#how i wish i had more time so i could finish everything but alas

[wintertundra-art]

guys would you hate me if I posted the arts separately and then all together with the original thing I had planned????

[jellykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Entry : 054 - Lovesick! Sung Jinwoo x Fem! Reader: Isekaing to the world of your favourite protagonist, but nothing is ever a coincidence. ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

‼️[tw: Manipulation, Murder, Death, Yandere depictions, Implied assault but not executed, a darker Jinwoo overall. Also Kyunnie lowkey rambling ....]‼️

╰┈➤ ❝ [ He Would Find You No Matter How Long It Takes, And Once He Has You In His Arms— You're Never Leaving] ¡! ❞

You died from an accident in the streets, well, not really an accident. Some drunk bastard was stumbling across the desolate street you normally take to go home— But poor you as that faithful meeting lead to your murder.

The paramedics tried everything they could to save you, but alas, you were dead on arrival.

That's what you suspect atleast. After losing so much blood from the multiple stab wounds of course that would be your death.

Dying was such a cold, cold feeling. It felt terrible. But what were your last thoughts?

You only thought of a single person only: Sung Jinwoo, the protagonist that you were madly in love with.

That man died three times or more if you count regression as a form of death. You thought of what he must have felt in his first death was similar to yours. How his feeble body sprawled on the altar with his leg cut off and his arm mostly torn off— It must have been terrible for Jinwoo.

Back then, you can only speculate. But now? Now you knew what he felt as he dies.

The only regret you have was not finishing the manhwa for the fifth time of the week.

But then you suddenly shot up, and when you did, you were met with a kind smile from a nurse, telling you that you passed out while doing a raid in an E-ranked gate from overexhaustion.

E-rank? Gate? What?

You were livid, feeling absolutely dizzy as you tried to ask the nurse. So you feigned temporary memory loss and asked the nurse what happened and why you're here.

As she had said, you passed out from raiding an E-ranked gate because of fatigue. You yourself, are a hunter, an E-ranked one.

The laughable rank your beloved once had.

You tried to wrap your head around it, tried to make sense of it all that you must be in purgatory, that this was all an illusion after death and the gods just had mercy on you and granted you your truest wish.

You tried to sleep it off, tried to bang your head to get you out of this illusion. But everything was real. You did normal human activities, and every pinch of a needle pricked onto your skin hurt like the way it did when you were alive.

You are alive

You didn't know whether to cry or laugh, you were in a world similar to Jinwoo's.

Jinwoo?

"Hello, are you alright?" A kind voice asks you out of nowhere, pulling you out of your daze. "Ah, I thought you passed out while awake!"

A boyish almost childlike face, pretty and cute with unkept fluffy hair that has grown too much and has a weird sort of mushroom-like appearance. Wide, innocent, puppy-like grey eyes full of wonder and life.

You knew that color of grey, that lovely shade that has placed you in a complete rampage of obsession and love.

"I'm Jinwoo, nice to meet you" He stretches his hand out to you, offering a friendly shake.

You accept his hand, trembling as you do so but he doesn't seem to notice as he shakes your hand so kindly while you shakily state your name to him.

Calloused, his hands were calloused.

He then sits down on the empty spot beside you, chatting you up.

Your heart was pounding like crazy as you two talked, you were for sure about to pass out anytime from the overflowing euphoria filling you up.

You don't know how you survived the conversation. But somehow you did.

And Jinwoo himself even offered that you two should team up as E-ranked hunters.

Ecstatic, of course you were, you were so joyous you jumped in bed and rolled around like a madman.

Jinwoo was here. Your Jinwoo.

Your Jinwoo before his ascension as a monarch, your Jinwoo that is still childish and soft.

You loved teaming up with him.

But something was weird.

Already, he had exceptional knife skills, his expertise with using a dagger was too good. Too uncharacteristic of the Jinwoo you know in his earliest days. Is his puberty coming a bit too early?...

That's just it,

,... Right?

Surely it is.

It's not weird that Jinwoo is extremely flexible and fast, that he is sharp and seemingly has such an advanced spatial awareness, that he easily cuts through the hard skins of various monsters.

...Really.

It's not weird at all.

꒰ .... ꒱

It's another hunting day where you accompany Jinwoo yet again in a raid. But this time he seemed a bit more guarded against the raid team you both had signed in for just to experience a higher ranked gate.

"Stay close to me, yeah?" Jinwoo leans down, smiling gently at you that made you forget the chilling expression he had just a second ago.

"S-sure?" You smile awkwardly, growing bashful at his distance.

Why is he a bit antsy anyway? The team you both signed up for isn't the Hwang.... Hwang dong.... Who?

The team of Hwang Dongsoo's brother? That bald headed bastard's family? Ah... You can't really recall his name.

Dead men don't matter anyway.

The only thing you really remember was how hot he was when he ultimately lost his mind momentarily and became absolutely ruthless.

To this you mourn the lack of psychotic Jinwoo in the manhwa.

Do they not see the potential?

This man has the temper and charisma to pull off a serial killer vibe.

So why not?

Why the hell not?!

"!!!"

Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted when Jinwoo suddenly placed him in between you and the approaching hunter who had a displeased look on his face after what he did.

"I'm only trying to check on the little miss" The hunter smiles wryly, but Jinwoo was unmoving.

"Really now?" He remarks, his tone sneering even. "Does that involve you luring us into this isolated part of the dungeon with your team surrounding the exits? Sure."

"Ah you're no fun buddy!~" The hunter laughs, patting his shoulder to try and get Jinwoo to relax. "It's just us here, why not have a little fun? She's a pretty one."

Oh right.

Being a hunter is dangerous.

But what had always been dangerous in the first place?

Being a woman.

Ever since society recovered from the shock of the gates arriving— There is a significant uptake in death counts, crime rates, and missing people mia after entering a gate.

And what is the gender of 70% of those missing people?

Women.

If one wanted to do a crime, the best way to do it is in a gate. Rumours spread that disgusting fiends would lure women with a promise of a hefty sum by a small hunting group.

After that? All the women seemingly disappear.

And with the lack of a body and evidence to imply malpractice in the dungeons— What can the law do?

Nothing.

Dead corpses dont talk.

And as the hand reached out over Jinwoo's shoulder towards you—

It suddenly flew off with a swish

The severed limb took it's sweet time floating on the air before plopping on the floor with a wet splotch.

"...."

Everyones gazes were locked on the motionless hand on the floor before a bloody scream rang out from the C-ranked hunter.

"Y-you!" He sobs, gripping his empty wrist as it sheds a copious amount of blood. "I was nice to you by hiring you useless E-rankers and this is how you repay me?!"

He then turns to the rest of the members who were left frozen, "What the fuck are you bastards doing standing there? GET HIS FUCKING HEAD."

"It's always bastards like you who pull this kind of bullshit off" Jinwoo sighs, as if the whole situation right now is troublesome for him as a dagger materializes into his hand.

It was gleaming a mad crimson, as if the blade itself was made of a bloody moon's fragments.

Kamish's Wrath.

Daggers gifted to him by Thomas Andre as an apology for the trouble Hwang Dongsoo and the overall situation they were on. A symbol of peace between them and a sign of friendship between them.

He isn't supposed to be having those until later.

Unless The Jinwoo in front of you isn't the E-ranked Jinwoo who is slteadily climbing the levels at a rapid fast.

Jinwoo's blade seems like it's merely flying with how fast he is moving. Everytime he moves he just tilts his body a little for them to miss him narrowly.

And while everyone else is screaming in frustration, Jinwoo just throws them a sly smile, as if he is reveling in messing with them.

It was obvious he was teasing them, making them overly frustrated where they want to hit him but can't quite reach him at the way he expertly dodges them narrowly.

And when he's already bored of them?

He slices their limbs one by one and letting them bleed to death on the floor.

By the end of it Jinwoo is standing atop a pool of blood with crimson splatters sliding enticingly down his handsome features.

Whoever said Jinwoo isn't charming even in his baby-faced era must be blind.

Because even in the lack of his significant height, even when his cheeks are a bit chubbier, even if his eyes are a bit rounder and that his build is nothing more than bone and flesh— He has this haunting beauty to him that makes him look like a mischievous fae about to drag you into the abyss he calls his home.

"Do you understand now?" Jinwoo asks, his blank and empty grey eyes looking down on you as he lefts you cheek with his calloused hand. "Why I told you to quit being a hunter before?"

"I-I..." You sputter, unable to find the words from the shock of seeing your beloved murder people live in front of you.

"I'll get a rank evaluation after a month as soon as I fix this blasted body" He said, pressing his forehead against yours. "You're scared, aren't you? If I wasn't here, what could've happen to you?"

"....."

He's right.

What would've happen if Jinwoo isn't here? What would've happen if Jinwoo lets that man's hand go over to you?

The vision of it makes you falter, tears prickling your face as it slowly sunk in— That the only thing awaited you was unspeakable horrors had he not step in.

"Sssh..." He comforts you sweetly, pulling you into his arms and kissing the top of your head. "You must have been scared, hm? I know, I know. I took care of it, didn't I? Don't be scared anymore."

You don't have to know the fact that he orchestrated all of this.

That Jinwoo himself is the reason why you died and was brought to this cursed world.

That he was well aware of what the hunters have been pulling off whenever they sign contracts with women.

He just wanted to scare you a little, really.

What better method can he do to make you reliant on him?

To make you extremely dependent on him and paranoid of him not being there?

The world of hunters is a cruel and unforgiving world.

He knows that himself.

Jinwoo isn't blind to any of the darker side of this path you both choose to thread on.

Except that right now his intention is to make you too scared of ever stepping into a gate.

That the thought of ever stepping into one makes you shiver into cold sweats and becoming sick at the mere thought of it.

And if this plan doesn't shake you enough?

Then he'll just do it again.

Shake you to the core, make you have a glimpse of hell and then swoop in the second he sees you frightened enough.

You'll be in his arms, weeping and completely afraid.

And he would drill it himself in your head:

You only need Jinwoo.

Just like right now, where you're too shaken to even process the fact the timeline is all wrong. That somehow the Jinwoo in front of you right now already has two hearts with the beat of two organs in his chest. One heart belongs to him, the other belongs to the late Ashborn who chose him as his heir.

Nothing is making sense right now, but you're stuck sobbing in his arms and seeking for solace and safety.

"We'll have to pretend to be hurt when we go out, hm?" Jinwoo lifts your face up with the palms of his warm hands, his expression hauntingly saintly despite the muddled color of grey in his lovely eyes. "Can you do that for me?"

You nod, sniffling, earning yourself a kiss on the forehead as a reward for your obedience.

"Good girl."

꒰ 🪼 A/N: What better way to start off my 2025 with a Lovesick Sung Jinwoo fic? Hahah, my beloved<3. No matter who I put into my extensive list of sweethearts Jinwoo will always be on top of everybody else! I love him it's unhealthy. I might make a lads post after this or a wholesome sylus fic that has been brewing in my mind for a bit? I wanna branch out more when it comes to my fics wwww!!! So aside from Hsr there will be the lads boys. ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧: ~ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[d-emeter]

Breakfast, lunch and dinner (or: cod characters and how they eat you out) — plus-size!fem!reader x cod characters

Includes: Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, König, Graves, Alejandro, Rudy, Valeria

Note: take this as my formal apology for being inactive for so long :') exam week had me hanging on by a thread and i'm also suddenly moving so. yay. expect some more action after like... this week i hope

John Price

Listen. Getting eaten out by Captain Price is not, in any way, meant for your pleasure. No, this is him disciplining you. It hardly even matters what for. Maybe you have been teasing him, sliding your hand up his thigh under the table, rubbing your ass against him while passing by him. Maybe you've been a brat all day, complaining and huffing and puffing about everything, barely listening to any of John's requests and/or demands. Either way, sit on his desk and spread your fucking legs, doll. He'll be edging you for what feels like hours, tongue moving so torturously slow that all coherent thought has seeped from your brain aside from how badly you want to cum. Too bad, bad girls don't deserve to finish this easily.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

With Simon, it's always a surprise what position you'll end up in. The only certainty you have is that it's definitely not what you'd expect, and sometimes you wish that for once he'd just lay you down and get busy. But alas, he'll have you kneeling with your face in the pillows, or bent over the back of the couch. Maybe he'll have you hanging off the edge of the bed so all the blood flows to your already overheating brain. You're clinging onto whatever you can get a hold on, mostly in pleasure, and sometimes in fear of falling when he has you up on his shoulders and leaned against the wall. Well, he doesn't exactly hear your complaining over your moans and whimpers, he argues, and he wouldn't dream of dropping you.

Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish

As with Price, this has little to do with your pleasure: it's all for his own benefit. Please, lass, he loves your cunt, and she loves him, doesn't she? Come on, let him have a taste. He could give two shits about where you are or how convenient it is— if he wants to lick your pussy, he's going to. He's down on his knees while you're desperately clinging onto the kitchen counter, or the shower wall, or the shelves of your pantry. Hell, you'd have to hope and pray a sales associate won't come by your changing room in fear of them hearing all of his moans. Oh, and you quickly find out you cannot wear a skirt around him, because it won't come down from your hips if he has any say in it.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

He's devastatingly methodical. He knows your body better than you do at this point, and he's not afraid to use this to his advantage. He can work you just right, but the worst part is that he will refuse to. Unless you kindly ask him for it, that is. Tsk, pretty girl, use your words. Let him know where you need him, what you need him to do. He's hovering close enough that you can feel his breath on your neglected clit, your cunt clenching around nothing in desperate search for friction of any kind, but he won't do anything until you tell him in excruciating detail what you want. And be aware, any time you stop talking, he's pulling away in a second.

König

Oh, König... Sweet, wet-rag-of-a-man loser that he is, will completely lose his mind any time you allow him near your pussy. He can practically feel his brain melting while he's drowning himself in your slick, and he looks like it too. His eyes have rolled back, face flushed and his eyebrows scrunched in pure, unadulterated pleasure. His body has turned to complete mush, his cock leaking against the sheets and hands clawing onto any part of your body he can reach (which, with his arms, is basically everywhere). Unintelligible mumbles made into your cunt, teetering the edge between praise and begging. He is a little inexperienced, Schatz, so you'll have to show him how you like it. Shove his face between your folds and ride his nose, and you'll have him moaning like a bitch in heat. When he finally comes back up for air you can tell you're not the only one that reached heaven just now.

Philip Graves

I'm going to speak my truth here, he does not strike me as the kind of man to give you oral all that much. I am SORRY, but it's true. He usually prefers to get you nice and ready for him with his fingers, or by having you ride his thigh, or simply from the absolute filth he spews into your ear while dry-humping. However, on the odd occasion that Phil does get down and dirty, he aims to make it special. It's strangely sentimental, actually. It'd be outside on a picnic blanket after his homecoming, or in your shared bed after your anniversary dinner. Anything that reminds him how much he loves you, and how much you mean to him, and he's going to show you with his tongue. There's reverence in every suck, praise in every lick and prayer in every word he murmers into your core. You're his goddess and he's just here to worship you, baby.

Alejandro Vargas

For Ale, it'd be a form of gratuity much in the same way it is for Graves, though the difference is that he'll use that as an excuse even for the most menial things. His belly nice and full after your homecooked dinner, grin on his face and asking when his dessert is being served. You've been so good to him, amor, welcoming him home with a smile and a kiss and a plate waiting for him, now let him thank you properly. You fixed the button on his shirt that had fallen off? Well, put it on and lay yourself down, time to lap at your cunt in thanks. It's gotten to a point where you're convinced he just decided his goal in life is to pull as many orgasms from you as possible. Not that you're complaining, of course.

Rodolfo 'Rudy' Parras

Eating you out is, in many ways, a means to an end for Rudy. He wants to make sure you're properly prepped and ready to take his cock, so it's almost instinctual for him to bury his face between your soft thighs for a while before inching himself into you. It's part of the routine, the way he thought sex was supposed to go. It's not until you explain to him that it can actually be the main event, and that you'd thoroughly enjoy it if he maybe put in a little more effort, that it dawns on him just how much he can actually do down there and how much time he's wasted not doing it. Now, tesoro, you may have shot yourself in the foot with that one, because he now can keep you pinned down for hours, just suckling away at your clit and fucking you on his tongue, dumb grin on his face after your fifth orgasm renders you basically comatose.

Valeria Garza

The only way Valeria will actually relax for once is with your pussy in her face. Seriously, you've tried everything else: lavender baths, deep tissue massages, even trying to get her to meditate. But no, the only time you actually see her shoulders lose all their tension is when she's between your folds. She's had such a long day, vida, come sit on her face. She's not even groping you the way she usually does during sex, hands instead playing idly with the fat of your thighs and ass while all her worries melt away. There are no thoughts running through her mind aside from how good you taste, how pretty you sound and how nice you feel under her hands.

[stickyspeckledlight]

Dear Diary… [Yan!Anaxa x GN!Reader]

WC: 1.4k

Note: A lil OOC; I haven’t actually gotten to finish 3.1 yet but after hanging out with @harmonysanreads @naraven @teabutmakeitazure I needed to get this out into the world

Wrote this in one go so might be a few mistakes here and there (don’t smack me anaxa I promise I’m a decent student—)

The Grove quakes. A daunting force descends upon its ground with an earsplitting thud innumerable times, leaving behind cracks cut deeply into the city. In hindsight, the only reason the city didn’t crash into the earth, was because the Titians themselves mended these cracks after they formed—a gift met with jubilation by its residents. Such an annoyance was yet another jab at the Blasphemer’s conscious, but alas, idiots were never something in short supply, even at the Grove. It wasn’t like his steps were causing the Grove to shake, but idiots preferred to spin narratives from salience as opposed to fact.

