didn’t move because we got too attached to the beach.”

“Rightly so,” Wooyoung nodded. “It’s beautiful there.”

“It really is,” Gaeul’s smile was sad.

“Do you miss living there?” Mingi asked.

“It’s the only thing I miss about my life- other than my magic,” Gaeul admitted. “I’ve lived by the sea my entire life, watched it glitter a beautiful green and then mix with the purple glow of the night. It’s… a part of me. And I like the sea anyway, so…” Gaeul looked at Yunho.

“She might have a little affinity for water, by the way,” Yunho commented, “Or at least, had. I don’t know what’s become of it now.”

Hongjoong almost dropped his bowl of ice cream. “What do you mean she had water affinity? Why am I hearing about this now?”

“Uh, it’s only a theory- no way to confirm it now,” Yunho raised his hand in surrender. “Don’t even ask me- I’ve been too out of it ever since we started travelling.”

Hongjoong looked at Gaeul for an explanation. “I might have had. I could raise a few drops of water in the air if I tried hard enough- it could be air magic too, couldn’t it?”

“It could,” Wooyoung nodded. “But… chances are it was water. You don’t look like an air kind of person.”

Gaeul made a face before she returned to Hongjoong. “I never got to discover it, much less master it. It’s gone, right?”

“Let’s see,” Hongjoong placed his bowl on the table, folding his arms as he thought. “Your nature magic turned opposite, as did your earth magic, which are kind of similar so it’s basically one at this point. Now what could become of water if it turned like your magic did?”

“See? I gave up after that,” Yunho laughed helplessly. “What’s the opposite of water?”

“Ice?” Seonghwa suggested. “Though it’s not exactly the opposite if we talk about magic…”

“Land? But then it’s earth and she already had earth magic,” Jongho shrugged.

“Uh…” Wooyoung had paled- it was a first for Gaeul. “Don’t you guys remember seeing snow among the ashes when Gaeul’s magic exploded? San? Jongho?”

The two frowned, looking at each other. “I thought it was… cold ash.”

Yeosang snorted at San who slapped his thigh but Jongho nodded. “I didn’t think it was ice. It didn’t exactly feel like ice.”

“See?” San pointed at Jongho. “You’re dumb, Wooyoung.”

“Wait-” Mingi caught their attention. “Ice and ashes together? In one place? Ashes as in… like the one after something burns, right?”

Everyone shut up after that and Gaeul squirmed as they all stole glances. “Opposite of water… fire, perhaps?”

“Have any of you heard about cold fire?” Mingi asked and Hongjoong looked ready to cry. “I wish I’m wrong about this because cold fire is a magic that exists in theory among fire users- kept from ice users as well, since they like to create mischief anyway. My father was working on that theory before he passed away- he wanted to see if cold fire could really exist.”

“But… we only have a few ashes and snow to support this theory, so let’s not get our panties in a twist, right?” Yena looked at everyone. “No point worrying about something that couldn’t be. Not saying it isn’t plausible, but let’s just focus on what we came here for- we’ll have plenty of time after to worry about snow and ashes later, okay?”

Everyone nodded, though silent as they processed what it could mean. Yeosang, who was sitting beside Gaeul, leaned in a little as he said, “You could be an ice princess. I’ve always wanted to be one.”

“What, a princess?” Gaeul teased and he snorted. “What’s stopping you now?”

“Yena took all the limelight before I could manifest it into existence,” Yeosang pouted.

“You really want to be a princess so bad?” Yena scoffed. “Go ahead. Maybe I should send you to one of the parallel universes where you’re a Princess and I’m… a Prince.”

The rest laughed at that. “Princess Yeosang of Spirit,” Wooyoung clapped. “I like the sound of it.”

“Alright, that’s enough now,” Hongjoong gathered everyone’s attention, smiling at their jokes to Gaeul’s relief- she really did not like a serious Hongjoong. “Let’s go to sleep. We will get up early tomorrow.”

“There are 5 rooms, so I guess we’re pairing up for rooms-” Wooyoung announced and was immediately interrupted by Yunho and Mingi calling dibs on being roommates, followed by Wooyoung himself going for Yeosang who pretended to run away but then gave in. Seonghwa and Yena- no one bothered to separate the couple, but Yena looked at Gaeul- they were the only women in the crowd of men and she wasn’t sure if Gaeul wanted to tag with her. 

Gaeul looked back at Yena, more nervous than ever, but Hongjoong muttered something to San at which he nodded, looking at Gaeul and her stomach swooped dangerously.

“I guess we’re roommates- you’re still sick and I need to make sure you’ll be okay while you sleep,” San said and Gaeul pursed her lips, nodding. “But if you’re not comfortable, we can do something about it-”

“It’s- it’s okay,” Gaeul realised she had interrupted a bit too soon but thankfully, only Wooyoung and San seemed to realise- or if the others did, they weren’t smirking shamelessly like the little brat. “I don’t think I’ll get any sleep anyway.”

Wooyoung put a hand on his mouth and finally earned a hard slap on his head from Yeosang. “Get your head out of the gutter.”

Gaeul couldn’t help it as she giggled, making everyone laugh as well- it looked like everyone had some sort of clue about how San and Gaeul had something different going on. Hongjoong cleared his throat. “Well then. If we’re done fooling around, let’s try to get some rest. This house is magically warded, right? We don’t need to worry about the night watch. Tomorrow is going to be a… busy and difficult day.”

—----------------

“I’ll… sleep on the couch?” 

There it was. Gaeul had said the most cheesy, most overused line ever. At times, she wished she had read less romance books because it was obvious she got some of her cheesiness from there. 

“Gaeul,” San rolled his eyes though his grin got wider. “Let’s not be weird about this. You know I need to hold you to keep you and everyone safe- your magic has been restless ever since we arrived in Ascella.”

Gaeul bit her lips- the two of them had gone to their room at the end of the hallway about half an hour ago and changed into pyjamas- San’s plain black ones and Gaeul’s plain emerald. Gaeul only fidgeted while San washed up, looking around the room which only had necessary furniture,including a queen sized bed along with a few tables and a couch. 

And now that Gaeul was back after washing up, a towel on her head as water slowly dripped, she bit her lips as she stared at the bed as if she could burn it, and then at San who was clearly enjoying this. He chuckled helplessly, getting up. 

“When you’re nervous like this,” he paused in front of her, picking the towel and throwing it on the couch, drying her hair and her wet shirt with a swipe of his hand. “It’s cute.”

“Shut up,” Gaeul scoffed, trying to hide her smile but failing as she pushed him, going to her side of the bed. San drew the curtains, leaving them a fraction apart for the faint light to fill the room. Gaeul could feel him as he made his way onto his side of the bed, drawing the covers over the both of them. 

“Can I ask you one thing?”

Gaeul looked at San- they could see each other in the faint light well. She nodded and San continued. “Would you have been this nervous if it was someone else tonight?”

San didn’t miss how Gaeul smiled at that. “You seemed pretty concerned about what I feel about others and you.”

“I am,” San rested his face on his hand, propping himself up on his elbow as he turned to face her. “I like to know what you think of me.”

“Well, Prince San of Earth,” Gaeul started and San chuckled deeply at how she always mocked him (jokingly, of course) with his title as she mirrored his position. “I think you care too much for me to pass it off as normal. I also think you’re flirting. Sometimes I think you enjoy confusing me, but sometimes…”

“Sometimes?” San wasn’t sure he was breathing anymore.

“Sometimes I think I’m delusional,” Gaeul simply said, turning and facing the wall instead of him- such dangerous lines they were treading on. She wasn’t sure it was right.

“Why would you think that?” San started to play with her, occasionally sending that mini-shock whenever he touched her head- Gaeul was pretty sure he did it more on purpose.

“What am I supposed to think when you do and say stuff like this?” Gaeul almost whispered. She wished she had a power like Yena so she could disappear- or maybe she should just cleave open the earth-

“Easy, easy,” San drew closer, holding her hand and sending his magic- he could feel how nervous she was. He grew worried- perhaps he had been pushing her too much- but when he tugged at her and watched her smiling at him… 

She liked it. And it drove him crazy.

“If you don’t like anything I do, you know you can tell me, right?” San was concerned. “I want you to tell me if I’m being too much-”

“No, no, you’re not,” Gaeul turned to face him now, her heart breaking a little at how worried he looked. “You’re… perfect, San. So perfect that sometimes, it annoys me, if I have to be honest.”

San laughed at that, more in relief. “That’s good to hear.”

“You can… keep doing whatever you think you’re doing,” Gaeul glanced at him. “I’m… okay with it. And don’t worry about it- I’ll let you know if you start to really annoy me.”

The two of them were grinning like kids as San absently caressed her hand. Gaeul was the first to give in, smacking his chest lightly. “Just stop looking at me like that, will you?”

“Does it make you nervous?” San laughed.

“Yes, it does!” Gaeul almost shouted, turning away in frustration. 

“Well, if you want me to do whatever I deem fit,” San said and Gaeul gasped when she felt his arms snake around her waist and pull her to him- her back now connected with his chest. He took that chance to snuggle his nose between her neck and shoulder, his nose and breath trickling her. “I think we should both be comfortable when we sleep.”

Gaeul sighed internally- wasn’t this dangerous for her magic? Why was her magic sleeping now? She shook her head at the thought, too aware of how relaxed, safe and… good she felt in his arms. He was practically hugging her. For a few moments, the two of them were quiet, just relishing how they could feel each other’s frantic heartbeats, how their bodies coursed with the tingling sensation. 

“Thought for a thought?” Gaeul asked.

San shifted a little, spooning her. “You first. No lies- I can smell them on you anyway.”

Who allowed him to say things like that-

“Well,” Gaeul exhaled. “I’m thinking I like whatever we have right now. I’m not sure I’d like to break this bond- whatever it is. I like what it does to me. I like you. But at the same time… I want to break this bond if only for the sake of clarity, because San… you confuse me even without the bond acting up. I want to break it because I don’t wish you to be associated with someone like me. I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want you to worry about me. I’m in a dilemma and I don’t know what to do.”

San’s grip around her waist tightening was the only indication that he was still awake. Gaeul caressed his hands, trailing her fingers with little breaks in between, feeling alive in that moment. San finally moved a little. 

“Look at me when I tell you my thoughts.”

Gaeul gulped, shifting in his arms. San made her use his arm as a pillow, his hand caressing her head while his other hand rested on her waist. His gaze could have melted her like wax and Gaeul was glad it was dark. 

“I’m thinking… that I’m falling, bond or no bond. I’m thinking that I’m the burden here. I’m thinking…” his hand trailed up her arm. “I’m thinking that I was destined to meet you because I’m not sure I could feel what I feel with you with anyone else. I’m thinking…” his fingers traced Gaeul’s cheekbones, resting there. “That no matter what happens tomorrow and in the future, I want to stick with you, through thick and thin. And I’m thinking…” San wiped the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes. “I’m thinking that you deserve an ordinary life and that I will hold you back from it. That I’m somehow involved in whatever happened with you, and you’re going to hate me when you find out. I don’t want you to run away from me or hate me, Gaeul.”

“I could never hate you,” Gaeul cautiously, hesitantly brought her hand to his face, running her fingers through his soft hair before tracing his cheekbone and then daring to run her thumb over his plump lower lip, earning a sharp intake of breath. “Why do we feel like this? Isn’t… liking each other supposed to be simple? What’s really holding us back?”

“Guilt,” San admitted, relishing the feel of her hand resting on his face, absently caressing his hair. “Regret. Fear.”

Gaeul understood- there was no guarantee what tomorrow held for them. She was a walking time bomb. As much as San wished things were simpler… he feared something irreversible would happen. “Well… after we find answers… will you still be there for me?”

“I will be right there, but I’m not sure you’ll like me very much after you find the answers.”

“You know something, don’t you?” Gaeul asked and San didn’t respond. “You must have a good enough reason that you’re staying quiet about it.”

“I’m not sure, which is why I’m quiet,” San looked like he was in pain. “But… I don’t know, Gaeul. I want it to be true as much as I want it to be false.”

“That makes… no sense,” Gaeul chuckled and San joined, sighing. 

“Let’s not talk anymore tonight,” San caressed her cheeks. “Let’s just… forget who we are. We’re only San and Gaeul tonight.”

“I was only Gaeul anyway, it’s you who has this big scary title with your name-”

“Hey,” San smiled, scanning her face as his gaze changed- Gaeul could practically feel it in the air as he gazed at her. “I’d kiss you right now if you let me.” 

San could feel her magic roil within her as he said that and he chuckled deeply, shaking his head. “I guess you want to kiss me too.”

“Wait till you do and find out you died,” Gaeul hid her face in San’s chest. “Not a good time, San. I don’t want to hurt you accidentally.”

“You won’t hurt me,” San tilted her chin up. “Not now, you won’t. And if you hate me after tomorrow… I want to kiss you once before that happens.”

“I told you, I could never hate you-” Gaeul paused as she realised he wasn’t even hearing her anymore, his gaze fixated on her lips. “San.”

To say that she was on fire was an understatement- this must be the cold fire Mingi was talking about- San’s touch both cooled her and set her ablaze. He drew close, planting a lingering kiss on her forehead, sighing heavily and Gaeul wondered just what he hid from her. Then he was kissing her eyelid and Gaeul practically groaned, fisting his shirt in her hands. 

“Tell me to stop and I will,” San trailed his lips down her face and Gaeul squirmed- she didn’t want him to stop. Never. At least not for the entirety of the night. 

“Tell me to stop,” San whispered again as he kissed her cheek, and Gaeul wasn’t sure he meant it like earlier- he wanted her to tell him to stop. 

“Don’t stop,” Gaeul managed to whisper. San opened his eyes, searching hers for a few moments, making sure she was okay before he leaned in and kissed her where they wanted it the most.

The touch of his lips on hers made them both sigh and it had them going on for more, San’s hand snaking behind her neck and Gaeul bringing him closer and on top of her so they could kiss better, ditching the simple pecks and going for open mouthed kisses because this feeling- this sensation-

They could never get enough of each other, they both realised with dread. But they kept going, San swallowing Gaeul’s moans as he kissed her again and again, never breaking apart, his hands squeezing where they held her at the neck and the waist- it wasn’t enough. He needed to hold her closer, needed to feel her body on his-

Gaeul felt the same- she was sure whatever they felt wasn’t normal and was heightened due to whatever reason she didn’t care for in the moment- she couldn’t hold him close enough. She cupped his face, running a hand through his hair and arching into the kiss when he made it deeper-

“San,” she moaned into the kiss, breaking apart for a moment to catch her breath but it hitched again when he started pecking her cheeks while she caught her breath. She brought him in for another kiss this time, their tongues colliding and exploring each other’s mouth, their hands a frantic mess as they trailed everywhere and anywhere, and San shifted on top of her, his leg going in the middle of her parted legs unconsciously-

He hadn’t even touched her. Only a brush of his knee on her inner thigh made her whimper into the kiss and San broke apart in confusion-

Only to see a flushed Gaeul, out of breath and so beautiful with her lips parted for him. His chest heaved with deep breaths, taking a moment to just look at her and tuck her hair back.

“Is it normal to- to feel everything so intensely?” Gaeul managed to ask, “Do you have any idea of what I’m feeling right now?”

San joined their foreheads, making her feel what he could feel as he pecked her lips- Gaeul was surprised once again by how San felt it perhaps twice more intensely than Gaeul. 

“Is this normal?”

“I’m not sure,” San whispered, “And right now… I couldn’t care less.”

Gaeul’s heart swooped dangerously. “So much for getting some sleep, huh?”

San chuckled, lying down and bringing her close, kissing her slowly this time, as if he really was going to spend all night doing that. And perhaps he would- but after a good few minutes of lazily kissing each other, San broke apart. “Shall we sleep now?”

Gaeul grinned sleepily, pecking his lips one last time. “Now we can.”

San hugged her and Gaeul settled into it, deciding she liked this position with their tangled limbs. The caressing of her head finally put her to a peaceful slumber, and for once, and perhaps what could be the last, San put aside his worries and welcomed sleep.

—-------------------

San couldn’t really sleep all night- not with the way Gaeul had her face hidden in his chest, holding on to his shirt- he loved it. He absolutely loved it but there was a feeling of dread within him, and it prevented him from falling into a deep sleep. And perhaps, because Gaeul was so tired, she slept better. 

An hour after dawn, San gave up trying to sleep. He carefully untangled himself from her, his heart breaking a little at how small, how fragile she looked right now. How defenceless. He covered her with a blanket and went to wash his face with cold water before going out and finding the roof, lying on the bench there and watching the cloudy sky.

He wondered if it was true- his theory about Gaeul. A bond that could survive death. A bond that might have brought her back from death, and something that didn’t change even after her magic and her whole life did.

The bond that soulmates shared. 

Soulmates, in the world of faeries, wasn’t like the concept humans had, though much of the misconception among the faeries currently was due to the similarity of the concepts and the literature. He remembered how his parents had told him that there are certain souls that are bound to be together- perhaps, in some place that all souls came from and go to after death, these souls are able to recognise each other.

