#like. when am i going to pass that event horizon?

[svtskneecaps]

hm. ah.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 14: Don't Be A Bundt Cake

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV

Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you never expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team.  (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy, Miscommunication Trope

Word Count: 13.1K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Talks of Death, DENIAL, Idiots in Love, Pining by the Reader (and SB, but he won't admit it) Depressing Thoughts, Mentions of sexual assault/rape (not detailed at all, really just in passing) Talks about weed, Sexist comments, Ben makes derogatory comments, Threatening Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A/N: I am so sorry this one took me a bit longer. The writers block was fighting me the whole way, but we are very closely nearing the end of this series and the moment the reader and Ben stop being so stinkin' stubborn.

Reader POV

You lean your forehead against the cool window, watching the world flash by in a flurry of color. The wooded forests had vanished hours ago and all that was left were the yellowed sprawling fields of corn and grain and family farms that were laid sporadically along the interstate. Each one a little world that caught the flecks of golden sunlight as the sun began to peak above the horizon.

The bus rolled smooth and steady over the weathered pavement towards it's destination and was filled with an odd assortment of people young and old. There was man with a brightly colored parrot that had been singing "It's A Small World After All" since you left NYC, a woman with a little boy playing with an iPad and who refused to turn down the volume no matter how many times his mother asked him to, a group of teenagers a few seats up that continued to pass around a flask, and due to how far back you were sitting on the bus an uncomfortable smell emanated from the bathroom each time the door was opened.

But you didn't notice any of it.

The only thing on your mind were the events that happened almost twenty hours ago. They continued to circle your mind, playing over and over again like a perverted cassette tape making you sink further into the worn cloth covered seat at the back of the bus. The images were haunting, some new and some old, but all the more still horrible to re-live.

The song "Nights In White Satin" floating into the backseat of your family's car, the flash of unnatural light you knew was never lightning, the caskets at your parent's funeral covered in flowers that were much to pretty to lay on something so morbid, Elijah's body succumbing to the poppies that ripped him apart, the proud sneer on your brother's face when he admitted to killing your parents, Darren's broken and bloodied body strewn in pieces over the street with the creature standing over him with a dripping red maw, the ruined building that housed "Please Don't Die" reduced to nothing more than rubble, and the look on Ben's face when you turned your back on him and fled the scene.

For some reason that particular image seemed to cling on to you and refused to fade. You'd never seen him look that way, almost… helpless and a little fearful. In all the time you'd known him, Ben had never looked at you that way. Sure you'd seen him proud, angry, cocky, lustful, mischievous, but never fearful. And you were sure that it wasn't an emotion that he was used to feeling, but that begged the question… why?

Why was he looking at me like that? Why wouldn't he let me go? And what was he afraid of?

The creature curled in your lap snorts something in it's sleep, turning it’s head further into the cradle of your elbow to shut out the brilliant early morning sunlight. It was now the size of a toaster and had warranted several odd looks whenever you got off to change buses, but you didn't care.

You weren't sure about anything anymore. Everything your brother confessed to you made you feel like you were living a lie and the revelation of exactly what your powers could do- take life from plants to heal yourself, create whatever the hell it was on your lap, and speak to plants… it scared you.

You thought for so long that you knew everything about your powers, that you were in control, but now you weren't sure.

You felt different, as if something had unlocked deep down that you couldn't shut up again.

You'd felt different after you killed Elijah, but this was more alive, weaving and twisting in the pit of your stomach. You felt more connected to the earth, to the world outside the bus even though you were divided by glass and metal. You could feel the energy that thrummed through the body of the creature on your lap, bending to your will, the life force of the plants it was formed from molding with you, becoming a part of you.

You felt so different than the person you had been before Darren entered the shop, so uncertain, and there was only one place you wanted to be when you felt like this… home. You couldn't wait to run up the worn front steps of your grandmother's house and into her arms. She always knew what to say in times like this.

And you desperately needed the comfort of her embrace.

The phone in your pocket buzzes again and you flip the screen to see the ridiculous selfie Annie and you had taken on Halloween last year. The one that you'd both spent dressed up as the two brothers from your favorite paranormal tv show. It wasn't the first time she'd called. Annie had called and texted you more times than you could count over the past twenty hours but you didn't answer her. You didn’t want to.

It was the first time that you didn't want to talk to her, but talking to her meant that you'd have to re-live all of it again and you were clawing at the last shred of sanity you had left to keep it together.

The overwhelming waves of emotion kept pummeling you, dragging you deeper beneath the white surf. Each one brought the memories of what happened surging over you and were followed by everything that Darren said to you. Years of taking care of Darren and doing whatever he wished were tearing at your soul, years of giving up little things in your life to make him happy, and years of taking care of a man who you thought cared about you, but hated you enough to kill your parents and try to kill you too.

It made your skin crawl. Each time your brother told you that he loved you was an even bigger lie and now that you knew the truth and saw him for what he was, it felt like you were drowning. The darkness that ebbed just on the edge was begging you to leap into the abyss, but you were resisting the best you could.

The tears had stopped falling miles ago, but you couldn't stop the memories or the emotion that formed a cold ball in the pit of your stomach.

A sigh works it's way up and you pull your legs on the seat underneath you, jostling the creature on your lap that raises it's head for a moment to blink it's black eyes at you sleepily.

It was surprisingly docile right now, especially considering that twenty hours ago it had ripped your brother to shreds. In fact it seemed to understand how upset you were and had spent the better part of the last twenty hours rubbing it's head against your arm as if trying to bring you some comfort. It was settled on your lap, the weight of it a comfort, almost like a weighted plushy that gave you something to focus on.

"It's alright buddy." You whisper, scratching him under his chin. "We're almost home."

The phone in your jacket pocket buzzes again, but when you pull it out to turn it off, you catch a glimpse of the screen, and you hesitate. Because this time it's not Annie who's calling, it’s Ben.

The picture that flashes on the screen under the contact name "Gramps" is the picture of Mr. Fredrickson from Up. It always made you smile whenever he called you and you saw the picture because Ben did often remind you of him. He was certainly just as grumpy as Mr. Fredrickson and just as out of touch, but you thought it was cute.

Your thumb hovers over the answer button and you think about talking to him.

But what would I say?

You weren't sure what to say to him, or why you wanted to speak to him so badly, why you wanted him to be sitting here on the bus with you as you went home, and why you wanted him to hold you against his chest while you allowed yourself to break, but you did. You wanted to feel his awkward shoulder pat and his awkward version of hand holding and you wanted to hear him try to tell you to "buck up" or whatever he thought that a comforting word should be.

He's really not the best at that.

You smile to yourself at the memory of how he tried to comfort you back at the hospital, but the longer you sit there and look down at the picture on the screen the worse you feel.

Maybe that scared you more than your newfound powers, how much you were realizing that you needed him, how much you depended on him when things got too much for you to bear. The memory of him appearing as soon as you needed him back at the shop, another of him grabbing Darren and throwing him into the street as soon as Darren insulted you comes in a flash, and finally followed by the memory of Ben carrying you out of Elijah's office while you curled into his chest. You couldn't remember too much from that moment, in fact you'd thought that Ben had kissed you on top of your head, but you ascribed that to the haze of pain you'd been in from your broken arm.

What you did remember was how wonderfully warm he was after you'd been trapped in that damn freezer and how nice it felt to be in his arms. Another memory of Ben sleeping on the couch at the hospital bubbles up and you feel something in your chest begin to crack open. And you try your best to tell yourself the same thing that you always do when you feel like Ben might care more about you that he was letting on.

Ben doesn't want that. He's made it perfectly clear. He doesn't want a relationship. He's only wants one night, that's why he goes out with all those women-

You hesitate, thumb still hovering over the answer button as you do, the memory of the week you'd spent at the apartment with him flickering in the back of your mind. The week where he refused to leave you alone in the apartment, where he refused to do any jobs for Butcher, where he took care of you the best way he could, when he sat with you on the couch and made you laugh with his ridiculous movies, and the week where he hadn't had one date.

Your finger itched to answer the phone, but you couldn't, because you didn't want to feel this way about Ben, not when he'd told you countless times that you kept romanticizing him, not when he told you that he didn't want a relationship, and not when you could feel yourself beginning to fall for someone you thought was the wrong man.

For just a moment you tried to pretend that it was different, that he was different, but you didn't want to. It only made it hurt more.

The phone stops ringing, but the pit in your stomach still gapes open at you and for the first time in twenty hours you feel tears begin to fall. You didn't know why you were crying about this, why the thought of not picking up Ben's phone call seemed to hurt more than everything that had happened, but something made it hurt.

The bus driver announces over the overhead that you're reaching your final destination as he takes the exit for your hometown. The familiar buildings that line the streets are sheathed in a honeyed glow from the sun, the long shadow of the bus darkening them momentarily as it rumbles down the small streets to the bus station.

When it rumbles to a stop at the bus station you wait for everyone else to get off, trying to summon the strength to stand, and swipe the back of your hand across your face to rid yourself of the remaining tears.

The bus station was about a thirty minute walk from your grandmother's house, and you still hadn't called her. You didn't know what to say, didn't know how to tell her that Darren was dead and that he was the reason why your parents were dead.

The creature crawls up your body to drape it's warm body over the back of your neck as you stand. It wasn't bothering to hide, besides the people in your hometown already thought that you were odd because you were a supe and you'd always welcomed it. You give him a scratch on top of his head and his warm tongue flicks on the bottom of your earlobe as if thanking you before it curls further into the side of your neck, seeking warmth.

The first few steps on solid ground are shaky, but you find the strength while taking in a deep cleansing breath of the outside world, letting the gentle warmth of the sun and the tickle of the autumn breeze pull at your coat. You hadn't stopped at your apartment before coming here, instead you had stumbled your way to the bus station covered in dust, flecked in blood, and demanded the first ticket back to Illinois. It was lucky that the next bus was leaving immediately, because you didn’t want to spend another second in NYC, not when all you wanted was to be home.

Plus you were worried that someone had recorded what exactly happened outside the plant shop and you didn't want to get arrested.

It was self defense anyway. Maybe Jake would represent me in court.

The thought of Jake makes you twinge. You hadn't checked to see if he was alright before you ran from the scene. Not to mention you'd destroyed the shop he'd put all his life savings into after he stopped being a lawyer.

Oh fuck, what if he sues me? He can't exactly sue Darren…

You hear someone call your name and you open your eyes.

Your grandmother is standing in front of the same baby blue pickup truck that she'd had longer than you've been alive, wearing a long multicolored skirt and a pressed white blouse tucked elegantly into it. Her silver hair is loose and long, curling over her shoulders in gentle waves. She looks the same way she looked one week ago when she left, and you've never seen anything so beautiful in your life.

You're running before you can stop yourself, crumbling into her warm embrace, with more tears streaking down your face, but she doesn't mind.

"Shh. It's alright honey." She whispers, rubbing her hand over your back, her embrace steady and surprisingly strong. "Let's go home."

Her home is the same as it's always been. A two story Victorian house painted in a happy yellow shade, with a white wrap around porch and two white rocking chairs sitting empty on the front porch. You'd spent more nights than you could count rocking silently beside her with a crochet project in your lap listening to the rain fall and soak the world outside, while the plants sang praises with every gentle bend beneath the heavy droplets.

You could barely remember the home you spent in your early years with your parents, not when you'd spent most of your childhood spending the night here and after your parents died living here permanently. There was still a large oak tree were a wooden swing swung in the slight breeze on the left side of the yard, a gardenia bush that stretched as high as the second story on the right side of the house and brushed it's soft leaves against the sunshine colored outer walls, a garden filled with both flowering plants and herbs that perked up on both sides of the front yard as you walked up the path, and a cobblestone path that Annie and you had spent hours of your shared childhood covering in chalk art.

Neither of you were good, but when the rain would fall and smudge the clean lines, you'd jump in the puddles that pooled along the walkway singing the lyrics to ABBA's "Cassandra" not quite understanding what it meant.

Standing here outside your house made you miss Annie and feel worse about not calling or texting her back, but you didn't feel like talking about what happened and you were sure that Butcher filled her in. The only thing that you wanted was to collapse in your bedroom upstairs and curl under the comforters.

Despite everything the house was a welcome sight, but at the same time it was different. You could feel the plants calling out to you, asking for you, bending towards you just to touch your shoes as you walked by. You'd never felt so connected with them before, not even when you were in your apartment or working at the shop.  It was overwhelming.

And although a part of you was frightened by it, another part of you rejoiced in it. You didn't feel alone, didn't feel weak, and you knew that you never would ever again.

The creature nuzzled into the side of your neck with a sigh, soaking up the sun's healing rays as you walked up the front steps with your grandmother following behind you silently. She hadn't spoken since she picked you up at the bus station and you hadn't supplied anything in the ten minute car ride back to her house.

You didn't know where to start and you were still trying to process everything yourself.

The inside of her house was just as cozy and warm as it was the day you moved out. There were photos of your parents and you covering the walls (Darren's had been placed in the closet long ago), half-finished knitting projects sorted in different baskets on both the dining room table and the living room coffee table, spools of yarn were strewn over the couch sorted by color, and the fresh smell of gardenia wafted through the open windows on the breeze.

It was home. This was what you'd been missing the moment everything began to crash over you, but as you stood there in the familiar living room it felt like something was missing. Something tugged at the back of your mind, but you couldn't put your finger on it.

There was something or rather someone that should be here, but you didn't know what or who. And your mind supplied Annie, but you weren't sure that's who you meant.

"Let's have some tea." Your grandmother says from behind you and you feel her soft hands come down on your shoulders to steer you through the familiar creative chaos and into the large kitchen at the back of the house.

The kitchen isn't spared from the madness, it rarely was. There are boxes upon boxes of cookies in different stages of being packaged all over the counter, dirty bowls and a measuring cup stacked in the sink, and a large opened bag of chocolate chips spilling over the flour covered kitchen island.

It wasn't unusual to find the kitchen or the house in a state of chaos, your grandmother always said that a house should look lived in and that the mess was part of the fun of any major project as long as you were responsible enough to clean it up.

"Bake sale?" You ask as you sit down in the breakfast nook, uttering the first words that you'd said to another human being in twenty hours.

The next breath that you inhale was supposed to be cleansing, but you can still feel a weight pressing down on your chest, the same one that settled in the moment everything happened with Darren.

You contemplate again how you're going to tell her that Darren is dead and was the reason why your parents died.

Damn it Darren.

"Mhmm." She hums, filling the well used red kettle. "Annie's mother practically cornered me in the supermarket yesterday and begged me to make cookies. I love Annie, but her mother needs someone to pull that stick out of her ass. It's been up there for so long that I'm sure it's rotten."

The creature crawls down from your shoulders and down your arm to sniff at one of the chocolate chip cookies nearest you. It hadn't eaten since…

Darren.

You wince slightly at the thought and hope that you hadn't created something that needed and craved human flesh. The last thing you wanted to unleash on the world was Audry two especially in the wake of Homelander.

Truthfully you were waiting for the guilt at killing your brother to come, but it never had and you wondered if it ever would.

Probably not. He deserved that, he killed our parents, he tried to kill me, he tried to kill Ben.

The thought of Ben again makes a lump form in the back of your throat. You didn't know what was happening to you only that you felt guilty for leaving him like that, for yelling at him to let you go, and just vanishing on him when he probably thought that you were going back to the apartment.

He doesn't know where I am. Maybe that's why he tried to call, because he got back to the apartment and couldn't find me there and he was worried. You press your lips together. Yeah. Worried. Right.

"Honey?" Your grandmother says in a soothing voice

You look up from the box of chocolate chip cookies that you didn't remember picking up. Even the creature is looking at you with an expression that you can only explain as worry.

"Yeah?" Your voice shakes slightly.

She's leaning back against the counter, arms crossed over her chest, head tilted slightly to the side, her beautiful grayed hair pulled up in an elegant bun, but in her eyes you can see genuine concern. "Fuck." She sighs after a minute.

You blink in surprise. It was the first time that you'd ever heard her say that word in your entire life.

"I shouldn't have left." She breathes. "I told Ben to look out for you. I told him, that little bastard was bound to show up again and what did he do? He left you at that plant shop alone with no protection!"

You'd only seen her really angry a handful of times in your lifetime. Like you, your grandmother often had a gentle disposition and didn't get angry unless the situation called for it.

I mean, Darren admitted to killing our parents and then got fucking ripped apart. But how does she know about any of that? I haven't told her…

"How did you know that he left me there? Did Ben call you?" You ask putting down the box of cookies.

An odd expression crosses her face, as if she's contemplating something. "No." She hesitates again. "I saw it."

"No." Your grandmother hesitates. "I saw it."

"You saw it?" You repeat, confused.

What's going on?

"Too late of course, but I'm a little rusty. I was able to warn Ben that Darren was coming back. That's how he got there so quickly or rather-" She shrugs sheepishly. "He got there in time to make sure that Darren didn't get you to forgive him. Which you shouldn't have at all, but I know he's always had a talent for manipulating you."

"What?"

Is she saying what I think she's saying?

Instead of explaining further your grandmother walks out of the kitchen, leaving the kettle behind on the stove and you in a state of utter confusion.

Is she saying that she can see the future? Because that would mean that she's a supe and there's only one supe in history that I know of that can do that. A supe that no one has seen in over forty years.

You can hear her open the door to the closet under the stairs and the sound of her sifting through all the junk that the two of you had shoved in there over the years instead of finding the right place to put it.

When she comes back into the kitchen, she's holding a giant cardboard file box that you'd never paid attention to each time you opened the closet to find something. Your eyes shift from the box to her still not comprehending exactly what she was saying.

"I probably should have told you this a while ago, but…" She trails off and nods her head at the box before turning back to the kettle on the stove that has begun to scream. "I kept putting it off."

The box is old, worn at the edges, and theres a musty black fabric beneath a collection of yellowed photographs. You pull out the one on top to examine it.

Ben is standing there in his full Soldier Boy regalia outside of Vought tower and the woman standing next to him is Soothsayer. The outfit she wore was familiar, a black-skin tight suit with a blind fold tied over her eyes.

Soothsayer was a supe who could see the future and who was apart of Payback, a supe that had vanished a year before the mission in Nicaragua and no one knew where she went. There were rumors that she'd died and that she'd been a Russian spy, but you'd never believed them. You'd heard Butcher talk about how he tried to find her when he was trying to figure out what happened to Soldier Boy, but he never had. Said that the trail went cold.