A door swings open, nearly splintering, and with a few more earthsplitting thuds, everything returns to a peaceful, wise standstill.

The shaking Dromas’ eyes are bulging as it stares down at the disgruntled scholar, frozen mid-chew as it was enjoying its red soil. Though it towers and casts a shadow on him, the Dromas had never felt so small and afraid. Discontent and nigh on belligerence hung in the air like smog, all from a single, aggrieved man.

Anaxagoras’ features are drawn into a frown, puckered lips barely containing fire. Though, his brows, angled and pushed together, are the only indication that there is any fire at all.

His one good eye snaps to the poor Dromas’ face. A sound of fear escapes it, and the red soil drops to the ground with a comparatively delicate thud to the scholar’s thunderous steps.

There is not a single light to be found in that eye. But as a beast, the Dromas instinctively knows just how deceptive that emptiness is. It knows that what it fearfully gazes into is anything but an empty void, and how it wished it was instead. Like cracks in the earth, nothing is apparent at first glance. It stretches too deep into the earth to make anything out of it at all, other than a dark void promising nothing but the abyss. But, as any decent scholar could surmise, that crack signified not a void, but a dark unknown. Unknown was its depth, even, for even the heaviest rock thrown into it could fall and not produce a single sound. Unknown was its contents, the crack too narrow to slip into with ease; and there was little hope of making that crack gape, for if one were to try and widen that crack, then the very earth itself may splinter and split, plunging all life into a gaping maw.

But, known was the core: pure, hot magma, oozing into itself with dulled passion. But, passion, a frivolous thing, could just as easily be reignited and gush unto the surface with renewed vengeance. Even a pebble could be the thing to stoke the flames. Dulled passion was merely just emptied, hungry passion. And the core? Dulled it was, until a pebble dropped; and now, with passion reignited, it would be a severe understatement to call it voracious—in fact, it would be laughable to assume there existed any words at all to describe it. To describe just how much that passion would be willing to consume to fuel its vengeance.

The Dromas, anchored to its spot, had no interest in letting loose the straw that’d break the camel’s back. Lest it writhe as searing magma sunk into its skin, cooling to leave behind a permanent fixture of agony written in misshapened basalt.

The scholar sharply inhales, clenching his jaw into a vice. The towering beast cowers, taking a slow step to back away. Despite a lifetime of domesticity, this man had reminded the Dromas of the instincts its ancestors had honed generations ago. The laws of nature, the rules of survival. And the Dromas knows that now, backed into a corner, that the rules dictate complete submission. It’s the only way to guarantee its survival or a quick death.

However, the Dromas might prefer the latter, if only so that it does not have to live with this memory haunting it for a lifetime.

Anaxagoras bites his lip, and clenches his fist. His chest rises and falls at a rapid pace, like the waves of an approaching tsunami. His teeth grind against each other, like tectonic plates crashing into each other.

As he opens his mouth, the Dromas begins to wish it had never been born at all. Anything is better than having to bear the release of magma, even if it only causes the earth to rumble, because at least then, the Dromas would’ve never had to know the difference between ominous dread and looming doom.

The ground rumbles, as the scholar pushes his aggrieved, pained words from deep within his chest.

“Why don’t they like me?” The earth shudders, sending life into a frenzy, “After all I have done, they still continue to hate me?”

Oh, oh no, the Dromas thinks. Maybe it would’ve been better if Amphoreus itself had never come into being.

“Are they still such a fool that they cannot see how I would get to my knees at the snap of a finger?” The waves slosh against the shore in discontent, “How I’d point my weapon at anyone just to rid them of the incessant vermin who nip and swarm them for even a crumb of their attention?” Blood starts to leak from his lips, “More over, why does such an ignorant, derelict fool cause me such torment? If they are too incompetent to see the lengths I would go, then I should just turn my heel as I do with the rest of them!”

The hisses and growls arising from him are more befitting of creatures from the black tide than any one human; than any Dromas, at that.

“Should I just force them to the wall, and push my barrel to their head?” The earth shakes and starts to rip when a horrific sound comes into being: a laugh, “No, their heart. There can’t be anything to speak of in that vapid mind. It would be a shameful waste of ammunition.”

A bit of dust falls as the Dromas finally runs out of steps to take, its back firmly forced against quaking rock walls.

“Or maybe not,” the man cruelly muses, “It might succeed in getting everything through to that thick skull of theirs. Then they’d understand that it’s best to come along. They clearly need my guidance for all with such lacking mental faculties.”

A smile rests on his face, as a slight bit of magma oozes out of a crack.

“Hm, that is a fine hypothesis,” the Blasphemer chuckles. The earth only rumbles at that, as the core’s passions shift from vengeance to a singular revenge. “Or rather, thesis. There is nothing here to speculate about, only gathering the clear cut pieces so simply organized—as is expected from an idiot.” Somehow, that might’ve been the most terrifying thing the Dromas had ever heard, even if it doesn’t understand what exactly the words mean.

But its instincts are more than enough.

Anaxagoras laughs with the triumph of solution; the most gratuitous feeling of them all for a scholar such as he.

“Thank you for listening to my woes,” he grins, thanking the quivering Dromas as if he were merely a boy venting about his first crush. The soft fondness in his voice now is in sharp contrast to the splitting earth, but there is little respite to be found in it. There was nothing more terrifying than a beast who could hide its claws, after all. “I’ll get you some extra high quality feed; much better than what those stable hands see fit to feed you all…though, mark my words, there will be a day I ensure it will be all you eat one day.”

Madness must be truly etched into his soul, if he does not pay even the slightest mind to the fear coming from the Dromas in waves—in tsunamis, even.

“Have a good rest of your day,” Anaxagoras fondly says, “You and your friends. Unfortunately it may be a bit until I can pay you all a visit, but alas…all scholars must pay some price, one way or another, for their ambition. Farewell, my good sir.”

He easily turns his heel, and hums a simple tune. For most, it’s unimaginable for the scholar to do such a thing, but that is only because they are met with the Blasphemer, and not the true insanity lurking within him. He slips his gun, calmly ensuring its care before he departs and enacts his thesis. It would do no good for him to have faulty equipment.

The doors do not threaten to splinter with a thud this time, but the Dromas finds itself desperately wishing that they did.

[mononijikayu]

i have love and dreams too — gojo satoru.

Yuji looked down at his hands, feeling a strange sense of guilt. “Do you really think… you can never have that life you want?” Satoru didn’t answer right away. Instead, he closed his eyes, letting the wind ruffle his silver hair. For a moment, he was just Satoru—not the strongest, not the invincible sorcerer, but a man burdened by the life he had to lead. “I don’t know, Yuji……” he said quietly, almost to himself. “But I like to dream that maybe, someday… we could all disappear. And live. Just live.  Just me, my wife, Megumi, Tsumiki, Satoshi… away from everything. Living in peace.”

WARNING/S: spoilers for chapter 271 of jjk (spoilers at your behest), domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

WORDS: 6.8k words.

NOTE: i rush wrote this at uni, at the restaurant i was at and then a car on the way back and forth from uni and home. i just started crying profusely because i hated how jjk ended. and i hated that panel with satoru and yuji because i just kept crying. i cant believe this is the end, but i cant believe even more that this is what satoru had to deal with. this is the most rushed end and the saddest end.

i wish gege had decided to take a break and decided to take his time. but alas this is not my story. still, id like to make more for satoru. ones where he'd be so loved. genmei (you) and satoru will always be happy in whatever life you have, that i write. for bitter or for worse. even in death. smiling is all there will be. even with tears.

anyway, i hope you bear with me, for i am very emotional. thank you for understanding this situation. i love you all, i'll see you soon <3

masterlist

u s and t h e m

if you want to, tip! <3

GOJO SATORU IS EXHAUSTED. But he thinks that there is no use to sleep. He knows he cannot. The room was bathed in the soft glow of a single lamp, the light too dim to chase away the shadows that lingered in every corner, just like the uncertainty that hung between you and Satoru.

He sat across from you on the edge of the bed, his usual carefree demeanor gone, replaced by a solemn stillness that felt out of place on him. His eyes, usually so vibrant and mischievous, were tired tonight, the weight of tomorrow pulling down his every breath.

"You don’t have to do this." Your voice came out in a whisper, the words heavy with a desperation you’d been trying to suppress.

Satoru didn’t answer right away. His gaze was locked on the floor, and for a moment, you wondered if he was even listening. But then he looked up, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours, and there was something in them you rarely saw—fear.

"It’s not like I have a choice," he murmured, his voice strained. "You know that."

You did. And that made it worse. He was the strongest, after all. If anyone had to stand against Sukuna, it was him. But the weight of those expectations had never felt heavier than it did now, with the reality of the fight looming closer with every passing second.

"I hate this, Satoru." you confessed, your voice trembling. "I hate that it always comes down to you, that you’re the one who has to bear this."

Satoru smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He stood and crossed the small space between you, kneeling in front of you, his hands gently resting on your knees. His touch was warm, grounding, but it did nothing to quell the storm raging inside you.

"Hey." he said softly, lifting your chin so you’d look at him. "I know it’s not fair. But it’s what I have to do."

You shook your head, biting back the tears that threatened to spill. "But what if—" The words caught in your throat, the question too painful to finish.

Satoru’s thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away a tear you didn’t even realize had fallen. "Don’t think about that," he whispered, his voice as soft as the night air outside. "Not tonight."

"But how can I not?" you shot back, your frustration breaking through. "How can I pretend that everything will be fine when I know you’re going to face him? When I know there’s a chance that—"

He silenced you with a kiss, his lips gentle but firm, grounding you in the present, in this moment. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.

"I’ll come back to you," he promised, but even he couldn’t hide the uncertainty in his voice. “To you and Satoshi. And… I’ll bring Megumi and Tsumiki back. We’ll be a family again, like we used to be.”

It was the way he said it—so sure, so certain—that made it all the more unbearable. As if speaking it aloud would somehow make it true, would make the universe bend to his will the same way he bent the forces of space and time. But you knew better now, didn’t you? You’ve always known. Satoru Gojo, the man who was too powerful to fail, too stubborn to admit defeat, could never stop lying—not to you, not to himself. He believed in his own invincibility, as if his strength alone could rewrite the world.

But the world doesn’t work that way.

And you think then, that your husband has always been a liar.

You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve heard those words, promises wrapped in silk and carelessness, the way they tumbled off his tongue so casually. It was as though the act of saying it was enough for him, as though the truth could be commanded with just his voice. And maybe for a long time, it was.

Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer, the man who could bend the world to his whims and yet still—he was human. And humans lie. Sometimes because they have to, sometimes because the lie feels better than the truth.

But tonight, in the quiet hours before dawn, the weight of his words pressed down harder than ever. We’ll be a family again, like we used to be. You wanted to scream at him, to shake him, to make him stop speaking as if the world was something he could fix with his bare hands. Megumi was gone, taken by darkness, by fate, and Tsumiki…Tsumiki was as good as lost to you both. Even if Satoru came back, even if he somehow survived this fight with Sukuna, the cracks in your family couldn’t simply be patched over like they had never existed.

You bit your lip, tasting the bitterness of unshed tears.

"You always say that," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the soft hum of the night. "But you don’t know this time, do you?"

His gaze faltered, the usual gleam in his eyes dimming for a fraction of a second. It was a flicker of something too vulnerable, too raw—something he rarely let anyone see. It was the truth that lingered behind his endless bravado, the truth that no amount of strength could hide: he didn’t know if he could win this time.

And you had known it all along.

Satoru had always come back to you. Bruised, battered, bleeding—but alive. He would stumble through the door with that infuriating grin, wipe the blood off his face with the back of his hand, and act like nothing had ever been in doubt. But this time was different. This wasn’t just another battle against curses or enemies who fell beneath his overwhelming strength. This was Sukuna.

"I’ll bring Megumi and Tsumiki back," he had said, as if they were just lost children in the woods, waiting for him to lead them home. But Megumi had slipped beyond reach, swallowed by the very darkness Satoru had spent his life fighting. How could he promise to bring him back when he could barely keep the pieces of himself together?

"You can’t save everyone, Satoru," you whispered, your heart breaking as you said it aloud, the truth as bitter as the lie was sweet. "Not even with all your power."

His hand tightened around yours, his grip almost too strong, as if holding onto you could somehow anchor him to the world, to the promise he so desperately wanted to believe. "I have to try," he murmured, his voice rough, as if the words themselves were painful to speak. "For you. For Satoshi. For them."

Satoshi. Your son. His name hung in the air like a thread between you, a fragile tether that held what little remained of your family together. You could see it in Satoru’s eyes—the fear of leaving his child without a father, the guilt of not being able to protect him from the storm that loomed over your lives. But you also saw the lie there, the same lie he told every time he went to war. The lie that he would come back unscathed, that he could shield all of you from the world’s cruelty just by being who he was.

But he couldn’t. Not this time.

"Satoru," you whispered, your voice breaking. "You don’t have to be everything for us. You don’t have to be invincible."

His eyes softened, and for a moment, just a moment, the mask slipped. He let you see the man beneath the legend, the man who was just as terrified as you were. "I’m not invincible," he admitted, the words barely audible. "But I can’t give up on them. I can’t give up on us."

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Even in his most vulnerable moments, even when the odds were impossibly stacked against him, Satoru Gojo refused to let go of hope. He clung to it as fiercely as he clung to you, because to do anything less would mean admitting that maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t strong enough.

And in that moment, you realized something: it wasn’t that your husband was a liar. It was that he couldn’t afford to tell the truth, because if he did, the weight of it might break him.

So, you let him hold onto his lie, let him believe in a future where you, Satoshi, Megumi, and Tsumiki could all be together again. Maybe it was kinder that way. For both of you.

As the night stretched on and the inevitable dawn crept closer, you pressed your face against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. For now, that was all you had—the warmth of him beside you, the sound of his heart still beating, the fragile hope that somehow, against all odds, he would come back to you.

And maybe, just maybe, the lie would come true.

“I always have, don’t I?” he added, a faint smirk pulling at the corner of his lips, that signature bravado surfacing in an attempt to reassure you. “I’ve always won the day. I’ll come back.”

Your husband’s bright eyes—those crystalline blue eyes that had seen so much, fought through so much—they betrayed him. Beneath that unwavering confidence, there was something else. Fear? Doubt? It was a crack in the façade of the invincible man you married, a truth too terrifying to speak aloud.

Your throat tightened as you met his gaze, the silence between you heavier than any words could be. He had always come back, hadn’t he? Through every impossible battle, every mission that should have left him broken or worse, he had somehow returned to you, grinning as if the world itself were a game only he knew how to win.

But that wasn’t the whole truth. The nights he returned bruised, bleeding, barely standing, those nights played in your mind like a broken record. He made light of it all, brushing off your worries with a laugh, a kiss, a flippant “I’m fine.” But those were lies too, weren’t they? Lies wrapped in love.

“Satoru,” you breathed, your voice unsteady, “you don’t have to say it.”

His smirk faltered, just for a second, and that brief flicker of vulnerability nearly undid you. He pulled you closer, his hand cradling the back of your neck, his touch tender but laced with desperation. "But I will come back," he insisted, his voice soft but firm. "I always do."

You wanted to believe him. You needed to. Because to imagine a world where he didn’t come back, where that promise wasn’t fulfilled, was a world too cruel to fathom. But tonight, as the shadow of Sukuna loomed larger than ever, the weight of that lie pressed down on you both. What if this time, his strength wasn’t enough?

“What if…” you started, but he silenced you with a finger pressed gently against your lips.

“No ‘what ifs,’” he whispered, though you both knew better than that. Satoru had lived his life defying fate, bending it to his will. But not even the strongest sorcerer could escape death forever.

His hand moved from your neck to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your face as if trying to memorize it, as if this moment might be his last chance. You could see the weight of the world in his eyes, the burden of being the one everyone relied on, the one expected to face the impossible—and win.

But for once, he wasn’t invincible to you. He was just a man, your husband, and for the first time, you saw the lie for what it was: his way of protecting you. Of protecting himself from the truth that this might be the one fight he couldn’t walk away from.

You placed your hand over his, feeling the warmth of his skin, and in that moment, you didn’t care about lies or truths, about promises or fears. You just wanted him here, now, with you. "Then stay with me a little longer," you whispered, your voice breaking.

Satoru closed his eyes, exhaling deeply, and nodded. "I’m here," he said, pulling you into his arms, his voice a soft, almost broken promise. "I’m here."

And for tonight, that would have to be enough.

The two of you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, neither speaking, just holding onto each other as if by doing so, you could freeze time, stop the inevitable from coming. You memorized the feel of his hands on your skin, the warmth of his body against yours, the sound of his heartbeat under your palm. You clung to the moment as if it were your last.

As the night wore on, you both lay down, tangled in each other’s arms. Sleep didn’t come easily, and when it did, it was fitful, haunted by the looming specter of tomorrow. You held onto him tightly, afraid that if you let go, he would disappear into the darkness, never to return.