San had once chatted with Seonghwa and found out that the eldest Prince did indeed know more about this concept. He believed that some souls are bound to like each other like some are bound to dislike- just like an instant ‘connection’ or spark people feel when they click with someone immediately, or the feeling of disdain they get when they don’t get along with a person no matter how much they try. Seonghwa also believed that soulmates came in various forms- friends, family, or romantic interests. In Seonghwa’s case, he believed Yena was his soulmate because even after Kieran had wiped Yena’s memories of Seonghwa, he couldn’t erase the love she had for him. And before that- Seonghwa falling in love with Yena was inevitable- he fell in love with her over and over again, even with the change in timelines. 

So in San’s case… he hadn’t really felt Gaeul before she died, and he wondered if Kieran had masked Gaeul’s magic when he killed her so San couldn’t feel her die if she really was his mate, but after she came back to life… he had been able to feel her- not her magic, but her. Her state of mind and heart. He had felt sick when she had been sick. And as soon as he saw her… he just knew something about her was different. The bond had physically tugged at his heart and he instantly knew this was the person he had been waiting for all his life. This was the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. 

But her anti-magic thing… it was trying to break the bond- he could feel that too, and perhaps Gaeul could feel it too. It was trying to erase any trace of Gaeul’s past. Perhaps because of her bloodline, she had been lucky and her bond was more powerful- after all, the yin-yang inheritors used their mates to fully master their powers. If San was her mate…

San sighed deeply, running his hands through his hair. He shouldn’t have kissed her and made her confused- he had been so, so incredibly selfish. They were going to find the truth soon, and if Gaeul and San really were soulmates, she would find herself in a bad place- she clearly disliked her magic right now. If she were to embrace her anti-magic, would it, perhaps, break the soulmate bond?

That’s the one thing that made San restless. She couldn’t live without embracing her magic. And if she did, there was a good chance their bond would break, since her magic was trying so hard to erase it anyway. He did not want the bond to break, but he thought that even if it did… he might love her anyway. He was already falling- bond or no bond.

He couldn’t say the same for Gaeul. And he wished he hadn’t confused her. He didn’t want her to give up trying to control the magic for this bond- or maybe… she didn’t care. Maybe she would choose living instead of dying painfully. Maybe San was thinking too highly of himself-

“You’re going to shake the whole damn planet if you glare at the sky any harder than this.”

San scoffed, getting up and patting the space next to him for Yunho to sit. “For someone who had been complaining so much about not getting enough rest, you’re up early.”

“For someone who can’t stay away from Gaeul, you’re up and alone early too,” Yunho commented, earning a smack on his arm. “Slept well?”

San rolled his eyes but Yunho caught his ears turning red. “Or maybe you didn’t get enough sleep-”

“Shut up,” San laughed, shaking his head. “Nothing happened. I just couldn’t sleep.”

“Nothing?” Yunho leaned in and wiggled his brows and San gave in, pushing his face away. 

“Okay, maybe a little something happened. Happy?”

“Then why are you sulking? I thought you liked her?”

“I do,” San admitted, “It’s just so complicated, Yunho. I don’t even know where to begin.”

“I guess we’ll know soon,” Yunho said and San looked at him.

“You’ve figured it out, haven’t you? Smartass.”

“I might have,” Yunho nodded, patting his back. “It must be hard for you, this whole… predicament. Does she know?”

“I don’t think she does,” San sighed. “It’s just… a theory, right? I know I overthink everything and might have made up fake scenarios to deal with every situation that might arise today, but… what are the chances that it’s not true?”

“If it’s not true, you have nothing to worry about,” Yunho thought about it and San realised he was right. “But if it’s true… isn’t there a chance that the bond might break since her magic is reversing?”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” San nodded, not surprised that Yunho had pieced it all together. 

“I’ll tell you something interesting,” Yunho shifted, facing San. “We were trying to examine all the black hole occurrences- it had left a trail. Do you know where it strayed from the pattern? Around your kingdom. The black hole- it must have circled the entire continent because of you- or at least something to do with your magic, we thought. There were more occurrences around your kingdom than the rest combined. It made me wonder…”

“If it was some bond that made it happen?” San finished and Yunho nodded.

“There definitely is something, seeing as you are immune to her magic and all,” Yunho concluded. “And it might be good. It might be bad. It might be what made Gaeul come back to life. When we find the answers… let’s not lose our calm, okay? We have to make sure Gaeul doesn’t take it badly because it wouldn’t end well for anyone.”

San nodded slowly and Yunho patted his shoulder. “There might be a way to make things right. Don’t overthink, and don’t give up either, okay? We’re with you.”

“She’s still so ready to give up living,” San bit his lips and Yunho understood this was what he was most worried about. “I fear it will become worse.”

“Would you want to live if you lost the one thing that kept you alive all these years? Your magic?”

San felt cold all over- Yunho was absolutely right. The relationship between a faerie and its magic went deeper than anything- it was a part of the soul. Losing one’s magic was unimaginable, and having your magic change into something that you hated? San could finally understand why Gaeul wasn’t so keen about living anymore. Why she was physically sick- perhaps even the thought of living with this magic made her sick. 

“Am I not allowed to help someone I care for?” San asked quietly. “Am I not allowed to help her find a reason to live?”

Yunho didn’t reply- he didn’t need to. San scoffed, looking up at the sky.

“I can’t force her to make the decision to live, can I? Bond or no bond.”

“I’m sorry, San,” Yunho sounded sad. “It’s her decision. We’ll try everything, but… in the end, it’s her decision.”

San wondered why it wasn’t raining- he wanted the skies to cry with him.

—-----------------

Gaeul woke up to an empty and cold bed- she wasn’t sure how much she had slept but she wasn’t tired- she felt fresh for once. She looked around, and the events of last night came crawling back in her mind-

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

“Tell me to stop.”

“Don’t stop.”

Gaeul covered her face with the blankets, letting herself feel giddy for a good few moments, kicking her legs as she laughed to herself. She couldn’t believe it- perhaps it had been a dream. 

But it wasn’t. She… San had kissed her. He said he was attracted to her. Her. 

Gaeul decided to freshen up, washing up a bit and looking at her face when she was done- she looked better than she ever had since she came back to life. Her cheeks were flushed with colour and she wasn’t pale anymore. Her eyes were twinkling. Gaeul smiled as she combed her hair- she couldn’t believe it. The Prince of Earth was attracted to her.

And it had something to do with this bond they shared, the pit in her heart tugged at her. Gaeul sighed- this wasn’t the time to be all giddy. She was going to learn the answers to why she was in this state. Everything was supposedly going to change and…

San thought she might hate him. Why would he think that? What did any of whatever she was going through have to do with San? She really couldn’t make the connection- and she wanted to ask someone- not San, he would never tell her unless he was sure.

Or maybe she should just be patient and wait. 

A knock sounded on the door and Gaeul watched San cautiously open the door and peek inside before relaxing and coming in, halting when he saw Gaeul on the dressing table, all ready and… 

So pretty his heart hurt. 

“You’re… awake.”

Gaeul gave him a tight-lipped smile, looking around nervously before going back to combing her hair, wondering what she should say. She turned and looked at him, “I-”

“Did you-”

The two of them paused, chuckling and Gaeul urged him to go first. San nodded, “Did you sleep well?”

“I did,” Gaeul smiled. “I was wondering if you did too.” She noticed San poke his tongue on the inside of his cheek. “For someone who was all about getting a good night’s sleep, you don’t look like you did.”

San raised a brow, pleased to see Gaeul was teasing him- it meant she was in a good mood. “I didn’t sleep well for some reason. I gave up trying at dawn.”

“Was it something I did-”

“Oh no, no, you were perfect-” San paused, scoffing when he saw her smirk. “Ah, it might have been all the snoring you did-”

“I do not snore!” Gaeul gasped and San laughed. 

“I just… I guess because it’s a new place, and I’m nervous and worried,” San rambled on, slumping down on the couch. “Stress kept me awake, you could say.”

Gaeul nodded slowly, scanning him. “Are we… going to talk about last night or pretend it didn’t happen?”

“What happened last night?” San tilted his head in confusion, earning a flying comb in his direction and Gaeul huffed as he laughed, starting to go out of the room when San grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her and she nearly slammed in his chest, looking at him with eyes wide in surprise. 

“As much as I’d like to remind you again, maybe with a reenactment,” San licked his lips as his gaze fell on hers, “I think it’d be better if we put it aside until all our confusions are cleared.”

Gaeul rolled her eyes but nodded, and San’s gaze softened as he said, “I’m sorry about last night- I might have been too pushy-”

“Not at all,” Gaeul interrupted, bringing her hand to caress his cheek before she rose to her tiptoes and pecked his cheek. “We’re still the same, okay? San and Gaeul- or rather, San with his scary title and ordinary Gaeul-”

San laughed, shaking his head at her when she grinned. He spread his arms and Gaeul readily hugged him, wrapping her arms around his torso and he held her head to him as he swayed. “Thank you for understanding. Really, thank you.”

“It’s okay, San,” Gaeul said, not breaking the hug. “I know you’re confused. I am too. But whatever happened, we’re still the same, okay? I’m still going to tease you to death and I’d like it if you still shamelessly flirted and teased me like you used to- I don’t want you to suddenly draw away, because I know you’re the type of person who will. Just be… the same for me, will you?”

San nodded in the hug, letting go and patting her head. “You look really good, by the way. Alive, even.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard,” Gaeul laughed. “Just say it. Say that I look less like a zombie.”

“I’d say that, but you’d smack me- ow!” San rubbed his arm where Gaeul had practically punched him. “I can never understand how a tiny thing like you still has so much force in her.”

Gaeul ignored him, grinning as she motioned that she was going out. In the kitchen, she found Wooyoung, of all people, leading the others to cook their breakfast. Gaeul sat on a stool, resting her face on her hands, elbows propped on the table as she watched him expertly slice, cut and throw vegetables in what looked like a stew. Wooyoung noticed her, winking at her and purposely showing off as he put in the spices-

“You’re turning me off now,” Gaeul sighed when he sprinkled the salt in a rather weird way and Wooyoung laughed his famous hyena laugh.

“I’m still doing good, right? I look good in the kitchen, don’t I?”

Gaeul pretended to throw up but nodded- she had to acknowledge it. “I wonder why you like cooking- I didn’t picture you as someone who could actually even hold a knife.”

“Obviously, to woo,” Jongho sighed and Gaeul snorted. “But he’s the best cook out of us all.”

“I wonder who’s the worst,” Gaeul said but when everyone looked at her, she gasped. “Hongjoong?”

“Who else could it be?” Seonghwa laughed. “You’re quick, Gaeul.”

“Pretty obvious when you all looked at me like that,” Gaeul laughed. “Good to know Hongjoong’s not good at everything.”

“I am.” Wooyoung put the dish in the middle of the table, clapping loudly twice. “Everyone? Breakfast!”

Gaeul ate silently while the rest of them chattered away, more amused to see everyone interact. She was positive she wouldn’t find anything more amusing than the 9 of them bickering like kids and not letting anyone complete one single sentence-

“Pass me the-”

“Hey, you remember when we went to Mingi’s place-”

“Don’t push me!”

“I wanna go to the beach to swim…”

“Ugh, I’m so tired, shut up-”

Gaeul tuned them out, stifling her smile as she finished eating. She couldn’t help but wonder if this was the last normal moment she was going to have with everyone. She watched all of them eat and make small talk, imprinting it in her memory in case she’d never have a memory like this again. 

However, she didn’t remain in a good mood for long. As soon as they reached the beach and she spotted the familiar faces of her neighbours and family, she immediately cowered back, bumping into Yena and practically hiding behind her.

“What’s wrong? You know these people?”

“I know everyone who lives on the outskirts of the beach- we were a small community. And… everyone knew me too. They’re going to be… concerned.”

“Concerned? The bad kind?”

“The bad kind,” you confirmed. “Maybe all of us shouldn’t go…”

“You’re right,” Yena nodded, turning to the rest of them who were busy admiring the clear sky and sea. Yena clapped to get their attention, and she scanned each of them before pointing at-

“Hongjoong, San and Wooyoung- and Jongho. You’re coming with us. The rest of you better lay low while we’re gone- we don’t want the whole town to know all of us are here.”

“Thank you,” Hongjoong groaned in relief, scowling at the rest for good measure. “I better not hear town gossip when I come out.”

“You’re taking Hongjoong when he looks like this?” Jongho scoffed.

“Hey! What do you mean by that!”

“You just stand out too much,” he dismissed him and Gaeul grinned- Hongjoong really did- and it was not his appearance to blame, he just had a certain… aura to him. A certain sass that only he possessed. Gaeul had no other way to explain it.

“Lead the way,” Hongjoong urged her and Gaeul gulped before doing exactly that, Yena by her side. 

“Let me know if you feel… jumpy or anything,” San said.

Gaeul led the five along the beach, some of the people spotting her but not really recognising her- or anyone else. Their powers were well masked so Gaeul was sure they couldn’t really feel anything from the six of them, which, in her opinion, was more suspicious if someone realised they really were feeling no inkling of any magic from them. She finally spotted the familiar face of her uncle outside the house she had lived in all her life and she paused- he looked and felt the same and yet… she felt a bit scared.

Her uncle paused fixing the window when he noticed them staring at him. He turned and scanned each of them, almost not recognising Gaeul but then he frowned.

“Gaeul?” 

His voice was still the same, with a stern tone to it. Gaeul felt her heart sink- she nodded and he stepped forward but then paused, taking in her companions again. “Where have you been? We thought something happened to you- you never returned.”

“I just…” Gaeul started but then paused- what should she tell him?

“Your niece was in an accident, which caused some memory problems- she couldn’t recall her name for the longest time either,” Yena began and Gaeul relaxed- thank goodness. “We’re her… friends. Maybe we should take this inside- we need to talk about a few things.”

“Alright,” he nodded, a bit shaken because he really hadn’t expected Gaeul to pop back up out of nowhere. He led them inside and Gaeul inhaled the familiar scent of coconut that was the staple of this house. Once they were settled in the living room, the man stood awkwardly, scanning them again. He looked at Gaeul, “Do you want me to call your aunt? She’s in the backyard.”

“Uh, maybe after we talk?” Gaeul said hesitantly and he sat. 

“I’m sorry, I just-” he rubbed his face. “I thought you ran away- you never seemed very happy here, especially after my brother passed away,” he was referring to her father. Gaeul nodded in understanding and he continued. “I believed something must have happened to you- you weren’t the type to just disappear, and you still had work here- you never left your business unfinished.”

“Did you look for me?” Gaeul asked hesitantly.

“We did- my son and I,” he nodded. “We took the path you took but lost your trace altogether in the middle of Nunki. I thought it was very strange and after a while, I just gave up, wondering how I would face my brother.”

“I’m sorry,” Gaeul bit the inside of her cheek- she knew her uncle cared- not much, but in his way, he did. “I lost my memory, just started regaining it recently and decided to come back. And… I have a problem with my magic too.”

“You do look different,” he scanned her- she still had the same dark hair like his, but her eyes- they were never so light. “What’s wrong?”

“We can’t exactly tell you what is wrong with her magic,” Wooyoung began and her uncle looked suspiciously at him. “We just need to ask a few questions about the magic that your bloodline possesses. The yin-yang magic, and how it interferes with the natural flow of magic.”

“And who might you be?” He narrowed his eyes. “Are you from the yin-yang bloodline? Or did Gaeul tell all these secrets to you?”

Gaeul sighed internally- he was still the same, alright. Wooyoung smirked almost dangerously, unmasking his magic for just a second but it made her uncle gasp despite his usual stiff demeanour. “I think you recognise me, sir.”

The old man looked from Wooyoung to Gaeul and back. Then he looked at Gaeul. “Don’t tell me this is who I think he is.”

“He is,” Gaeul nodded and he paled. “The Prince has helped me a lot- because my magic hasn’t been very stable.”

“I apologise… Your Highness,” Gaeul watched her uncle get up and deeply bow. “I’m sorry for the trouble my niece must have caused for you to come here yourself-”

“Your niece isn’t responsible for that,” Wooyoung urged him to sit and Gaeul stifled a smile- she was amused with the way Wooyoung was clearly going to use his authority to get the answers. “Beside me is the Prince of Nature himself- I think he’ll do a better job at asking the questions of this magical bloodline you possess. I’d appreciate it if you answer truthfully and don’t leave anything out.”

Her uncle bowed to Jongho who had raised his hand to let him know he was the one. He rose up. “Should I get you all something? You must have travelled a long way.”

Wooyoung and Jongho looked at each other. Jongho nodded, “It’s going to take some time, so tea would be nice.”

He rushed to the backyard, probably to let his wife know just who was here. Gaeul pursed her lips as she looked at the rest of them and San, who was sitting beside her, scoffed. “You look like you’re enjoying this.”