But now you knew where she went, because she was standing directly in front of you.

She's Soothsayer? Holy fuck that's why Ben kept accusing her of cheating in the poker game because he knew that she could see the future.

"You were Soothsayer?" You gasp. "But why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell me?"

She continues to measure the tea leaves. "I didn't tell anyone."

"Grandpa didn't know? But he was alive when you were a supe?"

Your grandfather had never spoken about a history with supes that you remember.

"No." She turns to look at you, a hurt expression crossing over her face for a minute. "Well, I know that I said I was going to have tea, but if we're going to talk about this I'm going to need something a little bit stronger."

Your grandmother opens a cabinet under the stove an pulls out an enormous bottle of scotch. Truth be told you'd never seen her drink more than just a glass of wine, to see her like this was about as shocking as seeing a polar bear sunning itself on a Florida beach.

"Do you still want the blueberry tea or do you need something a little stronger?" She looks back over her shoulder at you as she pulls down a glass for herself.

"I think I need something stronger." You answer honestly.

Learning about everything Darren had done was one thing, but finding out that your grandmother used to be a famous supe and that she never told you about it was another thing. It was like looking at another person. You'd always loved your grandmother's gentle way, her care for her community and her family soft, but now you weren't sure you really knew who she was.

She sits down across from you and hands you a glass of the amber colored liquid. There's a heavy silence that hangs between the two of you as she tries to find a way to start. The photo of her and Ben is laying on top of what you realize is her uniform inside the box and she smiles down at the photo, just a little twitch at the corner of her lips.

"I met Ben when I was twenty three years old." She begins taking a sip from the glass. "Legend 'discovered' me. I had the injection of Compound V maybe two years before that, not when I was born, but I hadn't gotten popular. Other powers were much more flashy and by then there were so many heroes coming out of the woodwork that someone with the ability to see the future didn't seem as marketable."

There's something reflected in her blue eyes, the same eyes your father had, that you can't place. "I had just moved to New York, I had no money, and the way I was getting it was by pretending to be a fortune teller and betting on some sports events on the side. It wasn't hard to prove that I could see the future, the past was more difficult, but Legend somehow stumbled into my shop and figured out that I was a supe. And he didn't think I was too bad looking so he helped me get big."

"You pretended to be a fortune teller?"

She snorts into her glass. "Mhmm. People really will believe anything if they're desperate enough and back then there was so much turmoil going on with Russia that people were scared and wanted to feel comforted. My job provided some of that."

"But why did you walk away from it if you were such a big hero." You ask. "Everyone knew your name, you were-"

Your grandmother raises an eyebrow at you and you fall silent so she can continue. "When I got onto Payback that's when everything exploded for me, the films, the commercials, the ridiculous ads." She sighs. "That's also when I met Ben."

You take a sip from the glass in front of you, sputtering slightly. It was stronger than you were expecting. "And you two were-"

Please don't say dating, please don't say dating, please don't say…

"Friends. Just friends." Diana sits back against the back of the breakfast nook, sinking into the navy blue pillows. "But he is almost as charming now as he was then."

You cringe at the thought of Ben coming on to a younger version of your grandmother.

She taps her glass with her index finger deep in thought. "But I think that I was the only person that Ben actually talked to, the only person that he was comfortable being around."

"What do you mean?" You ask confused. "Didn't he talk to Countess and to Legend?"

Her expression hardens at the mention of Countess's name. "He didn't talk to her the way he talked to me. Ben is difficult, he always has been and I think that most of the people he meet him write him off as this asshole with a chauvinistic look on the world, but he's not. At least, not all the time. There are so many people that he's met that are never willing to take a chance on him. To trust that there is really something beneath all of that bravado."

It was what you had been thinking for the past week, that there was more to Ben than he was willing to let people see, but you were slowly realizing that Ben was letting you see those parts. In the quiet moments at your shared apartment when he sat with you while you read or made you laugh or walked you to and from work you saw another side of Ben that you never saw when he was around anyone else. The guilt rises again when you think of how you ran from him, how you turned your back and left him standing there to clean up your mess.

I shouldn’t have done that, but it was all just so overwhelming and I didn't want to talk to anyone.

"I think that Ben is the most loyal friend I ever had. No one ever seems to believe me when I say that. That we were just friends, but nothing happened between us."

"You didn't date? Or sleep together?" You ask cautiously. It was difficult to imagine Ben being friends with a woman and not having a sexual relationship with her.

Well. We're friends, but that's different.

The last thing you wanted to think about was Ben and your grandmother having sex.

I would need so much therapy after that. You sigh. Yeah, because after all the shit I've been through and found out about my life in the last twenty hours, the knowledge that Ben fucked my grandmother is what's going to push me over the edge.

"No." She shakes her head with a small smile. "About a week after I met Ben, I was running late to a movie shoot and I stepped off the crosswalk without looking. There was a car coming and I didn't see it. Ironic isn't it?" She laughs at herself. "I can see the future and I didn't see a car coming, but your grandfather did and he grabbed the back of my jacket and yanked me onto the sidewalk, saved my life. And the second my eyes locked with his I saw our future. I saw our wedding, our first house, I saw our son take his first steps and I saw how much I would love him and how much he would love me." She clears her throat for a minute, her fingers tighten on the glass, and her gaze drops to the wedding ring on her left hand. “The future is never set in stone, it’s fluid. It morphs and shapes with your decisions, but in the future I saw, I was so happy. And I didn’t want to lose that.”

Your grandfather had passed a few years ago, but you knew it weighed on her everyday. She had spent the week after he died in her room not saying anything to anyone. And sometimes she'd look out the window into the backyard with an odd expression, but you knew that meant she was thinking of him.

Growing up you'd seen how in love the two of them were, more so than your parents. Seen the flowers your grandfather always brought home just because he was thinking of her, watched him do little things around the house without being asked, saw how they never walked away angry from one another, and seen the soppy expression he'd get when he watched your grandmother move around the kitchen baking with a grace that you'd never possessed.

You reach across the table to touch her hand and she takes it gratefully.

"I didn't want to tell him that I was a supe, and at the beginning I thought I could balance it all, but then Ben started dating Countess." She takes another sip from her glass. "She hated me."

"What? Why?" You ask. The creature crawls across the table to sniff at the glass in front of you, before it snorts and falls into your lap, curling into a ball.

"Countess was a bitch." Your grandmother says mirthlessly, her expression hardening. "She wanted to possess Ben completely. Only loved how famous he was, how popular it made her, and he threw himself at her feet, in his own way, not understanding that love didn’t look that way. He’s never had a good example of it in his life. And she never understood that Ben and I were just friends. By then I had been dating your grandfather for a few months and things were getting serious. It was about a year before everything that happened in Nicaragua."

She presses her lips together as if remembering what happened to Ben there. "She was jealous, possessive, and she came to me one night. Ben was out of town for a film so she knew we wouldn’t be interrupted. She threatened to tell your grandfather who I really was and threatened to kill him.” Her jaw sets. “My powers were never really as offensive as hers were. And she said that Ben wouldn’t ever protect me over her because he loved her and would do anything to make her happy. So I left and I never looked back.”

And here I thought I couldn't hate Countess any more than I did for what she did to Ben.

“You didn’t talk to him ever again?” You wonder out loud.

She left without telling him goodbye?

“There was the occasional phone call. Sometimes Ben would ask me to see who was going to win a ball game or something so he could make a few bucks. He stopped by to say hi a few times because he was in the neighborhood. One time he brought your father a baseball glove that was way too big for a one year old.” She snorts, the memory flashing in her eyes. “I always thought Ben would be a good dad some day. But I think seeing your father was when Ben realized how much he wanted to have kids. And I think seeing the way your grandfather treated me made him start to feel conflicted about Countess. But he respected that I walked away, he saw that I was happy.”

“But what about Nicaragua?"

A dark look crosses her face followed by something that looks suspiciously like guilt. “I saw what they were going to do to him.”

“What? But why didn't you tell him what they were planning? Why didn't you-"

"I tried." She snaps, shoulders tense, but then they drop. "I called Ben, but Stan answered. By then your father was turning two, your grandfather had opened up his practice, and Stan threatened me, he knew where we were and knew everything about us. So I kept my mouth shut and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

You could feel your heart breaking for her.

Ben was her best friend and she had to sit by and watch them do that to him. She saw what they were going to do and they were going to kill her for it, kill my family for it.

The anger that surges in your chest makes the creature in your lap stir and grow a few inches, but you tamp it down before it gets bigger than a small dog.

“Does Ben know?” You ask her to distract yourself.

You didn't want Ben to hate your grandmother for this, didn't want him to hate her for something that wasn't her fault.

She nods. “Yes. I told him everything.”

“When?”

“The moment I saw him in your hospital room. I couldn’t keep it in any longer. I wasn't expecting him to be there, but it all poured out of me. I was so surprised to see him there. I hadn't seen a future where he came back."

“Was he mad?”

I mean… he didn't seem mad when I woke up, not to mention he was upset when she left to come back to Illinois.

“Not at me.” She shakes her head. “He knew how much I wanted a normal life and how much I loved your grandfather. He doesn’t blame me for any of it.”

“Good. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

The glass in front of you is still more than half-full but you don't want to risk another sip of what you're sure is gasoline packaged to look like Scotch. Your grandmother reaches to pour herself another glass.

“I didn’t want to until you were ready.”

“And when would that be?”

Your grandmother shrugs. “Maybe on my deathbed.”

You weren't angry for her not telling you, more surprised, but now that you knew everything about her it was hard to see her the same way you had.

 You snort. “And no one knew?”

“Your dad figured it out.”

“How? When?”

“The moment you made that strawberry plant grow from your high chair.” She shakes her head with a smile. “It skipped a generation. Don’t know why, but you got it all somehow.”

“I was never injected?”

“No. That was a lie your father created. He knew that your grandfather didn't know and he knew that I didn't want your grandfather to know."

“Darren thought I was.”

“I know.”

At the mention of your brother's name, you watch her expression harden and she takes another swig from the glass in front of her, not flinching as the liquid goes down her throat.

“Did you see everything that happened?” You ask in a small voice.

You still weren't 100% sure how it was her powers worked, but you figured that she was able to see some of what Darren did and what he said.

“Yes.”

“You heard everything Darren said?"

“Yes.”

You chew the inside of your cheek for a minute hoping that she didn't take it as hard as you did. “Did you know that he killed them?”

“No.” She breathes, rolling the glass between her hands for a moment. “The night they died, I got a vision a few minutes before the car ran off the road. I was the one who called the police and who told them where to look, but I never saw that it was Darren or that it was anyone causing the accident. All I saw was the three of you in the car. I should have known.” Her voice breaks.

“It’s not your fault.” You squeeze her hand.

“And it’s not yours either.” She squeezes your hand back.

The memories are beginning to float up from the recesses of your mind and your teeth clench together as you try to keep them at bay.

“I know.” You breathe. The memory of the ruined shop flashes through your head. “I didn’t know that I could do something like that.” You gently touch your healed right arm and glance at the creature that is nibbling on the edge of the cardboard box with its sharp splinter-like teeth. “I feel so different and I don’t know how to go back to the way I was.”

“I don’t think you ever will.”

"Really?"

The thought was unwelcome. You were hoping that all of this was going to blow over, but you knew it wouldn't. Your powers had changed. There was an energy that thrummed in your veins now, stretching out of the house to the plants that grew in the garden. You could feel them all if you concentrated.

She frowns. “When you told me that you were working for Butcher I was worried about you getting involved in the supe world. I didn’t want that life for you, didn’t want you to suffer the way I did-“

“Was it really that bad?"

“Not all the time, just at the end. But I think that’s why I loved your grandfather so much. Because he was different than all the supes. He was down to earth, not just normal but-“ She shrugs. “I think Compound V does something to our minds, makes them more susceptible and when you’re surrounded by people using their powers and thinking that they’re gods it’s easy to lose who you are. I was glad I left when I did."

“Great." You huff, thinking about how your powers had grown exponentially since you killed your brother. It was scaring you to think that you would reach a point where you acted like Homelander, where you saw yourself as a god and killed anyone who stood in your way.

As tired as the stereotype of you only being able to make the flowers grow, you liked doing that. You liked healing plants, tending to them, and helping them grow. For you it had never been about using your powers the way that you had to kill Elijah and your brother and had always been about spreading a little more joy and love like your grandmother did with her kindness in her community.

Your mind flashes back to the first night that Ben stayed with you in your apartment and he'd asked you why you worked for Butcher and told you that he thought you "didn't fit."

Before you hadn't. You knew that. You weren't intimidating to look at or fueled by revenge or had a bone to pick with supes. You'd joined because you thought it was the right thing to do and because you wanted to be closer with Annie. She had been so involved in the supe world and you'd felt like you were losing your best friend. When in reality being at "Please Don't Die" was the only thing that felt natural for you.

You could feel yourself changing and you weren't sure that you wanted to and you weren't sure if you were changing for the better. Deep down you still felt like you, despite everything Darren had revealed, but your powers were greater than you'd thought they could be.

“No.” She squeezes your hand pulling you out of your head. “I don’t see you losing yourself in this.”

“You’ve seen-“ Your eyes widen.

“The future yeah.” Her lips twitch up at the ends in a smile. “It is what I do.”

“That’s so weird.”

You hadn't meant to say it, but you really didn't want to know too much about your future.

Well, not all that much. Maybe just a little.

“You of all people have no right to judge what’s weird. Not with Godzilla sitting in your lap.”

"Godzilla" yawns, flashing a mouthful of his pointy teeth, before settling back down on your thighs.

You smile for the first time in twenty hours, but then it drops. “I don’t like losing control. I thought I knew who I was but now I don’t-“ The emotions were bubbling up again, chest tightening, and lungs beginning to gasp for air. “I don’t know who I am anymore or what I am or what I can do and-“

“There’s nothing wrong with not being in control.”

“But what if I hurt someone? What if I kill-“ You body shakes as you think about all the important people in your life, Annie, Hughie, Butcher, Kimiko, MM, Frenchie- and then your mind stutters on Ben.

“Your powers are growing and there’s nothing to be afraid of or ashamed of. If you’re afraid of them it won’t get easier for you. You have to embrace the fear to see the lights that line the path through it.”

"I killed Darren, I killed Elijah-"

"Not because you lost control. You did it because you were protecting yourself and protecting your friends."

"But-"

"Who is it that you're scared of hurting? Annie?" Her expression turns sympathetic. "Annie is a supe and understands what it's like to lose control. None of us are in control all the time and it's ridiculous to believe that you won't lose control at least once."

Your throat clenches tightly, because when she asked the question you didn't see Annie's face, you saw Ben's. You knew that it was probably ridiculous to worry about hurting a guy with a nuclear reactor stuffed in his chest or a guy who'd been through every torture known to man, but you were. And you weren't entirely sure if you meant hurting him with just your powers.

Tears crest and fall down your cheeks as you sit there, throat thickening. "I don't want to hurt Ben."

"He's a little more indestructible than us sweetie." She cracks a smile, but you can't smile back and you don't answer because you're unsure how to.

She sits back against the breakfast nook and sighs, examining your face and slowly realizes what you mean. "Ben is complicated. He always has been. I like to think that most of it, is his father's fault. Has he told you anything about him?"

You shake your head.

"He was a dick. Made Ben think that he was a disappointment his whole life. I don't think that Ben has had someone love him unconditionally since his mother died. And loving Countess only made it worse for him. Her love was jealous, possessive, and I don't think that he's really come to terms with what real love should look like." She lets out a breath, tapping her index finger against the glass. "I never saw him as more than a friend, but I do love him. It's not a crime to love him."

"I don't love him." You say it immediately.

"Why not?"

"What?" You sputter. "I don't know what you're-"

"Tell me why you don't love him." Your grandma says methodically, as if she's trying to talk you through it.

"Because I-" The pressure was back in the back of your throat and you couldn't quite meet her eye. "Because-" You scramble for the answer, trying your darndest to keep your heart from clenching in your chest. "I want what you and grandpa had, what Annie and Hughie have, and what my parents had. A strong relationship with someone who sees all my flaws, the little parts, and the darkness and still choses to fall in love with me anyway. I don't want just one night I want every night. I want something real and Ben has said countless times that he-"

"So you've talked about it with Ben?" She raises an eyebrow.

"Only because he kept trying to sleep with me and I told him that I didn't want to have sex with him." You reply exasperated.

"You don't?"

"Gran!"

"What? He's attractive."

"It doesn't matter. None of it does. Because Ben has said that he doesn't have relationships, that he doesn't care about feelings, or emotions." Saying the words that Ben had told you countless times made something inside begin to shrivel up and die. "And I do. And I don't want to manipulate him into being something he's not or force him into a relationship that's doomed from the beginning. Ben is Ben. He's not changing or-"

"He has." She interrupts.

"What?"

"The Ben I saw in your hospital room is not the one I knew." She says it so matter of fact that makes it hard to breathe. "And neither was the one that I saw in your apartment when I stayed with you. I mean he is in essence Ben, but-"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"He is changing. Not completely, but he's acting differently than when he was with Countess. I mean, I saw all the things he did for her. The way he was around her."

"Why does that matter?"

"Because he loved her."

The words make your heart seize in your chest. "Ben doesn't love me. He's my roommate and my friend-" It was the same thing that you kept telling yourself on repeat to beat back the other feelings that you hadn't quite identified yet. "And he's told me that he doesn't want a relationship and that I should try to meet other people."

That last part was a lie, but you honestly didn't know where she was going with this conversation or why it was getting so hard to breathe.

"Have you thought that maybe Ben doesn't want to love you because he's scared?"

"He doesn't love me and Ben isn't afraid of anything."

"He is. It might not look the same way on him as it does on everyone else, but if you pay close enough attention you can catch it." She hesitates. "And I think if you pay attention to you, you'll see what it is that you're afraid of too."

What does she mean? What the hell am I afraid of? Ben isn't afraid of anything, he's practically shouted that from the mountaintops like Julie Andrews.

"I already told you what I'm afraid of."

"I'm not talking about you hurting someone honey. There's something else that you refuse to admit to yourself because you're scared." She smiles sadly at you. "You should though, because when you embrace it, what comes after is really beautiful." There's a far off look in her eyes and you realize that she'd seen something further ahead that she wasn't letting on.