In the early hours before dawn, Satoru stirred, his arms tightening around you one last time. The weight of the night clung to both of you, thick and heavy, the silence between his breaths and your heart beats a fragile barrier against the coming storm.

You felt him shift beside you, his warmth pulling you closer, as if holding you tighter could keep the inevitable at bay for just a moment longer. His fingers traced gentle circles on your back, his touch familiar, grounding, but laced with an unspoken tension.

"I’ll be back, hm?" he whispered again, the words soft and lingering in the stillness. His voice, usually so sure, faltered at the edges, as though he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to comfort you.

He said it like a prayer, like repeating it enough times could bend fate, twist reality to make it true. But you knew better. You both did. Those words, though meant to soothe, carried the weight of all the times you’d heard them before, and the growing fear that this time might be different.

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. The knot in your throat tightened, a lump of unspoken fears and uncried tears. There was too much to say, too much that couldn’t be put into words without breaking whatever fragile hope remained between you. If you spoke now, you might lose whatever composure you had left, and you needed to hold on to it, if only for his sake.

Instead, you pressed your face against his chest, your ear resting just above his heart. The steady, rhythmic beating echoed through your body, its cadence familiar and reassuring, a sound that had become synonymous with home.

It was the same heartbeat you’d fallen asleep to countless nights, the one you’d clung to after long missions, when he’d returned battered but smiling, and you’d held him just like this—like he was your anchor to the world.

But this time, it was different. You weren’t just seeking comfort; you were memorizing it. The sound, the feel of his chest rising and falling beneath your cheek, the warmth of his skin against yours. You were committing it all to memory, engraving it deep into your soul because, somewhere in the back of your mind, a quiet voice whispered that this might be the last time.

Each beat of his heart became a marker, a reminder of the moments you had shared, of all the laughter and love and quiet nights like this one. But now, it also carried the weight of what could be lost. The inevitability of tomorrow pressed against your chest, suffocating, as if time itself was slipping through your fingers.

You tighten your grip around him, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, unwilling to let go, even as the sky outside began to lighten with the first traces of dawn. The sun was rising, and with it, the time for him to leave drew nearer.

Satoru’s hand moved to your hair, his fingers threading through it gently, soothingly. He kissed the top of your head, and though his touch was as tender as ever, there was a lingering sadness in it. He held you like he was trying to memorize you, too, like this was as much for him as it was for you. He didn’t say anything more, perhaps because he knew that no words would ease the ache that had settled between you, a chasm neither of you could cross.

As the first rays of sunlight filtered through the window, casting a soft, golden glow over the room, you felt him shift again, his breath hitching slightly as he prepared to rise. You wanted to beg him to stay, to forget about everything else, just for today. But you knew he couldn’t, and you wouldn’t ask that of him. He had a duty, a burden that he had carried for as long as you had known him. And no matter how much you wanted to keep him safe, you couldn’t shield him from what was coming.

When he finally moved to leave, your arms loosened around him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to let go completely. Not yet. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment longer than he needed to, as if he, too, was trying to hold on to this last fragment of peace before it was shattered.

“I’ll be back.” he whispered once more, his breath warm against your skin.

This time, you didn’t respond because you couldn’t. Instead, you closed your eyes, letting the sound of his heartbeat linger in your memory, holding onto it as tightly as you held onto him. The door would close behind him soon, and with it, he would walk into the fight of his life, a battle that you both knew could be his last. But for now, in this fleeting moment before dawn, you let yourself believe in the lie, because the truth was too painful to bear.

And when he finally left, the door closing softly behind him, you were left alone in the silence, the echo of his promise lingering in the air, fragile and fleeting.

HE DOESN’T KNOW WHY, BUT HE JUST FELT LIKE TALKING. Quite unlike him, if he was being honest with himself.  But as Gojo Satoru sat beside Itadori Yuji, all he could think about was peace of mind. And to do that, he thinks he should talk.

Gojo Satoru could feel his usual smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, though today it felt more subdued. They had been talking for a while now, their conversation meandering from one thing to another. But beneath Satoru’s lighthearted tone, Yuji sensed something deeper. Something weighed heavy on his teacher’s mind.

“When something happens, I want you to be there for me, Yuji.” Satoru said suddenly, his eyes staring ahead. His voice was soft, but not weak—it carried the strength of someone who had lived with the knowledge that he had to bear the world on his shoulders. “I have love and dreams too, you know.”

Yuji blinked, surprised by the vulnerability in Satoru’s words. He wasn’t used to hearing his sensei talk like this, with a depth that seemed so different from his usual carefree attitude.

Satoru glanced at Yuji, his smile widening slightly, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “But you know, one day, everyone will grow up and leave me behind, right?”

Yuji didn’t know how to respond. The idea of leaving Satoru behind felt impossible. But Satoru’s words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his loneliness. It was a rare glimpse into the mind of the man everyone thought was invincible.

“I have high hopes for you.” Satoru continued, his voice becoming more playful, but there was something fragile beneath the surface. “Desire and ambition!”

“I could never forget you.” Yuji said as he smiled nervously, trying to deflect the seriousness with humor, though it didn’t quite land. 

Satoru sighed. “I honestly think it’s better to have someone stronger than me who can truly forget my existence.”

“Isn’t that a bit concerning, Sensei?” Yuji asked after a moment, tilting his head. “Are you okay with that?”

Satoru’s smile softened. “Ah, you’re so young and naïve!” he said fondly, his voice carrying an almost paternal tone. “You’re brimming with confidence, aren’t you?”

The conversation lulled, and for a moment, the two sat in silence, the air between them thick with unsaid things. And then, Satoru spoke again, but this time his voice was lower, as if he were confessing something he hadn’t shared with anyone else.

“You know, Yuji…..” Satoru began, his gaze distant. The most emotional Yuji had seen him to be. “Sometimes I wish I could just… run away. With my beloved. My wife. Megumi, Tsumiki, and little Satoshi too. I dream about it sometimes. Hiding us away somewhere no one could find us. No more battles, no more curses… just peace. We’d be a family again.”

Yuji looked at his sensei Gojo, stunned. He had never heard his teacher speak like this before, as though the weight of being the strongest had finally worn him down. Gojo Satoru’s dream of escaping, of living a quiet life with the people he loved—it was so human. 

So far removed from the man everyone saw as untouchable, undefeatable. But at this moment, Satoru wasn’t the strongest sorcerer in the world. He was just a man who wanted to protect the people he loved. A man who longed for something simple, something real.

“That’s my dream, my love and dreams.” Satoru whispered, his voice barely audible. “But I know it’s impossible. The world needs me too much.”

Yuji’s heart ached for him. He didn’t know what to say, so instead, he simply sat there, hoping that in his silence, his sensei could feel his support.

Satoru sighed, standing up and stretching as if to shake off the heaviness of their conversation. “Anyway, enough of that.” he said, flashing his usual grin. “Let’s focus on what’s in front of us.”

But even as he spoke, Yuji couldn’t shake the feeling that, deep down, Satoru Gojo longed for something far beyond his reach.

Yuji stared at Satoru, processing the weight of his sensei's words. It was hard to imagine Satoru Gojo, the invincible sorcerer who seemed so carefree, harboring such a vulnerable wish. A man who could crush enemies with ease, someone who always had the answers—yet, here he was, confessing a dream that would never come true.

“I never thought… you’d want something like that, Sensei.” Yuji admitted quietly, his voice breaking the silence. “I guess I never really thought about what you’d want outside of all this.”

Satoru glanced at him, a softer smile playing on his lips. “That’s the thing, isn’t it? When you’re as strong as I am, no one really thinks to ask what you want. They think you don’t need anything… or anyone.”

Yuji frowned, guilt washing over him. He hadn’t meant to think that way about Gojo Satoru, but it was true. He had always seen his teacher as larger than life, almost beyond human in his ability to control any situation, to be everywhere and nowhere at once.

"But... you have them, Sensei." Yuji said slowly, searching for the right words. "Your wife, Megumi, Tsumiki, and Satoshi… They need you, don't they? Maybe you can’t run away, but you still have something, sensei. A family. Isn't that enough?”

Satoru chuckled, but the sound was hollow, lacking its usual energy. He sat back down beside Yuji, his gaze once again distant. “You’d think that, right? But the stronger you are, the more people take from you. It’s like… I’m always on borrowed time. I’m always one fight away from leaving them behind too.”

Yuji swallowed hard. He’d never thought about Satoru’s life in that way. It was a sobering realization, that even someone as powerful as Gojo was constantly battling not just external threats but the fear of losing what little he had.

“I wish I could protect them from everything.” Satoru murmured. “Just take them somewhere far away… no more battles, no more cursed energy. Just… quiet. But no matter how strong I am, I can’t do that. I can’t just… leave the world to burn while we live in peace.”

He turned to Yuji then, his icy blue eyes piercing through the air. “You know, sometimes I think I was selfish for bringing them into my world. Megumi, Tsumiki, Satoshi… my wife. They didn’t ask for this. I chose this life for them.”

“Sensei.” Yuji started, unsure of what to say. His heart ached for Satoru. “They love you. And… they wouldn’t want to live without you, either. Even if it’s dangerous.”

Satoru’s lips twitched upward in a bittersweet smile. “Yeah, I know. But love’s a tricky thing, Yuji. It’s not enough to stop the world from trying to tear us apart. It never has been.”

Yuji nodded, not fully understanding, but feeling the gravity of Satoru’s words. There was a silence between them, but it was heavy with the weight of shared thoughts, of unspoken dreams and impossible futures.

Satoru leaned back, his hands resting behind his head. “But hey, that’s just how it goes, right? No point in dwelling on things we can’t change.”

He looked at Yuji with a bright grin, but it felt like a mask—one Yuji was starting to see through more and more. “So, enough about me. What about you? What are your dreams, Yuji?”

Yuji blinked, surprised by the sudden shift. “My dreams?”

Satoru nodded. “Yeah. You must have some. Or did you think I was the only one allowed to have them?”

Yuji scratched the back of his neck, thinking for a moment. “I guess… I don’t know. I never really thought that far ahead. I’ve been so focused on everything happening now, I never gave myself the chance.”

Satoru chuckled softly. “That’s the thing with us, sorcerers. We get so caught up in fighting for today, we forget to dream about tomorrow.”

Yuji looked down at his hands, feeling a strange sense of guilt. “Do you really think… you can never have that life you want?”

Satoru didn’t answer right away. Instead, he closed his eyes, letting the wind ruffle his silver hair. For a moment, he was just Satoru—not the strongest, not the invincible sorcerer, but a man burdened by the life he had to lead.

“I don’t know, Yuji……” he said quietly, almost to himself. “But I like to dream that maybe, someday… we could all disappear. And live. Just live.  Just me, my wife, Megumi, Tsumiki, Satoshi… away from everything. Living in peace.”

His voice trailed off, and Yuji could hear the longing in it. The truth was, Satoru Gojo might be the strongest sorcerer alive, but even he was bound by the same rules as everyone else. He couldn’t run from the world, couldn’t hide from the battles he had to fight.

But it didn’t stop him from dreaming.

Yuji looked at him with a new understanding, realizing that no matter how strong someone was, they still carried their own struggles, their own wishes and dreams. And sometimes, those dreams were just as fragile as anyone else's.

"Maybe one day, sensei." Yuji said softly, with an honest smile. "You won't have to fight anymore."

Satoru chuckled, opening one eye to glance at Yuji. "Maybe. But until then, we keep going."

And with that, the conversation ended, but the weight of it lingered between them—a reminder that even the strongest had dreams they longed to chase, even if those dreams were just out of reach.

YOU THINK YOU WAITED FOR THIS MOMENT FOR A LONG TIME. When you wait for your eyes to close with finality, the weight of the years presses down on you, a quiet fatigue settling into your bones. You’re tired—so tired—and when you open them again, you're met with the familiar sight of Fushiguro Megumi and Gojo Satoshi. Your two sons, waiting for you to go and leave them. 

Megumi stands tall, his arms crossed as usual, but his gaze softens when he sees you. Satoshi, ever his opposite, smiles that wide, carefree grin of his. They both look at you, concern etched into their features.

"I'm exhausted." you tell them softly, the words slipping out like a confession you’ve been holding in for far too long.

“You can’t die yet, Mother......" Satoshi pipes up, his voice steady, but the cracks of fear were unmistakable. His usual bright demeanor falters, his hands trembling ever so slightly as he grips the hem of his shirt. His voice may be steady, but his eyes betray him—glossed with unshed tears, reflecting a grief he’s not ready to face. Not now. Not yet. 

“You’re still too young!” There’s urgency in his words, a childlike plea echoing in his tone, though he’s long since grown past childhood. The way his shoulders hunch forward, the way his gaze darts between you and Megumi—he’s holding on. Clutching to hope as if his words could anchor you to this world a little longer. 

Megumi stands beside him, more composed, but his silence carries a weight just as heavy. He nods, his expression solemn. “He’s right, Gen-san.” Megumi adds quietly.

His voice is low, restrained, as though he’s struggling to hold back everything he truly wants to say. His hands remain tucked in his pockets, his face as unreadable as ever, but his eyes—the eyes you’ve known for so many years—hold a flicker of something deeper. Desperation? Fear? Perhaps both.

"You’re only 48. You still have time left."

His words are careful, deliberate, each one carrying the weight of someone who’s had to shoulder too much responsibility, too much loss. The faint tremor in his voice betrays how much he’s already bracing himself for another wound, another absence he’ll have to carry.

You look at them both—Satoshi, who still clings to hope as though it could somehow rewrite fate, and Megumi, whose quiet strength has always shielded him from the full brunt of the pain—but not this time. They both stand there, torn between urging you to stay and accepting the inevitable.

But you smile at them, a soft, knowing smile that carries the weight of the years, the joy and the sorrow, the love and the loss. It's a smile that’s lived through the ache of life without Satoru, a smile that remembers every laugh, every argument, every stolen glance, and every moment that felt too brief. 

“I know, I know......” you say, your voice gentle, steady. There’s a peace in your tone that they don’t yet understand, a quiet acceptance that fills the space between you. “But I’m ready. I’ve missed Satoru... for so long.”

And in that moment, as you say his name, the air feels lighter, as if the years of separation, the longing, the silent ache in your chest begins to unravel. You missed him—not just in fleeting moments or in passing thoughts, but in the depths of your soul. Every day, every night. The space he left behind has been a constant companion, a reminder of what once was and what could never be again.

The tears in Satoshi’s eyes finally spill over, and Megumi’s lips press into a thin line, his jaw tightening, but neither of them say anything. They understand, even if they don’t want to.

Because love—true, enduring love—is something that even death can’t diminish. And they know you loved Satoru with all that you were, and perhaps, even now, they understand that your heart has been waiting for him all along.

The weight in your chest lightens as you speak his name. Megumi frowns but doesn't say anything more, and Satoshi’s smile falters, understanding settling into their eyes. 

You close your eyes once again, the world fading into a peaceful darkness. There's a brief moment of silence, a quiet passing, before a familiar voice echoes softly, teasingly:

“Did you miss me?”

Tears well up before you even open your eyes. You don’t need to see him to know it’s him. The voice, that unmistakable voice—playful, laced with all the love and mischief you’d missed for too long.

When your eyes flutter open, there he is—Satoru, standing before you, that brilliant smile lighting up his face. The tears fall freely now, but for the first time in years, they're not from

“Satoru......” you breathe, his name barely a whisper on your lips, as though speaking it aloud might break the fragile moment. Your voice catches in your throat, a mix of disbelief, relief, and the sorrow that’s lived inside you for far too long.

It’s a name you’ve spoken to the silence of empty rooms, whispered into the night when no one was there to hear, a name tied to a thousand memories you’ve held onto so tightly for all these years. 

The tears that have welled up in your eyes begin to spill over, blurring the figure before you, but you don’t need to see him to know it’s him. You feel him—his presence, his warmth, the way his energy fills the space around you like it always did. 

He steps closer, closing the distance between you in a way that feels like the erasure of all those agonizing years of separation. His familiar warmth envelops you, wrapping around you like an embrace you’ve longed for, like a homecoming after a journey that has lasted far too long.

The brush of his thumb against your cheek is achingly gentle, tender as he wipes away the tears that won’t stop falling. His touch, so familiar, yet so missed, sends a wave of emotions crashing over you—grief for the years you lost, joy for the moment you never thought you’d have again.

"You came back to me, finally." His voice is quieter now, the usual teasing that you had come to know so well is gone, replaced by something deeper—something raw and vulnerable, a depth of emotion he often hid beneath his bravado.

There’s relief in his words, but also a quiet sorrow, as if he too felt the weight of all the time you’d spent apart. As if he too had been waiting, missing you just as much as you had missed him.

His breath is warm against your skin, and you hear the slight tremor in his voice, that hint of fragility in the man who always seemed invincible to you. There’s a vulnerability in him now, standing before you, as though he’s afraid this moment might not be real. Afraid that if he holds you too tightly, you might slip away again.

His thumb continues to trace gentle patterns along your cheek, the rhythm of it soothing and familiar, grounding you in the reality that he’s truly here. And as he looks at you, his bright blue eyes softer now, there’s a depth to them that speaks to all the words left unsaid, to all the years spent in separation, to the weight of the grief he carried alone.

"I waited and waited, stalling some gods....." he continues, his voice just above a whisper now, the teasing facade stripped away, leaving only the rawness of his feelings. "I waited so long, and every day… I missed you."