“I just- I can imagine what must be going on in the backyard,” she smiled- they must be panicking right now. “Can the rest of you pretend that you’re normal? I don’t think he’ll take it well.”

“Of course, unless it’s absolutely necessary,” Hongjoong nodded. “I prefer to lay low anyway.”

“We look pretty normal, San and I,” Yena laughed. “Hongjoong though… I’m pretty sure the man’s suspicious of you, not us.”

“None of you look normal,” she told them and before they could protest, her uncle was back and took his seat. He looked at Jongho and asked him what he would like to know.

“Do you know how many generations the bloodline has been running in your family?”

“We’re… the original bloodline- if you can call it that,” he said and Gaeul raised a brow- she didn’t know this. “We’re descendants of the first Prince of Nature himself- that’s why we call ourselves the original bloodline- there are others, of course, but our generation had it different.”

“That’s…” Jongho looked at Gaeul. “We’re descendants of the same person then, aren’t we? But hasn’t every descendant of the first Prince been a royal?”

Gaeul looked in disbelief at Hongjoong, equally in disbelief, if not more. Her uncle cleared his throat. “Not everyone liked being royal, it seems. The first Prince had the yin-yang element- he was born with it. In that sense, it was a part of his magic. He had two sons, but only one of them inherited the element- his son did not like what his family wanted to do with this magic and how they wanted to wield it as a weapon- you know how the situation on planet earth with humans and darklings wasn’t ideal back then. He gave up his royal title and disappeared.”

“Why do I not know of the history? Has it been kept hidden from the royals on purpose?”

“At first, probably,” Gaeul’s uncle nodded, “but now we just keep it a secret from the whole world, and I’m sure most of the royals now do not know about this magic.”

Jongho nodded- it made sense. He had only heard his parents talk about this once, and that was it. Even Hongjoong couldn’t find any records- a secret kept well-hidden. Dangerous. “You called yourself the original bloodline- but isn’t anyone possessing the yin-yang element an original?”

“We are pure, is what’s the better term, though we don’t use it,” he shifted in his seat. “Our bloodline has never had a human touch- we kept it strictly within faeries. The other bloodlines have all mingled with humans, and some with darklings. A faerie’s soulmate can only be a faerie, but not everyone finds their soulmate- it’s considered a myth now. Our bloodline… it has gone to great lengths to preserve the powers- going as far as to travelling the whole planet for their soulmate to keep it ‘pure’.”

“Wow, that’s…” Yena looked at Hongjoong. “You’ve taken great measures. Do you possess this element too?” He nodded and Yena continued, “Did you meet your soulmate?”

“I was lucky to find her so near me,” he admitted, and on cue, Gaeul’s aunt came, her blonde hair longer than she had ever seen on her. She set a tray of juices and tea on the table, bowing to all of them- then she rose up and beckoned her niece forward. Gaeul smiled before she went and hugged her. She had never known she was her uncle’s soulmate.

“It’s really good to see you alive and well,” she squeezed her shoulders and Gaeul nodded.

“I hope you have been well, aunt,” she meant it. She nodded and glanced at her guests once before urging Gaeul to sit and left. Gaeul took the glass of mint juice- it was always one of her favourite things her aunt made, and she was good in the kitchen. When she settled down, it was San who spoke.

“Did your bloodline focus on soulmates for the sole purpose of extending their powers?”

“Soulmates, in general, are a blessing,” he said and everyone nodded. “Though today, they are considered to be myths. Some people meet each other without knowing they are mates, simply believing that they just get along really well and… vibe with each other, as you youngsters call it now,” he said and everyone chuckled at that. “It doesn’t necessarily have to be a romantic partner, they say, but with us… in our history, it’s always been that. That’s what makes us different- we literally find our other half, and our magic doesn’t feel complete without meeting them. For the rest of you, a soulmate can be a sibling, a friend, but for the yin-yang bloodline specifically, it’s this.”

Everyone sipped on their drinks as they let the information sink in. Gaeul wished she had known these things earlier- clearly even Jongho or Hongjoong didn’t know these details. Wooyoung leaned forward, glancing at San once before asking, “How do you know someone is your soulmate, in your case?”

Gaeul’s uncle glanced at her, wondering if she had perhaps found the one. None of them missed the look- not even Gaeul herself. He looked back at Wooyoung. “Soulmates… you feel them before you even look at them. Everything is heightened with them- their touch, even a brush of their fingers make you shiver. Their voice is so compelling you feel as if it’s reverberating in your skull. And when you finally let your magic connect with theirs, you find a certain… sense of peace, if that makes sense-”

Wooyoung felt it then- Gaeul’s magic. She had paled visibly after hearing him and not even the Prince’s magic masking her magic was enough now. He watched Gaeul look helplessly around, wondering if anyone else had made the connection as well, but everyone was looking at her in… understanding. It looked like she was the last to know. 

How could she have not made the connection? She looked at San who sat emotionless beside her, probably stifling them to not let her uncle make the connection. He tried holding her hand- tell her it was okay, but she flinched away and hurt flashed in his eyes. Gaeul looked at her uncle, her eyes steel. “How powerful is this bond? Please be honest with me- just what is the extent of this bond?”

Her uncle looked at Jongho- there was obviously something he was hesitant to share. Jongho looked at San and Gaeul, “I think you should take her outside for now. Gaeul… I don’t think you should be here right now.”

He was talking about her magic getting out of control and Gaeul almost rushed outside. Yena tried to follow but Hongjoong stopped her- now was not the time. San stood but paused, looking at Jongho. “I think I should hear what he has to say.”

“I’ll let you know, I promise,” Jongho nodded, looking queasy. “Just go after her before something happens.”

San nodded and did exactly that, leaving the four of them inside. Jongho said, “You can tell us. That’s the Prince of Light and Princess of Space with us- your secrets are safe. We only need to understand because we suspect someone might have known your secrets and exploited Gaeul’s magic.”

The man paled- he really hadn’t expected half the royals in his room. San- that had to be Prince San of Earth as well. He almost got up again but Hongjoong urged him to keep sitting, and he settled with a nod of his head to the two. “I’m sorry but… that’s impossible. Even my wife doesn’t know the extent of this power, and she’s my soulmate. We keep this secret to ourselves, only telling those who inherit it at the right time. No one could have known- everyone with this magic has always understood the gravity of it.”

“We understand, but there’s always someone with loose lips,” Hongjoong sighed. “And… I bet you’re not immune to the magic of illusion or the magic that wrings the truth out of you,” he said and the old man sighed. It seemed Hongjoong was right. “Let us know everything.”

—-----------------

Gaeul couldn’t hear the waves of the sea crashing at the sand.

She couldn’t even feel her feet get wet as she walked along the shore.

Soulmate. That’s what San was. Her soulmate, and she didn’t know. Or she did, but wasn’t aware.

She had felt San before she had seen him, that night he had arrived in Rukbat. She had immediately been drawn to him. His touch… the way it messed with her new magic, the way it was a drug that was both keeping her alive and killing her-

Why had the darkling killed her? Had he known too? How? Why was she the only person who did not know? 

San thought she would hate him after knowing the truth- he knew. She hated the fact that he knew and didn’t tell her- but then… would it have made a difference? 

Gaeul found herself going to the caves where she hid whenever she felt overwhelmed. She marched towards the cave, climbing the rocks and scratching her hands in the process but not caring. She went inside one and made way to the little corner that she used to cry in as a kid and felt just like one as she brought her knees to her chest and buried her face in between.

She really would have liked to meet San under normal circumstances- her, with her nature magic, with her innocence. As a faerie- she wasn’t sure she was even that anymore.

She didn’t notice her breath quickening but soon she was sobbing as various thoughts attacked her- why did she come back to life? Why was the soulmate connection still alive? Had it perhaps brought her back? Was it the only thing keeping her alive then? Her magic was killing her- that was a fact, but something was also keeping her alive and if it was this bond… this was all so messed up.

“Gaeul.”

For a second she thought she had heard this voice in her head- she had, but San was here. And when she raised her head-

She almost screamed in surprise- the cave was covered in white… snow. Or ashes. 

Cold fire.

Gaeul put her head back, slumping against the wall as she put a hand over her mouth and started crying again, this time because she was so, so done. One surprise after another. She couldn’t meet eyes with San who was standing cautiously near her.

“I’m sorry, Gaeul,” he sank down beside her, mirroring her position. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Gaeul wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but she couldn’t control her sobs at that moment. The ash started floating in the air, making San feel like he was inside a snow globe. It was both dangerous but beautiful- that’s what Gaeul was. San didn’t look at her as he said, “I wasn’t expecting it to be true, if you can believe me. I just thought it was unbelievable, and if it really was true, the thought that Kieran killed my soulmate… you have no idea how angry that makes me.”

Gaeul’s stomach swooped despite herself- she hadn’t expected this side of San, but she supposed he, too, had a right to be angry. 

“The fact that I didn’t feel you before, that makes sense, but I know I would have felt my soulmate… die. There’s no way I wouldn’t have- and I think that’s what’s so twisted about all that happened,” he let out a short laugh. “That Kieran must have somehow known and masked it with his magic. Truly the Prince of Illusions, that bastard was. I don’t know if he understood that you would come back, but if he didn’t… both of these thoughts make me want to go find him and bury him alive.”

“It’s… it’s not your fault,” Gaeul managed to say but his head was down as he shook it in denial. 

“That’s even sadder. That none of this is my fault, and none of this is your fault either,” San finally turned to her. “We just got involved in this mess. Gaeul… don’t let Kieran win with this.”

“I’m just so tired, San,” Gaeul wiped her face, extending her hand and watching what had to be ash fall on her hand- but cold like snow. “This mess of a reality that I have to live with… I don’t want to.”

“Not even when you have me?” San asked, his voice trembling. Gaeul finally glanced at him- if she put herself in his shoes, she could tell why he was so vulnerable right now. 

“You don’t deserve to live with this either,” Gaeul smiled sadly. “I died. I shouldn’t have come back- and if I had known you before I died, I would have wanted you to move on and live a happy life.”

“That’s kind of funny,” San scoffed and Gaeul raised a brow- San was getting angry now. “Do you think you could have moved on and lived happily if I died?”

Could she have, if her soulmate died? Of course not. And that fact made tears roll down her face again. She looked away, biting her nails nervously as she tried to sort it out and control the raging explosion of magic that was making way up her throat.

“Look at me, Gaeul,” San must have felt it too because he took her hands and made her face him. “You can ignore this bond. You have every right to do so. Just don’t give up on your life- that’s the least you can do for me, understand?” He wasn’t asking at this point, he was ordering. “You have died once- you don’t need to kill yourself because of that worthless piece of trash. You have to live on. You will learn about your magic, you will master it, and you will live, Gaeul. You will be strong, and you will win, you hear me?”

“How can I ignore this bond when it’s you?” Gaeul almost whispered and his heart sank. “You’re my soulmate- I think deep down, I knew. How can I live if not with you by my side? How can I simply ignore you when you’re keeping me alive and also giving me a reason to live?”

San didn’t hold back the tears that slid down his face, he simply looked down at their interlocked hands. Gaeul sniffed. “You- I know it’s the bond that brought me back to life. There’s no other explanation, is there?” San nodded and she continued. “You gave me a new life then. I can’t simply waste it. My magic is trying to kill me and this bond, you are the only thing keeping me alive. The two… they are clashing within me. Kill the bond and I might be able to live with my magic. Make my magic stronger… and it might kill the bond. That’s what it’s going to come down to, isn’t it?”

“I’m sure there’s a way,” San sniffed and looked up- he was determined. “We just need to find the balance in all of this.”

“The balance in the chaos- is there ever such a thing?” Gaeul smiled sadly. “Do you love me, San?”

San hadn’t expected her to ask this but he nodded. “I do. Before I knew about the bond, I did.”

“And that’s why I don’t want you to go through this again,” she caressed his hands. “Because I love you. Because you shouldn’t have to go through the pain that’s going to come with being with me. Because if I can’t take this and I die again, this time for good… I don’t want you to be sad. I wish I could make you forget about me.”

“Don’t even think about it,” San squeezed her hands. “I’m supposed to lessen your pain. I’m supposed to share your burden. I wish you could let me do that, at least. I know it’s all too much for you, but at least let me be there for you.”

Gaeul crawled into his arms and let him hold her as they both cried for what could have been a possible, normal future for the two, now stolen and filled with pain and misery. They cried for the other because none of them deserved this. They cried in fear of what the future held for them. San kissed her head repeatedly, hugging her so tightly as if he could make the pain go away, but he couldn’t take all of her pain. The ash circled and settled around the two- she was calm now. She had her arms wrapped around his waist, tears staining his shirt. She wished she could die right now, but she felt so alive when she was with him, like this. 

What a mess these two were.

—-------------------

Jongho, Wooyoung, Hongjoong and Yena stood at the shore, letting the waves crash at their feet as they processed just what they had talked about with Gaeul’s uncle, and how confusing all of it was.

“They are… soulmates,” Wooyoung was the first to break the silence, glancing at the rest who looked equally in disbelief even if they already had an inkling before. “San’s soulmate died and then came back. I’m so wrong for saying this, but I’m glad she’s alive- I don’t know how San would have lived with himself if he learned that his soulmate just… died.”

“I’m the last person who would say this, but I’m glad too- even if it is so dangerous,” Hongjoong nodded. “I can’t imagine the pain they must be feeling right now.”

The sea crashing harshly at their feet seemed to be the answer. They really couldn’t fathom it- but Yena looked like she was in pain- after all, her soulmate had died too before she got him back. She pursed her lips. “What should we do?”

“I don’t know,” Hongjoong sighed. “Keep her alive? Train her magic so she’s not a danger to the people around her?”

“I wish I could go back in time and make it alright for San,” Yena wiped her eyes and Jongho patted her back. “But… I don’t want to relive anything from those few months again.”

“Of course you don’t,” Wooyoung brought her in a side hug. “Nobody will ask that of you- not even San. We just need to… find a better way. Not everything can be solved by going back in time, and I’ll suggest we never do that again- look at the aftermath of it.”

“I feel like it’s my fault- I brought Seonghwa back, only for Gaeul to die-”

“No, it’s not that,” Hongjoong’s tone was final- he wasn’t going to have Yena doubting herself now. “The only thing that would make sense is that Kieran found out that Gaeul was San’s soulmate- he may have accidentally encountered her, or he could have sensed her. With you… we couldn’t sense the soulmate bond because your magic is stronger and masked it well, but Gaeul was just another faerie, and to have such a powerful soulmate- maybe it’s because she descended from the Prince of Nature himself that she could take it. Anyways, Kieran must have masked her powers when he killed her so San couldn’t feel it. That is the only possible explanation- there’s no way he knew she’d come back to life.”

“He’s right,” Jongho nodded. “Even we didn’t know that- and I don’t think a soulmate comes back to life just like that- that would make them infinitely immortal. I think it was the timing of it all and the yin-yang element that brought her back- she was very lucky- or unlucky. That’s it.”

“It’s all so messed up,” Wooyoung groaned. “Gaeul’s still standing at death’s door- I bet it’s the bond that’s keeping her alive in the first place. How do we get her to master all of that? How can we even help her when she has magic that has never been seen before?”

The sound of the seagulls and the waves grew louder as silence overtook before they heard the familiar steps of the rest of them. Yeosang was the first to ask how it went, but they all looked so grim that they decided to let them be for a moment. Yena went to Seonghwa, hugging him and crying because even though it wasn’t her fault that San and Gaeul were in this mess, she felt responsible.

“She’s not feeling very good right now,” Mingi shivered even though it wasn’t cold. “I think Gaeul’s cold fire magic has become dominant.”

Hongjoong sighed, asking them to wait for Gaeul and San before they could plan this further. After about an hour, they came back, hand in hand though the both of them looked very tired- cheeks hollowed and circles beneath their eyes. They really needed a break- but now was not the time. They decided to go back to the house and everyone sat in the living room, silent and either thinking or waiting to hear all of it while Hongjoong worked with Jongho to sketch out a plan. Wooyoung and Yena were in the kitchen, making tea and arranging some snacks to eat. Mingi and Yunho were discussing just which domain cold fire belonged to- ice, or fire. Seonghwa and Yeosang were cautiously glancing at San and Gaeul who sat side by side, each staring into the distance- they had never seen San sit so still for such a long time.

When Wooyoung and Yena finally settled and Hongjoong and Jongho finished, Hongjoong urged them to fill their stomachs before they lost their appetites.

“I might throw up anyway,” Gaeul shrugged and Hongjoong was pleased to see she was teasing- that was a good sign.

“I’d rather take that risk than remain with a grumbling stomach, so eat,” he ordered and Gaeul made a face before she drank a sip and took a cookie.

“Hongjoong,” Yunho smirked. “Cold fire- doesn’t it belong to the domain of ice? It literally looks like snow.”