"And it's all I want for you. To be happy." Your grandmother stands from the other side of the booth "I think you need some rest. You drove all night long and I doubt you got any sleep. And I have to package all of these before Annie's mother calls down the four horsemen of the Apocalypse on me."

"Wait-"

"Please sweetie." She lays her hand down on your arm. "I think you'll feel a little better about all of this when you've had some rest." Her fingers raise to push back some of the hair that's fallen forward into your eyes. "Hmm?"

You didn't want to rest, you wanted to talk about this, but you knew better than to argue with her. Not to mention she was right, you hadn't slept.

"And when you wake up I'll make your favorite for dinner, alright?" She smiles, but there's something behind it that you can't place.

"Okay."

And this time you don't argue with her. You go up the worn staircase that you have your entire life and collapse onto your bed, wondering exactly what it was she saw your future hold, and what it is that you won't admit to yourself.

Soldier Boy POV

There was no light in the apartment save from the burning red tip of Ben's blunt and the bluish glow emanating from the tv that caught the dips and sharp edges of his face. But it was nothing more than background noise.

His hand absentmindedly stroked along Bean's back, his eyes focused on the ceiling above the couch. He hadn't moved in hours. It had been over twenty four hours since everything that happened at the plant shop, since you'd summoned a creature from the depths of the store, since Darren had thrown Ben through the plate glass windows of the bakery, and since Ben had last seen you.

He didn't understand why you hadn't let him take you back to the apartment and why it was that you had to leave. Ben hadn't liked the feeling that stabbed him in the chest when you turned your back on him and ran away. He'd felt the urge to comfort you the way he'd watched Hughie do for Annie in the car a week ago, but you hadn't let him.

Instead all he'd done is stood there and watched you run, still covered in dust, rubble, and blood. Worse was you hadn't let him check you for injuries and Ben hated the thought that you were hurt somewhere and he didn't know where you were.

You were so much more fragile than he was. He was realizing that more every day, was acutely aware of it after everything that happened with Elijah. Honestly, sitting there in the hospital with you laying there asleep with nothing that he could do, but wait for you to wake up had been agony. Not to mention that looking at the bruises around your throat, over your eye, and the bright green cast only made him feel worse. He'd never felt so helpless in his entire life and he hated it. Because Ben wasn't some helpless damsel in distress, he was a man and a man shouldn't wait on anyone or feel out of control, or at least, that's what he told himself.

Ben hears someone walk down the hallway outside the apartment and he perks up to listen, hoping that it's you finally coming home. Ben's mind stutters on the word "home." He'd lived many places in his life, apartments that felt more like way-stations, and the drafty cold mansion back in Philadelphia where he grew up, but neither felt like home. And although he hated how small your apartment was, it was the first place that Ben liked living in. He was starting to understand the word home.

But the feet keep moving past the apartment and Ben sinks into the couch cushions. Even Bean seems to be disappointed. "It's alright buddy." Ben mutters. "She'll come back."

But he wasn't sure.

Ben also wasn't used to feeling this way. It was close to the way that he felt when he went to Boston and was sitting in that damn hotel room waiting for something to happen and he still didn't understand what it meant. He didn't understand why he couldn't stand it that you weren't back yet. It made him feel like a woman waiting for her husband to get home from work when he told her that he was "running late." He'd tried to distract himself by looking at some possible prospects on Tinder, but just like the week after you'd come home from the hospital and just like the date he had in Boston, no one held any appeal.

His mind was awake and roaming around, pacing back and forth. The blunt was supposed to help, but it hadn't.

His phone chirps and Ben picks it up to look at the screen, but it's not you, it's Jake.

Jake: I know that I'm not your favorite person, but thank you for what you did.

Ben huffs and turns his phone face down on the couch once more. "What a fucking pussy."

When you left Ben had realized that Jake was still inside the building and as much as he wanted race after you, he understood that you'd be even more upset if you'd killed Jake. So Ben had tromped back through the building and found him trapped beneath some rubble. Jake was okay, just unconscious, but Ben had carried him out and put him on the sidewalk before he high tailed it out of there. The last thing that he wanted was to be caught with a shredded body outside a ruined building.

I didn't do it for him. I did it for her. Ben thinks to himself, looking down at the text message.

As much as he hated the thought of saving your future boyfriend, he didn't want to see what it did to you if you found out that you killed Jake, so he'd done it to avoid watching you cry again.

Ben didn't understand why he hated watching you cry.

Women cry. They're damn emotional all the time. He tries to reason with himself taking a puff from the blunt pinched between his thumb and forefinger. And she fucking cries way too much.

The image of you crying outside of the shop in the wake of everything that happened pricks something under his ribcage. Fuck.

Ben didn't feel remorse for what happened, well, the only thing he regretted was not getting there sooner and getting to fuck Darren up himself. When Diana had called him to tell him that Darren was coming, Ben had practically ripped the apartment door off in his haste to get back to you. He hadn’t wanted to leave you at the plant shop, but Butcher had told Ben, that he had a possible location for Darren, but it came up empty and Ben had been at Butcher's apartment chewing him out for sending him on a fucking wild goose chase.

It only made Ben more angry to allow Darren to speak to you, but he was trying to let you handle it even though he wanted to handle him. But it had brought him an unholy amount of joy to throw Darren in front of that minivan and to watch that creature tear him apart while the final whitish blue pulses of electricity jumped and crackled down the street making the streetlights shower sparks everywhere.

But Ben was more upset that Darren had been able to land a few hits on you before you killed him.

Ben remembered the giant lizard that crawled out of what was left of "Please Don't Die" and felt his lips quirk up into a smile. As much as he hated the entire situation, Ben couldn't help but feel a little surge of pride at what you'd done to your brother. He'd never seen you look so powerful standing there in the street, your eyes glowing a brilliant green, arms outstretched, and the ground trembling around you as the world begged to be unleashed.

Of course he'd been just as surprised as you were at the fact that you'd healed your broken arm. He wasn't sure if you'd noticed it yet, but you looked different too. There weren't as many lines on your face and your hair was more springy, the few silver hairs that Ben had noticed in passing were no longer there.

He wasn't sure what that meant, but there was something that felt suspiciously like hope tingling in his stomach, hope that you weren't as fragile anymore and hope that it meant you wouldn't die.

When Diana had told Ben that her husband had died, he saw the pain in her eyes when she said it, saw her relieving the memory, and for some reason as soon as she said that he was dead, the first thing Ben thought about was you. Ben hadn't considered his inability to age as much in the past, hadn't cared about outliving anyone before. Seeing Countess as an older woman had made him more aware of it. Looking at the woman who he once thought he loved, had showed him what that was like. Not that he had a problem with daring older women, Ben always thought that women really did get better with age, but it was what came next that Ben wasn't fond of.

And for some reason thinking that one day he'd wake up and see the marks of age on your face or one day he'd wake up and he wouldn't be able to annoy you or hear you yell at him made his chest tight.

Ben takes another hit of his blunt. The longer he sat there the more then unnatural feeling stirred in the pit of his stomach, thrumming through his veins, the feeling that he was trying to avoid. He thought that the joint would calm him down, but he found himself jumping at every creak and footstep in the apartment building, perking up each time and hoping that it was you coming home.

He didn't know where you were. You hadn't answered any of his texts or calls and Ben was ashamed at how many times that he had tried to call you.

Get a fucking grip. He'd thought to himself when he typed out another text message to send you, stopping himself from sending it.

But he'd been so desperate to hear from you that he'd actually gone to talk to Annie who seemed upset that she couldn't get ahold of you either. When Hughie and Annie had seen how upset Ben had been, Hughie had laid his hand on Ben's arm and told him not to worry. Ben had yelled at him that he "wasn't fucking worried and to mind his own business" and had shaken off Hughie's comforting hand before stomping out of the shared apartment.

No one else seemed to be as concerned about finding you. Butcher, MM, and Frenchie were all deeply involved in trying to figure out the cover-up for what happened outside the plant shop. By some miracle no one had caught a picture of your face, but there was little they could do about Darren's body that had been strewn across the street. Annie was having to deal with the repercussions at work, trying to handle what the news was calling a "super villain threat."

Personally, Ben thought that since they froze Homelander, the Seven looked weak and Ben believed that the superhero team that represented America shouldn't look weak. Of course before Ben had also thought that they looked like a bunch of pussies and again felt himself sink deeper into the couch when he thought about what his supposed son had become.

He shakes off the feelings he has about it and his thoughts turn back inevitably to you.

Ben wasn't used to thinking about someone as much as he thought of you, but each time he settled back into the apartment and you weren't there he was hyperaware of how quiet it was.

Maybe I should call Diana. She might know where she is.

As soon as Ben thinks that, his phone begins to ring, but Ben doesn't bother to look at who it is before he answers it. 

"Hello?" Ben huffs out a breath of smoke that hangs in the air in front of his face, catching in the bluish light coming from the television.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" The voice on the other side of the line yells at him.

"Di?"

"Yes it's me. Who did you think it was? Santa Clause?" Your grandmother snarks.

"Why are you calling me and why the fuck are you so mad? What did I do?" Ben answers slightly annoyed.

As much as you got under his skin, your grandmother had been the same way. He actually thought that it was amusing that even before he figured out that she was your grandmother that he had often compared you to her in his mind. You had the same mannerisms, the same defiant and stubborn attitude that drove Ben up the wall, and you were just as beautiful as she was.

Ben was okay with admitting that he was attracted to you. To him that felt normal, it was the other feelings that he was conflicted about, the ones that he'd never felt before stirring in his chest that made him feel "too emotional" and "woman-like."

Truthfully, Ben was sure that if your grandmother had given him a shot that maybe he would have felt that way about her too. She was the only person that Ben actually trusted in the 80's, the only person that was brave enough to call him out on all his shit. You did that now. But he liked her husband also, so Ben was content with letting her go. He liked how happy that Henry, your grandfather, had made her. He knew that she wasn't happy as a supe and seeing her so happy and in love made Ben feel something that was close to happiness.

And it was seeing the way the two of them were together made Ben wonder if what he had with Countess was the same thing. Because he did have feelings about her that were different, but each time he went to visit Diana and saw your father playing on her lap he felt that there was something missing in his life.

It was the same way that he thought something was missing when you weren't in the apartment, but Ben hadn't realized that yet.

"Because I don't understand what the hell you're doing!" Diana replies and Ben honestly doesn't know why she's angry with him.

"About what?"

"My granddaughter."

Ben sits up the blunt in his fingertips forgotten. "Is she there with you?"

"Yes." Her voice softens for a moment.

Ben relaxes and leans back onto the couch, sighing in relief. "Good.  That's good." Relief swelled in his chest when he thought about you staying with her, safe.

That's what she meant when she said that she wanted to go home. Home is with her grandmother. Ben stopped the next thought before he could go there.

The thought that home wasn't with him.

Ben was trying not to think about that or think about you hating him. He didn't think you did, well, didn't think you did anymore. At first it really was touch and go, but now he was almost eighty percent sure after you'd told him more than once that you weren't afraid of him and didn’t hate him that you sometimes wanted him around.

"No, not good."

"What do you mean? Is she okay?" Ben's grip on the phone tightens so hard that he's sure that he hears the screen cracking.

"No."

"What happened?" Ben's voice is a growl, the feelings of relief evaporating as soon as they had begun to bloom in his chest. He mentally calculated how long it would take him to get to you.

"Her entire life fucking fell apart and where are you? Not here!"

Oh. Ben relaxed a little bit.

"I don't need to be there." He says on an exhale of smoke.

"Yes you do!" Diana presses.

"No, I don't. She a big girl she doesn't need me there, she's-" Ben takes a puff from the joint.

“If you were any denser you’d be a Bundt cake Benjamin!” She says exasperated.

"What the fuck are you talking about doll? I am not-"

“Let me guess." She interrupts and Ben can imagine her tapping her foot. He hated when she did that. "You’re moping around smoking a blunt on the couch probably with a glass of something that you're hoping to numb whatever the hell it is you're feeling."

Ben's eyes shift to the bottle of whiskey on the coffee table that he hadn't touched in a few minutes.

“I’m not fucking moping and stop spying on me!” He snaps back at Diana.

He hated how well she knew him. She was his best friend in the 80's through all the shit, she had seen him at his worst and at his best too many times to count.

“I don’t have to use my powers to know what you’re doing. I know you Ben.”

"Sorry to disappoint you sweetheart.” Ben grits his teeth, temper flaring hot. “But if you know me as well as you fucking say you do then you then you know that this is-“

“You avoiding your feelings by acting aloof and brooding like a fucked up version of Mr. Darcy.” She interrupts.

She certainly hasn't changed.

“I am not avoiding-“

“She needs you here Ben.” Diana stamps her foot, the same way you do when Ben pisses you off, and Ben can hear it.

“She doesn’t need me! She said that she wanted to go home, that she didn’t want to be here with me! I tried to-“ Ben shouts back standing up. It was the exact thing that he'd been thinking for the past twenty four hours, that you didn’t need him and that you didn't want to be any where near him.

That last thought made an uncomfortable sensation prickle in his gut when he thought it, because all it did was remind him of how you acted when the two of you first met, when you didn't want him to live with you and tried your darndest to make him go away.

He didn’t want to and he wasn't sure why that was.

“Try harder.” Diana interrupts him again and frankly it was pissing him off.

Ben clenches his jaw. “I think that you’ve confused me with someone else baby.”

“Don’t you 'baby' me Benjamin! We both know that you’re doing what you always do when things get hard for you.”

“And what’s that?”

“You pretend not to care and shut out everyone who tries to care for you. Not to mention you drown yourself in drugs, booze, and women.”

“She doesn’t care about me!” He spits.

“She does!” Diana snaps back. “And believe it or not she needs you here and she wants you here.”

"But-"

"Ben please." It was the first time that he'd heard Diana sound softer and almost pleading since the conversation started. "Don't do this to her. She's worth more than Countess and all those other women you've fallen into bed with."

"Do you really think I don't know that?" He roars. The answer surprises himself. "Do you think I don't know that she's different?"

Wait what?

"If you know that, then why aren't you here?"

He hesitates.

Everything you said to him the night of the party comes roaring back. You looking beautiful in a dress that made his throat tight, and you telling him that you just wanted to be friends and that you understood that he wasn't the type of guy to have relationships. He didn't understand why it stung a bit when you said that, but it had.

Ben thinks about the week that the two of you spent together after Diana went home, when he tried his best to take care of you, distract you from everything that happened with his movies, and would sit with you and try to make you laugh. He'd never wanted to take care of someone before.

Not to mention he kind of liked the way you laughed. He wouldn’t admit that to anyone, but each time you did, it made him want to laugh too. That had never happened to him before. But he wanted to make you laugh to forget everything that happened with Elijah. His fist clenches when he thinks of exactly what Elijah tried to do to you and it makes him feel so mad that he feels close to spontaneously combusting. Ben might not be the best role model when it came to women, but he couldn’t imagine the type of man who would force himself on someone else.

It had made him angry when he thought that you were suggesting that he would try something when he first moved in, because he wasn't that type of man.

Ben was trying to be better for you. He wasn't admitting that, but he really was trying to be better. He didn't understand why. You'd told him countless times that you didn’t want to be with him, that you wanted to be with someone else like Jake.

Ben frowns when he thinks about the man he'd pulled from the rubble of the shop. And again thinks to himself that you should be with someone different, someone who was a supe and could understand you. Ben had seen how difficult it was for Diana when she was keeping her supe life a secret from your grandfather and he didn't want you to have to do that with someone.

"Because I'm not-" Ben begins to say, but he holds his tongue. It was too honest, too raw, too unlike him to admit this to anyone.

Because I'm not this guy. Because I'm not the one she wants. Because I'm not some knight on a white horse. Because she's everything right with the world and I'm just a fucking asshole who sleeps on her couch.

"Ben." Diana breathes and he can practically hear her pinching the bridge of her nose. "In all the years I've known you, you've never done what you did for her with anyone else. You carried her out of that warehouse, you stayed with her in the hospital even after she woke up, you took care of her when she came home, you protected her from Darren. You can't ignore all those things."

"I'm not ignoring them. She's my friend." The word sours in his mouth as he says it. "And she would have done the same thing for me." He knew it was true.

She's a good person and she wouldn't let me chase her away if any of that shit happened to me and I told her to leave me alone.

"Yes she would. Because she cares about you." Diana sighs.

"She doesn't."

"Why don't you believe me?"

"Because she's told me what she wants!" Ben shouts so loudly he can feel the room shaking. "She wants to be friends-“

"Because she doesn't think that you want a relationship you nitwit!"

"I don't." Ben spits the words before he can stop them, but as he does something tightens at the base of his throat.

"How is it that it's been forty fucking years and you're still able to dance on the grave of my last nerve?"

Ben chuckles. "I missed you too sweetheart."

She sighs into the phone again making it crackle in Ben's ear. "She needs you.” Diana repeats. “And I think you need her too.”

His temper was flaring again, the thoughts that his father pressed into him surging up before he can stop the words. “I don’t need anyone. I’m Sol-“

“If you say that you’re Soldier Boy, I’m going to reach through this phone and slap you silly.” She snaps. “And you do need her, but you’re still just too stubborn to admit it.”

“I-“

“Ben I know that everything that happened with Countess was fucked up, but my granddaughter she-“ Diana pauses before she changes the thought.  “You say that you know she’s different, but right now you’re treating her the same way you treat all those other women.”

“I’m not-“

“My granddaughter has decided you’re important to her and once that’s happened it’s hard to make her let go. You saw the way she was with Darren and that guy was a manipulative asshole. Imagine what she thinks of you.”

“I-“

“Stop making excuses!”

“You didn’t even hear what I was going to say!” Ben shouts.

“And I don’t need to! Think what you want Ben but if you’d stop acting so stubborn and so ridiculously blind to what’s right in front of you. I promise that what comes next is worth the risk.”

“Don’t go all fucking mystical on me doll.”

“And don’t go all macho- no feelings asshole on me! So stop being so damn stubborn, get on a plane and get your ass here.” She retorts. “Don’t fuck this up Benjamin because if you do I’ll fuck you up.”

The line goes dead.

Ben sat there for a minute in the silence still holding the phone up to his ear, listening to what your grandmother said to him ring around in his head for a second.

No one ever spoke to him that way. In fact, Ben had never allowed anyone to speak to him the way that she did, well, not until you came along. You reminded him so much of her that it was astounding and he wasn't going to admit that maybe it's why he liked being around you so much.