There’s a moment of silence that stretches between you, heavy with the unspoken sorrow of time lost, of love interrupted by forces beyond your control. His hand, still cradling your face, trembles just slightly, as if even Satoru, with all his strength, couldn’t bear the thought of losing you again.

The weight of it all—of everything you endured, everything you lost—comes crashing down at once, and you let out a soft, broken sob. You feel his arms wrap around you, pulling you against him, holding you close like he’s afraid to ever let go. 

“I missed you too. So so much.” you whisper into his chest, your tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt. “I never stopped missing you, Satoru.”

You feel his chest rise and fall with a deep breath, his lips pressing softly against your forehead. And for the first time in what feels like forever, the sorrow that’s been living inside you begins to ease. It doesn’t disappear entirely—grief never really does—but here, in Satoru’s arms, it feels lighter. It feels like, maybe, you can finally rest.

And in that moment, you realize that the exhaustion, the waiting—it was all worth it. You're home.

epilogue

The afterlife wasn’t exactly what you expected. Instead of floating through clouds or endless fields of serenity, you found yourself at what looked like an airport terminal. Before you could process how bizarre this was, you spotted them—Kaiko and Namie, both waving like maniacs from the crowd.

“Finally!” Kaiko shouts, sprinting toward you with the grace of someone who has no concept of personal space. Namie follows, beaming brightly, and within seconds, they’re both squeezing the life out of you.

“Guys, air... I need air!” you gasp, but they only hug you tighter. Kaiko plants a kiss on your cheek, and Namie loops an arm around your waist like they’ve been waiting years for this reunion.

“We missed you so much, you know?” Kaiko pouts, ignoring your protests. “The afterlife just isn’t the same without you.”

“Excuse me.” You look over Kaiko’s shoulder to see Satoru, sunglasses slightly askew, his mouth pulled into a pout that could rival a spoiled child’s. “You’re hogging my wife.”

Kaiko smirks, not even turning to look at Satoru. “Your wife? Funny, because I’m pretty sure I was her first love.” She raises an eyebrow, tilting her head ever so slightly as if daring him to challenge the claim.

Satoru's eyes narrow behind his shades. “That was ages ago, you homewrecker! She married me—” he steps forward, pointing at the both of you— “not you.”

“Oh please,” Kaiko rolls her eyes. “I’ve known her longer. I laid the groundwork. I was and always will be the original concept!”

Satoru steps closer, his height towering over Kaiko but Kaiko isn’t fazed. “She chose me.”

“She settled for you, shitty eyes!” Kaiko quips, her grin widening. “There’s a difference.”

And that’s all it takes. Satoru’s eyebrow twitches, and suddenly they’re in each other’s faces like squabbling children. You can barely get a word in before they start throwing insults—Kaiko jabbing at Satoru’s height, Satoru boasting about his undeniable charm.

“Guys, seriously?” You rub your temples, trying to hold back laughter. “This is ridiculous.”

Geto Suguru, ever the voice of reason (or at least the one who knows when to pick his battles), sidles up beside you with a casual smile. “Looks like some things never change.”

You grin at him, feeling a sense of ease that only Suguru can bring. “Tell me about it. Can’t believe I’m back and they’re already fighting over me.”

“Typical Satoru!” Suguru laughs. “He never could handle competition.” He offers you a knowing look, then gestures to the absurd scene in front of you. “Should we break it up?”

“Nah, let them tire themselves out.” you reply, waving a hand dismissively. “They’ll realize how stupid they’re being soon enough.”

As if on cue, Kaiko flicks Satoru in the forehead. “She loved my kisses first!”

“Oh, for—" Satoru huffs, about to lunge at Kaiko when you step in between them. “She loved mine more!”

“Oh shut up,your kisses are slimy and disgusting!”

“HUH!? You take that back!”

“Ugly frog! Bwah!” 

“Alright, enough.” You shake your head, stifling a laugh. “Satoru, Kaiko, stop acting like children. I’m here for everyone, okay?”

“Everyone except Kaiko.” Satoru mutters under his breath.

Suguru chuckles beside you, giving you a side glance. “Welcome back.”

You smile, patting his shoulder. “Good to be back. I see things haven’t changed much.”

As Kaiko and Satoru continue bickering like they’re back in high school, Suguru leans over, smirking. “Should we take bets on who wins this round?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Nah, I’m putting my money on Namie. She’s going to step in and drag both of them away soon enough.”

And, just like clockwork, Namie swoops in, grabbing Kaiko by the arm and tugging her toward the exit, muttering about “taking this fight outside.”

Satoru watches them go, arms crossed, still pouting. He looks at you, expectant, as if waiting for reassurance.

You chuckle, stepping closer and placing a hand on his chest. “Relax, Satoru. You know you’re the one I chose.”

His pout softens into a grin, and he leans down to kiss your forehead. “Damn right.”

And with that, the chaos of the airport fades into the background, as you bask in the comfort of having your husband by your side—and of course, the endless entertainment of old rivals.

[ann1-wr1tes]

Tiring Exams

Synopsis: You are dead set on studying for your finals that you don't notice when your boyfriend calls you...(I suck at summarizing)

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 1,339

A/N: I dug up this old fic I wrote like last year. Hopefully this somewhat makes up for my lack of content and my nonexistence on this blog lmao-

----

You narrow your eyes at the paper in front of you. Your mind seems to be running so quickly but also somehow not at all? If that was even possible. You just focuses your eyes on the words that were on the paper in front of you and you swore this must've been your fifth time rereading this one sentence, but for some reason your brain just wouldn't put any of it together. None of it was sticking like it should!

You let out an exasperated sigh and rub your eyes and head tiredly. These damn final projects and exams were going to be the death of you. You also thought that if you had to reread this sentence one more time…you may just combust. Your mind just felt like it was bursting at the seams with overwhelming and frustrating thoughts. But alas, that was what exams were all about right?

You take a deep breath and look at your wall for a moment. Your eyes needed to look at something that wasn't a stark white piece of paper, covered in a jumble of words that you for some reason couldn't read or understand. You take a few moments to clear your mind and then you finally look back down at the paper and you reread over the words, this time they somewhat stick.

Your eyes continue to scan over the rest of the article and suddenly your phone is vibrating. You can feel the vibration going through the table and you are snapped out of you trance when you see the contact picture of your boyfriend on the screen of your phone.

You frown. Oh, how you wished that you could answer so badly. What you would give to hear Leon's voice right now but with a sad sigh you decline the call and toss it onto your bed. You couldn't have any distractions…..you had to finish this.

Leon felt his heart pick up just a little bit when you didn't answer his call. He knew that it was normal for people not to answer calls. Everyone had a life, you included so maybe you were just busy. Just for extra measure though, Leon made sure to leave a voice mail, telling you to call him back just so he could check in on you and say hi.

Maybe it was for the best anyways. He knew you had been busy lately studying for finals and he himself was busy with work, so no worries. That's what he tried telling himself.

Though Leon couldn't help it. After the events of Raccoon City, then Spain and so on, he didn't like to leave you alone for too long. He was always calling you, checking in on you, making sure everything was okay and that you didn't need anything. Even now, when he was always busy, he still tried his hardest to make time to just talk to you. To just hear your angelic voice that he adored so much.

But you were busy right now. No problem.

After that he busied himself with looking at files, documents, doing loads and loads of paperwork that practically bored him to death but at least he wasn't getting thrown around or hunted by B.O.W.S or zombies.

Little did Leon know, that right now you were also drowning in boredom.

Later in the day, he was about to go home and he still hadn't hear from you. As much as he tried to reassure himself that you were fine, he felt nervous. Usually you would have called him by now, or at least send him a text saying what you were doing or how you were, but he had gotten nothing from you and it was nearing dinner time.

Right when he got out of work, he immediately grabbed his phone and dialed your number as he made his way out to the parking lot to hop on his bike. He dialed your number and it just rang. You didn't pick up. To Leon, that was a big red flag and he decided that right when he got on his bike, he was gonna stop by your place to make sure you were okay.

He made sure to zoom over to your place as quickly as he could and with baited breath, he parked in your driveway and knocked on your door.

No answer.

He could feel his heart rate quicken as he knocks again and listens for any sounds on the other side. He doesn't hear any movement or talking coming from the other side and even worse, he doesn't hear the television going. It was silent and that did not sit well with him.

Leon didn't bother to knock again. Instead he bent down and lifted up your doorstep mat where he knew you kept the spare key to your house. Leon snatches it off the ground and is quick to unlock your front door and he rushes in, almost forgetting to close your door.

He calls out for you a few times, but there's still no response. That's when his eyes dart around your apartment, searching for signs of maybe a break in, or something gone wrong but everything is fine. Nothing is out of place, nothing seems to be out of the norm so that's when he rushes upstairs.

He opens your bedroom door and freezes. His heart rate is beating practically a mile a minute and he lets out a quiet breath of relief when he sees your smaller form, curled up in your bed fast asleep with numerous plushies and stuffed animals that he had gotten you.

Gosh he was just so worried. What if something happened to you? Or if you had gotten hurt? No…no…its okay, you are okay. You were just sleeping he tells himself. He takes a deep breath and quietly closes the door behind him as he glances at your table.

On your table lays all your project papers and even your laptop that is still halfway open and opened up to a tab that is full of the work that you had been doing all day. No wonder you were practically passed out. Seems like a lot of your energy was used on finishing those stupid exams and projects.

With a sigh he shuts your laptop and glances back at your sleeping form. It made his heart flutter a bit in his chest. You looked beautiful. Stunning even. It was just the raw look of peace on your face as you snoozed away, huddled up in a pile of blankets and stuffed animals. It was all quite adorable and Leon couldn't stop the smile that carved its way onto his face as he stepped a bit closer, slipping out of shoes and sitting them on the floor, next to your bed. He then shrugs off his leather jacket as well and rests against your bedpost.

As quietly as he could, he neared your bed and gently grazed your cheek with his thumb. It was just a little reminder to himself that you were okay and were in fact right there in front of him.

Now as sneakily as Leon can, he pulls away some of the blankets and slowly slips in behind you. You can feel a sudden warmth press up against your back and a big pair of sturdy, strong arms wrap around you from behind and pull you closer. Even in your sleep ridden mind, you know its Leon.

You shuffle a bit, not fully waking up but to where you are half asleep. You turn your body towards Leon and you grasp onto him, nuzzling your face into his neck with a sleepy sigh.

"You sure did tire yourself out, huh sweetheart?" Leon whispers gently. He laughs softly when you give him an airy whine as you nuzzle closer into him.

His hands trail up your back and he runs his fingers through your hair softly. It was moments like these where he just thought everything was perfect.

[flowery-laser-blasts]

It's the year 2023 and so much has changed...

Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable-Possible, now in their mid-thirties, work alongside Global Justice with their own specialized team (including Wade, Felix, and Jim & Tim). As for Dr. Drakken and Shego... After helping prevent the invasion of the Warlordians, Dr. Drakken and Shego were pardoned from almost all of their prior crimes against the safety of the world and eventually became, in their own words, 'neutral'. At times, they even aid Team Possible with intel, after all; who knows more about how villains do than ex-villains?

Dr. Drakken started working on his own world-improving inventions because he realized that 'positive' recognition from the world feels better than being despised by everyone, and this way he can rub it even more into James Possible's face... Shego became an elite mercenary/hitwoman after tutoring the best of the best agents of Global Justice for 5 years -it was part of her 'community service'- She now works separately from everyone, but always comes back home before Drakken finishes making dinner.

One day, Dr. Drakken thought of a hypothesis: if television programs are just a glimpse into an alternative reality and aliens exist with their ultra-advanced technology, then who says that alternative timelines aren't real? "Maybe we could learn from that to improve ours!"

He worked tirelessly on trying to find out if alternative universes or timelines exist, maybe ones where he and Shego were always good and Possible and Stoppable were the baddies, imagine!

But then he found something...

Dr. Drakken found out that there was a timeline that lined up exactly with the one they were in, except something was drastically different. It was stuck in some kind of purgatory; stuck in place but also as if looping over and over again. Separate from everything surrounding it but at the same time trying to free itself from its slumbering state.

Drakken looked into it, fascinated that this timeline could co-exist with theirs but at the same time not. What changed? Then it hit him.

"Tempus Simia... that Monkey plan-- It actually happened!?" Dr. Drakken sometimes ruminated on the weird feelings he had on the day the trio, and Shego, decided to abruptly give up on that time-traveling plan. None of them ever said or mentioned anything about it to one another, especially Monkey Fist... he became different. Drakken wished he could ask him about what happened that day, but alas the man became a supernaturally petrified lawn ornament.

"Did Monkey Fist know something about that statue that we didn't? Did the plan work? Is that what that timeline is?" Drakken became ansty, he needed to know what happened. Not that he was going to return to being evil, no-no, this was purely scientific, and well- curiosity took the upper hand. Perhaps he was a fair ruler in this 'time capsule'.

After months and months of calculations and testing, he managed to do it; Drakken succeeded in making a portal device that could connect and stabilize the broken timeline to ours. Shego wasn't entirely sure about this plan but decided to stick around to ensure the man wouldn't end up killing himself and everyone on the planet in some freak accident.

After flipping the switches and turning on the safety protocols, the machine started producing a whirling sound. No sooner did a small portal form, giving them a glimpse of the dystopian world of the Supreme One. "Wow, that-- is that me?" Shego pointed at a fallen statue. "Sheesh, who would've thought the sidekick could ever take over the world, right Drew?" Shego teasingly jabbed his arm, making Drakken roll his eyes in response. "Shego, dumpling, darling love of my life, I've apologized thousands of times already, can you finally let it go?!" He received a snicker in response, "I guess not, nevertheless, let me concentra--!" A loud bang snapped the two out of their banter, "Dr. D? What was that?!" Shego instinctively lit her hands as the room turned dark for a moment, the whirling sounds of the portal device intensified, and no sooner bright red warning signs started flashing while a deafening alarm went off around them. Shego looked at Drakken, who was frantically trying to close the portal. "Something's trying to push its way into here! I-- I haven't been able to properly secure that part yet-- Shego!" Drakken's face paled as he looked back in the direction of the portal.

"The Supreme One, actually." An icy chill went through Shego's spine as she heard her own voice coming from directly behind her. "I already thought, what took you so long Doc? It's not fun being stuck in time; ain' I right, Dr. D?" Both Shego and Drakken watched in disbelieve at the arrival of the Supreme One's sidekick, who within seconds hurled himself at the machinery, destroying most of it and breaking off the connection to the fractured timeline.

Drakken tried to jump in and save what was left by making his flowers restrain the brute, but the man ripped the foliage away from him as if it were nothing. The sidekick threw Drakken aside and blocked Shego from trying to get to him, holding her in a lock.

The supreme one stepped closer and looked at her restrained self.

"Now that botany-boy is taken care of... tell us, Shego: Where is Kimmie?"

---

I hope you guys like my little sequel idea for 'A Sitch in Time'. I absolutely love this TV movie!! I'm not much of a writer but it was so much fun imagining this story while drawing!! As for the future designs of everyone: - Kim's outfit is based on Stephen Silver's older Kim design. - Ron now has a utility belt that actually works and gloves that can help him control his Mystical Monkey Powers. - Shego's outfit stayed relatively the same with some adjustments, why change what works right? - Dr. Drakken (now Professor Lipsky) traded his blue lab coat for a white one... dress codes apply at his shared workplace, but he still wears a blue dress shirt underneath it. Aside from that his eyes aren't as good as they used to be and his contact lenses were out of the question since they tampered with the eye-scanning-security-device (he ended up being left outside of the lab for 3 hours because of it), so now he just wears glasses.

I also wanted to include Rufus in the story; Now a senior rodent, Rufus spends his retirement days around the lab assisting Drakken with various experiments and small talk while Kim and Ron are on missions. Hope you enjoyed both the drawing and the mini fanfic!!

[ofliterarynature]

FEBRUARY 2025 WRAP UP

[ loved liked okay nope dnf (reread) book club* ]

First Test • Changeless • Penric and the Shaman • The Poisoner's Handbook • Everfair • Shades of Milk and Honey • Adrift in Currents Clean and Clear • The Archive of the Forgotten* • Penric's Fox • The Girl from the Sea • (Wizard's First Rule) • Blameless

* * * * *

First Test (graphic novel) - Protector of the Small is one of my favorite series of all time I think, so I was very excited to see we were getting a graphic novel adaptation! Even if it then took me almost a year to read. This was fun to flip through and I had a good time, but not really anything stronger than that (it could never match up to the book). And it cut enough from the story that I wonder how it reads for someone unfamiliar with the original.

Changeless - I wasn't entirely sold on the first book, but decided to pick up the second one anyway because it was at least entertaining. I liked this one a bit better! Probably because all of that messy introductions and getting-together stuff was out of the way now. Still quite silly, but that ending! Harsh. I had to pick Blameless up as soon as I could, and honestly? It was fine, but speaking from the farther future, I think it's where the series started to lose me.

Penric and the Shaman / Penric's Fox - enjoying these very much! It was nice to see some continuity of side characters - going in I knew Bujold wasn't writing these chronologically so I had now idea how the chronological order was going to actually shape up.