“But that’s when it’s in the form of ashes, and ashes come from fire- besides, cold fire can also take the form of a normal fire instead of snowflake-like ashes,” Mingi challenged.

“Can cold fire burn?” Hongjoong asked and Mingi nodded. “Can it freeze you?”

“I think it can- we haven’t tested that out yet,” Mingi answered. Hongjoong sighed.

“Sorry to rain on your parade,” Hongjoong scoffed at the two, “but I think we might have a new element.”

Yunho gasped, slapping Mingi’s arm in disbelief. “We have something like Earth and Nature’s link then, don’t we? It could be the bridge to ice and fire.”

“That’s a very far-fetched idea,” Seonghwa commented. “We all have healing abilities, right? Does that make it a bridge to all of our magic?”

“That sounds stupid, Seonghwa,” Yeosang scoffed. “Even if you don’t have any elemental magic, you still have a little affinity for healing.”

“Shut up, all of you,” Hongjoong had finished his tea and started arranging his rough plan. “Here’s what we learned today.”

Hongjoong began with explaining the properties of the yin-yang element, all the things San and Gaeul had heard- he explained how it connected with their soulmate bond and how it might have brought her back but with consequences. 

“Fate works in twisted ways, but in the end, it always makes sense,” Hongjoong looked at San. “I think no one is to blame anyone for that- only Kieran, because he had this idea at the worst timing. Still, no point crying over spilt milk- we have to look forward to the future now, and how we’ll deal with this.

“We need to make Gaeul independent, first and foremost,” Hongjoong continued and Gaeul frowned in confusion. “Gaeul, you depend too much on San- it’s not normal. No pair of soulmates should have to depend on each other’s magic to live, do you understand what I’m saying?”

Gaeul nodded- she knew this was wrong. “It’s like a drug- I can’t help it. It’s both killing me and keeping me alive.”

“Exactly,” Hongjoong nodded. “You need to spend time away from San, in which you’ll have to master your magic- let yourself have control over it, not the other way around. To be away from San… you’ll have to train in another dimension- that way, your magic would not be able to sense him and act up. That would also be safer for all of us while you train with your magic.”

“It’s unavoidable,” San nodded in agreement, even though the thought of staying apart from Gaeul for a good amount of time made him shiver. “Which dimension exactly?”

“The one where time goes faster than here,” Yena smiled knowingly at San- she knew what he felt. “Only Gaeul would be experiencing the amount of time passed. For you… it shouldn’t be that long.”

“That’s sad,” Gaeul laughed as she looked at San and everyone joined, loosening up a bit. “Can’t we make it the other way around? I’d like for him to suffer with me.”

“You don’t want to come back to a wrinkly cranky old San, trust me on that one,” Yena laughed. 

“Alright, next…” Hongjoong changed the page. “Here’s what we know of Gaeul’s powers so far. Unhealing- nothing like natural death. That’s what became of her nature element, so anti-nature is about right. As far as her earth affinity is concerned… I’m still confused about that one, if I’m honest. How would earth magic reverse itself?”

“I think it was there in the first place because of San- isn’t that a plausible theory?” Yeosang mused and everyone nodded- it was. “Her soulmate bond is still in place- maybe her entire earth affinity ended up making sure the soulmate bond remains intact. Or maybe we’ll get a little surprise one day- though if I get one more, I’m positive I’ll pass away.”

“That does make sense,” Wooyoung slapped Yeosang’s head at the last unnecessary remark. “What else do we have?”

“Cold fire,” Gaeul looked at Yunho and Mingi. “Though so far, it’s only been in the form of snowy ashes. It could manifest in cool flame later on as well- probably a result of my water affinity, right?”

“Yes,” Hongjoong nodded, “Still something we’re not sure of, but there’s something else.” 

Everyone caught Hongjoong glancing at Jongho, Wooyoung and Yena- the ones who had heard it all. San tensed and Gaeul braced herself for what was about to come. San met eyes with Hongjoong and urged him to speak up.

“Uh, your uncle said that a lot of people have been going missing in Ascella too. There seems to be no specific victim pool yet- just faeries of any age or possessing a variety of powers. They’ve also mentioned an eerie feeling that something that’s not supposed to be here is now prowling this land. That means our theory might unfortunately be correct. There is a gateway, and there might be creatures. Gaeul might be connected to it, and if she is… she could be the means to either end this or worsen it.”

“That’s why I said I shouldn’t eat,” Gaeul rubbed a hand on her throat. “I could throw up right now.”

San put an arm around her. “Try to keep it in. We’re still not sure, right?”

“That’s right,” Hongjoong sighed. “We’ll look into it more tomorrow. Her magic is very dark in nature, I must say. Shall we call you… the Princess of the Underworld?”

Yeosang was the first one to clap while the others gaped at Hongjoong. “I say that sounds fitting. She practically came back to life- I bet with a little training she can even control the creatures if they exist. She might possibly even be the gateway to another dimension, though…'' The room fell silent and everyone paled, and even Yeosang shook his head furiously. “Let’s pretend I never said that. We have enough to worry about right now.”

“Let’s pretend it doesn’t exist, shall we? Let’s never test that theory,” Gaeul hid her face behind her knees. “Underworld, I understand, but Princess? That sounds too…”

“The first faeries that were born, each with an elemental magic, there were 9 of them,” Hongjoong smiled as he recalled the history. “They were called Princes and Princesses of their element for the sole reason that they were the first. After a few generations and mixed blood, we got a larger variety, but we,” Hongjoong motioned around the room, “continue to remain Prince and Princesses because we are direct descendants and hold the major elemental power. There has been no faerie with your magic, so I think a princess of your element sounds fitting- besides, you are a royal anyway.”

“She is?” Seonghwa gaped at them.

“I think I forgot to mention earlier,” Hongjoong laughed and Jongho nodded- they had forgotten. “But she’s the direct descendant of the first Prince of Nature, and their bloodline is purer- in the sense that they only mated with their soulmates- faeries. Purer than even Jongho’s.”

The four who hadn’t known of this burst in a chorus of disbelief and wonder. Gaeul hid behind San, overwhelmed by their outburst and the rest laughed. Jongho looked proud though. “She’s basically a very, very, distant relative of mine. She’s family.”

“But Jongho,” Yeosang looked confused. “You and San are distant cousins too. Does that make her San’s relative as well?”

Everyone burst into a fit of groans after that and Jongho, after he stopped laughing, said, “I think Gaeul and our families are separated by a whole lot of generations. In that sense, all of us are family- after all, there were only 9 of us in the beginning.”

“Let’s not make this more confusing than it has to be,” Hongjoong swatted the air. “Jongho and Gaeul are just more closely related than the rest of us- maybe even more than Jongho and San. Anyways, Princess of Underworld sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

“Sounds scary,” Mingi grinned. “Welcome to the royal gang, Gaeul.”

“This is so embarrassing,” Gaeul muttered and San chuckled, patting her arm as she hid behind him.

“Now… we only have to train her. I think Yunho and Mingi need to be there- cold fire is dangerous. Yena will be there to make sure the dimension stays intact and to take care of everything. As for the anti-nature…”

“I have no idea how to deal with it,” Jongho raised his hands in surrender. “I think someone with that magic specifically might be able to teach her better- and it is essential because she cannot go around with that magic out of control- it’s not only going to hurt others, it’ll hurt her too.”

“What do you suggest?” Seonghwa asked. “Is there a faerie here on this planet who might possibly possess something similar?”

“I’ve checked the archives, and there is none- the closest we have is what Jongho can do, and even that is different,” Hongjoong sighed and looked at Yena. “I think… we might need help from a darkling.”

There was a moment of silence before everyone burst into an argument about how unsafe it was, how Neve- the darkling Prince of Space and Spirit that had helped Yena- wasn’t that trustworthy and could manipulate them and take Gaeul or worse, use her. Yena had to shut them all up when she threw a pillow at Wooyoung, who was the loudest.

“Neve can be trusted- I can assure you of that,” Yena scowled at everyone who had a problem with that- including San. “It’s going to take some time and Yeosang’s help to contact him, but I’ll ask him if he thinks there is someone who can help. If there isn’t… we’ll have to make do with what we have. It is a matter of Gaeul’s life, and as someone who is partially responsible for the mess she is in, even though all of you refuse to admit that… I think I shall do this. For San- for someone who found me and the reason I am here with all of you.”

Seonghwa squeezed Yena’s hand, nodding at the rest. He also felt responsible- it was his death Yena tried to prevent for which she had to time travel, and which led to Kieran finding Gaeul. San looked like he could cry but he was shaking his head furiously. “I would never ask that of you, Yena. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I know you would never ask that of me, which is why I took the matter into my own hands,” Yena smiled pointedly at him. “It’s okay. Neve can be trusted- Mingi can attest to it. We’ll be fine- we could even get some answers from Kieran if we’re lucky.”

“Alright, that’s for later,” Hongjoong nodded and Yena sat down. “Now… I suggest we all take a day or two to breathe before we execute this plan. Seonghwa will take care of Yunho’s kingdom while he’s gone, I will take care of Yeosang’s, Yena’s and Mingi’s kingdom, and Wooyoung and Jongho… please look after San and make sure he doesn’t try anything stupid.”

“We got this,” Wooyoung smirked as he clapped Jongho, making Gaeul giggle. She was leaving San in good hands- he wouldn’t even get the time to think about her if he was with Wooyoung and Jongho.

“Are you sure you can take care of the entire continent?” Yena asked. 

“My palace can run itself,” Hongjoong assured Yena and she relaxed, knowing she wouldn’t have to worry about a thing, but-

“You know your court runs your kingdom anyway since you’re always dozing off- maybe you should think before boasting-”

The flying cookie aimed for Yeosang’s head shut him up and made everyone laugh. Gaeul looked around, her eyes glazed. “Thank you for doing all of this for me. I don’t know how I’ll ever pay you back.”

“Just try to come back alive and intact with a good control over your magic,” the eldest Prince smiled warmly. “That would be enough for all of us.”

taglist: @yunnierights @monstaxdirtywonk @moni-cah @uyumilk @atxxzist @hazysan @bewitchedinyourhunger @kk-fleury @sincostansan @onedumbho3 @wooya1224 @icouldntcareless22 @jjaelly @huachengsbestie01 @ztjileen @charreddonuts @mdibby @gugggu6gvai

[sleepvines]

In honor of mermay I shaved off Reed's head danglies.

rambling under the cut because I'm unwell about things (warning for sexual themes if that's not your thing)

what really gets me about Reed is that after he gets shoved under the bus by his crew (rightfully so) and has to reconfigure everything from rock bottom. He has to grapple with problems that never would have even been in his sphere of understanding as a cis man. His new form leaves him with dysphoria over what he considers "feminine" elements (functionally hairless, diminutive stature, in possession of a slit...), his transformation into some kind of fish thing leaves him feeling subhuman and ugly, all while his previous title as a captain careeens farther and farther behind him, and he can never catch up.

and still he has to get used to it. he has to accept it. there's no way around other than through. He suffers through his own personal emasculation terrors and comes out of it a far more stable person as a result. Koda has to get it through his head again and again and again that no matter what he looks like, what he's lost, he's enough. He doesn't have to run a ship to be enough. He can take refuge in her without punishment.

And on the sexual side of things (that's Curvor's whole deal if it wasn't painfully obvious) he still gets to dominate and call shots and be as masculine as he likes. He gets to be over the top about it even! reclaim his body for himself and discover that men come in shapes he couldn't fathom. It's just a struggle for a while because he has strong biases for how a man should look and be seen as that have to slowly dissolve over time.

He even gets comfortable enough to fuck and get fucked in ways that are "feminine" because he maintains control. Koda can fold him over in ways that he frankly would have died hearing about in the past. She makes him hit octaves he didn't consider possible. She calls him things that he'd only hear in his nightmares. And after all of it he can look back on it and say that he's just as man as he's always been. There's no losing.

[thethistlegirlwrites]

Loyalties

Sierra stops outside the derelict building, looking up at its crumbling facade. 

She’s burned a lot of bridges, called in a lot of favors, and in the end, gotten an incredible stroke of luck, to get here.

She doesn’t have time to wait for the backup she’s called.

She guns the engine and the car jolts up the single step, then crashes through the front door in a shower of shattering glass, crumbling brick, and splintering wood. She keeps it moving until the doors clear the debris, then jumps out, flinging a garlic gas grenade in either direction and clearing the room in wide sweeps before heading toward the stairs.

Okay, so she’s being a little dramatic. But the element of surprise, and the fact that she wasn’t entirely sure this wasn’t a trap, is worth it. If she’d just walked in the doors, she’d have been worried about being ambushed.

Sometimes the only way to avoid that scenario is to cause it yourself.

Now she’s the one who comes off as desperate and determined. Which is absolutely true. She’s not sure that will have any effect on the vampire she’s coming for, but at the very least, it might make the playing field seem a little more level. 

The second floor is empty, very clearly so. Sierra spends minimal time clearing it, before heading for the staircase and climbing to the third floor. The glass cuts and aches from her less than textbook entry are starting to make themselves known as the adrenaline tapers off. She wishes it would last a little longer. She’s still got a vampire to fight.

She kicks open the rusty lock on the third floor door and comes face to face with her nightmare.

Shay is standing near the middle of the room, stiff and statue-like, and there’s the faintest outline of someone else behind him, using his body as a barrier.

Sierra lowers the gun slightly. 

“I’m Sierra Stoker with the Chimera Agency. It’s over. Let him go. There’s a whole team of hunters on their way.” 

“He told me about you.” The voice echoes, and not just off the scraps of manufacturing machinery left in this dump. Shay’s voice is coming out in time with the vampire woman’s. It’s not even close to the first time Sierra’s seen a sire take over their victim, but it’s a whole new kind of awful when the fledgling is someone she’s known for years. When it’s painfully obvious how not-himself he is right now.

Is this what it felt like when Tio had to face Emma? There’s always been a horror in Uncle John’s voice when he tells that story that goes beyond the shock of seeing his former colleague and teammate turned, and nearly having his throat ripped out before she wrestled control of herself back from Arion. 

“I thought you might come for him yourself. He’s a fun little plaything, isn’t he?” The vamp continues. “Unfortunately for you, I found him first.” 

Sierra can’t let it get to her. There’s too much on the line. “Let him go now, and maybe I’ll consider letting you live long enough for a trial.” 

“You want me dead, but I don’t think you’ll kill him to get it.”

She wouldn’t have to kill him. Sierra’s done this before, but with a human hostage, at Amarillo. To get to the vampire who had her teammate, she’d clipped his leg, dropping him like a stone and giving her a clear line of fire.

She could try it now, but this vamp is expecting it. The only way Sierra gets a chance at taking her down is to lower her defenses. Force her hand, then take advantage of whatever mistake she makes.

“What kind of life is he going to have with you?” She asks. Still playing the game, but hopefully, lowering the vamp’s estimation of her cunning.

“He’s mine now, little hunter. My fledgling, mine to play with until I tire of him.” The vampire’s head appears for a fraction of a second as she trails a line of kisses down Shay’s neck, and Sierra shudders. 

He’s been missing for three days. What has she already done to him?

He’s not wearing the same clothes he’d left in. Sierra knows that's a ridiculous detail to latch onto, but she also remembers that he was going to work the door at the Luna.

It might have been a simple case of wanting to remove the claim of another coven. But Sierra knows, bone deep, that’s not all it was. 

“You can’t control him like this all the time. The longer you use your sire’s influence, the more capable he’ll be of finding a way to fight it. He’s learned from a vampire who did. She locked out a member of the first circle. He can push you out. He’ll keep fighting you until he finds a way to get you out of his head.”

“Oh, after today, I won’t need to fight him.” The vampire laughs. “I’m going to make him kill you. I’m going to make him watch you die. And then he’s going to drink your blood. He will crave the oblivion of my control after that. The humans will never stop hunting him for killing you. His only safety will be with me.” 

Sierra’s sparred with Shay so many times every movement of his is muscle memory. But somehow, it’s still a shock when in one fluid motion he’s snatched a jagged chunk of metal from the side of a half-dismantled machine, covered the distance of the room, and driven it into her side.

Because it’s not his movements. It’s his sire’s.

It’s also the opportunity she needs.

She has one shot at this.

She ignores every instinct screaming at her to pull back, and throws herself forward, metal digging into her side, arm swinging over Shay’s shoulder for a clear shot at the laughing vamp behind him.

In the split second it takes for the bullet to reach her, the woman’s face shifts from glee to shock.

Good. I want you to know you failed.

(This is actually a companion story in Sierra's POV to a Whumptober series I wrote last fall! You can read that series on my WorldAnvil here, and today's fic here!)

@catwingsathena @nade2308 @the-one-and-only-valkyrie @telltaleclerk @ettawritesnstudies  @writeouswriter

[whydoibe]

What if jay was the crystal king

Basicly jays anger and grief turning him into a hermit would create or allow a vioce to call out offering him things when he tried to tell the others they told him to go away or medtation but nothing worked eventually leaving to follow it ending up face to face with haruimi much to her shock before the overlord revealed he let him in to become something greater offering him nyas return explains that as the anthsis elemental light he could reverse her capture in exchange for jay giving up himself jay in moment of grief would agree becoming incased in the crystal.