Ben frowns at what Diana said, thinking about the unusual feelings that were swirling in the pit of his stomach. He felt wrong and the feelings were odd for him. He hadn't felt anything remotely like this ever in his life, not even for Countess.

And although Ben refused to be afraid of anything, the feelings he was having scared him. He didn’t understand and he wasn't sure that he wanted to. He wasn't sure that he wanted to see where this ended up. He felt like he was in too deep.

As much as he wanted to go to you like Diana ordered him to, he wasn't sure that he should. Something was holding him back, digging it's heels in and refusing to budge.

But why do I feel like-

His phone rings and he doesn't look at the caller ID when he picks up, expecting it to be Diana again, yelling at him.

"Di I-"

But it's not Diana.

"Hello Ben. It's nice to hear your voice again." The familiar voice says, sounding calm and collected.

"What the fuck do you want?" Ben snarls.

 "I thought it was time the two of us had a chat.”

A/N: At this point Diana is really just trying to give both Ben and the reader the kick in the pants they need. And yes I know another cliffhanger, but you know you love it. 🤭😉 We are quickly reaching the end of this series, but that means the confession scene is coming and I am so excited about it!!

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, likes, and comments are not required, but are always appreciated. I love hearing what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know. 😊

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

@roger-that-cap @megara0224 @miskwaadesiwag @rainyeggvoidpurse

@soldiergrimes @tiffsbagels @podiumackles

@ifyouwerethemoon @ririshkin @peachhiz @fitxgrld @sukunassfinger

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @ej13928 @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573 @modiddys-blog

@acciosherlockholmes @minas-fantasies @fireskyy

@n-o-p-e-never @nesnejwritings @am0rem @tpwkcalli @momggn

@fitxgrld @whimsicalcherry @ladysparkles78

@spxideyver @zepskies @impala67stellawinchester

@reidtomewinchester @samanthadegaro @glossy01 @nikimisery

@tunnelvisionlove @incandxscents @winchester-stark @samahanta

@melonmochi

@kamisobsessed @whichwitchwanda @karolina-12110905 @jcollins03-blog

@pixviee @filmologetica @yvonneeeee @c1nnamong1rl29 @kmc1989

@livya99 @cherrygirl444

[gracieheartspedro]

Somewhere With You

Part 4 of How Long

pairing: f!reader x brother-in-law!joel miller

FIND Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 HERE!!

description: sleeping with your exes brother is one thing, but envisioning a whole life with him? that's a dangerous game. but you did it. now you're here, and tommy is fucking pissed.

word count: 5.3k

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, pre!outbreak joel, there is smut in this part!! fear of being caught by sarah?, unprotected p in v, oral sex (f receiving), joel is a CONSENT KING, dirty talk, overstimulation, titty fucking (yw caly), light violence, tommy is literally evil.

author's note: jesus christ i'm so glad I am finally here with this. I feel like finishing this is my greatest success in life lmao. I will probably continue this series but this is the last part for a while. I appreciate everyone's love on it and I can't wait to get more stuff out to y'all!

“Are we going to have a celebration when we get home?”

Joel laughs, “Yeah, we can. What did you wanna do?”

You just listen to Sarah list off all the possible ways to celebrate winning the tournament. The movies, going to the mall for new jeans, going to the local ice cream parlor every night of the week. Joel shakes his head at that one as he turns the truck onto the highway. You have your knees up to your chest, the zip up Joel let you borrow hanging off your shoulders. You had complained about how cold you were all weekend, so Joel shut you up by tossing you his zip up. You haven’t taken it off since. 

The sun was setting over the horizon, drawing the Sunday to a close. You had to work in the morning and you were dreading concluding the weekend you spent with Joel and Sarah. 

Everything with them seems natural. It felt like family. 

You did not want to face tomorrow, especially when there was no set plans as to when you would be hanging out with them again. 

Luckily, Sarah has not mentioned much of anything about what she saw early Saturday morning, so there was no awkward tension. The only time it came up was when you all were tired from Saturday’s events and you arrived back to the hotel room.

“You two sleeping together tonight, too?” She asked, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. She wasn’t even trying to be rude or demeaning, she just wanted to know if she could fall asleep in one of the beds without being stirred. 

“Yeah, you can have that bed hun.” Joel answered. 

Sitting on those horribly uncomfortable bleachers and cheering Sarah on had taken a lot out of you, so you were ready to throw yourself into the plush mattress, too. 

You watched Sarah throw herself onto of the comforter, sinking into the pillows face first. It makes you giggle while you grab your pajamas to change. 

Joel nudges you while you dig through your duffle, “No funny business tonight, ma’am.” 

You shake your head, his comment making your stomach turn upside down with nerves. You smack his chest with the back of your hand, “No duh, asshole.”

Sarah puts her headphones on, drowning out Joel’s humming to an old country song. You just stare ahead, watching him speed pass car after car. His truck revs every time he does it which makes you clench your knees a bit tighter. 

“In a rush, dear?”

The nickname makes his heart race.

He taps his fingers, trying to act like that nickname doesn’t drive him insane. “Want to make sure to get you home so you can be rested up for work in the morning.”

“That’s mighty sweet of you, but take your time. I’m in no rush.”

He eases off the gas a bit, taking your advice. 

“You talk to your Mama lately? She still likin’ Maine?” 

It wasn’t a question you were expecting coming from Joel. You had told him about your mom around the time that she moved away, however long ago that was. You truly didn’t expect him to even remember.

“We talk every week, she likes it there. Wants me to come experience a winter there, so I may go up for Christmas,” You explain, remembering back to conversation you two just had last week. She wanted you to feel what fluffy snow felt like and maybe go skiing with her. 

It makes Joel’s heart sink a bit. Not because you would be visiting your mother, but instead you would not be here to spend Christmas with him and Sarah. He had already planned on making a spot for you at the dining table. 

“That’d be nice,” He licks his lips, contemplating if he should say what he really wants to say, “‘M bettin’ she misses seein’ your beautiful face everyday.”

You smile, your cheeks burning hot at Joel calling you beautiful. You knew you had to throw him off and give him a sarcastic response to keep him on his toes.

“Gonna freeze my ass off there. May have to borrow some of your flannels.”

He chuckles, tilting his head towards you, “You already havta’ have about four of my t-shirts, now that hoodie. You wanna raid me some more?”

“If I’m remembering correctly, you said I just had to “get with you” to get clothes,” You’re whispering, leaning into him. You don’t want Sarah to hear the words you’re speaking to her father, “How many times do we need to go at it before I get one of those denim jackets you own?”

He peers over at you. You smirk, quirking one eyebrow up.

“You with me to get my clothes or somethin’?”

“That and other things,” You tease, pulling away, leaning your back against the seat again. 

Joel peers into the rear view mirror. Sarah is asleep, her headphones blasting her favorite pop album. He tilts his head towards you, his eyes not leaving the road, “You’ll havta remind me of those other things when we get home.”

He could get used to always having you in his passenger seat. 

-

Sarah was dead asleep in the backseat, so you both decided to get all the stuff from the back inside before nudging her awake. You quietly shut the door, grabbing Joel’s one bag from the driveway and slinging it over your shoulder. 

You follow close behind him as he unlocks the front door and places Sarah’s stuff on the staircase. 

The idea of having to leave made you want to scream. You didn’t feel like driving home and laying lonely in your own bed. You didn’t want to resume your boring life at work. You just wanted him. 

This weekend made you realize that you really couldn’t live without him. You’re not only comfortable around him, but he’s exciting. He cracks jokes and compliments you when you don’t expect it. Those couple of months without him were still months he was plaguing your mind, even though he wasn’t physically around you. 

You snap out of your thoughts quickly. You start watching Joel’s muscles restrict over his gray t-shirt and it’s enough to send you to your knees. You didn’t even realize how crazy he was driving you. His messy curls that were trapped under a hat most of the weekend are finally loose and curling up his neck. And the way his jeans hugged his ass while he walked away from you? You didn’t know how long to could refrain from telling him you needed him, right this second. 

“I may call out tomorrow. Too tired to sit on my computer all day and run reports,” You say while he wonders back to you from his bedroom down the hall. You’re hoping it leads to an offer.  

He nods, tossing his keys on the entry table next to you,“Yeah, I am off tomorrow. Have to get this house in order and make sure Sarah actually wakes up for school in the morning.”

No offer. Maybe you could propose it?

“Maybe I could just spend the night.”

The air is thick instantly with tension. You can hear the hitch in his throat. Once you say it, you realize how desperate you must sound. But you want to be able to lay next to him again. You want and need him. 

“If that’s what you wanna do, sweetheart. I don’t mind none. Love havin’ you here.”

He grabs your waist lazily, pulling you into his chest. The connection sends chills down your arms. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to you to think I’m being needy.”

He doesn’t even hesitate, he just bows his head to capture your lips with his, giving you a slow sensual kiss. You move your hands up to his neck, pulling him down further into you, eager to be close to him. 

When he realizes that’s where it’s going, he pulls up for air. 

“Lemme go get the last couple bags and get Sarah inside.”

As he says that, the door flings open behind you. A sleepy Sarah blinks at both of you, shaking her head instantly when she sees her Dad’s arms wrapped around you. You push back, flinging yourself backwards and away from Joel. 

“Can you lovebirds do that somewhere else,” She groans, while rubbing her eyes, “Don’t need another sibling created right in front of m-”

“Sarah Jane!”

-

You smile when Joel drops onto his mattress with a huff. 

“So…” You drift off, crawling onto Joel’s lap, “You come here often?”

He chuckles, his hands beginning to trail your waist.

“Come here quite often, actually,” He jokes, his hands resting right under your shirt and on your hips. “How about you?”

You hum, “Not really. Maybe a couple times. Would love to come around, more though.”

“That so?”

You lean down, using your fingers to pull back his brown locks and pivot his head upward. You kiss him gingerly, smiling at his small groan.

You pull away, “I’d love to come to your bed every night, Joel Miller.”

The guttural moan he makes sends a rush to your core. He grabs the nape of your neck and brings you back down to his lips. He takes control of your movements, switching positions by gently laying you back. He leans over your body, his lips carrying the weight of his emotion. You’re scrambling though, tugging at his shirt, trying to rid it off his body. He pulls away to throw it off his body, motioning you to do the same. Soon, you two are completely naked.

“I never get sick of this view,” He rasps, his eyes raking your body. 

You smirk, “Back atcha, babe.”

He positions himself on top of you, his lips lingering on your neck and collarbones. 

Joel’s kisses are always intentional. It’s like he knows every pressure point on your body. His lips are always wet and supple, dragging across your soft skin. 

When his mouth reaches the skin around your breast, you start to arch up for more contact. He grabs your stomach, pushing it softly down onto the bed. 

“Patience, baby,” He mumbles, kissing the same area on the other breast. You jerk up again, absentmindedly.

“Can’t help it,” You whine, trying not to sound so desperate. 

He clicks his tongue, “You can and you will.”

His lips wrap around your nipple and you just watch with hooded lids. His eyes are closed, so focus on teasing every inch of your body. You can feel the slick pool between your legs at the sight. 

“Joel, please.”

He releases the pink nub, “What, baby? Use those words.”

“I want you all over, Joel.”

“Yeah? Where? Here?” 

He grabs your breast roughly, making you mewl. 

You finally gesture down. Your hand slides between your legs, dragging up and down your own slit. You gather as much slick as you can, bringing it up to Joel’s surprised expression. 

“I see…” He brings your fingers up to his lips. You gape at his next actions, amazed that he’s so filthy. He takes your two fingers and licks them like a popsicle. You audible sigh as he sucks on your fingers like a man starved. 

“You goin’ to be extra good for me?” He asks when your digits escape his mouth. 

“Always am.”

Your voice is shaky when you say it. It makes Joel smirk. He loves when you sound ruined.

“Love hearing those words come out of your pretty little mouth.”

He crawls down your body, peppering kisses from your stomach down to your thighs. You watch him closely as he props your thighs over his shoulders. He does not waste time, diving straight into your divine center. You try to refrain from screaming his name, knowing Sarah may not be asleep yet. You clap your hand over your mouth while he licks your sensitive clit. He lays his tongue flat, pressing into you as he shakes his head back and forth. When he does that, you yelp into your palm. 

“Mmm, baby girl wants to be loud so bad,” He chuckles darkly, using his fingers to spread your lips, “You wanna be loud for me huh?”

“Yes, please, God,” You pant, “Need you in me, Joel.”

“Yeah? Lets stretch you out a bit,” He doesn’t even give any warning when he sinks his fingers inside your pussy. “Gotta make sure you’re nice and ready, baby girl. Want you to cum before I stick this cock in ya.”

You swallow, letting him take the lead like usual. You liked it this way, when he ravishes you with his abilities and you get to cum several times. You never had sex like this in your life, especially consistently. 

His fingers curl inside you, pumping in and out. You can hear how wet you are, the wetness sequelching against Joel’s fingers. Your pussy is graced with his tongue again while he fucks you with his digits. It’s like it’s pulled out of you. The orgasm sends white hot flashes to your vision. You know you’re saying something, but it’s no word in the English language. 

When you come back down from euphoria, Joel’s ontop of you again. He’s kissing your cheeks, mumbling something about how beautiful you are when you cum. 

“Joel, please,” Your hands grab onto his biceps, “Want you inside me.”

His cock drags along your navel, as he situates himself between your legs. 

“Yeah? Always so eager,” He grabs his cock with his free hand, “Wanna try something a little different?”

Your stomach drops, “Like what?”

He toys with your nipple with his pointer and thumb, “Always wanted to fuck these.”

You smirk at the thought, your stomach finally at ease.

“You want to fuck my titties, Joel?”

“If you’ll let me,” He squeezes your boob gently, “Think these things are perfect. Want my cock right between them.”

You nod, “Fuck ‘em then, baby.”

He pulls you up, practically shoving you on the ground beside his bed. He wasn’t being aggressive, just guiding you to follow his lead. You sit on your knees, watching up at him as he pumps his cock over you. You use both hands to push your tits together. He grins as he touches the head of his cock to your hard nipples. 

“So good for me,” He groans, slipping his cock between your cleavage, “Obeyin’ me and doin’ everythin’ I want. My fuckin’ dream girl.”

He starts to fuck your squeezed together tits as you stare up at him with a completely spent expression. You dribble some spit down between the break in your breast to lube up the area. Your pupils are blown and you feel the wetness of you slit soaking the skin of your legs. You can tell by the look on Joel’s face that he could cum at the sight of you. 

But he stops and instead, grabs your bicep and tosses you back on the bed. You watch him crawl up between your legs, his face untamed and filled with anticipation. 

“Need to cum in that pussy,” He pumps it a couple times before slipping in between your pussy lips, “Do you need me to put on a condom or anything? I don’t have to fuck you raw every time.”

You bite your lip, “I like feeling every part of you, Joel. I promise.”

“Mmm,” He hums, sinking his cock head inside you, “Love to hear that, baby.”

You circle your hips, practically fiening for him to sink all the way into you. He takes the hint, plunging into you with one snap. Once he’s finally sheathed in you, you groan out which only instigates him. He draws out and back in, his pace painstakingly slow. You grip onto his forearms, digging your nails into them. Maybe he will take the hint that you need it faster. 

But, no.

“Words, darlin’. Tell me what you need.”

You choke out the words, “Faster. Harder.”

He kisses your lips, shushing you as his tempo picks up. He wants to feel the vibrations of your moans. He knows if you’re too loud there may be listening ears, so kissing you will hush the sounds of pleasure. He sits up and repositions, grabbing the back of both of your legs, practically folding you in half. You smirk in delight, watching his furrowed expression focus on your body’s reactions. 

“This pussy is mine,” He huffs, watching himself plow into you, “All fuckin’ mine. Ya know that?”

“Yes,” You manage to peep out, “It’s yours, Joel.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” He spreads your legs, opening you up nice and wide. His thumb finds your responsive clit, circling it with the momentum of his hips, “Cum for me, baby. Soak this fuckin’ cock.”

Your body reacts in the way he finds so satisfying. Your hips lift up as the climax takes over, your whole body shaking at the ecstasy he brings you. He doesn’t let up, chasing his own bliss. You are so overstimulated, you are just gasping for air. He starts to falter, his pace slowing as he coats your insides with his cum. 

You start to chuckle when his body practically collapses onto you. His sweaty curls stick to your perspiring cheek. You find yourself kissing his temple, practically thanking him for fucking you so good every time.

He stands up, his half-hard dick slipping out of you pain-stakingly slow. You whimper at the feeling, still a mess from your orgasm. 

“God, you are perfect,” He mumbles, his hand slipping down your bare thigh, “Could fuck you every day for the rest of my life.”

You are still awestruck by the interaction, you don’t even know you’re saying it, “Why don’t you?”

He smiles while he helps you sit up, “I will. Now let’s get you all showered and ready for bed, huh?”

“Yes, please.”

-

Luckily for you, your body naturally wakes up at 5:30AM. You creep out of the bedroom, making sure not to stir Joel awake. You find the house phone and call your boss, letting her know you were “sick” and needed to use a sick day. She just mumbled a “whatever” and you hung up, heading back to the warmth of Joel’s bed. 

Joel wakes up as soon as you crawl back into bed, but he knew he had to get up and make sure Sarah got ready and off to school, anway. He cuddles you for a bit, watching you nod back off to sleep. He let you sleep in while he cleaned up the house a bit. He tries his best not to much too much noise, not wanting to rattle you awake. 

You did wake back up when you heard the vacuum. You pull yourself together, putting your hair up into a bun as you stumble out of the bedroom. Joel stands in the living room, not even aware you’re behind him. He jumps when he notices you in the threshold, turning off the vacuum. 

“Mornin’ sleepin’ beauty,” He laughs as he wraps up the vacuum cord. 

“Mornin’ handsome.”

You watch him roll the machine back into the hall closet before taking note to how nice and clean the house looked. 

“Looks good in here,” You mumble, noting how every surface looks dusted, “It’s missing one thing. You have a vase?”

He silently nods, looking at you confused.

“Go fill it with water, I’ll be back.”

You walk towards the front door, swinging it open as you begin tip toeing to Joel’s side garden. He had started it with Sarah years ago, and for the most part, it was completely overgrown. Some flowers still bloom in the Texas sun, so you pick the prettiest from the dirt. Once you have a bundle, you practically jog inside to show Joel your bouquet. 