The Poisoner's Handbook - picked this up after seeing it mentioned on a tumblr post. Was a very easy listen on audiobook and I had a decent time! Nothing too interesting though, because I've listened to a lot of medical history nonfiction for some reason, and it tends to repeat. For some topic crossovers, check out The Radium Girls or The Divorce Colony

Everfair - I really *wish* I could wholeheartedly recommend this one, but I've just got too many reservations about it. The premise is fascinating and the writing is very good, truly. BUT. It's a very long book, and it's mostly told in the style of short vignettes that skip between character, place, and time! Time!! The next bit could be a few days from the last, or months, or years! (Mostly months or years :/ ) With such sprawling worldbuilding and a large cast of characters it never really felt like a cohesive work and was very frustrating and ultimately dissatisfying to read. I bet the author's short fiction is very good though.

Shades of Milk and Honey - I really wish I'd written some notes about this earlier because I have to confess, I've forgotten almost entirely everything about it. Sometimes I wanted to like it, but it never really won me over. One thing I can say in its defense - while not trying to be a 1:1 Jane Austen retelling, it manages to incorporate numerous subtle nods to characters and relationships from her works that I enjoyed and found much more successful (and less cringe) than most direct reimaginings.

Adrift in Currents Clean and Clear - the new Wayward Children installment! As always a nice read, though I still prefer the ensemble books. I hope we'll see Nadya in them again.

The Archive of the Forgotten - we read the first book in this series for book club and I did like it, so I'm not sure what's up with this one. I picked this up on audio as a break from a longer title that was dragging, excited to read something interesting! Only to realize after the first day that I was bored to tears. If I'd been reading it on my own I'd probably have dnf'd, but alas, book club, and I didn't hate it enough to not finish it. It wasn't really a hit with anyone else either but we've for some reason decided to see the series through.

The Girl from the Sea - I've been putting this one off for a long time now it feels like, and for some reason my expectations had dropped really low. But I really liked it! Both a great story and great art that I loved looking at.

Wizard's First Rule - reread of an old favorite from high school - I've already spoken about this one a bit elsewhere and knew it would probably be bad going in, but the rant I could give!!! On a sentence level the writing is entirely passable, but everything else? The characters are all kind of similar and one dimensional, the worldbuilding is unimaginative, the villains are so unbelievably vile that's it's boring (I fast forwarded through most of their scenes), it takes itself so incredibly seriously regardless, and even with the "heroes" there's something definitely off. I had to shut my brain off for so much of this book in order to not get too hung up on it, because it's pretty obvious to me now that there's something rancid about the core beliefs of the book and it infects everything else. TLDR: it's bad and I don't recommend it under any circumstances. Still compels me though, I'm tempted to keep reading.

[cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme]

Hello can i ask for a hcs artoria lancer with male or gn reader who haves alucard from hellsing powers? Also the reader was randomly transported to the fate universe from their own universe and everyone just thought the reader was a spirit who have amnesia and have made up a new identity from somewhere

Let me just say that I had a blast and a half while writing this.

NOW! YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND!!!

A one in one hundred septillion chance brought you to Chaldea.

A flare of the ley line at the exact right moment allowed you to incarnate in this world.

And it was an event like no other.

Shadows grew long, the air dropped to the point where the world outside of the arctic base would be a boiling hot summer day, and the summoning circle flared black and red.

Then you appeared from the circle, dazed, lost, confused, barely able to speak, barely able to comprehend the world around you.

Guda and the others did their best to help you in the moment, but the storm of chaos that is Chaldea quickly brought their attention elsewhere.

That being said, Guda did assign someone to keep an eye on you.

Artoria Pendragon Lancer.

A regal woman with enchanting beauty and power to match it.

She was a kind woman, if a tad awkward and a bit of a glutton.

And something about her… called to you.

Like a breeze on a day where the weather is just right as you lay in the shade of a great tree.

Comforting, calming, gentle, kind, and wonderful.

These are all words you would use to describe Artoria.

She was all of those and more.

And so, as soon as you were stable enough, you were instantly at her side whenever she called for you.

It also helped that Da Vinci was all too happy to let you test run her weapons.

So the two of you would always be sent together.

Her lance to close the distance and destroy the enemy, your guns to cover her approach with ammunition that no mortal human could ever hope to use.

Over time the two of you grew close.

Closer than guardian and protectorate.

Closer than comrades..

Closer than friends.

The two of you became lovers.

And despite how little you knew of yourself, you were happy.

But then, on one fateful day, everything came crashing down.

You never once had used your Noble Phantasm in service of Chaldea, not because you couldn’t use it, but because you were afraid of it.

Of what it could mean for this life you had made.

Of what it could mean for the family you had in Chaldea.

It terrified you, but as all of Chaldea faced down the last of demon pillars, you knew what must be done.

And so, you told your master to do it, to use their command seal on you.

And as the command seal activated, darkness surrounded you, engulfing you. In all honesty, it would be more accurate to say, the darkness was emanating from you and swallowing the world around it whole like a ravenous hound.

Bugs, arachnids, gaping maws with dozens of sharp teeth, these and a hundred more horrible things made up your form and the swirling aether around you. A massive pitch black hound, lounged behind you, the closest thing Artoria had ever seen to human cruelty in the face of an animal in her entire life carved onto its face.

You raised your hand, the back of it pointing forward towards the massive creature as a burning flame ignited upon it to make a seal, and the world around you ignited in turn.

“You asked for my name once, and now, I will finally be able to answer you…” you stated before trailing off.

Then, an infinite number of eyes opened upon your body, upon the darkness, upon the shadows, upon every single dark place for a thousand miles as you spoke once more as all who bore witness to what was happening felt ice flood their veins.

In that moment, a universal truth was revealed to them all.

A glimpse into the realm of God.

The infinite sea at the heart of the world.

The Womb Of Creation.

In that moment, all who bore witness to this knew one thing.

You could not be allowed to begin speaking, much less finish what you were saying.

Alas, no one could make any semblance of a move to stop you, that is the power you commanded in this moment as everything became clear with each word you spoke.

“In the sea without lees, Standeth the bird of Hermes, Eating his wings variable, And maketh himself yet full stable, When all his feathers be from him gone, He standeth still here as a stone, Here is now both white and red, And all so the stone to quicken the dead, All and some without fable, Both hard and soft and malleable, Understand now well and right, And thank you God of this sight, The bird of Hermes is my name, and so I am found eating my wings to make me tame.”

You were not a saber nor archer, lancer nor caster, assassin nor rider nor berserker, nor were you a pretender or avenger or ruler.

You were a Foreigner, an existence that is completely incompatible with reality.

And You?

You.

Did.

Not.

Care.

The only thing that you cared about was this.

A single blemish upon her could not be allowed, you refused to even entertain the thought.

She was the king, she was the one whom you loved and was loved by in turn, she was the one who had put her trust in you.

No, if even a single scratch was to befall her…

Millions of cruel and sickening punishments shot through your mind like a swarm of locusts blotting out the sky to devour the crops in the field below.

Something like that could simply not be allowed.

The black aether that comprised your body opened its eyes.

And then all hell broke loose.

By the time the flames died, the dust settled, and the screams subsided, nothing remained on the battlefield aside from you and the soldiers of Chaldea.

After this, you would only stand in Artoria’s presence to slaughter her enemies with brutality that was unmatched.

You haunted the edges of her vision, her shadows, her every move.

And it broke her heart.

She wanted to laugh with you again.

To eat with you again.

To be merry with you again.

That was her one wish.

And eventually, after many nights of gazing into the shadows of her room, after many nights of silent prayers, you answered her call.

Because it broke your heart to be away from her as well.

You wanted to laugh with her again.

To eat with her again.

To be merry with her again.

That was your one wish.

A wish that, as “The Bird Of Hermes” was forever out of your grasp.

Even now, you were only running on sheer willpower to keep yourself tied to this world.

Your return to the world you come from was inevitable.

Or, that is what you thought.

But Chaldea doesn’t let one of its own go that easily.

They all fought tooth and nail to keep you around.

And they succeeded.

So then you and Artoria returned to the same way it was before.

The Master Of The Holy Lance and The Bird Of Hermes

Steel and gunsmoke.

Light and dark.

Laughing with each other.

Eating with each other.

Being merry with each other.

And loving one another.

[lvmimis]

you hear the blips of your video call finally connecting, and not even a split second later, izuku elatedly exclaims your name before you can even finish telling him happy birthday. excited, you both pause to give each other space to speak first, and then laugh when you realize you're both waiting for the other. it's not like you haven't had this exact same call just hours ago, falling asleep to each other's voices on the phone, only you were the subject, but there's just as much enthusiasm seeing each other again.

"did you have a good day so far, baby?" you ask.

his cheeks are flushed ever so slightly, enough that he looks both overjoyed and embarrassed, making you wonder if he's already a bit tipsy from his surprise party. izuku smiles even wider and it makes your heart warm enough you wish you could reach through the phone and pinch his cheeks.

alas, you have to settle for his voice.

"yeah, everyone showed up and actually, they're still here!"

you can't really hear the commotion just outside his bedroom, your bedroom, because of the noise canceling technology on your call, but izuku has had to fight through his friends to make it into the room to have this quiet time with you. just moments ago, your friend sent you pictures of izuku's face dunked into a cake - he must have cleaned up before coming here, but perhaps if you look closely enough, there's just a tiny crumb lost in a curl of his hair on the left.

"good," you giggle. "were you surprised?"

"of course not," he quips. you raise an eyebrow playfully and he chuckles and scratches the back of his head a little, but still mutters gently under his breath,

"still wish you were here though."

you frown a little, but then take out a cupcake, baked green and red to match his suit-shaped birthday cake, and bring it into his view.

"i don't want to be across the world from you either, baby, buttt i wanted to make sure i had a little cake with you to celebrate."

his eyes widen as you place candles and light them, then in a flash, he disappears, then reappears with a mashed up plate of cake.

he looks at the mess on his plate, unsatisfied with how it looks compared to yours, which has you burst into laughter.

"listen, i-"

"i know, i got pictures," you tease him. you'd kiss him if you could. "will you let me sing you happy birthday?" you ask.

affection dripping from his very pupils, he nods.

you start to sing him happy birthday, and he pretends to blow out the candles, small tears in his eyes by the time you're done. and you're just as sappy, blinking back moisture yourself, sad that you're still stuck in a hotel thousands of miles away on a business trip and not cradled in his lap or joking around with all your friends.

"next year, okay? i won't miss it ever again," you promise. he smiles weakly.

"i don't want to ever miss yours," he croaks out. you take a bite of your cakes together, and giggle, small happy tears running down your cheeks.

"i love you," he says, leaning in.

"i love you more."

"impossible," he replies quickly, but you can't imagine anyone or anything loving him more than you do at this very moment.

you pause again and look longingly at the love of your life, taking in everything you can see, wishing your senses could indulge in more than just sight and sound.

you've always wanted all of him for all of the years you've been together, and you hope that it's true, that he continues to want all of you as he grows older, every year.

another year has passed and he's still with you, growing older, wiser and more and more the man you love with all your heart.

"happy birthday izuku."

[leighlew3]

Hello. I just started screenwriting. It was a bit difficult since all I've been writing was prose all my life but I got used to it in a bit once I finished watching all the Youtube tutorials and kept studying scripts, especially superhero ones since that's what I write. I started screenwriting because I realized I think more visually (especially with my ADHD) and I wasn't writing as much as I used to. Plus my writing style sucks. Peroid.

Can you share tips for beginner screenwriters? Like writing tv show and episodic stories if you can? It will be highly appreciated.

Also, how did you get into screenwriting?

Hi!

Welcome to the circus! We're all clowns here.

Nah, but real talk -- I'd be sure to check in on some free resources online that offer invaluable information and tips. Whether it's just random sites found via Google, or podcasts. Two of the only ones I personally really pay much attn to:

John August's Blog Scriptnotes Podcast (eps are free but there's Premium extras)

First things first, MY tip to you is to learn to love and embrace research. A huge part of the craft and job itself is researching. So if you learn to be good at it, even right off the bat in looking up tips on structure, formatting (Screenwriter's Bible is a great book for the technical basics), etc -- you'll be able to slowly learn the basics, and then how to evolve as a writer, and so on. Everything I ever knew of screenwriting before becoming a professional was self-taught, so don't think that one has to spend a fortune, take classes, etc to do this. If you have the determination, the drive, the work ethic, a smidgen of talent, and the delusion to not give up -- you never know how far you could actually go.

When it comes to the TV space, I will say it's... evolving. Drastically and quickly. 'Rules' and standards in the industry that were rules 20 years ago changed 10 years ago. And they're changing again now as we speak. That being said there's always going to be the core basics.

I think a good resource some for the basics at this point in time can be found here.

Beyond all that, a very helpful thing to do is to download and read as many scripts in the vein of what you hope to write as possible. Make a list of your favorite shows or ones in the genre and style and format you hope to work in -- and check around online. You're sure to find some pilots, maybe even some early pitches or show bibles for those series. Seeing how it's actually done on the page will always be the most valuable way of learning, above all else.

If you have more specific questions, I'm around and can try to help further. As for how I got into screenwriting? I realized very young I wanted to be involved in the industry in a creative capacity. I loved writing short stories and poetry as a kid and won some stuff in school but I never really thought about writing professionally. That being said, I was studying box office results like it was math homework and reading the trades while my friends were reading teen magazines on fashion and celeb couples, lol. At first I thought perhaps I would be a director since I'm a visual person, but then I wrote some fanfiction as a teen, and so many people would say "I wish you wrote for the show!" so I started to think maybe I could be a writer, but I didn't think I had my own stories to tell. And then... one day I did. I dove into some original ideas by thinking on what I wasn't seeing enough of from Hollywood (female lead action and thrillers, etc at the time) and off I went...

I've worked in the industry in other capacities (social media, PR, marketing, etc) from afar (in TX) for many years but eventually really started to do everything I could to pursue the true dream and be a writer. Alas, I wanted to make it on my own without asking for favors nor hookups. I would avoid what I did, if I were you -- GO AHEAD AND ASK FOR HELP. Don't be afraid to. I stupidly took longer than needed b/c I didn't want to be that person that asked for help or yet another friend of a celebrity who needed / wanted something from them. That was dumb. I could've saved myself years of struggling and hustling alone -- alas, lesson learned. 😂

Anyway, I eventually landed a rep via cold email queries. The guy was awful. I've since upgraded to much better reps and have a lot of exciting things happening. Slowly. The pandemic and strikes sidelined a lot and made projects that would've happened 5+ years ago only now start to really happen, but hey -- better late than never.

So yeah, just know that it's a really really REALLY hard time in the industry right now, and the TV space is being hit the hardest. That being said -- somebody still has to write for television. And there's no saying it can't be you, or anyone else reading this. If you can learn the basics of formatting and structure, hone your craft, find your VOICE as a writer, and work really really hard and be patient as hell... you never know what you can accomplish.

[luvely-stories]

Casual Cook

+.｡ﾟ:;｡+ﾟ+｡::ﾟ｡:.ﾟ｡+｡+.｡ﾟ:;｡+ﾟ+｡::ﾟ｡:.ﾟ｡+:;｡+ﾟ+｡:

You decide to cook a nice meal for your overworked husband

+.｡ﾟ:;｡+ﾟ+｡::ﾟ｡:.ﾟ｡+｡+.｡ﾟ:;｡+ﾟ+｡::ﾟ｡:.ﾟ｡+:;｡+ﾟ+｡:

You sigh as you look at the pantry, looking through all that it had to offer.

Today you were going to surprise your husband Nanami with a lovely meal, at least you’d try to make it one. Nanami usually did all the cooking for a reason.

It’s not like you were a bad cook per say, you were just painfully mediocre. Nanami liked cooking anyways and you would always take care of cleaning the kitchen afterwards so it felt pretty even.

But lately he’d been coming home much later, and much more tired. You felt terrible seeing him make dinner when he looked like he was on the verge of falling asleep, so today it was your turn!

You frown as you look at the window then back at the pantry. It was getting pretty cold, maybe Kento would like a soup? Yeah, you could do soup!

You smile as you go over to the stove, turning it on and putting a pot on top of it. Pulling out your phone you search up soup recipes. You sadly weren’t as wise as your husband who seemed to know the recipe of everything off the top of his head so alas, you had to go to google.

You smiled as you found a good recipe for potato soup and started grabbing what you needed. As you started to chop up the onion and garlic, your phone started ringing.

You look over to see your husbands name on the phone with a heart next to it. You pick up the phone and place it between your ears and your shoulders as you keep chopping your vegetables.

“Hi honey! What’s up?”

You ask happily, putting the cut vegetables in the pot alongside some butter.

“Hi dear, I’m so sorry I’m caught up with some stuff and…I’m gonna be home late again.”

He sighed softly, clearly disappointed in being late again. It was times like these where you wish you could just teleport through the phone and hold him close.

“I’ll take care of dinner and everything just…I’m so so sorry. After this I’ll be back to a normal schedule I swear.”

You could hear his hand running over his face, clearly stressed. You frown as you start to stir the pot.

“It’s fine Ken honest! We all have to put in a little overtime once in a while.”

You said understandingly. You start to chop the potatoes as you continue to comfort your overworked husband.

“Just do what you have to and come home. That’s all I want.”

“God you’re too kind.”

You giggle at the compliment before saying goodbye and hanging up. Lately you think he’s the one being “too kind”, trying to take care of you while he’s struggling to keep his eyes open. God that man could be stubborn sometimes, but you loved him regardless.