Much would remain the same expet to the ninjas concern jay doesn't show up the ninja haven't seen him in months.

The crystal king was on the battlefield zane telling them to not engage but he was caught off guard and had no choice but to engage the corrupted power brushing across his face kai manged to gain the upper hand only for the monster to look at him staring into his soul.

"Oh kai still think your the strongest" the beast mocked it sounded like no. The mask of its face shrunk slightly and pulled upwards and kai saw jay pale eyes purple and blue with red pupils. He looked pained mouth twisted into a smile sharp teeth painfully obvious.

"J-Jay" kai would mutter as the mask covered his face once again lighting striking him he was saved by Cole thank the first for his existence.

"I will always win" the crystal king cried "it was I his corrupted who was the one to bite garmdon and set my plans into motion" golden light encasing him he had been defeated but still hand an ace up his sleve the vessel was breaking free but held use still. The rubble moved his hand breaking through it rising again standing turning to face the ninja lighting and darkness coating his 4 arms and hands glowing the ninja looked terfied how'd he reveal in thier screams. Rising his hand to kill them the vessels vioce annoyingly gaining volume.

'Don't you dare' jay cried he saw through his eyes but was powerless a watcher against his best wishes seeing nya look so scared because of him hurt him no no matter whatbthe overlord did nya would survive all of his friends would this was his body his command and was his element.

The crystal king raised his hand the ninja stared thier eradication certain. They cried good byes. Then blue sparks the crystal king backed away.

"Get out now" it screeched

"Why should I let it happen and give in let it rain let the storm kill" a 2nd much crueller vioce emanated from the beast kai seemed to be thinking before running towards it the ninja crying

"Jay" kai would cry hugging the thing tears falling from its eyes "it's u I thought it wasn't but he ... fight him jay"

Inside of jays mind Waa a ragging war occurs conflict mind against mind blades shining and clashing chains breaking then he felt kai his brother.

"Fight him jay" kais vioce rang through his head lighting sparking this was his domain not the overlords.

"Noooo no no " it cried as figures approached dragging it down but jay felt still returning to his body the stone amour that covered him was painfull the mask he wore hurt him. Get this off him the he felt water surrounded him.

The ninja watched as the beast they beloved to be the overlord petrified still kai kept hugging it being it to move why. Then nya surrounded it in water she wanted this thing gone then. "N-NYA" it cried with jays vioce dry and dehydrated but jays vioce. The amour shifting the crystals rearanginging the now two armed figure stood and then kai grabbed the helemnt ripping it off Turning to dust after hitting the floor. The figures face was jay twisted and contorted teeth seemed sharp horns adorned his head along his neck to his forehead were spines looking crystal like then he promptly passed out eyes darting to nya shoeing grief regret realeaf in an instant.

------

Days latter jay awoke feeling alone for the first time in over a year jay for the first time in forever felt ok with that. Then he opened his eyes seeing the medbay of monstary he felt to his chest feeling warmth no armour or crystals but then he saw the machines vitals go crazy as soon as he stared at the door no one noticed good he could slip out and then run away any where just to avoid thier judgemental stares at him as he pleaded his case for why he was the crystal king. He stood and noticed his hands claws and grey ish blue skin he felt large sharp teeth in his jaw he looked at his feet they looked different claws and back claw he felt a line of spines along his back getting up he walked over to mirror his eyes were blue and purple horns atop his head tears formed what had he dun why did he do it grief that was no excuse he knew they all grieved but he alone was responsible for probably hundreds no thousands of deaths. Jay crept out stocking to the shadows crawling along each shadows way to easily. He heed an argument.

"He is responsible kai" Lloyd cried

"Is he Lloyd he made a mistake and was clearly not in control when he preformed those actions" kai retorted back sounding disgusted at Lloyd

"Jay was grieving we all were he just happens to be the only one to turn into the overlord" Lloyd screeched. Jay felt his breathing quickn Lloyd was screaming to argue that he was responsible he new that he was he couldn't let his brothers argue about what he did jay felt a surge and with out meaning to he appeared right infront of them jay looked at thier shocked looks before spotted nya she looked the same last time he saw her just dammeged a few new scars.

"Nya"

"Don't you talk to her jay" Lloyd stated with a protective tone

"Jay" nya cried hugging him and then all his worries metered away.

Jay stood amongst his familie explains everything Lloyd forgave him he garmdon new what it felt like and related to him saying its ok. Wu told him that he probably saved the future a big headache

[banjjakz]

bleed for me; hananene 5+1 oneshot

He’s amassed whole lifetimes of bad habits, and never has one felt more grievous than the way his lifeless body threatens to rise again after Yashiro launches herself off of him in mortified realization of their compromising position. A bad habit, thinks Hanako, watching his roommate flee away as he barely resists the urge to give chase. Predator and prey. A body drained dry. I’d take good care of you.

(Or: Five times Hanako is painfully, embarrassingly obvious about being a vampire -- and the one time he doesn't even need to be.)

wc: ~6.7k

warnings: vampire!au; horror elements; disturbing themes; graphic descriptions of blood & ensuing oral consumption; etc, etc

🖤 read on ao3 🖤

1. Garlic Bread

“I’m home!”

From his lax recline on the bed, Hanako calls out a lazy welcome back. He doesn’t get up because he’s far too comfortable watching old primetime reruns of ridiculous game shows, and also -- well. 

He’s a little unhappy.

Ah, maybe not unhappy. That’s a rather strong word -- sensation? Feeling? For someone who’s felt a lot of them for a very long time, Hanako isn’t the most adept at categorizing his own emotions. Let alone experiencing them. It’s much more convenient to acknowledge that something probably important is sounding off in his chest, and then leave it alone to run its course. Hands-off is always the way to go. Less messy that way.

But then, he’s forced to deal with complex situations such as these:

The lovely, strange, absolutely enrapturing human being whose life he feels lucky enough to occupy even just a small, miniscule part of -- flouncing into his bedroom, all bright eyes and wide-lipped smiles and rosy cheeks and limbs jittering in excitement at seeing him after a mere handful of hours spent apart--

And Hanako, whose cold, dead heart threatens to jolt back to life at the mere sight of her.

How odd. He wonders what it means, and then immediately stops doing that. Hands-off. Mess free.

“Hanako-kun!” Greets Yashiro, rushing to stand at his side, her stockinged feet thump-thump-thumping at the hardwood in a rapid, red-blooded pulse. Her hair flows freely today, which is unusual. Normally, she has it pulled back and away from her face, in one neat platinum sphere at the base of her neck. There’s a decorative clip or three in there, somewhere, too.

Where are those tonight? What happened to the disturbingly skull-shaped barrette? He likes that one. “Hanako-kun, look! For you!”

Oh, she’s holding something. He hadn’t even noticed. Upon closer inspection, it seems to be…

“A greasy paper bag,” Hanako deadpans. “How kind of you, Yashiro.”

She rolls her eyes, and stomps her foot. He can see the vibrant red of her painted toenails even through those dark tights she insists on wearing out everyday. These are one of her nicer pairs, though. No rips or runs in sight. Not even when Hanako scans her legs up and down and up again, just to check. Just to make sure.

Yashiro’s irate scoff sends his eyes scrambling very rapidly back to meet her own. “You’re impossible. You gotta guess what’s in- side the bag, dummy.”

“Radishes. No, wait, we already have plenty of those on hand.”

“Oh my God, I am literally going to kill you. Do you wanna die?” Hanako almost laughs. “Last chance before I change my mind and don’t let you have any!”

“Ohhh. Something I can have?”

Yashiro nods. Hanako tracks the movement of her jaw like a vulture circling a corpse, freshly splayed open and vulnerable and tantalizing with how red the blood, how plump the flesh, how easy it would be to sink his talons in and bare his teeth and--

“I have no idea,” he muses, “what that would be, then.”

“You’re so weird sometimes, Hanako-kun. Anyways, remember how I went over to Kou-kun’s tonight? Because he needed a taste-tester for his school assignments? Remember?”

Ah, and here he returns to the root issue of tonight’s predicament. Hanako is swiftly delivered back into the strange sensation of discontent that plagued him mere moments prior to Yashiro’s arrival. She’d distracted him -- as she is so often does -- from his brooding. 

Hanako remembers that he’s supposed to be brooding.

Hanako begins to brood. 

It’s a pitiful attempt, really, because Yashiro is hellbent on injecting the evening with her unique brand of excitable fanfare, and Hanako has never been able to put up much of a fight against her. He’s weak to the sun and all it’s gifts of brightness, after all.

In a last-ditch effort to save face, he manages to pout. Yes, this will show her. This will express to her his deep-seated dissatisfaction! 

“Hmph. I guess,” sighs Hanako, batting his lashes for good measure.

“Oh quit it. Don’t look like such a jealous puppy--”

“-- Excuse me--”

“--Especially ‘cause I brought you such a good gift! Look!”

And then Yashiro reaches into the bag and pulls out a slice of greasy, buttery, deliciously succulent garlic bread.

Hanako doesn’t even have the time to process her accusation of jealousy (which, hello? A little absurd if you ask him.) as he’s preoccupied with scrambling backwards to the opposite side of the bed, as fast as what will hopefully appear to be humanly possible.

“Kou-kun’s in the middle of his global unit in school, and he chose to make some Italian dishes, so I thought I’d bring home-- hey!! Where are you going!” Yashiro, clearly perplexed, pauses in her bubbly explanation. “Don’t be like that! I know you don’t like Kou-kun for whatever stupid reason, but really? He made it just for you!”

Of course he did, thinks Hanako, scathingly. He will deal with that overgrown menace of a mutt later, when his physical body is not in imminent danger and Yashiro is not growing steadily closer, brandishing the bread as though it were a sword, or rapier.

Oh, if only she knew.

Normally, Hanako would be elated -- ecstatic, even -- to see Yashiro crawling across his mattress, chasing him with a dark intensity in her eyes and a palm outstretched. But the issue here is that her palm, as sweet-smelling and milky soft as it looks and probably feels (Hanako wouldn’t know), is currently wielding a weapon of mass destruction.

He tries to placate her, or at least slow her steady advance, but it’s all for naught. “H-Hey now, Yashiro--”

He should throw her off. She shouldn’t even be in his home in the first place, let alone in his bed, but somewhere along the way Hanako had started making inappropriate, foolish, misguided allowances for this strange woman, and then he… never stopped.

Honestly? For a mistake as silly as entertaining a human of all things, he supposes he should go out in an equally as embarrassing fashion: death by sliced bread.

Yashiro is on top of him now, her thick calves bracketing the bony jut of his hips as she sits on his chest and leans over him, her cheeks incensed a bright and healthy rouge -- a mere few shades darker than those glittering fuschia eyes. Hanako can’t help but wonder just how red she can get; how much red she has to spare. How much red would be enough to burst her open and leak along the sides of her pristinely pale canvas like spilled acrylic in one big, gory, spattering mess. 

For two (definitely, totally, absolutely) mutually exclusive reasons, Hanako feels his stomach contract.

“You’re being ridiculous,” announces Yashiro from her perch atop his body, blissfully unaware of the fact that Hanako could very easily toss her clean across the city if he so chose. 

(Or maybe, it’s the fact that might know, and is unafraid of the prospect. As though she believes he won’t. Humans are such an arrogant, fickle species. He can’t say that he particularly misses being amongst their ranks.)

“It’s bread. Would it kill you to be agreeable for once and just take a freaking bite?”

Her heartbeat. He can hear it loud and clear even as he lays underneath the vice grip of her sturdy legs. Does she even know how fast her pulse rams itself against her veins? Like it’s begging to be rescued from the confines of that pretty, porcelain cage? 

Fuck. Fuck.

Hands-off. 

Mess free. 

“I’m allergic,” says Hanako, slowly, face blank and clean as a slate as he stares unblinkingly back up at his captor. “To garlic.”

There’s a curtain of shimmering white that cascades around the two of them, shifting to block out any and all extraneous stimuli. He should remind her to pick up some more bleach the next time she takes a trip to Daiso. It’s time to touch-up her roots again.

“Allergic,” she parrots.

The way her lips shape around the word, tasting it and rolling it around in suspicion, is captivating. In all his years of dealings on this earth never has Hanako followed a journey so gripping, so intense, as the way that Yashiro Nene’s mouth moves across a sentence. “Allergic,” she says again, flat and faint.

He’s just barely able to nod. “Deathly.”

“You’re deathly allergic to garlic.”

Time grinds to a painful, halting stop. The gradual slowing of the outside world is so acute that Hanako can track with his eyes the moment that Yashiro’s gaze flickers down to his cracked lips and the steady in-and-out of her breath is all but frozen in place. It’s excruciating, the level of detail he’s been subjected to bear witness to as a creature borne of blood and misery. He hates that he can hear her lungs rattle in suspense. He hates that he can name each muscle that goes still and locks solidly into place, anchoring around him in a rigid, tense embrace. He hates that he can smell her fear.

“Precisely. And you are straddling me. Are we done stating facts or would you like to continue on, Yashiro?”

It’s a bad habit he has, relying on humorous deflection. He’s amassed whole lifetimes of bad habits, and never has one felt more grievous than the way his lifeless body threatens to rise again after Yashiro launches herself off of him in mortified realization of their compromising position. A bad habit, thinks Hanako, watching his roommate flee away as he barely resists the urge to give chase. Predator and prey. A body drained dry. I’d take good care of you.

The crumbs in his bed dig into his skin and burn there, serving as a very stark, very physical reminder of his worst habit.

He’s already served his penance. Is currently serving it. Is slated to serve it for the rest of whatever conceivable eternity awaits him. 

So why, then, does his chest twist and ache with an ardor he thought had died with him, all that time ago? 

2. Reflection

The only reason he’d agreed to tag along was because Yashiro promised him that he didn’t have to speak if he didn’t want to. He isn’t much inclined to converse with random humans -- especially not over cheap, young wine. 

But this is, of course, exactly what he finds himself doing on a Thursday evening he would otherwise spend alone, holed up in his room, with his blackout curtains drawn to the side to bask in the glow of the full moon. Longingly, Hanako glances out of the large window he’d surreptitiously made a home next to immediately upon their arrival. Ah, well. Next month.

A round of boisterous laughter startles him out of his reverie. He chances a glance back to the sectional sofa in front of him and is greeted by the sight of Yashiro nearly doubled over in apparent amusement, wine glass tipping dangerously to the wayside. Her cheeks are speckled with the beginnings of a youthful pink. Unshed tears cling to her thin eyelashes. When she straightens up to catch her breath, she meets his gaze and allows her grin to melt into something soft and warm and entirely unsuited for the terrible, awful things that run through Hanako’s mind faster than the speed of light.

Having fun? She mouths discreetly, bringing the glass up to take another sip.

He nods, draining the red in his own grasp long and slow. It tastes like ash on his tongue. 

One of the other humans speaks, then. It isn’t the orange haired fellow who’d immediately struck Hanako as a sniveling, blindsided, spineless fool of a man -- no, it’s his wife, who’s entirely too preoccupied with asking questions about Hanako’s personal life for his comfort. 

“Hanako-san,” she begins pleasantly, gripping the wine bottle by the neck as she tops off his glass. Unprompted. “I’ve been wondering about something! Nene-chan is an Insta-freak, you know, right?” A what? “But you’re never on her page,” she continues with a pout, “And you aren’t tagged in any photos. Are you shy? That’s adorable!”

How can a woman speak so politely with eyes as cold as hers? They glitter at him underneath the fluorescent lighting of the living area, small and hard and blindingly bright, a twin set of enchantingly haunted jewels. Delicately, she tastes at the rim of her glass, and says nothing else.

Before he can conjure up a response that isn’t mood-killing and really little more than a thinly veiled threat, Yashiro pipes up. “Hanako-kun’s super off-grid!” She stresses, eyes wide, words comically over exaggerated as though she is delivering information of the utmost importance. “He has a very troubled childhood! He doesn’t like talking about it! So that’s why!”

“A troubled childhood,” muses the purple haired menace.

Yashiro nods solemnly, gulping another hit of her dry white. “Yeah! He’s got a bunch of weird allergies, too. Did you know that he can’t eat garlic? Not even garlic bread? Isn’t that so sad!”

“...Indeed it is. My condolences, Hanako-san.”

Right.

The evening doesn’t really improve from there, apart from Yashiro falling into his side after she gets a bit too wine drunk. Hanako can smell more than just the saccharine perfume she slathers on all the time; no, from this close, Hanako inhales and internalizes the scent of a robust, earthy musk, far richer than anything spritzed or patted superficially into the skin. Hanako can smell underneath her skin. Hell, Hanako can practically see -- can practically taste the delicacies hidden there, with how firmly she leans onto him. Would she still feel comfortable holding clutching onto his arm, if she knew the kinds of things he thinks about her? About doing to her?