“Hmm,” He smirks, “Didn’t think we needed flowers.”

“Well, you do.”

He shows you the vase on the coffee table, letting you take on the responsibility to make it pretty. He watches you carefully, your tired eyes trained on the task. 

You were his dream girl, truly.

Once you’re satisfied with your arrangement, you make a grand gesture. 

“Beautiful, baby,” He beams, wrapping his arms around your waist. He drops down onto the couch, pulling you into his lap. 

“Who me or the flowers?” You joke.

“Both.”

You give him a lazy kiss, smirking into it. 

This part of life with Joel is so domestic and perfect. You two could create this little world and live in it forever. He appreciated your silly antics, knowing how neglected this side of you must have been with Tommy. He didn’t care about the small gestures like Joel did. 

It was so reassuring being with Joel. He praised you like you had never been before. 

As you pull away from his lips, you hear a door slam outside. Before you could even react, the front door swings open into the house. You sit on Joel’s lap, turned away from the front door, completely dumbfounded.

“What is going on here?”

His voice scares you. You don’t even want to turn around in Joel’s lap to face him. Joel slowly helps you out of his lap, his eyes never leaving Tommy’s. 

When you finally turn to face Tommy, his eyes are wild and bright red. He looks like he hasn’t showered in days, his longer hair greasy and standing in all sorts of directions. It’s not his appearance that scares you, it’s the energy he’s brought into Joel’s living room. It’s the same scary tension you experienced when he lashed out on you before. 

Joel finally speaks up, clearing his throat. “What do you mean?”

But Tommy isn’t talking to Joel. He’s looking at you. 

“Are you fuckin’ my brother?”

He’s pointing at you, his finger waving at you like an adult who’s scolding a child. You open your mouth, but you can’t say anything. Your throat is dry, the shock and terror taking ahold of your vocal chords. 

“Tommy, we aren’t doing this.”

Joel puts himself in between Tommy and you, ensuring he doesn’t creep closer to you. You want to believe Tommy would never get physical with you, but the way he looks now, you’re not one hundred percent positive. 

“That’s not what I fuckin’ asking, Joel. Are you two sleepin’ together?” 

His voice is booming, bouncing off every corner of the room. It makes you shrink three sizes. 

Joel places his head up, warning him silently not to get any closer, “Tommy-”

“Answer the fuckin’ question!”

You want to curl into a ball. You knew this would fucking happen. You knew he’d go insane. 

You look at Joel finally. You realize your eyes were trained on Tommy in terror, unsure on how to console him. Joel licks his lips, rolling his eyes a bit. You just nod, trying to answer Tommy’s question without saying anything. You didn’t want him to realize how shaky your voice was. 

Once he gets confirmation, all hell breaks loose. He’s pushing on Joel with his chest, screaming expletives at him. You stand in the corner of the living room, your body practically wedged between a lamp and the couch. You want to become one of the dustbunnies on the floor boards, not wanting to be apart of this situation.

“You’re a fuckin’ asshole! You fucked my girl-“

Before he can even finish the statement, Joel becomes a brick wall. He’s staring down at Tommy now, all the while snot is running down at his little brother’s face. He looked pathetic. As he nudges Joel’s chest, he hardly moves a milimeter. Joel doesn’t even hesitate when he says the next words. 

“Not your girl.”

You truly cannot believe the words coming out of Joel’s mouth. You knew what he was insinuating and it brought chills up your back. Tommy’s movements completely halt and he stands there in a stunned silence. Joel’s jaw is slack, his eyes trained down at Tommy. It’s a stand-off. 

Tommy crooks his head to the side, like he’s stretching it. “You want to pull that shit now, Joel? I knew you wanted my sloppy seconds the moment you told me she was at your house that night.”

Being referred as “sloppy seconds” makes your blood boil. It’s so dehumanizing. 

“Stop talking about her like that,” Joel warns, his voice a whole octave lower. 

“No,” Tommy growls, his gaze finally falling on you again, “You’re a whore. Just like your stupid sister.”

You swallow hard. It’s finally your moment to shine. The burst of adrenaline chorusing through your veins finally propels you forward, pushing Joel out of your way. 

“You’re the town whore, Tommy Miller. You fucked your way around Austin and then came home to me every night,” You are shaking. Luckily, your voice isn’t wavering, “You lie. You cheat. You are a decietiful little shit. And I’m so glad you are because if you hadn’t slept with my sister and told me, I would have never realized how terrible you were to me all these years. I wasted so much time on babying you.”

The vein in his forehead is bulging and it makes you smile a bit. 

“If I could go back in time, I would’ve saved my fucking tears and ran the other direction.”

He has the audacity to giggle, “Instead you ran right into Joel’s arms.”

You don’t hesitate, “You never gave a damn about me, he actually did. I should’ve taken the hint the moment he brought me flowers for my graduation, and you showed up with a flask.”

“You graduated college! Big fuckin’ deal! Get over yourself!”

Now you’re laughing. 

“Bite me, Tommy,” You reach out and grab his t-shirt, pulling him into you. It makes Joel super nervous how close he is to you. He knows Tommy’s temper and how easily he will snap. He doesn’t know the next words about to come out of your mouth. 

“You cheated on me, you fucking loser. I told you then we were done that night, did I not? What I did after that point is not your business. I’m not yours anymore. And your brother, he treats me real good. Way better than you ever did. He can actually last, unlike you,” You smack your lips together, “He can fuck me better than you, that’s for sure.”

Joel’s eyes widen at the words. Tommy looks completely dazed, but as soon as the last line leaves your mouth, he pushes you backward, right into Joel. You squeak at the contact, your brain registering that he actually put his hands on you. Joel quickly grabs you from tripping over him, and places you behind him quickly. Tommy reaches out for you, but Joel stops him meer inches from your face. 

“Fuck you!”

Tommy tries to throw his hand at Joel’s head next but it’s quickly stopped by Joel’s forearm. Instead of Tommy continuing the fight with you two, he takes it out on the new flowers and vase you just put out on Joel’s coffee table. He uses all his force, grabbing the vase and launching it towards the wall. The glasses shatters, water splashes on the wall, and pieces of flowers litter the floor. 

The action sends Joel pushing Tommy backward and against the wall. You want to yell out for them to stop, but all that comes out his Joel’s name. 

When he pins Tommy to the wall, he finally turns to you. 

“Don’t.”

It’s the only word you can say. You’re shaking, your eyes welling with tears. Joel knows you don’t want to see him demolish Tommy with his fists, so he thinks quick. He grabs Tommy’s collar, dragging him out the front door. 

You follow far behind, not sure what Joel’s gameplan is. 

Tommy is yelling, telling Joel to unhand him. Joel just tightens his grip. 

“Coming into my house, talking to my girl like that. Fuckin’ disrespectful little shit.”

“Fuck you, Joel,” Tommy yells, his voice probably waking the neighbors. Joel launches Tommy’s body into the front yard, right near the flower bed. You watch from the doorway, wanting to keep your distance from the confrontation. 

“Remember when you had temper tantrums when Momma told you no as a boy? Nothings changed. You’re an immature little brat.”

Joel reaches down into the flower bed, grabbing the hose. Tommy is still on the ground, scrambling to get up. Joel does something so unexpected, it makes you yelp. He starts soaking Tommy with the hose. 

“Yeah, like the girl said before,” He aims towards Tommy’s face, “bite me.”

Tommy starts to spit up water, jumping up and away from the stream of water. Instead of tackling Joel like you anticipate, he just shakingly wipes his hair out of his eyes. 

“You two are sick. Fuckin’ sick. And everyone will know about this.”

It makes your heart sink to your stomach. You don’t really care if anyone knows anymore. You knew this was going to be the worst part, but its the way he makes it sound like a threat. 

“I bet they will, I just don’t give a damn.”

Joel sprays him while he stands up, making Tommy groan and yell out in annoyance. Joel just smiles, sickly. 

Tommy storms off to his truck, dripping wet from the shower Joel just gave him on his front lawn. Joel tosses the hose back into the garden, satisfied with his work. You two stand there, watching Tommy do a burn out and speed off down the road. You breathe out loud, your hands finding your face. Joel glances between his neighbour’s houses, ensuring there is no one outside watching the events unfold. He did not care if they did watch, but he knew you would probably care. 

He grabs ahold of your shoulders, guiding you back inside the house. Your eyes instantly fall on all the shattered glass and flowers as you walk inside. Joel ignores it and brings you into the kitchen. 

Your mind is racing. You knew every word you said to Tommy was right deep down. But the girl you were, she wouldn’t have instigated his rage. She would’ve sat there and took every word he said to heart and believed them. 

But the girl you are now, that girl is completely ruthless. You are petty. You are harsh. You are angry. 

You kind of scared yourself. 

“Joel-”

“No baby,” he mutters, “You better not say what I think you’re gonna say.”

“Joel, we can’t d-”

“We can. Because fuck Tommy. Fuck everyone,” He grabs your hips, letting his hands settle softly on your curves, “I want you. I want you so bad. I am not lettin’ you get away. Tommy can tell everyone in the fuckin’ world about us, and I won’t fuckin’ care. What he says doesn’t reflect you. You did nothin’ wrong. Okay?”

You swallow. You know he’s right, but you’re so scared of all this fallout. You don’t want it to scare you away from Joel, but it’s nervewracking to wait around and anticipate all of the chaos that will follow this incident. You did not want to tear apart a family. It’s the same feeling you had the morning after you first slept with Joel.

You’re scared to have him because of what it means for him. It means weird holidays and weird stares at grocery stores. It means you will be known as his brother’s ex girlfriend never just his girl. 

You don’t realize it, but you’re staring past Joel. He tilts your head towards him, making your eyes connect. 

“I love you, okay?”

His words make your heart flutter with relief. Maybe that’s what you needed. You needed him to finally say those words. Because those words were hanging in the back of your mind, simmering, waiting to be said.

“I love you, too, Joel.”

[xzerosparrowx]

An Attempt to Steal the Crown Jewels

For the August @astrangersummer.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Prompt: Modern/Royal AU| wc: 717 | Rating: G | tags: Rogue/Thief Eddie, King Steve, an attempt to steal the crown jewels, based on a real historical event.

Steve awoke with a start, sweat soaked sheets tangled between his legs, his heaving chest calming as the nightmare gave way to wakefulness. The room was still dark, the blue hour just before the first cold rays of morning could peek over the horizon.

He shivers as he lays back down, bringing the heavy blankets over his chest. The fireplace, burning low into coals, could barely keep the chill of early winter out of the large chamber.

Snap!

He bolts up, eyes fixed upon the window closest to him, unsure if he is awake or still dreaming, hands twitching towards the rapier at his bedside. Then he hears it, the creak and rustle of something moving up the trellis just outside his window.

“Shit!” Hisses a voice, and Steve leaps out of bed, grabbing the rapier, positioning himself against the wall next to the window.

Steve presses himself further against the wall as a mop of hair finally comes into view. He watches curiously as a man pulls himself up, laying out a leather purse against the windowsill, a gloved hand pulling out a long needle-like tool.

It eludes Steve as to why he only thinks to watch the man, not once does it come upon him to actually step in front of the window to make his presence known to the intruder. He watches the man in fascination take the tool and with smooth, practiced hands silently unlock the latch to the window. With feline grace the man steps through, long lean legs wrapped in dark leather stretching over the windowsill, heeled boots silently landing on the dark wood floors.

It is only then, when the man is standing in his bedchamber, that Steve even considers saying something.

“If you're looking for the bathroom, you've climbed the wrong window.” The man springs back with a yelp, crashing into a desk, bottles of ink and glass clattering to the floor.

“My lord?” a voice tentatively calls out from behind the large french door. The man in black, sprawled on the floor amongst the mess, stares up Steve with large brown eyes, pleading.

“Everything is fine! I failed to see where I was going, again,” Steve replies back, stepping towards the man and pointing his rapier at the base of the stranger's neck.

The pair watch each other silently as they listen for the footsteps outside to disappear.

“What do you have to say for yourself, assassin?”

“I am no assassin, my lord!” the man avows in a rush, holding his hands up in deference. “I confess I did not have good intentions for my visit, but it was never violent in nature.”

“Visiting someone usually means you go through the front door, invited,” Steve scoffs, lowering his sword a fraction.

“Wrong choice of words, my lord,” the man says, scrambling to kneel, “I came to steal the crown jewels-” Steve raises the rapier again, “-but I assure you I have a legitimate reason and a very good story to tell.”

Steve considers it for a moment, staring at the leather-clad man before him. “Very well, I'm in need of a good story, and I would like to know how you managed to climb over the wall and pass the palace guards… Your name?” Steve smiles, taking a seat on a chair by the fireplace and pointing to the second seat opposite.

“Eddie Munson, my lord,” the man leaps up, taking a seat, “well, it all started with the dread pirate Vecna…”

The man is a bundle of excitement and nerves, launching into a story about beautifully tragic maidens, a host of silly yet brilliant children and a pirate with dark, supernatural powers. It is all fantastical, far too fascinating to hold any truth, but Steve finds himself enthralled nonetheless, captivated by the way Eddie weaves the tapestry of his story.

“Brilliant tale,” Steve chuckles when Eddie finishes, “though it does not explain why you've come to steal the crown jewels.”

“Ah, yes, well turns out you don't make any money on adventures like that.”

Steve barks with laughter, loud and happy, his sides and cheeks hurting by the time he manages to calm down.

“I'll do you one better than the crown jewels,” Steve stands, holding out his hand to Eddie, “how about a land and title?”

A/N: This story is inspired by Thomas Blood, a guy who tried to steal the crown jewels, stood before King Charles, and was given land instead. Horrible Histories did a really great skit based on it, I recommend watching it on YouTube.

[welcometomytrashcan]

Before the Dawn: Chapter III // Logan Howlett

Logan Howlett x f!mutant!reader Chapter 3/4 Read Chapter 2 here Word Count: 1369

Background: You are a mutant with hydrokinetic abilities (think Percy Jackson meets the mermaids from H2O), and arrived at the X-Mansion 4 months before Logan. You started dating Logan after the events of X-Men but before he left for Alkali Lake. You are both in love with each other but have yet to confess it. Takes place within the events of X2, Canon violence, pre-established relationship

With adrenaline pumping through your veins, you and Logan sprinted through the collapsing base. The roar of the dam’s crumbling structure echoed through the metal corridors, water already starting to flood certain sections. But that wasn’t your focus. Right now, you had to find Stryker and stop him—once and for all.

As you stepped outside, you spotted Stryker near a helicopter, preparing for takeoff. Logan moved fast, grabbing Stryker by the throat and slamming him against the helicopter, driving his claws into his sides.

Stryker screamed in agony.

"How does it feel, bub?" Logan growled.

Stryker gasped, "Why did you come back?"

"You cut me open. Took my life. You tried to take Y/N's too," Logan snarled.

Stryker managed a twisted smile. "You make it sound like I stole something. You volunteered for the procedure. As for Y/N... I wasn’t going to pass up that opportunity."

Logan's claws dug in deeper, and Stryker winced.

"Who am I?" Logan demanded.

Stryker smirked. "You're a failed experiment. If you knew your past—the kind of person you were, the work we did—you’d know people don’t change. You were an animal then, Wolverine. You still are."

Stryker glanced at you with a cold grin. "He’s still an animal now."

He turned back to Logan. "I just gave you claws."

Suddenly, an alarm blared from the distance. The ground trembled as the sound of metal screeching and concrete cracking filled the air.

"What the hell is that?" you asked, alarmed.

Logan pressed his claws deeper into Stryker, demanding, "What is it?!"

"The dam’s ruptured," Stryker said through clenched teeth. "It’s going to flood the spillway. It’s too late. In a few minutes, we’ll all be underwater."

You and Logan exchanged a tense look. Stryker glanced between you both, sneering. "You can’t save your friends. They’re as good as dead."

He turned back to Logan. "You’re a survivor. Always have been."

Logan’s face hardened. "I thought I was just an animal—with claws. If we die, you die."

Without hesitation, Logan ripped his claws out of Stryker and shoved him against the helicopter’s wheel, securing him with a chain. You stepped forward, melting the snow beneath him and freezing it again, pinning him to the ground.

"We have to find the others," you said urgently, pulling Logan’s attention back to the base. The rumble of the dam breaking grew louder.

As you started to walk away, Stryker shouted after you both. "There are no answers that way!"

Ignoring him, the two of you raced back toward the base. Jean, Scott, Storm, the students—they all needed to get out before the dam collapsed completely.

The base was shaking violently by the time you reached the others. They were about to head down a pathway that would’ve led them to certain death. Logan thrust his claws into a control panel, slamming a door shut.

"You don’t want to go that way," you called out. "Follow us!"

You helped guide the group back outside, everyone moving as quickly as they could through the snow. But when you reached the spot where the helicopter had been, it was gone.

"Damn it," Logan muttered, scanning the horizon. Panic started to creep in, but then, through the clouds, you saw it—the jet. Rogue was at the controls, with Bobby helping her.

The jet descended, wobbling dangerously as Rogue struggled to keep it steady.

"She’s not going to make it," you said, fear creeping into your voice.

Rogue managed to land the jet roughly onto the ground.

"Go help them onto the jet!" Logan ordered, his tone sharp but firm. "I’ll catch up."

"What about you? What are you—"

"I need to take care of something," he interrupted. "Go."

Reluctantly, you nodded and ran toward the others, helping them board the unstable jet. Despite the chaos, you kept it together, focused on getting everyone to safety.

Once everyone was aboard, you glanced back and saw Logan confronting Stryker again. Stryker was chained up, thanks to Magneto, and Logan stood below him.

"Who has the answers, Wolverine?" Stryker taunted. "Those people? That creature you’re with?"

Logan didn’t reply. He glared up at the man who had ruined his life, the man who had turned the woman he loved into his own weapon. “I’ll take my chances,” Logan spat, tearing off his dog tags and dropping them at Stryker’s feet before turning his back on him.

As Logan walked away, Stryker shouted after him. "One day, someone will finish what I started, Wolverine! One day!"

Logan jogged back to the jet, leaping inside just as the ground shook violently beneath you. The dam was about to burst.

"Are you okay?" you asked as he rejoined you, your hand brushing down his arm in comfort.

Logan gave a small nod. "I am now."

He planted a firm kiss on your forehead.