As your potato’s simmer, you try to clean up a bit around the house. You wanted to get as much done as possible. As you continue your chores you can’t help reminisce on how many times Kento had helped you when you were low. This is the least he deserved.

+.｡ﾟ:;｡+ﾟ+｡::ﾟ｡:.ﾟ｡+｡+.｡ﾟ:;｡+ﾟ+｡::ﾟ｡:.ﾟ｡+:;｡+ﾟ+｡:

You smiled contently as you looked at the table, all filled with food neatly placed. It what honestly a simple meal all things considered. It was just main potato soup alongside some of Kentos favorite bread that you ended up buying, lord knows you didn’t trust yourself to make it as good as the bakery did. Still, you felt proud of yourself.

With time still on your side you decided to finish cleaning up the kitchen to make sure Kento didn’t find anything he could do. As you finished doing the dishes, you heard your door unlock.

“Welcome home!”

You smile brightly as you hold your husband close. Despite his exhaustion he can’t help but smile as he puts his head in the crook of your neck, closing his eyes and just resting there for a couple moments.

“Hi dear, how’ve you been?”

He asks, looking down at you with loving exhaustion. You kiss him gently before jerking your head over at the table.

“Busy, but it was worth it.”

Nanami furrowed his brows as he looked at the table, his eyes widened as he looked at the dining table before looking at you.

“Though I’m a mediocre cook so be warned.”

You giggle as you pull your husband to the dining table, a big smiling coming onto his face.

“No, no thank you dear. This is perfect.”

He says with a sigh of relief as he sits down across from you. As you all talk, Nanami seemed to enjoy the soup. A little part of you worried he was just pretending to because he was grateful for the meal. As you stare down at your soup, you sigh.

“Moment of truth.”

You think to yourself nervously as you bring the spoon to your lips. Your eyes widen slightly as you take another spoonful and smile proudly at your soup.

Hey, you weren’t half bad!

[sanest-bsd-delegate]

RAGHH!! Ok l lost it. I need nikolai content can l request a one shot with him taking every chance to ask the reader on a date? Like: imagine you are doing paper work BOOM he is there asking you out as a joke like that l’ll continue to losing it‼️‼️

Lost it

Oneshot: Where Nikolai doesn't take you as a joke, but do take you out on a date. Nikolai x Reader Masterlist Your wish is my command Nikolai simp anon, hope you find this post as always.

"Nikolai, give it back I know you stole it"

"I don't steal. I steal time. I steal innocence. I steal the joy on people's faces. And most of all, I steal lives and the possibility of a brighter future!" Nikolai chucked, as he started to play with the book you owned.

You were peacefully reading a book after finishing up the task assigned to you, thinking that you could have a 'me' time

but alas, where there is free time, there is him smirking casually , swaying away his hands over yours, and in the heat of moment you book is gone.

"Enough with the confused talk Gogol, hand me the book" You stated, as you streached your hands outwards to take away the book from him.

"Nah-uh, you always spend time on paperwork by Fyodor, and here you are owning such a free time, you choose to spend it read a book over me?" Nokolai stated dramatically, as he disappeared the book inside his cape.

"WAIT NO-"

Nikolai could only give off an innocent smile.

"You why?" You said as you tried to throw some punches at him. Sadly he wasn't ready to give up just yet.

"GIVE IT TO MEEE" You weakly battle cried, as you tried to punch him despite the fact you were worn out from everything by now.

"Well maybe if...."

"Fine Fine, what is it?"

And most of the time he made sure your eyes, soul and attention always was on his to which he went to every extend an abnormal ability user could do.

You free? Lets disturb you <3

You are growing flowers? Lets make sure they are replaced with fresh ones from the nursery, I mean why grow them?

You are talking to anyone other then him? The audiency! He makes sure the shoes are untied and that their car is set in reverse gear.

"Gogal! You cant just scare away my clients!!" "But Y/NNNNN its not my fault that they are taking more time to leave then usualll"

"Nikolai Gogol, where the hell are you taking me?" You said, as you walked in front of him, his hands over you eyes as the world in front of you was dark.

"Ah-uh, now we don't want to ruin the fun do we?" He replied back, his face just beside your ear, as his breath could be felt on your face. The distance between you two was close and you swore, if Fyodor saw this state, He would be the first one to laugh off.

Slowly, his hands went back to his sides, as you opened you eyes wide, staring at the sight. It was breathtaking except

you both were on an edge of a cliff.

"Nikolai- where?" You said, as you held onto the man now, the fear of falling down scared you. If you ever wanted to die, you rather not die from heights.

"Isnt it pretty Y/NNNN?" he says, as he helds you close, his arms around your body secured, even if there was no sense of security because you both could fall off any minute.

"IT Is but- Can we just go somewhere else?"

"Awww I thought you liked the view?"

"Yea well I would if we just back away a little" You said, as both of you backed away, the sight still in view as the sun settled down.

"Y/N-"

"Look!" You suddenly pointed at the land far away excitedly, as he followed his eyes towards where you pointed out, "I DIDNT KNOW WE HAD AN AMUSEMENT PARK!?"

"Wellll RIDDLE ME!" He shouted, as he spun around, laughing meniacly asking "Do Ms Y/N Perhaps wanna visit it?"

"Could me?"

"Only if you want"

You laughed a little at his response, his goofiness over the place as you half ran towards him and hugged him, only for him to spin you around until dizziness caught the best of you and you fell onto the ground.

"So Y/N, wanna check it out?"

"Is that a date Nikolai?" you playfully asked.

"Yes"

Oh how that word make you feel butterflies and bees in stomach.

[steviesummer]

Dealing with Demodogs

written for @steddiemicrofic's December prompt - ‘pine’ also works for today's prompt for @steddieholidaydrabbles - 'Royalty AU' wc: 508 | rated: G | cw: none | tags: pre-Steddie

“Dustin, I though you said you knew the way?” Steve could hear the unfamiliar voice carry through the pines surrounding his home.

Dustin’s voice he knew. “It’s your kingdom, Eddie, shouldn’t you know every place and resident?”

“I’m sorry, did you just suggest that anyone could know everything about the Enchanted Forest?”

Steve’s eyebrows rose, not at the realization that King Eadwine of all people was apparently searching him out, but that Dustin, usually so intelligent, would make such a basic mistake. He may not have been from here originally, but Dustin was usually more knowledgeable. In any case, he apparently had royalty approaching, so he might as well meet them at the door - if only because it made him look all knowing. Especially because Dustin hadn’t quite figured out his little trick.

He heard their arguing quiet as he put the kettle on and opened the door just before they could knock. “Come in, I’ve just started tea.” When the duo just stared at him for a moment, a small smirk found its way onto his face. “Unless I am wrong and you weren’t here to ask for my help?”

That seemed to shake both of them from their shock. “Tea sounds wonderful.” King Eadwine accepted, following him inside. He shooed two of his cats off the table so they could sit.

“So, what seems to be the problem?” He asked. “Unless the problem is Dustin, in which case I can’t help you, Your Majesty.”

“Hey!” Dustin objected, but the King grinned, clearly familiar with the younger man’s quirks.

“Please, call me Eddie.”

“Steve.”

“I wish it were as simple as Dustin’s ego, but alas, I am here to request your help on a slightly more serious matter. There have been reports of strange creatures along the Southern border. Dustin said you had helped him with something similar in the past - four legged with no eyes or fur and their head opens like a flower full of teeth?” Steve frowned, knowing exactly what Eddie was referring to.

“Demodogs. How many?” He mourned the loss of the lighter atmosphere, but shifted easily into crisis mode, already thinking about logistics.

“There have been 5 sightings, though only three seen together at a time. We can’t be completely sure, of course, but it does seem to be a fairly small group of them.” Eddie explained, before Dustin jumped in.

“Max and Lucas went ahead to get more information, but you were the one who actually dealt with them last time. And you know how we only thought there was one but it ended up being a whole pack. I don’t think the situation is the same, but better safe than sorry, right?”

Steve remembered the entire experience far too clearly. So much for an easy favor. He sighed, getting up. He waved Eddie and Dustin off. “Finish your tea. I’ll get my bat and a few other things. I’ll have to let Nancy and Robin know I’m gone as well. The sooner we leave, the sooner its done.”

[foreveralwaysanauthor]

Melaka Mystica (Part 3/3)

January 18, 2024

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

We are out of time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Books?” Mick asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like what?” Carrie asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Catch?” the woman wondered.

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

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

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

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

“Powerful how?” Carrie pressed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” Vivien said. 

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

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

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

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

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

“One way or another,” Bentley sighed softly.

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

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

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

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

“And if we do?” Vivien wondered aloud.

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

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

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

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

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

“How so?” Carrie asked.

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

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

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

“Will you be okay?” Bentley asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” Mick answered with a nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Vessels?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pebbles?” Kona snickered curiously.

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

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

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

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

Mick laughed, “You’re not wrong.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t think-”

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

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

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

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

“And you’re sure about this?”

“Does it look like we have a choice?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Miles breathed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” Kona nodded. “I felt weak.”

“We all did,” Bentley claimed. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, you are,” Vivien argued gently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ready?” she asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They?” Royce wondered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Precisely,” his mother agreed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kona,” Miles reprimanded gently.

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

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

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

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

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

“We can put her in my bus,” Mick offered. “With the bench in the back, it would probably be easier.”

With a nod, Miles said, “I’ll carry her over if one of you can get the door.”

Mick nodded, digging into her coat pocket for her keys as Miles lowered himself to the ground to pick up Serena. As Mick jogged toward the exit, leaving Miles and Carrie trailing behind, Kona looked around the commons with a sigh before turning to the adults and asking, “What are we going to do about all of the damage we did?”

“Damage?” Brady repeated curiously.

“What damage?” Mack asked with a grin.

Kona turned toward the open park, gesturing with her hand to the empty grass before her head jolted back in surprise. In place of the charred trees and demolished benches she knew had been there when she last looked, Kona found herself staring at the empty commons in confusion. Everything appeared as it had before their arrival, the wet ground the only evidence of them being there in the first place. “What?” she breathed. “How?”

Mack chuckled as Brady answered, “You kids have a lot to learn about magic.”

Dorothea hummed, “And, thankfully, many years to perfect it.”

Whirling back toward the adults who had already begun heading toward the exit, Kona’s mouth opened and closed like a confused goldfish. Quickly shaking herself free of her confusion, Kona scurried after the adults, rapid-fire questions falling off her lips like water as she hurried to catch up to them. Laughing at the child’s questions, the adults urged Kona to take a ride with one of her friends before piling into the Birch’s car and leading the way to the Murphy residence. Exasperated by the lack of answers she had been given, Kona chose to ride with Miles, keeping him company by pestering him with her unanswered questions. Despite knowing Carrie had gone with Mick to keep an eye on Serena, Miles began to wish he had begged her to ride with him as the only two-minute drive to his home began to feel like it was taking an hour.

Once they pulled into the driveway and Miles parked his Jeep just outside the garage, he was glad to find that Kona’s questions had stopped in favor of her jumping out and rushing to the front door, eager to tell her friends all that had happened. He made his way to Mick’s bus and helped his girlfriend shift Serena toward the sliding door before hauling her into his arms and following Carrie toward the door. Miles assumed he would hear excited chatter as Carrie held the door open for him; however, as he stepped inside, Miles found Kona perched cautiously on the edge of the coffee table with a finger pressed to her lips, silently telling all those who entered that the trio on the couch were fast asleep.

Placing Serena on the recliner and bringing the leg rest up to bring the girl some form of comfort, Miles turned toward the couch and sighed as he took in the trio resting peacefully there. Bentley was curled up between the back of the couch and Royce’s side while Vivien was slumped in Royce’s grasp, her head perched on his shoulder while his breath shifted her hair ever so slightly. As Kona took the three empty bowls from the coffee table to the kitchen, Miles took the blanket his mother had made years prior off of the back of the couch and draped it over the slumbering trio before joining the others in the kitchen. 

At Dorothea’s insistence, Kona took a bowl of food to the living room and found a video on her phone to watch so that the others could talk in some semblance of privacy in the other room. Once she was sure Kona had made herself comfortable on the floor, wedged between the couch and coffee table with her earbuds tucked in her ears, Dorothea turned her focus onto the group surrounding her dining table. Bracing herself on the backrest of her usual chair, she began, “I’m sure you must all have questions.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Miles sighed as he leaned back in his seat.

Carrie let out a scoffed laugh, a ghost of a grin tugging at her lips as she mused, “I think this whole day has just consisted of us having a million questions and not receiving a single answer.”

Mick hummed in agreement as her eyes traced the old grooves in the wooden dinner table, “It’s been a long day.”

“It has,” Mack agreed, “and I promise you’ll get some answers tonight.”

“Not all of them,” Brady quickly added, “but at least some.”

“Something is better than nothing,” Miles shrugged.

“But first,” Dorothea began as she took a step back from the table, “you kids need to eat something. Do you girls want anything to drink?”

“I have my water bottle,” Mick said softly with a shake of her head as Carrie nodded graciously.

As his mom headed for the counter where the Crockpot’s light glowed on the highest setting, Miles spoke, “I don’t think we’re all that hungry, Mom.”

“Speak for yourself,” Mick snorted.

Turning back toward her son as she grabbed bowls from the cupboard, Dorothea said, “Now, I know this has been a long, stressful day for all of you, but I also know for a fact that none of you eat properly at work. If you aren’t hungry now, you will be once this is in front of you.”

Resigning to his fate, Miles relaxed back into his chair once more with a nod as Carrie said, “I think all I had were those Twizzlers you got me earlier. I definitely won’t argue if your mom wants to give me some of her incredible food.”

Before Miles could say a word, Dorothea smiled and placed three bowls on the end of the table, instructing him to pass them down before sitting down and saying, “Thank you, Carrie. Now, Miles, why don’t you get yourself and your girlfriend a drink and we’ll start answering any questions you may have.”

Startled by the woman’s wording, Mick coughed on her water as she turned to her two friends with wide eyes, watching as the knowledge that their “secret relationship” hadn’t been, well… much of a secret, sank in. Carrie was the first to recover, her training as an aspiring actress kicking in as she turned to Dorothea with a hesitant smile, “Girlfriend?” 

“Mhm,” Dorothea hummed. “Why? Is that not what he calls you?”

Floundering for the right words, Miles’ mouth opened and closed noiselessly before he snapped it shut, his eyes wrenching shut as he sucked in a deep breath. Slowly letting the breath back out, Miles leveled his gaze on his mother as she smirked into the cup of tea she lifted to her lips, asking her, “How long have you known we’re a couple?”

“I’m a mom and a witch,” Dorothea stated plainly, sending her son a knowing look as she set her cup back on the table. “Not only does that mean that I have eyes in the back of my head, but it means I also have magical wards surrounding the house that tell me when someone sneaks out the back door before my feet have even hit the floor.”

With a hand over her mouth, Mick struggled to keep herself from laughing as her friends struggled to find the right words to say, their faces glowing a brighter shade of red than the lights on a firetruck. Discretely, Carrie slapped Mick’s stomach with the back of her hand, furthering the brunette’s struggle to remain as collected as possible. A tap to her shin brought Mick’s attention to her mother, the woman’s expression forcing her into silence as Miles sheepishly apologized to his mother for keeping the relationship from her.

Instead of appearing upset, Dorothea brushed Miles off with a wave of her hand, “Oh, please. Though I am curious as to why you felt the need to keep this from me for so long, it’s nothing to apologize for. So long as you both are happy, that’s all I care about.”

Miles took a moment to take in his mother’s words before softly asking, “Really?”

“Of course.” Reaching out to her son, Dorothea brushed a hand over his hair, pushing a few strands away from his eyes before cupping his cheek as she said, “You’re my baby boy - all I want is your happiness.” Allowing her gaze to drift onto Carrie as her hand returned to the table, she said, “As for you, my dear, you’ve been a part of this family since long before the first time you two went on a date. Goodness, that was - what - a year-and-a-half ago now?”

“We were just friends at that point,” Carrie said with a smile and a shake of her head.

“Are you sure about that?” Dorothea questioned, a knowing glimmer shining in her caramel eyes. “I could have sworn there was something between you back then.”

Before either Miles or Carrie could respond, Brady sent his childhood friend a smirk and sighed, “Dora.”

“What?” Dorothea replied, feigning innocent curiosity. “I’m just saying.”

Mack snickered, “It’s nice to see the meddling older sister is still in business.”

“Hey,” Dorothea began, “I told everyone from the start that you two would be together and, as everyone can see, I was right.”

“You said the same thing about Tommy and Celine,” Brady said with a grin.

“That’s another story entirely,” Dorothea said with a wave of her hand. 

“Now,” Mack began, scanning the faces of the young adults surrounding the table, “how about we answer a few questions while you eat so that you can get to bed?”

As her friends nodded in agreement, Mick spoke, “I think the first question I want answered is how on earth Dad has magic when he said he didn’t?”

Clearing his throat, Brady said, “Well, after I nearly burned Salem to the ground, we performed the coven ritual. At the time, our coven was only me, Dora, and Tommy.”

“Uncle Tommy has magic too?” Miles wondered aloud as he found his mother’s eyes. “Since when?”

“Since always,” his mother replied. “The point is, when Brady felt he couldn’t handle it, we drained his magic into a crystal that was capable of holding it.”

Pulling the crystal from his pocket, Brady explained, “If I wanted to, I could absorb my magic in full, but seeing as I don’t feel confident in harnessing my full powers at all times, they stay here. When I need to use them, all I need is to keep this with me.”