They say good night to the amethyst wench and her sad excuse of a clueless human husband not long after that. The apartment isn’t far away and it’s too late to stumble into the car of a subway, so the pair of them trek home on foot.

A quiet night. The moon is as full as she is healing, and Hanako returns to himself a little bit more underneath her watchful, healing gaze.

“Now that I think about it… we really don’t have any pictures together.”

Although Yashiro has sobered up enough to stand straight, she still maintains a loose grasp on his arm. Her fingernails curl into the sleeve of his button down, a splash of bright, vivid red disappearing in the deep dark of a moonless night. Swallowed right up without a second thought. “Is it… is it because you’re embarrassed, Hanako-kun? Of, um… well. Do you not want to be seen with me? I’m sorry…”

He could break his own neck. He should. He would, if she asked him to.

“You own a Polaroid camera, yes?”

“Ah! You mean my Hello Kitty one? Uh-huh! Why?”

“When we return home,” Hanako says, like a fool, “We can take a picture.”

If he were a defendable creature, he’d point to Yashiro’s sudden and swift ascent into excitement as the justification for the latest manifestation of his long, long list of bad habits. Her strong ankles defy gravity and carry her as she floats on air, giggling as she skips the whole way home. Even as they make their way through the front door. Even as she must root around in her cluttered bedroom (that Hanako cannot follow her into, for obvious reasons). Even as she struggles to remember how to change the film, and inputs a decorative mascot-inspired roll, nicking more than a few of her pale, slender fingers in the process.

Even as she wades through darkness, Yashiro is so bright. 

The actual photo itself requires some set-up which eventually results in Hanako reversing the contraption unto them and pressing down on what he’s only halfway sure is the capture button. He assumes that he’s done well when a thin strip of glossy paper leaks out from the bottom and Yashiro swipes at it in a giddy stupor, remnants of the Riesling from earlier that evening rendering her sloppy and uncoordinated. 

“‘Kay, it’s gotta develop now… should only be a few more seconds! Will you keep it safe tonight? ‘M sooooo tired, and I really gotta shower before I pass out…”

Yashiro is already stumbling away, back towards her bedroom. She slips the rapidly lightening square in his palm as she slips back, lingering for one moment too long against the doorframe.

“Thanks, Hanako-kun. G’night.”

And then she is gone.

Which is probably for the best. The film has finally pulled itself from the murky depths of ambiguity. Hanako looks down at the picture in his palm and Yashiro stares back at him: her bold, red lips and silver-spun hair are two twin beacons of color, misplaced and incongruent within the impenetrable sea of blackness surrounding her. 

Where Hanako should have been instead lies a lapse in composition. The photograph is blank and undeveloped around his general silhouette. But that is not the strangest thing about the photograph.

The strangest thing is howYashiro leans into the darkness, unafraid of the way it spindles into her own boisterous portrait and slowly eats at the brightly hued pigments of her warm flesh, her pretty, frilly dress, her smile. That unerringly loud, human smile.

How long will it take, he wonders, before the shot is entirely eclipsed by that cold, dead void.

3. Sunlight

It’s a bad day before he even opens his eyes.

As a creature of indeterminate longevity and supernatural capabilities, sleep is not the necessity it once was for him. But he indulges, from time to time, when there’s little to do during the daylight hours. After all, he’s confined to his bedroom from sunrise until sunset. Pacing the perimeter of a lion’s cage grows tiresome, even to eternally patient apex predators such as himself. Much easier to force his body to shut down and pass the time for him, as his consciousness wanders aimlessly through the realm of a deep, dreamless slumber.

This day is not one of those days. This day is the peak of Summer’s cruel, tyrannical reign. This day is suffocating. This day is warm. This day is bright. 

This day maneuvers above and below and all around the blackout curtains that are always painstakingly drawn over his windows. This day leaks into his bedroom and weasels its way into his sheets, underneath his skin, scorching him from the inside out with such a ferocity that it renders him immobile. Every fiber of his being threatens to splice into terrifying, meaningless oblivion. 

When Yashiro first asked, Hanako told her it was migraines.

It was a vague excuse that pinpointed some rare, untreatable immune-disease that left him inexplicably weak to sunlight. Yashiro really should have been more persistent in hunting down the real truth -- the actual truth -- especially considering her occupation as an urgent clinic nurse. He considers the idea that it’s an answer she doesn’t care enough to unearth. He mulls over the alternative, which is that she is too frightened by whatever she may find to go searching for it in the first place. He then decides he’s done thinking about her. Today is torture enough.

A gentle knock at his door renders all of his efforts fruitless, however. “Hanako-kun?” Her voice filters easily through the heavy fog clouding his awareness, like a blade through slackened flesh. “You okay?”

She’s still standing hesitantly in his doorway, as though waiting for permission to enter. He’d laugh if it didn’t hurt so badly to do anything other than lay still and flat as a corpse.

He can’t afford to expend any unnecessary effort lest he wear himself out completely, so he goes for the most direct course of action:

Snakes his arm out of the big, black ball of sheets and comforter in which he’s coffined himself inside. Holds back a curse as he’s made aware of just how weak he’s become. Struggles not to drop his cellular phone when he finally manages to blindly locate it. Unplugs the device single handedly with tremorous fingers. Holds it out to the open air.

“Take this,” says Hanako, voice dim and tepid. “Dial the contact ‘Tsukasa.’ Give him this address.”

Not for the first time, Hanako realizes that he should be grateful for this human’s absence of curiosity. He has amassed plenty of bad habits in the past, all of them metastasizing entirely too close for comfort until he’d been forced to handle them in a way that had been entirely hands-on and the very opposite of mess-free. For Yashiro to wordlessly collect the cellular phone from his trembling grasp and do as she’s told is what he’d call a blessing, if he still believed in feats as fickle as faith. 

She is confused as she makes the phonecall. Hanako can hear the shift of her hair sliding past one shoulder as she tilts her head. He can feel the way her chest flutters in a muted gasp of surprise when the line connects after the first ring. She can’t be more than three or four feet away. Close enough for him to reach out and brush, with the pitifully pale pads of his fingertips. What a sight that would paint, muses Hanako, deliriously. Icarus and his glittering, lethal lover.

Time ebbs and flows and bends and breaks after that. He’s distantly aware that he drops in and out of consciousness. The hot wax slathering each of his limbs is an imagined thing, he’s sure, as is the sensation of free-falling to an anticipated, blunt death. These sensations are from the dreamscape that pulls him beneath its suffocating depths only to release him at the last second, in a cruel imitation of the sea and all her unfathomable terror. 

(He has not dreamt in so very, very long. It’s a bad habit.)

The final time he breaks the surface, he surges up against something -- cold. The kind of cold that forces his own to bow its head. The kind of cold that relieves him of his fever, and sends a violent chill through his body, all at once. The kind of cold one should only absorb in small doses, with limited contact. A once-in-every-three-decades kind of cold. That kind of cold.

“Hi, Amane! You look terrible!”

Tsukasa’s hand on his forehead is frigid enough that it loops back into the realm of burning. Hanako must gently bat it away and blink blearily up at the sight of his twin brother, just as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as he always was. Always is.

“Hi, Tsu.”

“Hold still, ‘kay? I brought the bendy straws you like. All you gotta do is sip. Open wide!”

Obediently, Hanako parts his lips and accepts the flimsy piece of plastic. 

He tries not to think about what, exactly, it is that he’s doing. If he closes his eyes and holds his breath, Hanako can almost pretend that he’s being fed by different hands, in a different world, as a different person. 

“Hey, Amane?”

Gulp, shudder. Resist the instinctive gag that claws its way up his throat like a beast bending the bars of its cage. “Yeah, Tsu?”

“Why are you starving yourself?”

Eyes closed. Mouth shut. Another swallow. Hands-off. Mess free.

“You have food right there,” Tsukasa whispers. “Is there something wrong with her? Is she sick? Y’know, I’m not picky. If you don’t want her, I can--”

Hanako, with newfound strength, launches upright into a sitting position. What wonders a couple of mouthfuls can do. 

Oh, how to explain this. Oh, how to navigate his way through an intersection of muddled implications and unspoken subtleties, all of which will go right over Tsukasa’s head. How can Hanako pretend to be a creature of innuendo and self-control, when his biggest, most glaring lapse in judgement sits across from him in the damned den of his own design?

He struggles for a moment, running a tired hand down his face. “Yashiro is a -- friend.”

“A friend?”

“Yes,” confirms Hanako, desperately avoiding Tsukasa’s curious gaze. “And friends don’t eat friends.”

The words are slimy and leave a bad taste in his mouth. Well. Maybe the words themselves aren’t what lingers at the back of his tongue and stains his teeth. But they are odious, nonetheless, and hang in the air like empty nooses dripping down from a gallows.

“Friends don’t let friends starve,” is Tsukasa’s counterpoint. “If it were me, Amane, I’d let you. Even though you already did, I’d let you do it again. I’d always let you.”

Hanako has never understood why Tsukasa refuses to cover up the twin bite marks that marr his jugular. Is it to punish him? Is it not punishment enough, that Hanako has to see his face at all? 

When his brother grins at him, it cuts like a knife. Hanako remembers a time where those cheeks stretched wider, when those eyes glistened with something other than black ice. Tsukasa plucks the bendy straw out of the cup and drinks straight from the rim, tossing his head back to give Hanako full view of the way his throat opens and closes around the infernal contents. 

He can’t stop staring at the scars: two lone stars fixed in an empty, pallid, apocalyptic sky.

The younger boy is sated only when the cup has been drained dry -- and even then, he pants, exhilarated, pupils blown large and dangerously obsidian as they flitter back and forth as though in search of more, more, more. 

Why are you starving yourself?

He’d always been a messy eater. His baby brother, Tsukasa. Tsukasa who loved Katanuki. Tsukasa who loved to paint. Tsukasa who still loves to paint, but now works solely in abstract monochrome. Tsukasa, who paints himself over and over and over again until he’s dripping, covered head-to-toe in a masterpiece of his own design. Tsukasa, who licks his canvas clean at the end of each night only to start anew in tomorrow’s dangerous twilight dusk. Tsukasa, who collects victims like portraits.

Tsukasa, who had once been a portrait himself. Hanako, who held the brush in his hands and created something freakishly beautiful that wretched, awful night.

Why are you starving yourself?

He feels full enough, watching Tsukasa pass his tongue over his chops. He feels like he’ll never need to eat again.

By the time his brother makes his departure, the sun has long since sunk beneath the horizon. Hanako’s room is once again as it should be: a thick, inky fog of opaque black. It’s so dark, in fact, that had he not been what he is, he would never have spotted the slight gap between his door and its frame, where a slender figure lingers in apprehensive wait.

Yashiro is checking on him, he realizes belatedly. 

Why are you starving yourself?

“Good night,” She calls, softly. “I’m about to head out for a double.”

“Be safe.”

“‘Course! I always am… I hope you feel better soon, Hanako-kun.”

He couldn’t have this if he ate like an animal. He couldn’t have Yashiro -- sweet, gentle, lovely Yashiro -- living alongside him as he devoured bodies made in her image. Already, Hanako struggles with what his baser instincts urge him towards… to give into those temptations would be putting her in danger. 

His door clicks quietly shut. His room is bathed in the cover of night once more.

Left alone to his own devices, the beat begins to roam its cage. A growl sounds, low and deep and mortally wounded. Not from his throat -- but from the very pit of his stomach.

Resistance is one thing, but ignorance, however feigned, is quickly ruled out of the realm of his personal possibility. There is no disregarding the sensations that fester inside of him. There is no course for his desires to run. There is only the ugly, maddening truth:

Hanako is hungry.

Hanako needs to put his hands on something.

Hanako needs to make a mess.

4. Silver

“Promise rings!”

“... Excuse me?”

“N-Not in a weird way, or anything like that!” Stutters Yashiro, fumbling with the miniature wooden box in her shaking, manicured grasp. “They’re just little cheap ones. I saw them on display at the mall, and I couldn’t just not… plus, do you even know what day it is?”

Hanako raises a brow. “Enlighten me.”

“It’s our six-months-as-roommates-a-versary!”

“Wow.”

“I’m really happy you recognize the importance here, Hanako-kun. Now stick out your hand so I can put yours on! And then you do me!”

If he didn’t know any better, Hanako would wonder how Yashiro gets anything done with those delicate fingers of hers. They’re as soft-looking and malleable and enticingly peachy as the rest of her, topped off at their gracefully tapered ends with a neat coat of ruby red. They dance along everything they touch, nimble little ballerinas hopping from pose to pose, commanding rapt attention wherever they leap. 

As his own hand raises to meet hers, he must fight the urge to clench into an ugly, defensive fist. 

The first touch sends something like electricity ricocheting down his spine like lightning through a weather vane. She is so gentle. How can she be so gentle? How can she be so round-edged and rosy-cheeked and expect him to just stand here, wordlessly, with nothing to do or say about it? How can she live in his house for six months and celebrate, rather than mourn? How can she look at him, a creature innate to unsightly presence and habit, and say to herself: this is something worthy of care.

The second touch is just as unnerving, but for all the wrong reasons.

“I thought you said this was cheap,” grits Hanako, exhaling sharply through his nose as the silver ring slides slow and meticulously down the length of his finger. 

Yashiro pauses, eyes narrowed. “Is it not? How can you even tell?”

“A-allergic… !”

To her credit, she’s properly mortified. Yashiro almost falls all over herself  to wrench the offending piece of jewelry off and away, apologizing profusely as she studies the burn wound on his middle finger. Her mouth twists into a tense little knot. Hanako wants to smooth it out.

Instead, he follows her obediently into her bathroom after she tells him to come inside and sit his ass down on the toilet -- which he does, sheepishly.

“I can’t believe -- oh, God, I’m so sorry, Hanako-kun… Just, hold still okay? It’s only gonna hurt a little, I promise.”

It’s an injury that would’ve long since healed itself by now, if he were in any other state than the one he currently occupies; which is to say that he’s rather unhealthy. Which is to say that the rats and possums and other small rodents he guiltily entraps in the alley behind the house do nothing besides sate a momentary desire. Which is to say that it is impossibly difficult to keep himself aware and conscious and disciplined enough not to careen head-first into Yashiro’s exposed clavicle and unhinge his jaw and feel his skull shift to accommodate the extra layer of fangs and sink his claws into her perfect, supple hips and feel her go paralyzed with terror as he--

“Okay! All done. Do you feel better now?”

“Yes.” It’s a pretty bandage. Pink and bright with tiny dancing radishes along the perimeter.

“I really am sorry,” mumbles Yashiro, encasing his frigid hands with her own, squeezing and rubbing with her soft thumbs. “I don’t ever want to hurt you. You’ve always -- you’re always so kind to me, all the time, and it just seems like… well, I don’t know. Lately I feel like I just never know how to help you, Hanako-kun. I feel like I just make things… worse. So can you promise me something?”

“Anything,” says Hanako, unblinkingly, because blinking is a sign of dishonesty.

“You have to tell me when you need something. Or when you don’t need something. Or when you -- uh, well, I really want you to be honest with me. Okay? Can you promise me that? Because it makes me really sad that you struggle with… a lot, and there’s not so much I know about how to help. So, please? Do you promise? To be honest?”

“I promise,” says Hanako, unblinkingly, because blinking is a sign of dishonestly and also because he can’t close his eyes without seeing her body splayed out in the bathtub behind her, limbs limp and gore overflowing past the rim and into his eagerly awaiting mouth. In this fantasy, he uses his tongue to follow the carmine droplets bulleting down the porcelain edge, licking and slurping until he reaches the source of the mess, the heart of the storm, the original inspiration to all his reverence. He would take his time. 

(Or would he lose himself? Would it be hands-on? Would it be messy?)

“Thank you for trusting me. I trust you… with my life, you know. Maybe it’s naive, but I hope one day you could do the same.”

He can’t touch her, not right now, even though she looks like she’s about to shake apart at the seams. All Hanako can do is watch from a safe distance, and wonder. And want. And ache.

As always.

5. Blood

She comes home early.

Hanako has only just padded his way into the kitchen when he hears the front door unlock. Is it that time, already? No, it can’t be. Yashiro usually arrives when he is just settling in to go back to sleep. She brings with her the pale light of a budding dawn, and although Hanako regrets their sparse interactions and conflicting schedules, he’d rather not disintegrate into a pile of ashes atop the living room couch just because he felt like saying welcome home, honey.

Tonight is different, apparently. A cursory glance thrown over to the microwave clock reveals that it’s only a few minutes past the witching hour. And despite there being a total absence of sunlight when Yashiro opens the door, Hanako still falls to his knees in a sudden onslaught of unadulterated agony.

His vision turns spotty, only worsening as Yashiro rushes inside and screams at the sight of his crumpled body. “Hanako-kun? Oh my God! Oh my God, can you hear me?”