"Come on, get us out of here!" he called, strapping himself in.

Storm and Scott scrambled to start the jet, but the engines sputtered and failed. The cabin filled with tension as everyone realized that the water was coming fast.

“Why isn’t it working?” you yelled, fear rising in your throat as the water rushed toward the jet.

And then, in the chaos, Charles’ voice softly called out. “Jean?”

You looked around, suddenly realizing Jean was missing. Panic gripped you, and you shot a glance toward Scott, who was frantically looking around as well.

“She’s gone,” Scott muttered, his voice strained. “Jean… where is she?”

You bolted to the back of the jet, searching for any sign of her. Your heart pounded in your chest as you screamed, “Jean! No! You can’t do this!”

But as you reached the door, it slid shut in your face. Through the window, you saw her standing outside, her eyes glowing with power, her face set in grim determination.

“No!” Scott yelled, banging his fists against the glass. “Jean! Don’t do this!”

You felt a pang of guilt slice through your chest. You could’ve helped. You could’ve used your powers to manipulate the water, to do something. But your leg was still weak from the earlier fight, and you weren’t strong enough to control the water currents. You hadn’t been at the school long enough to master your abilities. I could’ve helped her…

Outside, Jean’s powers surged, and she lifted the jet with her telekinesis, guiding it into the air. The water from the dam swirled around her, bending to her will. She was holding back an entire flood.

You pressed your hands against the glass, tears streaming down your face as you tried to reach out with your powers. “Jean!” you called, but your voice was lost in the roar of the flood.

Scott’s voice broke, trembling with anguish. “Jean… please.”

But it was too late. With a final, heartbreaking glance at Scott, Jean guided the water around the jet, holding it at bay just long enough to save you all. The jet soared into the air, leaving Jean behind.

You searched desperately for her in the water, your hydrokinesis pushing you to the limit. But with the blood loss from your leg and the overwhelming force of the current, you couldn’t sense her. You weren’t strong enough.

As the jet ascended higher, the reality of what had just happened sank in. Jean was gone. And it was your fault. You should’ve been able to do something. You could’ve saved her.

The silence in the jet was deafening. Scott collapsed into his seat, his face pale and stricken with grief. You sat down, staring blankly at the floor, guilt clawing at your insides.

“I could’ve helped her,” you whispered, more to yourself than anyone else. Tears streamed down your face, and the weight of Jean’s sacrifice pressed heavily on your chest.

Logan placed a hand on your shoulder, his voice low. “It wasn’t your fault.”

But you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was. You’d failed her. You’d failed Logan. And now Jean was gone because of it.

The jet flew through the sky, but the atmosphere inside was heavy with grief and guilt. The battle wasn’t over, but as you sat there, surrounded by your team, you couldn’t help but feel that you’d already lost.

Tag List: @spacemacandcheese @oscarissac2099 

[conchcronch]

I Could Never Forget You

Sanji x You

He was there, he saw you. Reality begins to sink in and you panic, hoping you can talk to Sanji and maybe, if you're lucky enough he could find it in himself to forgive you. This was not how you expected the conversation to go, but you certainly don't mind the new direction the evening has gone. A/N: While you don't have to have read the first part in this series, it would likely give you a bit more idea as to what's going on. But let's be real, who reads smut for the plot. Here is the first part in the series if you're interested!

Tag List: @onepiecemasterlistblog

NSFW Below Cut

When Sanji returned to the crew after everything in Whole Cake, he was different. You chalked that up to processing the events; the broken off engagement, seeing his siblings and father again, and just trying to return to normal day to day life. The two of you hadn’t really spoken since his return, you stayed by Zoro’s side the vast majority of the time, and remained quiet when he wasn’t around. 

You were worried about him, but at the same time you didn’t want to be the one who approached him first. You were polite, always saying thank you and receiving a curt nod in response. It wasn’t until you were recovering after a training session with Zoro that you realized why he was treating you this way. 

“He saw us, y’know.” He was leaning against the railing of the deck, drinking a bottle of water as the sun was just beginning to dip. You had gotten into the habit of training on the deck after dinner when everyone else was doing their own thing inside, the lack of people around meant you got quiet moments like this where you could just enjoy being together without having to think about what conclusions the crew might jump to. 

“What do you mean?” Your voice wavered, you half didn’t believe him, half internally begged for him to be joking. 

“You know what I mean.” It had happened again, several times. But that was all it was, just a friends with benefits type situation. 

“No he didn’t.” You said mainly to ease your mind but he took it as though he needed to defend it. You felt like you were going to be sick, bile beginning to burn your esophagus as you leaned your head over the railing, trying to take deep breaths of the salty sea air in hopes it would help it pass. 

“You give a shit?” He stepped closer to you, a hand pulling the hair that was dangling around your face back so if you did throw up it wouldn’t get in the way. 

“Yeah I give a shit!” You said, your head dangling loosely. 

“Why?” You looked up at him as best as you could in your current position, despite his close proximity, his attention was directed towards the sun slowly sinking below the horizon.

“Because I liked him, Zoro. And even though he hurt me, I don’t want to hurt him back. That’s not who I am.” 

“Do you still like him?” You sighed, not wanting to think about the fact your feelings were still lingering. You were happy in this situation-ship with Zoro, loved the attention he would give you and the way everything felt so effortless with him. But you were struggling to ignore the sour tugs at your heart whenever he would drop his gaze to avoid meeting yours. The way his hand would dart away at the very brush of your fingers against his, every interaction you had with him made you want to pull him close. But you weren’t ready to have that conversation with Zoro.

“It doesn’t matter, what matters is I didn’t want him to find out that way.” You and Sanji had never discussed what you were, which until this moment you had used to justify your actions since that night. But you knew it was unlikely that Sanji would see it as anything other than what it was. And despite the ‘you were engaged’ argument you couldn’t refute the claims even if you tried.

”Find out what, that we fucked?” His nonchalant tone made your stomach lurch, but not in a way that forced your dinner to make a reappearance. The railing of the ship was digging into your soft stomach, surely leaving a bruise if you stayed hunched over it much longer. 

“N-no…” You pull yourself up, Zoro’s hand retracting from the hold it had on your hair. “I mean y-yeah I guess that’s part of it.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, opting to stare out at the water lapping at the sides of the boat, forcing a clawed hand through your bangs. “I just wish I could have told him in my own time.” 

“Why do you care, he was the one that got engaged.” 

“There’s two sides to every story.”

”You didn’t much care for that ‘two sides’ shit when I had you bent over the bench press last night.” 

“Well maybe I’m beginning to regret some of my past actions.” He hummed in acknowledgement, a silence stretching on between the two of you until the anxiety blossoming inside of you became too much. Without another word you grabbed your bottle of water and headed towards the door inside, your gate that of someone mid anxiety attack, completely unaware of the man on the other side of the door.  Just as you grab the knob to head in, the door is pushed outward by someone on the other side, catching you completely off guard. Before you knew it, you were staring into the sea blue eyes of the last person you wanted to see at that moment. 

“S-Shit sorry I-“ He looked just as surprised as you, the cigarette clenched tightly in between his teeth. He stepped around you, holding the door open so you could pass though, never uttering a word to you. You stomped through the halls, weaving your way around crew members, none of which dared to speak to you, clearly seeing you were in no mood. You open the door to your bedroom, sitting on your bed with arms crossed. Your brain going a mile a second, replaying all the times you begged for Zoro, begged him to make you feel good, all the times you went out in search of him despite the fact Sanji was around, despite the fact you knew he had seen you looking for the swordsman he hated so much. 

“I need to find him.” You said to an empty room, determined to go find Sanji and put all of this to bed. To explain your side of things and hope that he can find it in his massive heart to forgive you. You left your room in the same panicked way you had entered it, navigating the halls expertly while you tried in vain to map out your discussion points as though it were an essay. 

Before you knew it, you were standing in an empty galley. “S-Sanj-“ Your stammer fell on an empty room. Here you were, prepared to throw yourself at the whim of a man you had pined after for years only to see an empty room. You stood there dumbly, hoping that if you were here long enough, he would show up. Rarely did he go anywhere besides the men’s room and here, his showering schedule remained consistently as part of his morning routine.

The wind blown from his sails, your energy chewed through by your anxiety, you felt there was nothing left to do other then return to your bedroom and mentally agonize over things. The short walk back to your bedroom felt long and your body heavy, turning the door knob felt the equivalent of pushing a boulder up a mountain. 

The lights remained off, you didn’t want to catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You wanted to shower, to clean the anxiety and emotional muck off your skin knowing you were unable to get rid of it mentally. You pull open a drawer, searching for your favourite oversized shirt to put on after your shower, hoping the little bit of comfort it would bring would help you get through the rest of the night. But then you froze, something feeling off.

Your room, it didn’t smell the same. It wasn’t an unfamiliar smell, in fact quite the opposite, it was a smell you had grown accustomed to before it was quickly forgotten about and replaced with a much more earthy aroma. This smelled of expensive cologne and tobacco smoke. Then you become hyper aware of the feeling of eyes on your back, the sound of someone’s even breathing. 

How had you missed him? He was sitting perfectly still on your bed, his gaze downcast and the familiar glow of a lit cigarette peeking out from his bangs that hid his face. “S-Sanji?” He barely reacted, his hand came up to grasp the cigarette, pulling it from his lips to allow a puff of smoke to be forced from his lungs. 

“Why?” His voice was quiet, and if you hadn’t been waiting for this question you would have almost missed it. “Why of all people, why him?” 

“S-Sanji, I have so much to explain.”

“Why him?” His tone was more demanding this time, venom in his voice. “There has to be a reason.” 

“He was there for me.” Your voice was unsteady, your statement ending as though it were a question.

”When I wasn’t.” 

“You left me” His head moved just enough that you could see his eyes through his bangs. You had said it before, he had left you, you had felt abandoned that day.

“I didn’t want to!” 

“How was I supposed to know that in the moment?” 

“I came back.” It was your turn to deflate. “I saw you.”

“I-I…I didn’t know about that until today…” 

“Do you know how hard it was for me to slip out long enough to get back here?” He pushed himself to his feet and cleared the distance between the bed and where you stood, looming over you. “And I come back to see you like that.”  

“I-I know…It wasn’t my intention.” He sucked on his cigarette hard, holding it in his lungs before blowing it out directly into your face. 

“I wasn’t even gone for three days.” 

“I know” You didn’t know what to say, even though you had just spent your entire walk carefully mapping all the points out, now that he stood in front of you you were completely amiss. 

“What did he do that I didn’t? 

“It’s not like that…I mean it was in the moment, I was hurt Sanji, I thought you had chosen to leave me.”

“Sexually, what did he do that I didn’t do?” His tone was impossible to read, it was masked better than his face which was mostly hidden by the shadows of the dimly lit room and his bangs, making him difficult to read.

“What?” Confusion and slight shock evident in your voice.

“You’ve never looked or sounded like that with me.” 

“S-sanji it’s not a-about sex, not fully I mean…That’s not how it started at least.”

“But it’s partially about sex.” You could see his jaw tighten, biting down on the cigarette that had found its way back between his teeth. “So tell me.” It wasn’t a question, it was a demand. There was a drawn out silence between you both, your lips sucked into a tight line before you finally sighed.

“Sometimes I want to be handled…differently than how you do it.” He sighed heavily from his nose, smoke enveloping you. 

“I don’t understand.” His voice was quiet, slightly cracked like a glass that had been dropped one too many times, but was too strong to fully shatter.

“You’re so gentle, which is nice. But sometimes I want there to be some urgency, some spontaneity.” You sighed, bringing your hands to your face to rub at your eyes. “It just started to feel too much like a routine.” You could feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, you hated how this conversation was going, it felt like you kept digging a deeper hole for yourself, while simultaneously hurting someone you do really care for. “Fuck Sanji, I’m so sorry. In the moment it felt like it was justified. Like I was entitled to feel like this, but then I f-found out you saw and I-I just didn’t want you to th-hink I stopped caring about you.” You hiccuped a sob, wanting to sink to the ground but resisting. “I’m sorry I am so fucking sorry.” 

Sanji had tried to be blank, tried to act like he didn’t care. And he had done a pretty convincing job if he did say so himself, but the moment he heard that broken sob his resolve shattered. His arms were around your waist before you could fully realize it, he pulled you into his chest, one arm holding you close, the other bringing a hand and cradling your head as you cried into his suit jacket. “I swear it was never my intention Sanji, I was just so hurt.” You tried to pull your head away but he held it firmly. “I never meant to hurt you, I-I…I don’t know, I’m just s-so sorry.”

“You shouldn't be sorry, I’m the one who’s sorry.” You could feel his lips move against the top of your head. “I should have figured out a way to come sooner, you should have heard the news from me, not from her.” He sighed heavily “And I-I was the one who agreed to marry her…Not at first, but when I saw you and him like that…I just convinced myself that things would be better if I left you here with him.” You felt your heart shatter, erupting back into broken sobs, your body rattling as he held you tightly against him.

“How can you even stand to be around me?” You managed to get out between gasps for breath you couldn’t catch and broken sobs. 

“I made mistakes too.” You didn’t want to know what they were, but something about knowing you weren’t the only one who was far from your best self through this whole situation quieted your sobs. 

“I don’t think I want to know what they were.” You sniffed, his finger pulling your chin up so he could see your puffy, tear stricken face, a small smile on his chapped lips. 

“Why don’t we start over?” You nod, his smile widening. “Can I make it up to you?” You furrow your brow, wordlessly questioning him. 

“If we’re starting over, there’s no need for you to make anything up to me.” He shook his head, a slight blush spreading across his cheeks. “You don’t have to do anything for me.” You couldn’t resist cupping his cheek, the tip of your thumb swiping a tear that was just about to fall. 

“Please,” You couldn’t help but smile at his plea. “I-I just don’t think I can…” His eyes darted away from yours “I don’t think I can be dominant like him.” 

“Oh…I didn’t realize you meant make it up to me like that.” 

“I don’t have to, I just thou-” You shook your head, unable to fight the smile off.

“No no Sanji, I just thought you were offering to bake me a cake or something.” 

“I can do that too, or instead if you’d prefer.” You shook your head and pulled his face closer to yours. “After seeing you like that, it’s all I can think about. I need to see it again, I need to be the one who makes you sound like that. But I-“ He leaned forward, his lips against the pulse point in your neck, “I don’t think I can treat you the way he did, to h-hit you like that.” Memories of Zoro’s rough hand spanking you as his orgasm approached came flooding back, your thighs clenching around nothing at the thought. You could feel him breath in your scent, something he had gotten into the habit of doing for comfort. His soft lips trailed from your neck, up your cheek and finally they were inches from yours. 

“I don’t need you to be like him, I want you to be you. I can be the one in charge if that’s easier for you.” Your lips were a hair apart and just before you closed the gap a whine slipped past his lips, clearly you weren’t the only one who was withholding some turn ons. 

Your whole body melted into his hold the moment your lips met. Every kiss with him was always a whirlwind, breathtaking, and perfect in every way. You had loved the way Zoro dominated your mouth but there was something in the way Sanji kissed that was unmatched. His hands were clawing at the back of your shirt,  moaning into the kiss. He had always been needy, maybe even a bit whiny, but this was on a whole new level.  It was like he had been starving for this, for you. And now that he finally had you in his grasp he could let loose. 

You had to push his chest in order to get him to pull away from your lips, he was already straining against his trousers and all you had done was kiss. “P-Please.” The words came out as though they were a breath. “Use me.” 

“Wha-” Both hands cupped your cheeks, as though he thought you would look away. 

“Use me for your own pleasure, take what you need, please. I need you to use me.” He guided your head to the side so he had access to your neck, pressing needy kisses on every inch of skin he could get to. “You tell me what to do, where to sit, how to touch you, fuck please, I’d do anything for you. I just want to hear what he got to hear.” His words were punctuated by kisses and nips at your skin. Despite his hands barely even touching you, you knew you were already wet. 

“You’re sure?” He moaned at the question.

“I’ve never wanted something so badly.” His lips made their way back to your lips, meeting in a sloppy kiss that you both needed more than air in that moment. As your mouths were busy you managed to pull your workout shirt off, his hands shoving your shorts down your legs, leaving you completely bare to him. You could tell by how he was grabbing at your skin he was trying to be rougher than normal, trying to mimic how he had seen Zoro manipulate you. Your lips slipped from his, moving to kiss along his cheek until you could nip at his ear lobe. 

“So you want me to use you?” You hadn’t intended for your voice to be so sultry, and by the wanton whine that slipped from his lips you knew that was a yes. “Can you get on your knees for me?” Before the sentence had fully left your mouth he was kneeling in front of you, his hands on the outside of your thighs with his gaze trained on you waiting for your next request. The sight of him fully dressed in front of your entirely bare body was never something you thought about, never something you expected to turn you on half as much as it clearly did. You held out a hand, he quickly put his in yours and allowed it to be brought to your lips where you greedily sucked on his middle and index fingers, that tasted of metal filled your mouth as you lapped drooled around his rings. Such a simple act was making your slick begin to seep to your outer lips, you could tell he wanted to delve in, press his face between your folds but yet he remained, patiently awaiting your next instructions. 

When you were finished with his fingers you allowed his hand to slip from your grasp, his eyes remained trained on you, waiting patiently despite knowing where this was going. “Go ahead.” He moaned at the permission, his tongue was the first part of him to touch your, followed shortly by his lips as he moaned into you. ”N-Now I want you to finger me at the same time.” It took all your focus to get those words out as steady as they were. He slipped his middle finger in with ease, you were practically dripping already, he had many skills but you were confident that next to his cooking skills his next best skill was his ability to eat you out. The way he would somehow simultaneously suck on your clit while gathering your slick with his tongue was inhuman. But the way he moved his finger inside of you at the same time already had you racing towards your peak. “G-gods you’re doing so good.” You silently wished there was something behind you to put some of your weight on, but the second he used his free hand to guide your leg over his shoulder any thought of suggesting a change of position died. He added another finger without instruction but your brain was so far gone you didn’t even realize it. Your fingers knotted themselves in his golden hair, tugging harder than you ever had before, helping him maintain the pace you craved. It got to a point where he just extended out his tongue and allowed you to manipulate him however you needed, grinding against him desperately. His moans got louder, begging for your cum without words . His fingers were moving inside of you the same way Zoro’s had, and while Zoro’s fingers were thicker, Sanji’s managed to reach so much deeper. Your grip somehow tightened even more on Sanji’s hair, your hips ground even harder against his mouth when you finally came, your head lolling backwards as a drawn out moan slipped past your loose lips. 