“For the most part, it stays with me,” Dorothea stated, “but Brady keeps it safe in the winter to keep those around him warm.”

Thinking back to the various camping trips they had taken over the years when nobody felt the need to start a fire despite the temperature saying they should, Mick muttered, “That makes a lot of sense.”

“What is your magic called?” Carrie asked as she set her spoon down. “The kids have the sun, moon, stars, and - what is Kona? A comet?”

“I think so,” Miles nodded.

With a nod, Carrie continued, “And we have nature magic. What are you guys?”

“We represent mythical creatures,” Brady claimed.

Dorothea smiled, “Brady is a phoenix - a mythical bird born of the ashes of its predecessors, I am a pegasus - a winged horse that represents light, freedom, and imagination, and Tommy is what the Greek call a cetus - a sea dragon.”

“What about you, Mom?” Mick asked.

Mack took in a breath and , “Sadly, I was born without magic. That, combined with your father giving up his magic, made it that much harder for you to have any abilities by the time your sixteenth birthday rolled around.”

“Is that why we didn’t get magic on our sixteenth birthdays?” Miles asked. 

Once the adults nodded, Mick asked, “How come the kids got theirs, then?”

“And how can we give them some magic back?” Carrie added. “Vivi was searching for weeks to find a way to give Mick some and hadn’t found anything.”

“I’m afraid those are questions we’ll have to find out the answer for in the morning,” Dorothea claimed. “We’ll have to do research tomorrow.”

“For now,” Mack began, “you kids need to eat.”

“What about you guys?” Mick asked. “I thought you said you’d still be hungry after that dinner.”

“We ate our way through a basket of that fancy bread,” Brady chuckled. 

Mack nodded as she pushed herself from her chair, “They had the same oil dip as the Greek restaurant by Market Basket, so we filled up on that.”

With a nod, Mick returned to the bowl of pizza casserole before her as her parents and Miles’ mother stood, pushing in their chairs and grabbing the box from the counter before heading out through the garage. Closing the door to the house behind her friends, Dorothea let out a long, slow breath and made her way to the side of the garage she had cordoned off as a safe space for arts and crafts. At one point in her marriage, the area had been a gift from her now ex-husband, Allen - a way for her to express her creativity and encourage their children to do the same. Nowadays, however, the space was mostly used by Bentley for his seemingly endless art projects and Miles for the paintings he would never allow to be seen by the public despite his mother’s insistence that they were better than he thought.

Looking around at the seemingly endless supplies in the area, Mack wondered, “How on earth did you get all of this stuff?”

“Most of it was a gift from Allen,” Dorothea explained as she unlocked and opened the pottery kiln. “Once I found out he was cheating, he tried to buy my love. Of course, it didn’t work, but he let me keep everything in the divorce because the boys begged him to.”

“I thought he said he never had money,” Brady commented from his perch on a stool.

“He didn’t,” Dorothea said, setting the box inside the kiln before turning to Brady and Mack, “it was his girlfriend’s father’s money.”

With a scoff, Mack said, “I still can’t believe he was dating someone only a few years older than Miles.”

“To be completely honest, I doubt he knew how old she was at the time,” Dorothea shrugged as she closed the kiln and turned it on. “Her father was his company’s owner and the money was what he wanted more than anything. Although I wish them the best, chances are that, once he has the money he wants, he’ll weasel his way out and find a new target.”

“Ridiculous,” Brady breathed as he watched the kiln whir to life.

“It doesn’t really bother me all that much anymore,” Dorothea explained. “It hurt to know how much it affected the boys at first, but they don’t seem bothered by it, so why should I?”

“That’s true,” Mack mused.

“So,” Brady began, “how long does it take to heat up?”

Dorothea dragged a rolling stool over and sat as she sighed, “Maybe eight to ten minutes. By then, the kids should be done eating.”

“Would you like us to bring the girls home?” Mack asked.

Brady chuckled as he and Dorothea shared a look, “I doubt they’ll let us.”

With a raised brow, his wife asked, “Why not?”

“When a coven is first formed, the desire to stay close to the other members is strong,” Dorothea explained. “Normally, a coven starts within a family, so it isn’t unusual for them to be close or want to spend time together. However, when it either starts or grows to include a group of friends, it results in sleepovers or the desire to get a job at the same location.”

“Is that why they all got a job at the Cottage?” Mack questioned, realization gleaming in her dark, umber eyes. “Or why the kids spend so much time together?

“Most likely,” Brady nodded with a grin. “To them, wanting to spend time together probably feels normal by now.”

Dorothea hummed, “It won’t be easy for them to willingly pull away. At least, not for a few days.”

“So, what do we do?” Mack asked as she looked between her husband and friend.

“Knowing Miles, he’ll either offer the girls his room or bring the air mattress up from the basement,” Dorothea claimed. “He won’t let them sleep on the floor.”

“What happened to the spare room?” Brady asked.

“Well, I was going to offer it to you two,” Dorothea stated. “I figured you would want to see how things go down in the morning.”

Brady turned his gaze to Mack, a silent question in his hopeful expression. With a smile and fond roll of her eyes, Mack nodded before turning her gaze onto the curly-haired brunette across from her, “We would appreciate that, thank you.”

“Of course,” Dorothea replied.

Taking in a breath, Mack sighed, “Well, in that case, I’m going to swing by the house and pick up some essentials for the night.”

“I can go,” Brady offered, rising from his seat.

Mack smiled, lightly shaking her head as she said, “You two said that, when a coven grows, you all become clingy. Stay here and watch over the kids; I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Dorothea asked.

“Positive,” Mack replied, pulling her car keys from her pocket. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”

Brady and Dorothea shared a look as Mack opened the garage door and headed out onto the driveway, but shrugged as the woman climbed into the family car and took off down the road. Smiling at her longtime friend, Dorothea said, “You should probably check on the kids.”

“Probably,” Brady replied with a nod. Digging into his pocket, he produced the fire opal he had slipped from Dorothea’s hand earlier in the day. Holding it out to her, he said, “You know, as much as I love feeling like just a normal guy, I sort of missed the feeling of fire in my veins.”

“You always do,” Dorothea chuckled as she pocketed the crystal. “You know, with Carrie also having fire-based magic, I might require you to step in and teach them.”

“And, when the time comes, I’ll gladly step up to the plate,” Brady said with a smile. 

Nodding to her friend, Dorothea watched him head for the door before turning her attention back to the kiln, watching as the temperature gauge slowly rose closer to the highest setting. As opposed to the silence that normally came from the pottery kiln when she or Bentley had it in use, Dorothea fought the urge to jump as the wooden box within began crackling under the intense heat. Humming to herself as the wooden box crackled and popped in the tabletop kiln, Dorothea wheeled her stool over to the rack of paintings that had been left to dry by various members of her household. Looking through the different artworks left mostly by her sons, she chuckled as she tugged one of Miles’ many portraits of his girlfriend from the rack. 

Though he had used a smaller canvas, Miles had tucked the painting between two larger frames in the hopes of keeping it from any prying eyes. However, his efforts were in vain. Distantly, Dorothea wondered how her eldest son believed she hadn’t known about his relationship with the blonde when he left such masterpieces around the house in plain view. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if he had ever given his artwork to Carrie, but then brushed off the question as she knew how secretive Miles tended to be when it came to portraits he created. Maybe, someday, he would feel confident enough to give his girlfriend one of the many gifts he had made, but for now, his artwork would remain within the confines of their home, locked away until he felt ready.

As Dorothea tucked Miles’ artwork back onto the rack where he had left it, she heard the telltale beep from the kiln, its temperature gauge letting her know that it reached its highest temperature. With a sigh, she rose from her seat and rolled it back under the counter before making her way to the kiln and setting a timer that would end early the next morning. Once the machine beeped to show the timer had been set, the woman smiled to herself and turned toward the door that led inside, pulling her hair into a half-hearted ponytail before she reached for the knob. 

Stepping into the kitchen, Dorothea looked around the nearly empty room curiously before her gaze settled on Brady as he worked on washing the dishes in the sink. Announcing her presence, Dorothea smiled, saying, “We have a dishwasher, you know.”

With a chuckle, Brady placed a bowl in the strainer to dry and replied, “I’m aware, thank you.”

Leaning against the counter, Dorothea asked, “Where are the kids?”

“The living room,” he replied. “Mack is helping them set up the air mattress.”

“I didn’t even hear the car pull up,” she mused. A thoughtful silence fell over the room after Brady hummed in understanding, but as she took in a breath, Dorothea asked, “How do you think they’re dealing with all of this?”

“Better than we did,” Brady snickered. Dorothea snorted; that wasn’t exactly hard. “Remember when you nearly blinded our history teacher the morning after we got our magic?”

“All too well,” Dorothea sighed. “I think that’s why she tried to fail me that year.”

Chuckling as he turned off the water and set the last dish into the strainer, Brady dried his hands off on the tea towel before nudging his friend, “I think it was more due to the fact that you kept telling her off for getting her facts wrong.”

Rolling her eyes as she headed toward the living room, Dorothea grinned as she said, “If she didn’t want me to correct her, she should have done her research.”

Following behind his childhood best friend, Brady let out a breath of a laugh, “She should have.”

As the pair stepped into the living room, they found Mack gesturing for them to keep their voices down as she approached them. “They just laid down,” the short woman said in a hushed tone.

Nodding, the pair silenced themselves before allowing the shorter brunette to guide them toward the stairs. Once they were upstairs and far enough from the kids that they didn’t feel the need to keep their voices hushed, they wished each other a good night and retired to their respective rooms for the night. Before retiring to her room for the night, Dorothea crept down the stairs just far enough to see the slumbering group gathered on the living room floor, making sure they were resting as peacefully as possible before returning to her bedroom with a smile.

Gradually, the night crawled closer to day, and as golden rays peered through the Venetian blinds that had been installed over the bay windows, Royce groaned at the brightness burning through his fluttering eyelashes. His arms had gone numb in his sleep, and as he looked down, he realized he didn’t quite mind it. Bentley had passed out facing the back of the couch while holding Royce’s arm captive, and his other arm was wrapped snugly around Vivien’s shoulders, locking the girl in place with her head on his shoulder.

He didn’t have the heart to move out from under her - not that he wanted to in the first place - but as he moved his hand from her back, he worried she might fall if he didn’t at least nudge her further onto the cushions. However, as he tried to figure out a way to move her without waking her, Vivien let out a noise of discontent and tucked herself impossibly closer to Royce, her face squished into his shoulder as she grabbed a fistful of the hoodie he still wore from the night before. Despite the urge to snicker at the brunette’s smushed face, Royce used his free hand to brush Vivien’s hair away from her mouth before resting it on the back of her head.

Just as Royce took in a deep breath and allowed his head to hit the pillow he had shoved against the armrest, a soft voice reached his ear, “Are you awake, Rolls?”

Lifting his head just enough to find Vivien’s hazy, sleep-riddled eyes peering up at him, Royce smiled, “Nah, I’m just a figment of your imagination.”

Shrugging as she minutely nodded to herself, Vivien’s head tucked back into place as she muttered, “I like this figment; it’s comfy.”

Royce let out a breathy chuckle as he replied, “Usually, we do this the other way around.”

“I like those,” Vivien whispered, her breath sending goosebumps fluttering across Royce’s skin, “but I just like being with you.”

Taking in a breath in the hopes of stalling the horde of insects fluttering around in his stomach, Royce admitted, “Not nearly as much as I like being with you, I’m sure.”

“Debatable,” Vivien retorted softly.

Royce tried to think of a way to respond that wouldn’t completely destroy the bond he had carefully formed with Vivien over the years, but his train of thought was sent off the rails as Bentley’s fingernails dug crescents into his forearm and his younger brother exhaustedly huffed, “Can you two go confess your love for each other somewhere else? Some of us are trying to sleep here.”

Squeezing his brother as both an apology and a way to get him to shut his mouth, Royce said, “We aren’t confessing our love, Ben.”

“Who says I wasn’t?” Vivien asked groggily as she pushed herself onto the one elbow that wouldn’t dig into Royce’s ribcage. Bewildered umber eyes searched Vivien’s face as the girl fought her way through a yawn, but as her emerald eyes found his, Royce found nothing but bleary honesty in them. When Royce still hadn’t found the words to express his rapidly changing thoughts, Vivien spoke once again, “Look, these last twenty-four hours have been nothing but chaos, but I did a lot of thinking last night when I couldn't get to sleep, and I decided that I’m not going to deny that I’ve liked you for a long time now.”

Finding the ability to string together a partially coherent sentence, Royce’s mouth fluttered for a moment before he asked, “You- I- I’m sorry, you what?”

Before Vivien could reply, Bentley rolled over with a glare, the disgruntled look plastered on his face making him look more than mildly upset despite his messy blonde locks and the marks from Royce’s hoodie on his face making him appear as nothing more than a child unwillingly roused from deep slumber. With a huff, he said, “She likes you and everyone knows you like her back. Now, either ask her on a date or shut up so I can go back to sleep.”

Royce’s gaze drifted back to Vivien, but before he could think of anything to say on the topic at hand, a voice chimed in with a chuckle, “I think it’s a little late for sleep, sunshine. If you don’t get up soon, you’ll miss school.”

Vivien was the first to move as she found Dorothea’s smirking face peering down at her from over the back of the couch, pushing herself off the couch as though she had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Now wide awake and well aware of what she had said, Vivien’s face burned as she forced a grin onto her face and said, “Good morning.”

Rounding the couch as Royce sat up, leaving Bentley to flop against the cushions, Dorothea took the brunette’s face in her hands and pressed a kiss to Vivien’s forehead before speaking, “Good morning, my sweet girl. How do you feel this morning?”

“Tired,” Vivien muttered. “Yesterday was… it was a lot.”

“It was,” Dorothea agreed. With a somewhat remorseful smile, the woman squeezed Vivien’s shoulders before releasing her, “I’m going to start breakfast. If you kids don’t mind, could you help wake the others?”

“Sure, Mama,” Royce said around a yawn. 

“Thank you, baby,” Dorothea said, leaning over so that she could press a kiss on the top of her son’s head. Moving to Bentley, she brushed his hair from his face and kissed his forehead before saying, “Time to get up, sunshine.”

“Don’t wanna,” Bentley grumbled as he forced himself to sit up.

“Too bad.” Dorothea turned on her heel and headed for the kitchen as she said, “You kids have that meeting today with that club Riven helped start. If you don’t feel like missing it, you need to get up and get changed.”

“Must we?” Vivien asked as she stretched.

Leaning against the archway that separated the living room from the kitchen, Dorothea smiled as she nodded, “Unless you feel like explaining to everyone why you’re wearing yesterday’s clothes, I’m afraid you must.”

With a sigh of defeat, Vivien relented, allowing Dorothea to return to the task at hand while the kids started their morning. However, before the brunette could move to where Kona had curled up by the fireplace, a hand closed around her wrist, keeping her in place. Turning back toward the couch, Vivien traced the hand on her arm up to Royce’s face, finding his nervous, caramel gaze already on her. 

Taking a tentative breath as he released Vivien’s arm, Royce asked, “Can we talk about that?”

“About what?” Vivien offered in return as she took her glasses from the coffee table, hoping the topic could be dropped now that she had the wherewithal to recall what she had said.

Royce fought the urge to sigh at her resistance as he asked, “Were you just messing around or do you really like me?”

“Of course I like you,” Vivien replied simply, stepping aside so that Bentley could make his way past her to where Kona was sleeping.

“Like, a genuine relationship thing, not just as a friend?” Royce pressed.

Vivien sucked in a breath and sighed, dropping any pretenses she might have had as she admitted, “I already told you I did.”

“So,” Royce began slowly, “you were serious?”

“I wouldn’t lie about something like that, even when I'm half asleep,” Vivien stated. “But if you don’t feel the same, I get it. You just have to say so and I’ll-”

“No!” Royce exclaimed, shaking his head. “No, no, no!”

“Damn, man, I get it,” Vivien scoffed as she turned away from him, smirking to herself as she heard Royce let out a startled noise. As she rounded the coffee table and headed for the air mattress to wake the others, she continued, “You could’ve just left it at one, but four? Gosh, am I that undateable?”

“That’s not what I meant, Viv, I swear,” Royce tried as he followed Vivien to the other side of the room. “You’re dateable - I’d date you. I-I want to go out with you and I have for a long time, but I didn’t want to say anything ’cause, well, I didn’t think you’d see me that way.”

Vivien pivoted, a smile tugging at her lips as she found Royce’s hesitant yet hopeful eyes and asked, “How’s Saturday sound?”

“Saturday?” Royce echoed in bewilderment.

With a nod, Vivien said, “We can go to that comic book store you’ve been wanting to check out, spend some time playing with the animals at the shelter across the street, then have something to eat at IHOP, and spend our afternoon harassing Riven at work.”

“So, a typical Saturday, then?” Royce offered with a breathy chuckle.

Vivien snorted, “Well, yeah, but this time it will be just us.”

“And whatever unfortunate soul has to put up with you two the whole day,” Miles grumbled as he forced himself to sit up. 

Smirking with the knowledge that her conversation with Royce had roused those still sleeping on the floor, Vivien cooed, “Aw, thanks for volunteering, Miley!”

Miles’ exhausted, halfhearted glare at the nickname she had thrown his way only made the girl’s smile brighter as he snipped, “Are you always this obnoxious in the morning?”