Barely, is what he wants to say, but can’t. His throat is too tight, too dry. His mouth begins to salivate at an alarmingly disgusting rate. 

That smell.

Pathetically, he crawls over to her on his hands and knees, body running on autopilot as it drives him towards the source. Hanako can feel his body shift and transform with the pavlovian response he’s developed over the decades -- an instinct borne out of the memory of a chase, of a hunt,of warm flesh twisting and stretching and tearing underneath his capable grasp, of muffled screams and kicking legs and the eventual, gradual descent into permanent stillness, of hands scrabbling desperately into dirt, into pavement, into carpet, as they scream his name and beg him -- no -- no, stop -- what are you -- Hanako-san--!

Blood. But, not just any kind of blood. 

Fresh, human blood.

Six months is a very, very long time to go without food.

The scent wafts from the messenger bag thrown haphazardly over Yashiro’s shoulder. Hanako claws weakly at it, burying his nose into the worn fabric and moaning in relief at the contact. 

“Fuck,” he sighs, breathy. The debauched soundtrack of his own muffled desperation would embarrass him, probably, if he were cognizant of anything other than the metallic tang filling his nostrils.

The last thing he remembers is Yashiro running her fingers through his hair, shushing him quietly. 

And then it all fades to black.

“Oh, Good. You’re awake!”

Hanako gets about halfway through a sarcastic reply before something is shoved past his lips. Something… familiar. Something -- bendy?

“Drink up,” huffs Yashiro, pushing the straw more firmly into his mouth. “You’re lucky we had a contaminated batch of bags today. I-it’s still safe to drink, though! Or at least… I hope… tell me if it tastes funny, okay? Jeez, Hanako-kun… I didn’t know you were so hungry! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?

His lack of a response only propels her onward. 

“Well… I know you don’t like to talk about it… I’m sorry if this is making you uncomfortable, but I couldn’t just sit and watch you waste away--”

“You knew?”

“... Um. Was I not supposed to know?”

“You knew,” Hanako repeats numbly around the plastic in his mouth, dumbfounded. “This whole time, you knew.”

Unimpressed, Yashiro raises an eyebrow. “That you’re a vampire? Duh. Allergic to garlic? And silver? And sunlight? I’m not stupid, and you aren’t nearly as slick as you think you are, mister.”

 The chuckle she gives after this quickly peters off into something more melancholy, a little bit darker in origin. From where she’s perched on the couch, leaning above him to adjust the straw’s positioning into the medical packet on his chest, Hanako can see the sorrow, there, in her big, doe-like eyes. 

“You never brought it up… and I didn’t want to overstep any boundaries! I’ve never, erm, done ‘this’ before… if you couldn’t already tell. But since you never said anything… I just thought that, I don’t know? Maybe my blood wasn’t good enough to drink, or something like tha--”

“That is absolutely not the case.” 

He’s quick to cut her off. Too quick. “Far from it, really,” he attempts to joke in an effort to lessen the intensity of the blow, but the damage has already been done. Yashiro’s hand freezes around the blood bag, her eyes flitting up to lock onto his own. 

It’s unfairly attractive, the way her blush blossoms across her face. Hanako takes a long drag from the straw and swallows, never breaking his stare.

“I would… definitely be okay. More than okay. With doing -- ahem. That.”

“Drinking,” supplies Nene, so quietly that Hanako reads her lips more than he hears the charged word spill from her pink, glistening tongue. “You’d drink from me?”

What a question. Oh, if only she knew.

“Sure,” he hums, easily, “as long as you promise not to bring home anymore garlic bread. Especially not from that mangy mutt.”

“Hey, that isn’t very nice! Kou-kun isn’t… wait. You’re… you don’t mean…?”

“Yep.”

“Oh my god. That’s why you don’t like him!”

“His pack leader really, really hates me. Heh.”

“You know, you probably shouldn’t look so pleased about that.” She says, with a fond smile. Hanako wants to taste it. 

On his next sip, he’s met with an ugly slurping sound. Normally, the fact that he’d sucked down a pint of blood in less than five minutes would be cause for concern. But his circumstances are not normal. His circumstances haven’t been normal for quite a good while, really, and Hanako can’t bring himself to think about it too hard. Not when his worst bad habit is within arms’ reach; not when she’s digging into her bag and procuring another packet of blood for him to puncture with the blunt end of his straw.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, awestruck.

“And I’ve got seven more where that came from! So just take your time, okay? No rush. I’ll stay here and make sure you get your fill… I promise.”

Hanako thinks he will hold her to that.

+1: Feeding

This is nothing like the first time, which is what he’d originally been terrified of. This is nothing like the second, or third, or fourth or fiftieth or hundredth time.

(How could it be? How could having her pliant and wanton underneath his capable grasp be anything other than pure ecstasy?)

Before he takes the plunge, he -- has to warn her. Again. Just in case she’s changed her mind. “Last chance,” Hanako breathes into the fleshy meat of her, the aroma of pumping blood doing unspeakable things to his mind. “This is your last chance to back out, Yashiro.”

She’s pretty as a portrait, the way she shifts and wriggles underneath his body reminiscent of the melding of a varied color palette coming together in one grand, epic composition. 

But he’s about to stain her in monochrome. 

“Don’t be gentle,” Yashiro gasps, dragging his hands to hold her down. “I’m not afraid o-of a little mess.”

You should have been, thinks Hanako, mournfully, as he paints his first stroke of bright, brilliant red.

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

I’m tired but I kind of wanted to write a small snippet of concept of a wip and just post to post you know?

Steve Harrington had to grow up fast. Learn the manner of how some people acted, and decide whether or not it was smart to approach them. By people, it was mainly his parents. If his father had to much to drink his right hand would shake, his eyes would twitch and his words would come out bigger as if he wasn’t filtering himself down for Steve to understand. When these signs were shown, that was the telltale that he should avoid him at all costs. His Mother on the other hand would be stiff and staring a hole into a random object. Her nails digging into her palms while she stayed silent, though looked like she had so much to say. Like his father, Steve would avoid her at all costs. The skill of reading people started with them and slowly started to expand into his everyday life. How he talked to his teachers, to convince them to raise his grades to his Bosses who he would convince that he wouldn’t get in trouble for working later then normal.

This skill also ran into his friendships. No one made friends with Steve Harrington, it was Steve Harrington who made friends with you. That’s how he became friends with Tommy. He recognized the similar things the other would do that Steve would, instead of ignoring the other he moved in and took him under his wing. He did assume correctly with the other as Tommy’s father had been abusive as well. What he didn’t catch how ever was how Tommy would manipulate others into getting what he wanted. Steve didn’t fully catch onto this until it was to late and he laying bloodied on the ground in a Alley. After getting his ass kicked by Jonathan Byers. When the Upside Down started, it was almost as if he was in his element. He didn’t have to put a face up he could just be himself. He of course read the people surrounding him very well and decided that they were going to be his friends. Even if they didn’t have the intention of it.

Dustin had been the first, he had figured the out rather quickly and decided Dustin Henderson was going to be his little brother. Whether he knew that or not. Steve did what he did best and seen through the other, figuring the hair thing fully before the other could. It was obvious that there was no older male figure in the others life, only his Mother and there was only so long that someone could handle a Mom dressing you. So he helped the other with his hair spending over an hour styling it the way he wanted. And if the other kept doing that style over and over again, but with a hat on as well Steve wasn’t going to say anything.

Then there was Robin. He decided that they were going to be best friends in the stalls of the bathroom. He had figured that she had been hiding something, but he wasn’t sure what until she claim clean about Tammy. Like the short list of people before him Steve went to work with making sure to bring Robin into his small little bubble. Though it was mostly only him it was still comforting to the girl. Robin swears up and down that she was the reason why they became best friends but Steve knows that it was him. If he hadn’t started to open up to her to show her that he was much different from High-school then they wouldn’t be here. He had read the other during their first shift, it had been painfully obvious that she wanted to be anywhere but with him.

To summarize it all up? Steve Harrington has always been the one to bring people into his bubble. So when Eddie Munson comes flopping into the group he was a bit intimidated. Like himself, Eddie seemed to have a thing for gathering “lost sheep” if you will. It was probably the leading reason why he was so jealous of the other when he hears Dustin joined his Dnd group. What he doesn’t expect though is to go on a while goose chase with the guy nor did he think he would have the urge to pull the other into his tight knit circle.

Standing in the middle of the gym, folding clothing on the table Steve’s eyes stay fixed on Eddie Munson. Who was awkwardly standing to the side trying to figure out where to go. His “friends” were off to the right side of the gym acting like nothing ever happened. With the surrounding people in the gym it was obvious that no one had plans of inviting the guy to help them. He was alone and Steve knows he’s going to end up adopting the other into the family. Groaning he curses himself out as he moves is way through the gym. Knowing that his next recruit wasn’t going to be easy.

“Eddie- you going to just stand there or are you going to help me?” Steve comes off as casual, his hands on his hip as he has one shirt over his shoulder. Waiting for the other to join him. Eddie groans as he kicks himself off the wall. Looking like he was still in a bit of pain. Know Steve knew he was still in pain, if his side was still hurting to this day god only knows how Eddie Munson’s body was feeling.

The guy looks like a lost puppy is the first thing Steve notes. The way he walks and acts seems like he hasn’t been sleeping that great. Not much of a shock considering he himself hasn’t been sleeping well. He moves to his table and waves his hand at it to get the other to start folding. Watching with slight amusement as the others hands start to pick shirts up and nearly crumple them together in a attempt to fold them.

“Eddie, you have to do this” Steve says softly showing the other how to properly fold a shirt. Watching him copy his movements with his face scrunched up.

In that moment Steve knows. Well he already knew but this only confirms it. Eddie Munson was the next person on his list, and he was going to have to treat this like a abused puppy. Slow and very very patient. Just one wrong move, like the jerk of his movement causes him to flinch away.

Steve’s number one goal now is to be a better friend to Eddie Munson, better then all of his so called friends that stood off to the corner goofing off.

Small snippet of a concept I have that I’m writing, may change let me know if you want to be tagged when I actually post the WIP

[crystal-overdrive]

You mention that TT is an extension of your spirituality but I am going out on a leap here and state that I know you are not a Banite. How are you finding the two are linked?

Dear Doxieandthedead,

You've been to my house, you know that a big print of a black hand is the first thing you see when you walk in the door!

My worrying decor aside though, no I am not a real life Banite. I think you know some of this already but I'll explain it all for anyone else reading. I've realised I'm offering some really, really personal info here and will need to be careful not to reveal anything oathbound so bear with if it's not entirely clear. Essay post incoming...

So, I am in a druid tradition that works with the four elements, and as part of my training I've been on a journey through said elements. I was really looking forward to getting to fire because I thought I had an affinity with it. I've always seen myself as passionate, driven, a person of action. (One of Bane's epithets is He Who Takes Action) Fiery traits!

When I got there, I found that all the fire rituals were centred around a Goddess who I'd had trouble working with before. She's a big figure in Celtic Paganism but she'd just never seemed interested in me. When I tried to work with fire, tried to ask for her blessing, I had several rituals go wrong. Fire refusing to light, feeling nothing, being unable to concentrate, even a particularly nasty fall that involved a lot of blood that could have just been coincidence, but the timing was auspicious. Finally, I had an outright rejection. During meditation in one of these rituals, I felt freezing cold even though the room was warm and I had a literal fire in front of me, and I heard the words "the cold flame only, is meant for you". This really disturbed me, and I felt really quite despondent until I remembered where I'd felt this feeling before. 1) When I was a child and, despite being very quiet and trying not to attract trouble, I started a fight with a group of girls to make them leave a girl they were bullying alone. 2) When I made a formal complaint against someone who was mentoring us in a university competition for his sexism and harassment to prevent it happening to anyone else. 3) When I left the ex that isolated, manipulated and used me and when I chose myself despite the threats he made. Even though it had come with rejection this time, it had always been present when I'd done good things. Things that required strength and backbone and confidence. When I did these things and felt this cold energy I felt like I moved beyond fear to a cold certainty, like there was no option of not doing the thing. It had to be done and I was the only one capable of doing it. That is where Tav's experience of Bane as cold inevitability comes from. So much of the feeling and texture of ritual and spiritual experience in the fic is drawn from my real life. In terms of my own story, somewhere I'd gotten the idea that this Goddess' rejection of me was because I "belonged" to another reflection of the Goddess, a darker epithet. I can't find where this idea came from, but I make reference to it in my journal entry about the cold flame. I eventually found this Goddess (painfully obvious once I did, but it was a search) and she offered me transformation, both physically and mentally. I'm partially growing my hair as a devotional act, and Tav's hair acts as a symbol of her connection to Bane. In devotion to her I have become more confident, more truthful, more able to put myself first. She's not evil, but she's not kind in her myth, and she is seen as a dark mother archetype. She has also contributed towards the apathy I've been feeling in regards to living by my values as she's told me multiple times, in meditation, in reading, that selfishness is fine. And I have no idea how to feel about that, because my spirituality was such a driver of my environmentalism. So she's given me personal power, but in that process eroded my values. I think the comparison there is evident. Obviously what's happening to Tav is both extreme and evil and that is not happening to me, but taking it to those extremes in fiction is a way I can explore my experiences and feelings and also I get to write about fucking Enver Gortash so that's good too.

Yours in the Mysteries of the Gods, Crystal

[vigilskeep]

59, 61, and 66 for minerva?

59. what’s an element of their philosophy that you disagree with?

oh, boy, a fair bit. i think it’s pretty obvious that i disagree with her pro-circle or at least circle-tolerant stance at the beginning of the game. more generally, i think her capacity to be dismissive and even cruel to those less capable than her is one of her worst traits, and interpersonally she cares far more abt doing what she thinks is best for people than what they want or what would make them happy

61. is there an in-game moment of theirs you think about and just laugh?

i think this entire blog is testament to such moments so i’m trying to think of one i haven’t mentioned. i still think abt when she was deadly serious and painfully polite for her whole origin and then she met her brother’s girlfriend and simply could not stop bullying him abt it. cain instinct always outweighs lifetime of brainwashing. i still can’t get over “my condolences, lily”

66. which fruit do they like most?

zevran.

AGSHSJSKK sorry um she has a very sweet tooth and she would really like mango if she could get it

[aotopmha]

If you do all the sidequests and look up the lyrics of "Moongazing" it's very obvious that Clive survived. Metia goes out at the end because Jill's prologue wish came true, Clive was returned safely to her. That's why she smiles. "I realized that, no matter how terrible the night, dawn will always come. You will always come for me." The dawn came, Clive returned to Jill.

Yeah, at a point I skipped the side quests, but I do plan on going back and checking them out and people have been telling me this.

But I believe y'all.

I hate stories that play with death like this (and I adore FF14, which also has issues with death).

To elaborate on my issues with the thematic core of the story: Joshua surviving was on really shaky ground from the moment it was revealed he survived.

In fact, it is pretty much the central thematic element to Clive's character.

I think the Ifrit battle is absolutely fantastic character work and it's all based on the fact that Clive killed Joshua. But I gave Joshua surviving a pass because he is the Pheonix and Clive still had to put in the work to overcome his trauma.

If Joshua is alive, all of that struggle IS softened because well, the object of grief, Joshua, is alive.

And if Clive is alive, that revival has no cost whatsoever. He just defied death with no consequence whatsoever.

And this wouldn't even be this big of an issue if it also wasn't part of the thematic core of the story that life is suffering, but we move on regardless.

If Clive can get his brother back by just crying and wishing really hard and Jill can get Clive back just by wishing really hard, what was that entire talk about accepting humanity's suffering and accepting humanity's flaws?

What is the measure of suffering?

Clive and Joshua have been through a lot more than just losing each other.

Their father is dead, Clive was a slave for 13 years and being a Dominant was especially painful for Joshua.

Cid still died.

But aside from Joshua, Wade lived, Torgal lived, Ambrosia lived. Jill lived. Clive basically was handed almost everything back by the narrative.

The suffering he felt is obviously valid and character growth comes from a real place.

And the setup for the survivals is valid, too.

Metia has been there since the very first cutscenes. Ambrosia, Wade, Torgal and Jill were all off screen enough to believe it.

And we see the flaws of humanity in other strong ways.

Clive gained the power of a literal God. Of course he could revive Joshua.

But this is all stuck in the execution of the writing.

Joshua already lived to begin with. I think he just could not have had that fake death.

While Ultima is a god, it has been established Pheonix Downs actually can't bring back the dead. Throughout the series, they heal from unconsciousness.

And I even cried at that scene!

What was all that about not stooping on the level of an arrogant God? Nope, here, have all the dead back because you prayed hard enough.

And Jill went through some shit, too.

It's not like all of the *feelings* were undone.

But that 10 minutes at the end undermines the strongest themes really hard, even if it "makes sense".

It's so frustrating.

And I'd even give it an easier pass if Barnabas or Ultima were interesting characters, but I thought they were painfully one-note with maybe good ideas buried in there.

The final battle was mostly just repeating old character beats with less nuance and depth.