You came down slowly, releasing Sanji’s hair but never telling him to stop. His fingers slowed as did his tongue which had gone back to lazily lapping at your clit. Once you had come down from your orgasm, your body feeling limp and the cringe of over stimulation finally hitting you, you whined, grabbing his hair looser this time and pulling his face away from your mound. He looked up at you, his eyes glassy and your face absolutely covered in your slick, watching as his tongue ran over his lips tasting as much of you as he could. “You did so good.” He moaned at your words, “You’re such a good boy.” You knelt down, meeting his lips as he moaned at the pet name. You could clearly taste yourself on his tongue, arms wrapping around you and his hands slipping low enough that he could dig his fingers into the meat of your ass. 

“I missed your taste so much.” You're fairly certain he didn’t intend to say that out loud, the words muffled by your mouth against his before finally pulling back. “I thought I’d never get to taste you again.” You ran a hand over his cheek, your thumb brushing over his lower lip. 

“I’m not done with you, you know that right?.” Your hand slid down from his cheek until you could begin working the buttons of his blue and black striped dress shirt open.  It didn’t take long before you were straddling his lap, surely leaving a damp spot on his pristine slacks. The feeling of his soft, warm chest against your hands was something you had never quite experienced with anyone else but him. Zoro’s skin has nothing on Sanji’s. He breathed a curse, his nails digging into your hips trying to stop you from grinding against him, something you hadn’t been conscious of. You eyes met his, “I-I’m sorry.” he looked away from you, “I-I just…I’m really close…” His cheeks flushed pink, the blush even blooming on his chest as you pushed his shirt off his shoulder. “Aw, do you need more attention?” He nodded, still refusing to look at you. With the amount of teasing Zoro had put him through regarding his stamina you knew it had become a bit of an insecurity for him. Despite it never really being an issue in your experience you knew that he got worked up fast and if you kept going he would finish without much help, but you had no intention of ending this prematurely. You slipped off his lap, pushing yourself up to stand up straight before nodding towards the bed. “On the bed, sit on the edge.” He scrambles to his feet, staggering the short distance from where he had been kneeling on the floor to pull himself onto the plush comforter. “You’ve been so good Sanji” You ran a single finger along his jaw, his eyes glued to you waiting in anticipation for your next instruction, but little did he know, you were taking a break from instructing. “I think you’ve earned yourself a reward,” You pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, being careful not to graze his straining crotch with your body. “Don’t you think?” He nodded, trying to move his head to catch your lips in a kiss but you move your head before he’s able to. “But I need you to do something for me,” 

“A-anything” his voice is as rough as it is first thing in the morning, a sound you always loved but rarely got lucky enough to hear. 

“You won’t like it.” With a finger under his chin you lead his lips to yours, stopping when your noses brush. 

“I’ll do anything, as long as you like it, it doesn’t matter.” You slid your face along his, your lips going as far as being able to brush against the shell of your ear. 

“I want you to cum in my mouth.” You heard his breath catch in his throat followed shortly by the hint of a whine. “I know you don’t usually li-“

“Please!” He interrupted you mid sentence, “Please let me” You trailed a few kisses from him ear down his neck, no longer having the fabric of his shirt to block your descent, kisses turning to playful nips as they got lower. Taking a second to dart your tongue out and feel the way his stomach tensed when you swiped it over his pebbled nipple before going lower. 

“You’ve been such a good boy for me tonight, it only makes sense for me to make you feel as good as you made me feel, don’t you think?” You looked at him as you pulled at the button of his trousers, watching as he nodded repeatedly. You pulled his pants open, barely giving him a chance to push them down before you were fishing his cock out. He raised his hips enough to push his pants down, letting them pool at his feet as you wrapped your hand around him. 

You always loved how reactive he was on the few occasions he allowed you to touch him. Not to say he was ever not reactive for you, there were a number of nights you wished you could have shoved his face in a pillow to get him to quiet down. But when you had his cock in your hand he was almost limp. Slowly you stroked him, kissing along his inner thigh the way he always did to you, going from the side of his knee inward until his leg met his body before repeating it on the other side, only met with frustrated moans when you pulled back. “P-please” You almost missed it, confusing it for a particularly shaky sigh rather than a plea.

”Please what, my pet?” You rubbed your cheek against his cock, feeling the precum that was leaking from the tip smear across your skin, watching him moan from his open mouth. “You know I’ll do anything for you, all you have to do is use your words like a good boy.” You could barely resist his cock anymore, his smell was almost intoxicating. 

“I need to feel you” You rubbed your face against him more,

”You can feel me like this.” You loved playing dumb with him.

“I need to feel inside of yo-u” His words hiccuped as you ran a hand up his thigh.

“Well why didn’t you just say that.” Keeping your gaze trained on him you swallowed his cock in one go, giving him no time to process or get used to the warmth of his mouth. A high pitched moan ripped from his throat, his hands grabbing fist fulls of your hair on instinct, but your moan at his reaction convinced him not to move them. 

You wanted to tease him more, break him down until he was begging. But you had missed him just as much as he missed you, you had just forced yourself to ignore it. You loved how Zoro fucked you, loved the way he’d force his cock down your throat at the drop of a hat, and then pound into your mouth like you just an object to be used. But something about Sanji got you so wet, maybe it was the way his cock felt in your mouth, the fact that your jaw didn’t get sore from the sheer girth, or how his body curved over you, almost to the point where you could feel his chest every time you pulled off him. “I-I f-fuck I’m alm-most there” His wordless were pleas, as though he thought at any second you were going to pull off and leave him like that. You doubled down, swallowing his cock over and over, making sure to moan around him as you did so. His hips began to buck up into your mouth, pushing his member into your throat once, twice then he came, his seed running down your throat as though it were water and you had been dehydrated. With every pulse he pushed back into your throat, each thrust weaker than the last until his body fell backwards and he whined, begging you to stop. 

God even his taste was different then Zoro’s. You accredited the slightly bitter taste to his habit of chain smoking, you didn’t dislike the flavor nearly as much as you did the vice. You pulled off his cock, watching it quickly deflate as you run your hands up and down his thighs. Your knees crack as you stand, only on your feet for a second or two before you crawl on the bed, manoeuvring yourself so you can lay next to him, quickly getting pulled so your head is on his chest. “We’re not done, I know you can go again.” He did something that was somewhere between a laugh and a moan, his hand holding you tightly against him. 

”I could never forget you.” The words seemed so out of place in your mind but yet tugged at a memory you had pushed far back. Even when you were concentrating on recalling it, you struggled, only able to remember it had something to do with Zoro and that forsaken night. 

“How much did you see?” The question fell from your lips before you even realized. That and other variations of the question had been plaguing your mind since you found out he had been there for even one second, and you silently hoped he had been there for even less. 

“Enough to get the picture.” The silence between you stretched on, and part of you thought you weren’t actually going to continue. “I heard more than I saw.” 

“Okay, what did you hear then?” 

“You begged.” 

“Y-yeah.” 

“Did you let him cum inside of you?” You nodded against his chest, clearly able to hear his heart beat faster. 

“You never let me-“

“You never gave me the choice.” You cut him off. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted someone to do that?” you pushed yourself up, moving to straddle his waist, not at all surprised when you felt his semi erect member nudge against your ass. “I never had a say in our sex life.” His gaze averted from you “And that’s not to say it wasn’t good, sometimes it was great. But there were things I wanted to try, wanted to try with you, but I never got to speak up.” Your hands were on his chest to keep yourself up, his hands wrapping around your forearms for the extra support. “Even things I liked to do, you didn’t want me to do. This might come as a surprise Sanji, but I love sucking your dick.” His cheeks were burning and you could tell he was fully hard again. “I love it so fuckin’ much, I love when you cum in my mouth. But you never let yourself, you were just so stuck in the routine that you wouldn’t listen to what I wanted to do to you.” It felt like a weight was lifted off of you, for the first time since this whole thing, you felt like you and Sanji may actually have a chance if he was willing to give it another try.

”I just…I didn’t want to be one of those guys who never makes their partner finish.” His words were unsure, and he still refused to meet your eye line again. 

“You’ve never been one of those people, Sanji.” You cupped a cheek in your hand, gently guiding him to meet your gaze. “For all the things you may not have done, you always made me cum.” You leaned down, pressing your lips to his for a moment before pulling away. “Sometimes, I just want to return the favor.” 

“What about being rough?” 

“If you’re not into that, you don’t have to do it. I'm never going to force you to, or not want to have sex with you because there’s something you’re not comfortable with. But, that being said, you don’t need to hit me to be more dominant.” His lips tightened into a straight line, you could tell he was thinking very carefully about his next words, deciding whether or not to say it, so you kept talking. “I don’t need you to be rough, I just want us to be able to talk about things. Because Sanji, when it gets down to it, I like you for more than your cock.” You brought your lips down to his again allowing yourself to melt into the kiss as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you down against him. ”I’m really sorry”, your words were swallowed by him, the only sign that he actually heard them was the way he tightened his arms around you.

”What if I hurt you?” His sentence was punctuated by the sloppy kisses he was leaving along your cheek and down to your neck.

“Maybe I want you to hurt me a little.” You shrug, your breath hitching as he nips at your collarbone, doing it again to the same reaction. He begins to sit up, pushing you back so he could have more access to your chest. You allow him to kiss and lap patterns along your chest, surely littering hickies all over you, he’s so lost in the moment he doesn’t even register the way you guide his swollen cock between your legs. He only seemed to register it when he felt the head of his cock rub between your slick folds, moaning into your breast as you sank down onto him at a painfully slow pace. You cradle his head against you, running your fingers through his silky hair breathing in his scent when he’s fully inside of you. You feel him let out a shaky breath, clearly trying so hard to last, already on the edge. “Look at me” You let go of his head but when he doesn’t move you bring a hand back into his tresses, grabbing them and yanking his gaze up, a whine coming from his bitten lips, “I said, look at me.” His eyes were glassy and his cheeks flushed, but god he looked amazing. 

You had never thought yourself to be dominant, but something about how willing he is to do anything you ask, and those sounds, gods the sounds he makes really did something to you. Everything he did only managed to stoke the fire that was raging low in your stomach. “See my love,” You let go of his hair, dragging your hand down and along his cheek, “Did that hurt?” You could see the cogs in his brain attempting to turn, clearly clouded by the fogs of lust. He shook his head slowly, “Did it feel good?” He nodded. “Do you want me to do it again?” He nodded quickly, his lips parting. You couldn’t resist his pink lips anymore, leaning down to kiss him roughly both hands cupping his cranium, knitting your fingers through his hair and tugging every so often, your hips moving as you kissed. 

Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t have parted your lips from his. You were fucking yourself on him, his hands running down your back and grabbing your ass harder then he had before, clearly getting a sense for what you were asking of him. It wasn’t until you felt him trying to pull away from your lips, his hands grabbing your hips hard enough to still your movements. “Do you want me t- How should I finish?” You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your lips, the fact that he was asking what you wanted was all you had ever wanted. You pulled away, a hand on his chest pushed him back on the bed, his hands releasing his hold on your waist so you could sink down fully on him. 

“I want you to do exactly what I tell you, okay?” His expression was priceless, you’re confident that if he hadn’t been actively fighting the urge he would have cum at the sentence alone. 

“P-please.” His voice was a sigh more than anything. 

“Hand,” You put your hand out in front of you, quickly he placed his in yours which you pulled forward, manipulating it until you could press the pad of his thumb on your clit, the rest of it splayed out on your lower stomach. “I want you to keep that right there, you don’t need to move it or anything just- just the pressure.” Having his finger right where you needed it was already ushering you towards your edge and you weren’t even fucking your self on him yet. “Can you do that?” With an expression of amazement he nodded, “Then, I’m going to fuck myself on your cock, okay?” 

“God yes” 

“You better not take your eyes off of me.” You leaned forward, your hands rubbing along his chest as you did so. “Not until you cum inside me, got it?” You knew he did, you knew he was going to be such a good boy for you and do exactly what he was told. “Think you can do that?” Your lips moved against his, swallowing his moans whenever he tried to answer. “Hmm what was that?” 

“Y-yes I can, shit I can do that f-for you mm-o-“ His sentence was broken off by a long moan.

”That’s my good boy.” You pushed yourself back up before he could try to kiss you, your eyes never leaving his as you began to fuck yourself on him. You ground your hips against him, the sound of skin slapping and both of your moans intermingling echoed off the walls of your bedroom. You grabbed his free hand, bringing it to your lips and pressed kisses to it before moving it so he was grabbing your breast, a moan falling from his lips as he toyed with the soft fat. 

“I’m n-not g-“ His eyes fluttered shut for a brief second, but you were feeling generous and opted not to point it out, feeling yourself nearing your climax for the second time tonight. 

“Move your finger, in slow even circles.” You were surprised by how even your tone was, watching as he nodded slightly before doing exactly as instructed.

“God you’re so good for me, Sanji” Your voice was wavering now, shaking as your thighs began to tremble, your hips speeding up as you chased your mounting high. “My good boy, always m-making me cu-um” You wished you had been able to keep your eyes open when the wave of your orgasm crashed into you as though it were a welcomed tsunami. Your hips sputtered, stilling for a moment as his fingers never stopped. Your eyes opened to see his brow furrowed and his lips caught harshly between his teeth. 

“C-can I cum, p-please?” You pulled his hands off of you, your hips stilled as you lean down, chest against his. 

“You want to cum now?” He nodded, whining when your lips pressed to his neck, his hands sliding up your thighs and around to dully scratch at your hips. “You’ve been so good for me, but I need you to use your words.” You lifted your hips, bringing them down quickly once, a long drawn out whine escaping his open mouth. 

“P-please- '' You repeated your action, the same way Zoro had done to you when he was punctuating his sentence to prove he was better than ‘good’. 

“Please what, baby?” You nipped at his neck, sucking hickies. 

“Please, I need to cum, p-please l-let me-e.” 

“I think you can ask nicer than that.” You pushed yourself back a bit, supporting your weight on either side of his head, his eyes going from yours to your hanging breasts that were just out of his reach. ”Just ask nicely and I’ll give you exactly what you want.” His gaze moved back to meet yours, his pupils were blown out and his eyes glassy. 

“M-mom-mommy please,” Oh… As though he realized what he had just called you his face went bright red, breaking your eye contact, his hands balling on your hips. You watched in real time as he began getting in his own head, but you weren’t going to let that happen. 

“Does my baby need to cum that bad?” You used a hand to pull his chin back to look at you, shock written across his face. “Maybe just this once I’ll let you cum without asking nicely, what do you think?” You nodded his head for him, moving your hand back to support your weight while moving forward so he could finally reach your breast which had been just out of reach virtually all night. 

You knew the pace he liked towards the end, and you did your best to replicate it without his guidance, but when it proved quite difficult to do in this position you sat up fully, his tit falling from his mouth as you bounced on his cock. 

You knew this was about him, but when you felt the burning coil start to tighten in your loins for the third time that night you couldn’t stop yourself from rubbing your clit as you fucked yourself. You leaned backwards, your free hand supporting yourself on his knee, his cock hitting you at such an angle you thought you might be able to see his outline in your lower stomach. “S-Sanji I-I want you -to cum-m inside” 

His hands on your thighs tightened and he began thrusting up into you as best as he could, sitting up suddenly to make it easier to fuck you. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you against him allowing you to focus on getting yourself off. He only managed a few thrusts before you felt a rush of warmth inside of you. You managed to time your own, weaker climax to correspond with his, your stomach tightening as you rolled your hips against his, moaning loudly into his shoulder. 

Both of you tried to catch your breath, heads resting on one another’s shoulder. Your hair was sticking to the back of your neck, even to your back. You could feel his cum begin to drip out down his softening cock which was still nestled between your walls, but despite that slightly uncomfortable feeling, neither of you moved. 

Neither of you knew that on the other side of the very thin wall that you shared with the guy’s room, the door had been locked and a certain swordsman was leaning against it. He would never admit to it, he would rather swallow his swords then admit it, but the moment he had seen you come outside long enough to go in the direction of the kitchen he knew where this was going. He had gone into the shared room, pleading it was under the gauze of an evening nap but when he flicked the lock his shirt was off, his pants followed closely behind. For what felt like half an hour he laid there in wait, almost falling asleep when he thought he may have been wrong. But when he heard your startled yelp when you noticed Sanji in your bedroom his cock began to stiffen. Since that moment he had been working his erection, cumming twice, the sound of your moans reminded him of the first night you two were together. He had been chasing those sounds every time he fucked you, but they were never the same. But as soon as Sanji’s tongue touched your engorged clit your first whimper was exactly the same. 

He had to be the one to make those sounds again, no matter what it took.

[nataliaromanovasworld]

A Soul for a Soul

Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader oneshot

Summary: During the events of endgame, you traded your soul for the soul stone after losing everything, your girlfriend Wanda, in the blip. However, when the avengers won, not having you there destroyed Wanda. Until, Natasha decides to trade her soul.

Wanda Maximoff Masterlist

Vormir 2018

You stand at the edge of the cliff, the wind howling like a distant cry for help. Vormir is as desolate as the emptiness you've been living with for five years. Natasha stands beside you, her jaw tight, while Clint keeps his gaze locked on the horizon, as if looking away from you would somehow make what you're about to do hurt less.

The soul stone lies just beyond the precipice, its power hidden in that endless chasm, and the only thing standing between you and it is the cost. A soul for a soul.

You never thought this would be your fate. Then again, you never thought Thanos would win either. Or that you'd lose Wanda. After all, Wanda was your world, and when she disintegrated in the Snap, everything you cared about turned to dust with her. The drinking came easily after that, an old coping mechanism that, this time, no one - not even Natasha - could pull you out of.

Five years. Five years of surviving, but not living. A hollow existence that ended here, on Vormir. A fitting end, you thought. You hadn't done enough to save Wanda then, but you could now - by helping bring her, and half of the universe, back.

"Don't do this." Natasha's voice is tight, breaking slightly. She grips your arm with a fierceness that mirrors the bond you've shared since childhood.

"Let me go Nat," you say, quietly, trying to sound resolute, but your voice is weaker than you want it to be.

Clint glances at you, then to Natasha. "We can find another way," he insists. "There's always another way."