Vivien snorted as she lightly kicked Miles' shin, “Says the whiny, vampire bitch boy who hisses at the sun.”

“I’m not one of those stupid, sparkly things, you little shit,” Miles said with a roll of his eyes as Mick and Carrie got up from the air mattress with matching, exasperated expressions.

Vivien began counting on her fingers as she listed, “You hiss at the sun, you hardly socialize with anyone outside of your little friend group, and you act like a ninety-year-old man sometimes. Hate to break it to you, dickhead, but I’m pretty sure that makes you a vampire.”

Before the early-morning argument could go any further, Mick spoke up from her perch on the couch, “Enough, you two. It’s too early for any of us to put up with your shit.”

“Shithead,” Miles quipped as he pushed himself off of the floor.

“Asshat,” Vivien smirked fondly.

Relenting, Miles brought an arm around Vivien’s shoulders before pulling Royce into his free side and deciding, “I wouldn’t mind driving you two around this weekend. Just tell me when.”

“Thanks, Miles,” Royce said graciously as he brought an arm behind Miles’ back.

“Yeah, yeah,” Miles replied, running a hand through his hair as he stepped away. “You kids know I’d do anything for you.”

“We do,” Vivien nodded, “and we take advantage of that often.”

“I know,” Miles said with a grin as he joined his girlfriend and best friend on the couch.

Vivien smiled at the taller man before meeting Royce’s gaze and shaking her head with a smile. Royce joined her with a chuckle before taking a step back and turning his attention to the recliner where Serena slept. Gesturing to the slumbering redhead, he asked, “What do we do with her?”

Before anyone else could respond, a woman’s voice from the stairs answered, “With any luck, she won’t remember a thing.”

Turning toward the stairs as her parents descended them, Mick said, “I remember when it happened to me.”

“I know,” Brady nodded, “and we’re prepared for that outcome as well, but for now, we just need to assume she won’t recall a thing since she has no magical upbringing.”

“And, if she does remember what happened,” Mack continued, “she knows she can go to you all if she needs help.”

“How would she know that if she’s been unconscious the whole time?” Kona asked as she and Bentley worked on starting a fire in the hearth.

Vivien sighed, “There were moments where Serena broke through and talked to us. She asked us for help more than once.”

“Then why didn’t we just bring her home and let her talk with us when she’s ready?” Kona asked.

“Because she’ll need support,” Mick replied. “When I woke up from it, all I wanted was comfort from the people around me, but I was too scared I would hurt someone to ask for it.”

Mack hummed her agreement, “And, if Serena realizes from the start that it’s alright to ask for help, she might find it easier to do so.”

As the adults left the room, heading to the kitchen to help with breakfast, Carrie spoke up, “So, who feels up to waking her?”

Without much hesitation, Vivien stepped up, “I’ll do it.”

“Just don’t waterboard her like you did me,” Mick said with a pointed look at the young brunette.

Vivien smirked, “No promises.”

“Yes, promises,” Carrie insisted.

“Fine,” Vivien sighed dejectedly. “Maybe promises.”

“Good girl,” Carrie said with a tired grin.

Taking in a deep breath, Vivien stepped up to the recliner and slowly pulled the lever to drop to leg rest, allowing it to settle back under the seat of the chair before reaching up and gently shaking the redhead until she stirred. “Serena,” she started, “it’s time to get up.”

The exhausted redhead blinked tiredly up at the brunette before her, a yawn tugging from her lips as she slowly sat up. Looking around at the other occupants of the room, she asked, “What happened?”

Kona scoffed as she and Bentley rose from the floor, “You seriously don’t remember?”

“Not really,” Serena muttered, pressing a hand to the side of her head with a wince. “My head’s still pounding from that bizarre dream I had.”

“Dream?” Royce echoed. “What dream?”

“Just some stupid dream,” Serena scoffed. “Why do you even care?”

“You’re our friend,” Royce stated. At the redhead’s raised brow, he tacked on, “Well, sort of.”

Glancing between the group she used to consider her closest friends, Serena rolled her eyes and sighed, “It was just one of those out-of-body nightmare things, that’s all. Now, why am I here, of all places?”

Without allowing anyone else to control the narrative, Vivien let out a breath of a laugh, leaned against the armrest of the couch, and said, “We aren’t really sure what happened, but my guess would be that you got blackout drunk at your ‘bestie’s party.”

Despite her hazel glare not holding nearly as much aggression as it used to when aimed at someone who had offended her close friends, Serena’s piercing gaze still felt like a threatening knife held to their throats as she hissed, “Why the hell would that be your first guess?”

Attempting to appear unfazed by the girl’s stare, Royce said, “We found you passed out on a bench in the commons, all alone; that’s pretty telling, if you ask me.”

“Violet wouldn’t let me get that wasted,” Serena claimed despite the tentative look in her eyes telling everyone otherwise. “We look out for each other.”

“Yeah, well, regardless,” Vivien sighed, “we brought you back here to get you out of the cold and you fell asleep there before we could get you to move onto the air mattress.”

Stepping up toward where the group had gathered, Bentley said, “We couldn’t find your car, but your keys are on the table by the door.”

“Great,” Serena sighed to herself as she shakily rose from the recliner. Making her way toward the door, the redhead turned back to the group and swallowed thickly before saying, “I’m sorry for the trouble I may or may not have caused, but…  genuinely, thank you.”

“It’s nothing you wouldn’t do for us,” Vivien brushed off with a shrug.

Serena contemplated the statement momentarily, her gaze flitting around the room as she took a deep breath and allowed Vivien’s words to sink in. Whilst she was sure that, in some deep part of herself that she rarely ever investigated, she would agree with Vivien’s simple statement, Serena couldn’t bring herself to voice her thoughts. It did, however, give her something else to contemplate. Could she say the same about her so-called “bestie”? And, in turn, could Violet say the same about her?

Clearing her throat as she met Vivien’s emerald eyes, Serena muttered, “Still. Thanks.”

Vivien nodded as Royce and Bentley accepted the redhead’s statement. Not wanting to stay any longer than she already had, Serena jerked her head in a final, singular nod before turning on her heel, just barely snagging her keys by the initial keychain her mother had given her before scurrying out the door to find wherever she had left her car. Once the door was closed and Vivien was sure the redhead was far enough from the door that she wouldn’t hear her, she asked, “Did you guys really not see her car anywhere?”

“Nope,” Carrie claimed.

Miles chuckled, “I didn’t even look.”

“Chances are it’s at her house,” Mick claimed with a tired snicker.

Kona let out a snort as she began searching for the backpack she had chosen to use as a pillow during the night, “Wouldn’t be the first time she did something like that.”

Vivien hummed as she dragged herself over to the window seat she always claimed in the morning, searching for the shoes she knew she had ditched there at some point during their stay. She could remember a couple of different times when Serena’s car had “gone missing.” Despite only having the vehicle since her birthday back in May, Serena had forgotten where she had parked it more than once, resulting in her stepfather calling in some of his police friends to help search for it. More often than not, it was found within minutes, left in a parking spot she claimed she would never have used or in their garage as the redhead had forgotten she had gotten a ride with a friend, but there were a few times when the car had actually been towed away, and her family had to pay for its release from car jail.

With an amused smirk tugging at her lips, Vivien looked up as Kona called her name, “Yeah?”

“I slept on your dice last night,” Kona said from her spot on the floor, her backpack sitting open in her lap as she held a small, crushed velvet bag out for Vivien to see.

The pouch that Riven gave Vivien for her birthday a few years back had been passed around through their friend group as everyone took turns using the fancy dice within for different Dungeons and Dragons projects. Kona almost always used the dice for creating maps or, when she felt like it, a way to randomize her character creations for different games. Vivien's collection of dice was like a library to Kona - something for her to explore and borrow to her heart's content. However, the fact that the young blonde had slept on a myriad of pointy, oddly-shaped dice was something Vivien had to wonder if she had done before.

With a chuckle, Vivien shook her head and picked her shoes up from the floor as she stood, “Why am I not surprised?”

Watching the brunette place her shoes by the door and head back toward the window, Kona said, “Here, catch!”

Whirling around as the bag soared through the air, Vivien watched as the strings loosened, sending a couple of the crystalline dice tumbling out from their holster. With a gasp, she dropped her shoes and reached for the glittering dice, only to watch them come to a stop just above the hardwood floors. Peering up at her friend from her spot on the floor, Kona’s widened eyes found Vivien’s as they realized that the dice were now levitating a few inches above the floor, a hazy, amethyst glow shimmering around each individual die. Vivien glanced around at her friends, who had since turned from their conversations to see what had happened. Seeing as none of them had been watching, she realized that none of them could have been the one preventing her dice from hitting the floor.

Looking from the still-floating dice to Kona, Vivien softly asked, “Is that you?”

Slowly, Kona shook her head, “No, is it you?”

“How could it be me?” Vivien asked in return. “I don’t have magic anymore.”

“Well, if it’s not me,” Kona began, slowly shifting her gaze onto the other occupants of the room as she gestured to them, “and it wasn’t any of them, it has to be you.”

Vivien’s gaze shifted as she scanned over her friends, watching as their eyes slowly turned from Kona to the dice and, finally, onto her. Amazed confusion lined their faces, and while a part of her understood why, she wanted nothing more than for one of them to step up and help or, at the very least, admit that they were the one to use their magic to keep her dice from the hardwood. As she found his eyes, Vivien noticed that Bentley looked ready to step up and take the dice to keep her from worrying, but as Mick stood from the couch, he held himself back, leaving Vivien standing stock-still in an attempt to keep herself together. 

Hesitantly, Mick said, “Try putting them back in the bag without touching anything.”

Vivien’s head shook as her eyes widened, her fingers twitching anxiously at the thought of completing the challenge, “I don’t think I want to.”

Mick chuckled, “Yes, you do.”

Swallowing the growing pressure in her throat, Vivien shook her head once more, “If I drop these, not only will they break, but I’m pretty sure I will too, so no, I really don’t want to move them.”

Despite the smile on her face, Mick let out a sigh and shook her head before shifting her gaze onto the two boys who lingered just behind the couch. Gesturing for them to come over with a nod of her head, Mick took a step back as Royce and Bentley breezed by her to stand on either side of Vivien. Kona scrambled off the floor to join them, assuring Vivien she would only be there to step in if they needed her to before taking up the space Mick vacated.

Bentley placed a hand on Vivien’s arm with a smile, “You’ve got this Viv.”

“Just remember to breathe,” Royce added.

Vivien nodded slowly, taking in a breath before asking, “Together?”

“Always,” Kona agreed.

As ridiculous as it felt to be so concerned about dropping a handful of glow-in-the-dark resin dice, Vivien couldn’t help but feel as though she would pass out if the violet haze around the dice disappeared. Slowly, she forced herself to focus on the task at hand, watching as shades of gold, flickers of pink, and shimmers of blue melded together to form a galactic array of colors around each of the dice. Allowing her attention to split off from the dice, Kona jerked her wrist toward the floating bag and brought it closer to the group, a pink and blue nebula keeping the pouch open as rings of honey yellow, navy blue, and plum purple dropped the dice into their original confines. 

Once the dice had been returned to the small bag, Bentley snagged the bag out of the air and smiled as his eyes scanned over those present. “We did it,” he declared softly as the others rose from the couch to commend them.

“We did,” Royce echoed with a breathy laugh.

“But-” Vivien cut herself off with a disbelieving chuckle. “But how? I thought we gave up our magic.” 

As though a lightbulb had flickered on inside her head, Kona’s eyes lit up and she pushed her way through the gathering group, beelining for the kitchen. Bentley was quick to follow, weaseling his way past Miles and ducking under Carrie’s incoming hug with a quick apology as Kona stepped into the kitchen. Sharing a look and a simple shrug, Royce and Vivien were quick to follow, the older group following close behind and just entering the kitchen as Kona stated, “You guys lied about them giving up their magic, didn't you?”

Though the way the small blonde had worded her statement gave the adults very little room to argue, Dorothea found an easy way to avoid the topic as she smiled and said, “Well, good morning to you too, Kona.”

“Don’t dodge the question,” Kona huffed with a roll of her eyes. “You told them to give their magic to Carrie, Mick, and Miles, but they have magic this morning. Why did you say they were giving up all their magic?”

“Technically,” Dorothea began, “I didn’t.”

“You said the eclipse could make it permanent,” Vivien argued. "That was a big factor as to why you said to try other means first."

“But she never said it would be permanent,” Brady countered. “She only said it was a possibility.”

Mack smiled as she set her cup of tea down on the table, “It wasn't a full exchange of magic, therefore, you were never in any true danger of giving up your powers.”

Glancing down at his hands as though they were suddenly no longer his own, Miles peered at the girls on either side of him and softly asked, “Does that mean we don’t have magic anymore?”

“Oh, no,” Brady said with a shake of his head, taking a sip of his morning coffee. “You three should have your full powers just the same as the kids will after a few more hours.”

“But that doesn’t make sense,” Carrie claimed. “If the spell was for the kids to give their powers to us, shouldn’t only some of us have magic?”

“Only for twelve hours,” Dorothea claimed, setting the coffee pot back on the crochet pot holder she had made a few months back.

“Give or take,” Mack added.

“I'm lost,” Bentley muttered as he rubbed remnants of sleep from the corner of his eye.

“Yeah,” Mick began, confusion looping its way around her words. “We thought it was potentially permanent.”

“But it wasn’t,” Brady said. “Like when I gave away my magic, the spell wasn’t a one-and-done, permanent thing. I’m able to take it or leave it as I wish, and last night, you kids did something similar. The only difference is that your new magic should be permanent.”

“But what about us?” Royce pressed as he gestured to Vivien and Bentley. "I'm pretty sure we all can vividly remember the feeling of our magic leaving us, but now it's back. How does that make any sense?"

Dorothea pushed out her chair and stood as she explained, “During a lunar eclipse, magic can be drawn into a vessel for twelve hours. Normally, the vessel is an inanimate object and the magic will force its way back to the holder in full by the time the twelve hours have passed.”

“However,” Brady began, “since she gave you the spell to transfer your magic to another human being, the transfer left traces of magic inside of them, granting them just as much magic as you have, even after your magic returns to you.”

“Well,” Mack started, “as soon as the spell wears off, that is.”

Dorothea found herself smiling calmly as the eyes of her children and their friends landed on her. However, she couldn’t help the pang of hurt in her heart as Vivien softly asked, “Why didn’t you tell us that?”

Stepping forward with a gentle smile, Dorothea tried to placate the group as she stated, “I knew from experience that, if you truly believed that you would never have magic again, it would make those who inherited it from you feel as though they had to fight twice as hard to win the battle.”

Carrie scoffed a laugh as she recalled just how incinerated the commons looked after their fight with Serena had started, “It certainly worked.” 

“And, another thing,” Brady tacked on as he poured some creamer into his coffee, “if you believed your powers were gone forever, so would Serena.”

Dorothea nodded, shifting her gaze from Brady to the children before her as she spoke, “That meant she wouldn’t go after any of you and would only target her attack on the ones she believed had magic.”

“It saved you three from any potential danger,” Mack claimed.

As incredulous looks were shared and relieved sighs fell through exhausted lips, comments of disbelief flooded the kitchen as everyone attempted to force themselves into some form of normalcy. As Miles began pulling cups and plates from the cupboards for the others to take and Vivien muttered something about having a love-hate relationship with evil witches under her breath, Kona said, “I can’t believe we didn’t piece all of this together earlier.”

With a snicker he shared with his wife and childhood friend, Brady sipped his coffee and said, “As we said last night, you kids have a lot to learn.”

Dorothea nodded, a proud smile filling her features as she observed the group and said, "And we will be there to teach you."

[guhamun]

@solaurous said (inbox):

"when was the last time that you ate & slept?" hands on her hips, fu xuan looked at the general with a disgruntled frown posed 'pon expression. to say that she was unhappy was an understatement. she was greatly displeased. angry even. "go take a bath & eat. sleep." it was not a question. she was about to rain hell down onto him; not afraid of his status but worried about his health underneath her VERY rude demeanor.

AH, NOTHING ESCAPED THOSE perceptive eyes. To everyone else, there was nothing remotely off about Jing Yuan as he went about his day, but to Fu Xuan – well, even he had a difficult time hiding some things from her. ❝Good evening to you as well, Diviner Fu. I had thought you would have returned home by now, but it would seem I might have miscalculated a bit.❞ Did he purposely wait until this very specific hour to return to his work? Perhaps. It wasn’t as if he was going to outright admit that much. Alas, how silly of him to think that she would overlook his attempts at finishing up looking over just a few more letters addressed to him from various officials. Leaning back into his seat, Jing Yuan wondered if there was some way he could deter her attention…

     Not a chance.

     ❝…Very well. I suppose these won't be going anywhere.❞ Though he did languidly push himself up, there was something altogether mischievous about the upturn of his lips as golden eyes fell upon Fu Xuan once more. ❝Were those words of concern I garnered from you? I was not aware you worried so over me.❞ He chuckled softly, slipping everything away so it was out of sight, out of mind. ❝Before I go and do all the many things you wish of me, why not come with me to enjoy a meal? It’ll be my treat.❞ It wasn’t as if she too wasn’t notorious for forgetting to take care of herself as well. Not much escaped Jing Yuan’s his gaze either, after all.