If Clive truly is as definitevely alive as the side quests imply, what can they do to fix the thematic substance?

This is like the most basic writing mistake *the first Pokemon movie* made.

So many stories do this.

Writing advice:

Don't fucking write a story about loss if you don't fucking want to kill characters. Depicting death and then undoing it is horrible for the sense of danger and reread value of the story, rather than an easy way to produce it.

There's plenty of other powerful themes to explore that don't involve death or simply have it at the periphery.

Not wanting to hurt your characters can still yield meaningful stories. (All you need is simply *some sort* of interesting conflict.)

I think the story simply would be so much stronger if either Joshua or Clive (or both) stayed dead.

But if they don't, I at least want some consequence to *literally reviving the dead*.

(I guess some can take comfort from that fantasy, but I can't because that's just not how people work.)

As I said above, if Joshua wasn't fake-killed to begin with, this entire thing would already be better, too. Because Clive wouldn't need to revive the dead. Let both of them fuse into the Ifrit fusion, share the destruction of the crystal and let them survive it and you've got an actual, even if loose, satisfying happy ending.

So what can potential DLC do to fix this mess?

I'm still keeping the possibility of Clive's death in here, as obvious as his survival might be from side quests.

- Maybe even if Clive lived, he's still somehow stuck in his mind or not entirely "saved" and this time Jill and Joshua have to work to truly save him. Would at least lead to some consequence for playing god and reviving dead people.

- If Clive died, maybe Jill and older Joshua could be playable, become heroes in their own right and work through their trauma. Grieving, but remembering him.

There's still plenty of summons to make into boss battles/playable.

That or they just make it an addition to main story because all of the magic IS gone after Ultima and there's no additional epilogue material.

Thank you for the ask!

[they-who-hjonketh]

Fennec Quinn

Pic 1 : ✨Cunning and Stunning✨ | @jadenite Pic 2 : Shady | AlenaGAdams I commissioned this artist through Etsy and there shop has been removed. I have been trying to find their socials/ways to contact them so if you recognize them please DM me! The only thing I can find up is their fiverr so I tagged that on the photo Pic 3 : Ice Princess | @basedmoniart Pic 4 : Cozy | MAGUREIISAN

Fennec has been an ever evolving character since her conception over 10 years ago. In many ways, this character has grown up with me - her character arc evolving into things much more mature as I grew, her motivations shifting as my own ideals were challenged, and her flaws being handled with much more care and respect as I came to find comfort in her imperfection.

Originally she was an OC that would occasionally feature in embarrassing middle school fanfictions - a complete Mary Sue who was every bit as obnoxious as I was. Then she became the center of an elaborate fantasy tale that I continue to write for nobody's consumption but my own. And eventually, through a fateful invitation to play Dungeons & Dragons with two coworkers and a friend of a friend she became my first D&D character.

✨Cunning and Stunning✨

This portrait is how I picture her in my fantasy novel. She wears flowers in her hair that match her twins crown as a show of solidarity. Technically the crown belongs to her - a symbol to indicate her birth right into the Monarchy and her ability to manipulate more than a single element - but she's always hated authority and had no desire to sit on a throne. She gave her crown to her twin, who is only First Rank, as a protest to power based labelling, knowing full well Zedran belongs in politics much more than she does.

The sweater she's wearing belongs to their Head of Calvary, Aries Astro. She's consistently stealing his clothes, much to his and her father's protest.

Shady

This was the first commission I ever got of Fen and was for the start of our D&D campaign. A large part of her story pre-RPG includes an unexpected companion who finds himself as her shadow. I had to rethink of her in D&D terms, and my DM was gracious enough to incorporate a lot of my ideas.

This was the birth of her as a shadow sorceress raised in a thieves guild, a vastly different beginning than her former royal upbringing in the land of the fae.

Her personality transferred between the mediums, though she was much more solitary here than I had intended, and some of that self-isolation eventually trickled it's way back to the source. I find my current version of Fennec to be sometimes painfully independent, in large part to the events in this campaign.

Ice Princess

This commission was from a portion of our campaign that the setting just really resonated with me. I loved the imagery of sailing on the frozen sea, plus she had recently gotten her furry companion, Omen, based on my own cat Buri. Her shadowy companion remains just a silly little guy, every watchful, and thankfully, not fighting for control in this moment.

Cozy

There was a while I had tinkered with coercion being a prominent ability among the fae. Specifically, the fae being able to control their human companions through verbal command. I had toyed with the idea of Fen having an amplified version of the ability, being able to coerce even her fellow fae folk, and what punishments for such a thing might include. The most obvious solution was a muzzle, and for a while there were iterations of Fen that had been entirely mute - muzzled since the first time she had exuded power over a fellow royal. Ultimately, I abandoned the idea, figuring the elemental abilities to already be a lot.

This commission was supposed to be a muzzled version of Fen once she had made it into the human realm.

I do still like this train of thought, I'm just not sure where, when, and how I may fit it into my stories.

[heartsdafne]

'Is there a purpose to the mask having six eyes? And the sigil?' Fuck, Dafne thought. She shouldn't have said that. Her eyes were still glued to the screens of the surveillance room, and she hadn't tore them from there ever since she had opened her mouth to speak. Now, Vessel would know just how much attention she was actually paying to him, going as far as to memorize each and every detail of the mask that was hiding what she had once considered to be the most beautiful face on this Earth. She could still see each and every one of his features, engraved on her mind.

There were few things she could always conjure, and the image of him laying beneath her with that half-smile... It never really left her, did it?

'A container for what?' She had fucked up once, so she might as well keep doing it. No point pretending she didn't care, not any longer. Vessel had always been a... spiritual man, for the lack of a better term, but this felt like it was too much, even for him. 'Who are you hiding from... Vessel?' She thought about calling him by his true name, but no. The moment his name escaped her lips the soldiers around her heart, which were nothing but a sorry excuse for an army, would leave their post and simply let him in. And she couldn't bear the pain of losing him again. They said the second, third, fourth time you lost someone hurt less, but she was sure it was the opposite, because there was a secret element in play; hope. The hope that things would get solved, that everything could be like it was before, that they would go back to laughing together, to sharing endless conversations, to telling the other person absolutely everything about their day, even the most irrelevant details... it was like participating in a game one knew they would never win.

There was almost a smile at his next words. Almost, but not quite. Someone watching her intently, however, could see the corners of her mouth curving slightly upwards, her half-lidded eyes and the way she shook her head. She had found it funny, but she didn't want to laugh. Dafne couldn't allow him to have that power. She was his prey, yes, but she wouldn't go willingly. Had she been the same girl he had once met and loved, her cheeks would have burned at the veiled compliment. Now, that was everything she could offer him. Still, just the fact that he had said it... 'I don't think anybody would complain about seeing you sporting nothing but swimwear.' A teasing tone, her body leaning slightly towards him, turning in his direction. No, no, no, no... thoughts swarming in her head like angry bees, silenced by a single yes. Whoever it was that said the affirmative didn't have to shout, their voice commanding enough without the need to raise it. 'I do think it would work for you.' She eyed him up and down. Yes, he was hiding his face, but he was baring everything else, and one thing was painfully obvious: he hadn't let himself go.

And she was still attracted to him, like a winged insect to a funeral pyre.

'Yes, that's what I'm...' Annoyance still bleeding into her every word, as well as boredom. Until she realized, stopping mid-sentence. Was that a hint of jealousy in Vessel's words? She raised a black eyebrow, violet eyes examining his mask, wishing she could stand up and rip it off his face, read his expression... because then she would have known for sure. Either way, her lips twisted into an uneven, cheeky smile, as she tapped the table's surface with long nails, one finger at a time. 'Are you jealous, Vessel? Is that what this is?'

However, she was not in the mood to torture him. Not now, not after so many years of not knowing whether the other person was dead or alive (although, Dafne was sure that if something were to happen to him, she would know), so many memories, so many feelings. She hadn't been able to sleep that night, every time she closed her eyes, the images of everything they had lived together occupying even the darkest corners of her mind. Of course, he didn't wear a mask back them. Of course, his body was not painted black. What had happened, after she left, that had turned him into... this? She wouldn't ask. But the question was always there, in the air between them.

'I'm watching him for Mira. He asks too many questions.' She turned her body to watch the screens, looking for the scrawny-looking person she had to keep her eye on. When she found him, she pointed at the screen, completely uninterested. There he was, talking to some short-haired girl by the pool.

'I don't know. You tell me. You have been here longer than me,' Was her answer to his next words, but she pressed her lips together, forming a fine line, deep in thought. After some consideration, she finally kept speaking. 'I guess it is weird. But if you don't know the reason behind it... you are a face card, I'm merely a dealer. They don't tell me anything.' Resignation, now. Scrunched up nose in disgust. How she wanted to know the secrets of this place... but she was patient. She knew she would find out eventually.

Silence overcame them, once again. Cold silence, like winter, like a corpse. Not the comfortable ones they had shared years ago, after passionate nights in which they bared body and soul to the other person. How things could change in the span of a heartbeat. Dafne's body tensed when she saw him taking a seat next to her, but... she didn't own this place. He could do whatever he wanted. Telling him to go away or even standing up and leaving herself would be proving to her that she still cared, and that she cared too much.

She did, however, clench her jaw when she felt his arm touching her. Her eyes might have been purple, but inside, there was only blue. God, she missed him. She could admit it to herself, but not to him. It was useless longing for more, when there was nothing else he could offer, there hadn't been then and... there was even less of it now. 'Careful, I don't want to be stained with paint.' She didn't care. She wished he would just take her into his arms and kiss her, deaf ears to her unkind words.

Minutes passed, and she couldn't bear it anymore. 'Why the outfit?' Words escaped from her before rational thought settled in her mind.

[harrowscore]

sooooo, yesterday i watched hotd s1 finale. here are my (semi-coherent) thoughts:

i've had one (1) day to simmer down my instinctive "wtf??" reaction and ponder on some writing choices - actually, two notable writing choices. first, this is no got s8 levels of disaster, but i'd already noticed a couple of red flags in ep9 and so i was - i am - guarded, though my emotional investment is nowhere near as high as my peak asoiaf/got era. i'm way more detached, and if i came off as pissed in some prev posts it was more of a general 🤷🤷 feeling concerning old disappointments in correlated or different media. (having said that, the larys/alicent feet thing is atrocious.)

i see they're still going strong with the childbirth from hell saga - i've already written about it in an older post, and i quite liked it, however gory and heartbreaking it was.

i don't buy the daemyra choking (not in a kinky way) scene. there's nowhere near enough build up for that. yes, daemon killed his first wife (which btw wasn't in the book) but they hated each other and she wasn't a targ. from d. pov's that's quite an important detail. (not that i’m excusing it, you know.) i don't even buy that "he's grieving that's why he acts (more) irrationally and with 0 impulse control (than usual)" because while he's ready for war and legitimately angry at the thought of his brother being murdered (tho viserys had been rotting away for years, last time they saw each other he could barely stand/talk, it was only a matter of weeks, maybe a couple of months at best before he died, they should have been prepared for this & the greens response) he doesn't act that out of control. let's be honest here: daemyra was always problematic and people shouting ~grooming! weren't completely wrong, but the writers also sold it as High Romance. the Stupid Fangirls weren't that blinded by their silly girly brains: d&r were framed as being genuinely in love despite the painfully obvious problematic elements. (& the incest is the least problematic thing here, since this is westeros and they're targs.) i think one of the directors even compared their love to what she feels for her own husband. so no, we weren't dreaming it up, they just couldn't find a balance between Toxic Incest Couple & Soulmates Being Soulmates, and obv they had to put a ~Bad Man is Very Bad, Girlies, Don't Try At Home~ bs Morality Play that seems so damn popular in this day and age. mind you, we all knew shit was going to hit the fan with nettles' appearance (i'm still worried about her portrayal, she's just a young girl and daemon is so much older than her, and i have no idea how they’re going to develop/frame their relationship) but somehow i had not foreseen him being physically abusive to his wife (who just gave birth to their stillborn daughter and lost her father btw). i was expecting him to lash out but... not like this. after their (fabulous ngl) wedding i haven't been much invested in daemyra anyway (i thought their decades long budding romance was much more appealing) but despite what i said above, one thing d/r fans were wrong about was expecting that hbo could actually make a medieval fantasy wuthering heights 2.0 and deliver lmao. no mainstream media would do that, not in the current ~think of the girls!!! climate. this is like believing that the star wars sequels were a gothic female-gazey romance that featured rey's sexual awakening + happy ending with the local parricidal ex darksider - the romance was there, don't get me wrong, but no hollywood-made pop culture piece of media could ever deliver. we also know d/r history from f&b, it's not all sunshine and rainbows... tho it's not comparable to jaime&cersei either. this is no valonqar situation - if and when that happens in asoiaf, motives and characters can't be compared only because d. and jaime share a love for poor impulse control and incest; the framing for their ~love affair and the choking act is also radically different. this feels like a punishment for the girls who tend to romanticize daemon and his feelings for his niece, as a "sharp reminder" of who he is and what is capable of (and that women, even dragon queens who are more than mere consorts and childbearers, can be victimized and have shitty husbands ig). except that however awful and poor little meow meow he may be, he didn't do any of this marital abuse bs in the book as far as we know. which brings me to:

i have a small problem with the people who say "f&b is no real account of the dance, these characters can't be written as ooc because we basically don't know them! it's all headcanons and bias!". theoretically i agree: there are at least 3 different versions of any major event, and what intrigued me the most about this show was the premise of Unreliable Narrator Extraordinaire. which path would these writers follow? because logically one should also say: "is this what really happened in the dance?" like, aren't these people (hired by hbo, paid a shitton of money, apparently asoiaf fans themselves) also writing down their own interpretations? unless grrm himself is behind everything (foot fetish and wife-choking included) who are these people to say this is what actually happened? they didn't create the characters and the plot etc., we're seeing them through their eyes and bias as well. why are the Poor Naive Girls who romanticized the Bad Dark Prince (aka they knew he was a big asshole but didn't think he had it in him to actually assault the woman he loves) the ones to be so awfully biased and affected by media illiteracy, to the point i’ve already seen the usual crowd online gloating over it like “ha ha the bitches had it coming”? one could say this is just another version of the dance... which would actually be more compelling imo. this also brings me to:

grandma vhagar being nostalgic of her war crimes era and gnam gnam lucerys to the oblivion. i have... very mixed feelings about this. i agree that making aemond more than an evil cackling anime villain is a good choice but idk about this tbh. idk how they could have spin it differently either tho, so i give up. people say "at least he doesn't actively seek war out so he doesn't look like an idiot" except he looks like an even bigger idiot because no one in their right mind would chase down their four-and-ten nephew and his dragon (said to be “five times smaller” than vhagar) through the sky while they're riding a huge ass fucking beast that could dwarf a mountain and actually fought in the conquest just to pick out his eye, and not expect it to horribly escalate. like, if you make two dragons face each other (especially if one of them is as powerful and ancient as vhagar is) what do you think is going to happen? realistically, i mean? maybe aemond didn't want to go that far but omg he should have foreseen this from a mile. like, sweetie maybe you didn't study your history and lore so well. and for the "he's just a teenager he doesn't know what he's doing" crowd: in a short span of time this ~poor baby~ is going to burn down the riverlands, hundreds of people will die. the incident that sparks the dance being an actual accident, tho... lmao sorry but that sounds like a joke. like, no matter how you spin it, if you like or love or hate it, it still robs the character of his agency, and therefore the story of poignancy. and i'm not even 100% sold on ~the dragons randomly eating people alive even when their riders strictly forbid them too~ because yeah, i can see that, a dragon is no slave and of course they're not mindless beasts but actually quite intelligent etc. but on the other hand i for one can't wait for drogon to fire up kl of his own free will - maybe he'll just hate that fugly city, who knows - so that ~dany (aka an actual 16 year old victim of rape and abuse who liberated thousands of slaves in a continent she was exiled to as an infant) is going to burn children alive and be put down like a mad bitch because that's somehow comparable to lotr shire chapter!!1~ disk horse can finally die its miserable death.

so, yeah, mixed feelings about these two (2) plot points, particularly the ~daemon is physically abusive now~ thing. also dk about whitewashing the blacks anymore, rhaenys killed a fuck ton of civilians in ep9 for no conceivable reason (something that in the books and in peaceful times only the worst of the worst are willing to do, no matter how much these elite assholes don’t care about the smallfolk) and now daemon is even more evil than he was in the book. aegon ii may be... well, aegon ii, but with aemond being somehow more humane and whatever they're doing to alicent the blacks are the ones that actually wreak more havoc - and i’m not even touching the blood and cheese thing. at least aemond's fuck-up kinslaying was accidental lol. jokes aside i overall liked this ep more than i did ep9 and while it’s not bad bad... no mistake, this is no high television either. i’ve seen what great tv can do (it’s exceptionally rare tho, more than people think) and this doesn’t look like it except for some acting choices + scenes.