But you shake your head. "No," you reply, stepping closer to the edge. "I don't have anything left to lose."

Natasha's hand tightens around your arm. "That's not true."

"It is," you whisper, eyes dropping to the stone at your feet. "Wanda... She's gone, Nat. I lost her, and I couldn't... I couldn't protect her. I couldn't save her. I failed her. I failed all of you."

"You didn't fail anyone," Natasha hisses, her voice trembling. "You think this is what Wanda would've wanted? For you to-"

"She's not here to tell me what she wants!" You yell, harsher than intended. The words slip through your gritted teeth, the rage, the grief, the guilt that's been rotting you from the inside out finally spilling over. "But I am," you say, quieter now, stepping even closer to the edge. The abyss beckons, like it's been waiting for you all along. "And I'm choosing this."

Natasha's eyes glisten. "You don't have to."

You smile, a bittersweet thing. "Yes I do."

Before she can protest again, you gently pull yourself from her grasp, give Clint a nod, and leap.

The fall feels like freedom, like release. The last thing you hear before the world fades away is Natasha's anguished scream.

The Afterlife, 2024

Death is not what you expected.

In the afterlife, there's no grand reunion, no peace. There's just you - waiting in an endless expanse of white, devoid of time, suspended in a purgatory that doesn't feel much different from how you'd been living before.

You still feel everything. The sorrow, the regret, the memories of Wanda, of Natasha, of the war you couldn't win. It plays like an endless loop in your mind. You'd hoped for peace, for the pain to fade, but no... here, it's sharper than ever.

But then, one day - or whatever passes for days here - you hear her voice.

"Get up."

You blink, startled, your heart racing in disbelief. It can't be.

"Nat?" You whisper, pushing yourself to your feet. She stands before you, her red hair glowing against the white void. She looks the same as she always did - strong, determined - but there's a new weight to her gaze, something dark and sorrowful.

Your eyes narrow. "What did you do?"

Natasha sighs, running a hand through her hair. "The same thing you did."

A chill runs through you. "No."

"Yes."

You step forward, anger bubbling to the surface. "You traded your soul? Are you - are you out of your mind? Why the hell would you do that?"

"For her," Natasha says, her voice steady, but her eyes glisten with unshed tears. "For Wanda."

The mention of her name sends a jolt of pain through you. You turn away, fists clenched. "You shouldn't have done that. I'm the one who needed to-"

"You were dead," Natasha interrupts, stepping closer. "You weren't there to see what happened to her. She needed you, and I... I tried, but I couldn't save her. And now..." Her voice breaks. "Now she's lost, completely lost, and the only thing that can pull her back is you."

You freeze, your heart pounding. "What do you mean, lost?"

"She's... she's created a reality," Natasha explains, her voice low, shaky. "A place called Westview. It's all an illusion, a perfect world where you never died, where Pietro is still alive, and... and where she has everything she's lost. But it's tearing her apart. She's breaking, and I can't stop it. I couldn't reach her. Only you can."

Your chest tightens, emotions swirling inside you - fear, guilt, anger, love. "She's alive?"

Natasha nods. "But she's not herself, not anymore."

You stumble back, rubbing your hands over your face, trying to wrap your mind around it all. You died to bring everyone back, to give Wanda her life back - and now... this.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" you snap, guilt seeping through your words. You can't believe it - Wanda, alive but trapped in her own grief, and you were just... here. Waiting.

Natasha looks at you with a mixture of pity and resolve. "Because I wasn't going to let you give up again. You need to fight for her now."

You stare at her, your mind spinning. "I... I can't. She won't even recognise me."

"Yes she will," Natasha insists. "She's been waiting for you."

You shake your head. "I'm dead Nat."

"Not anymore."

The air around you seems to shift, the whiteness swirling into shades of grey. Natasha steps closer, her hands on your shoulders. "I'm not coming back from this. You are."

Tears prick your eyes. "I can't... I can't lose you too."

She smiles sadly. "You already did sestra." Her hands tighten on your shoulders, grounding you. "I love you Nugget. Always have. But Wanda... Wanda's your family now. She needs you, more than I ever could."

You want to argue, to tell her she's wrong, that she's your sister, that you still need her, but the words get stuck in your throat. The light around her is dimming, her presence slipping away.

"Take care of her," Natasha whispers.

Before you can speak again, everything fades to black.

Westview, 2024

When you wake, it's in the middle of a street lined with quaint suburban houses. Westview.

The air hums with energy, with something unnatural, and as you rise to your feet, the first thing you feel is her.

Wanda.

She's close - closer than she's been in years. Your heart aches, your pulse quickening at the familiar sensation of her presence. The bond you once shared hasn't diminished with death; if anything, it's stronger now.

You take a deep breath and follow the pull, your legs moving on instinct. The town around you feels strange, almost too perfect, like you're walking through a TV set. People wave at you, smiling, going about their day as if nothing is wrong, but you can sense the cracks in the facade. The tension, the undercurrent of fear.

And then, you see her.

Wanda stands at the end of the street, cradling two small children in her arms. Her dark hair spills over her shoulders, her face serene but... off, as though the smile she wears is too forced, too fragile.

Your breath catches in your throat as you step closer.

"Wanda?" you whisper.

Her head snaps up, and for a moment, she looks at you like she's seeing a ghost. Maybe she is. Her eyes widen, the children in her arms forgotten as they run off to play.

You take another step. "It's me."

Her lips part, trembling. "You..."

Tears fill her eyes, and she stumbles toward you, her hands reaching out like she needs to touch you to know you're real.

You catch her as she falls into you, her fingers gripping your jacket like a lifeline. "You're... you're dead. You died," she whispers, her voice trembling with disbelief and hope and fear all at once.

"I did," you murmur, wrapping your arms around her, holding her as tightly as you can. "But I'm here now."

Wanda pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, her hands cupping your face, trembling. "How?"

You exhale slowly. "Natasha."

Her breath catches in her throat, her eyes widening with realisation, and then they close, her face contorting in pain. "No..." she whispers. "She didn't..."

"She did." You take her hands in yours, squeezing them gently. "A soul for a soul."

Wanda's tears spill over, and she shakes her head. "I didn't want this," she sobs, her voice breaking. "I just wanted you back."

"I know," you say softly. "I know."

She pulls away, pacing back and forth as her grief morphs into something darker, something more volatile. "I couldn't... I couldn't lose you again. I couldn't lose him again," she cries, her voice rising with each word. "Everything I loved was taken from me."

"I know, Wanda," You repeat, stepping toward her. "But this... this isn't the way."

Her magic flares, the scarlet energy crackling at her fingertips. "What am I supposed to do?" she demands, her voice desperate, eyes wild. "I had nothing left. I needed this - I needed you."

You take her hands again, ignoring the magic pulsing through her, and pull her into your arms. "You don't need to live in this world. Not anymore. I'm here now. I'm real. And I'm not going anywhere."

She buries her face in your chest,

her shoulders shaking with sobs. You hold her, whispering soft reassurances, letting her grief and pain flow through you. It’s overwhelming, all-consuming, but you don’t let go.

After a while, her magic begins to fade, the energy in the air softening. The illusion around you—the perfect world she created—starts to flicker.

"I can’t keep doing this," she whispers, her voice hoarse.

"You don’t have to," you murmur into her hair. "We’ll figure it out together."

She looks up at you, her red-rimmed eyes filled with so much sorrow, so much love. "Promise?"

You smile softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I promise."

And for the first time in years, you feel like you’re home.

[porphyriosao3]

Day 1 - The Mountain

The sun was 'setting' on a dismal grey day. Presumably setting at least, an onlooker might think, because far in the west, a marginally brighter spot low on the cloud covered horizon marked the only indicator that the night had not yet officially fallen.  The dull ashen light barely showed a long train of wagons and footsore dwarves walking through the scrubby bushes and tall grass on the eaves of the Greenwood.

"D'you think they know we're coming?  The miners?" Bulfi whispered to the king, his voice pitched low.  The last thing they needed was to give the group any new worries.  The warriors on the outside of the group were already wary from repeated orc attacks, and what they would find when they arrived... remained to be seen.  The old advisor worried about everything, but Thrain thought he wasn't wrong in this.  Not at all.  He thanked Mahal every day that the old dwarf had made it out.  Just the thought of surviving without him sent a chill up his spine.

"I sent a raven," the king said, repeating his answer to the question he had given easily a dozen times before.  "Surely it got through..."  Bulfi's grim face reflected his own.  They had no word in response.  Mahal's own fires, the king thought sourly, what am I supposed to say?  What am I supposed to do?

"Well, I suppose we'll see soon enough," was Bulfi's response.  He glanced around at the distant, brassy cries of a tiny pebble, furious at, well, everything.  The state of the world. I can't blame you, child, Thrain thought.  I feel the same, the very same.  He only hoped the sound didn't set the other children crying; such a noise would be like catnip to the orcs that occasionally hunted these lands from the Grey Mountains to the north. 

They had been on the road for weeks from the ruin of Khazad-Dûm.  No time to gather more than the bare necessities; pure luck they had any more than the clothes on their backs, really.  Thrain's father had run into the depths to face that... thing... that had killed his grandfather.  Needless to say, and to the shock of no-one, he had not returned.  Thrain himself had taken the sensible route, though it made him heartsick. Instead of going with his father into a heroic death, he chose pragmatism. He rallied what dwarves he could find on the first deep, soldiers, civilians, everyone in the great city he passed. He put people to work to amass what food and materiel could be gathered, arm and call up the soldiers on duty, and arrange their hurried departure.  Departure.  He snorted in miserable amusement, making Bulfi glance over before turning his gaze back to his own sore feet.  Flight, more like.  Rout, if he was honest. Right now he was too tired and heartsick to feel shame, but he knew he would one day.

The distant mountain loomed on the horizon as it had the previous day, and the day before that.  It thrust up from the land below like a fist; mirroring the fury and rebellion against the recent events in Thrain's own heart. Imaginings of revenge and such impossibilities aside, though, they had to arrive before they could plan anything. Even dwarves could only move so fast. 

Despite being the king he'd already given up his own seat on the royal wagon to a pregnant dam.  He was far too young to be king, but that was his title, despite feeling regal as the muck beneath the wheels of the wagons. Old Bulfi had made the same gesture, though Thrain wished he hadn't. Children were the most important, yes, but without his advisor's guidance he would be so lost he might make an even worse muddle than he had.  Mahal grant that the dams bear safely once they reached refuge; it was hard enough for their women to bear when home and safe, and this... Mahal grant that they even survived. 

Thrain was a dwarf surviving on hope.  He hoped that the mining colony was still there, ahead in the distant mountain lingering on the horizon.  He hoped that they wouldn't think this was an attacking host.  He hoped that the elves of that bloody great forest wouldn't take exception to the tattered remnants of three of the great clans of the dwarves staggering past their doorstep.  Most of all, he hoped that the mountain ahead was a place of safety. Erebor, the elves called it.  The mountain ahead was all they had left.

[lyra-r05e]

Happy Friday! Instead of a chapter teaser this week, I have a bonus chapter instead 🤭

This is how Seb's 8 heart event fits into my story, What Friends are For.

Chapter 14 - Move to the Music will be posted Sunday, Oct 27.

Wash over me

Late Spring, Year 1

What am I doing with my life.

The rain falls heavier as you drag a wagon full of fishing supplies and an empty chest across the cobblestones of the town square. With the weak sun finally leaving the horizon behind dark clouds, visibility is extra poor. You readjust the hood of your rain jacket, annoyed by the vibration of the wagon handle as you roll over the rough terrain. It's going to be worse dragging this thing through the sand, too.

You came to the farm to be a farmer, not a fisher. But crops don't just grow overnight. A fact so obvious, but somehow one you overlooked when starting your journey here. So here you are, trying to make ends meet between harvests by chasing fish that only come out in the rain. Additionally, you need at least one eel from the ocean for the community centre.

And eels only like the nighttime, according to Willy. It's not like you have anything better to do. Staying up as late as possible will only help make the extra cash you desperately need. So long as you don't pass out, of course.

As you lug the wagon from the sand to the dock, your relief is thwarted by the realization that it'll only be ten times harder to do this with a full load on the way home. With a heavy sigh, the wheels clunk along the boards of the dock.

“Farmer?”

You gasp sharply, dropping the handle of your wagon. It bangs loudly on the docks as it bounces off the wood, matching the thumping of your heart as your whole body jolts in surprise.

Sebastian is sitting at the edge of the dock, legs dangling off the edge. His typical black clothing fully camouflaged him from your view. He looks over his shoulder, pale features barely visible. He's just sitting there, in his hoodie. Getting absolutely soaked.

“Shit, you scared me!” You lean down to pick up the handle, moving a few paces closer to him.

“Hey,” you can make out his light smirk, amused by your reaction, "I'm surprised to find you out here in the rain.”

“I could say the same to you. Are you okay?”

“Oh. Yea…are you?”

“Now that my heart rate has calmed down, yes,” you chuckle lightly. “I don't think I've seen you this far south before.”

“Yea, I'm not much of an outdoor person,” he smiles softly.

“What, uh…whatcha up to?” It's a little awkward, standing over him. You debate sitting next to him so he doesn't have to crank his neck to talk to you.

“I actually like this weather. It makes everyone else disappear, you know? Then I can enjoy the beach alone,” he stares back out at the dark clouds over the horizon.

“Ah. Sorry to bother you,” you start wheeling your wagon back up the docks, taking the hint.

“Wait! That's not what I meant, sorry,” he winces. When you turn back to look at him, he pats the dock beside him for you to join him.

You haven't really spent much time alone with Sebastian. Now that you think about it, you've never really talked with just him. Not that you don't talk to him lots, it's just always between Sam, Abigail or both of them. Even the few times you've gone to his house, it's always to talk with his mom. It would be nice to get to know him a little more, without the influence of others.

You sit next to him, tucking your knees to your chest and covering them with your raincoat. You join him in staring out at the horizon for a few moments, listening to the rain fall hard around you.

“So…what are you up to?” He turns slightly to ask you, breaking the silence.

“I'm trying to catch an eel. They only come out at night when it's raining, and they won't be here when summer comes. Gotta seize the moment, you know?” You hug your knees tight, giving him a soft grin.

“Yea? What do you want an eel for?”

You tense up slightly, hoping he doesn't catch your hesitation. The Junimos want it to fix the aquarium.

“I haven't caught one yet. I'm a completionist,” you say with a cheeky grin.

“I respect that,” he gives you a crooked grin, squinting his eyes as he smiles.

You don't see him smile like that often, he's usually brooding or mildly annoyed. But when you do…it warms your heart. It's so genuine, so…cute. It's too dark for him to see the blush that rose to your cheeks at the thought.

Get it together, Farmer. You barely know him, and he's one of the few people here who you might be able to call a friend. You brush away those thoughts from your mind, telling yourself it's just loneliness catching up to you. You've never thought of him, or anyone in town for that matter, as more than that. You just got here, and have barely settled in.

“Aren't you cold?” You look him up and down briefly. The rain isn't letting up anytime soon.

“Not yet. We’re getting soaked, aren't we…” he reaches into his hoodie pocket, pulling out an umbrella. He turns away from you to open it, then holds it up above both of you as best he can. “Here. There's room for two,” he shuffles a little closer to you, motioning for you to do the same.

You really don't need an umbrella, but the gesture is nice. You scoot closer to him, and lift your hood off as he readjusts the umbrella to be more comfortable.

The rhythmic drops bouncing off the umbrella adds to the calming white noise of the storm. Thunder rumbles in the distance where the looming dark clouds roll in over the horizon. You sit with him in silence for a while, content enjoying the moment.

He sighs, barely audible over the noise, and leans a little closer into you. You reciprocate the extra pressure, shoulders pressed firmly against each other. He must be cold, but the extra warmth from your body heat takes the chill off.

“Do you like this weather?” He breaks the silence.

“I don't mind it, mostly. I don't have to water my crops when it rains,” you tilt your head towards him with a grin.

“That's nice,” he returns your grin, then stares back out at the ocean. “For some reason, staring off into the bleak horizon makes me feel…I dunno. Like it's worthwhile to keep pushing on, I guess.”

Your heart pangs at the statement, confirming your suspicions about his poor mental health. He always seems…sad. Lonely.

“I get it. The rain is calming. Weather like this - rain, snow, thunder, heavy winds - it always reminds me how little I can control. Puts things into perspective, you know?” You hug your knees tighter, glancing at him briefly.

“Yea…Sorry for the depressing topic,” he smiles softly.

“Not everything has to be sunshine and rainbows,” you smirk at him, and he chuckles lightly.

“Being around people makes me feel anxious…” he starts tentatively, then meets your eyes. “I don't feel that way around you, though.”

“I'm glad to hear that,” you smile, leaning into him playfully. “You know…I'm always here if you need someone to talk to. I want to be better friends with you. If you want that, that is,” your confidence falters, and you glance away from his dark eyes.

“Thanks, Farmer,” he smiles warmly.

You lift up your hood again, moving out from the umbrella. “Are you ok if I cast this line?” You motion to your fishing rod.

“Of course,” he watches calmly as you stand, setting up your fishing gear.

To your delight, it doesn't take long for the fish to bite. You stand beside him, catching a bunch of eel and a few halibut. Sebastian cheers you on whenever you get a bite.

You stay chatting on the docks long past midnight, until it gets too cold for either of you to ignore. You wish him a safe walk home as you pack up and brace yourself for the long trek home. It's sad, watching him go. The silent void of loneliness returns as he leaves your view.

[rafemotherfuckingcameron]

FUGITIVE

Word Count: 3.3k

Pairing(s): Rafe x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Gun play, Injury, Cuddling, Kiss

Summary: Ward informs the authorities that Y/N is the one who shot the sheriff.

MASTERLIST

Tuesday 12:07 pm

**Attention all units, the fugitive has been spotted heading southbound towards the ferry. Any available units, please respond**

As I sprint through the tall grass, I sense my legs beginning to tremble from exhaustion. I spot the ferry in the distance and push myself to run even faster. Just as I'm on the verge of reaching it, I witness the ferry pulling away, and in that moment, it becomes clear—I am officially trapped on the island. My breath comes out in heavy gasps as I watch the ferry shrink into the horizon. 

Panic sets in, realising that my escape route has slipped away. The realisation dawns on me—I'm stranded, surrounded by the familiar landscape of the island. With every passing second, the weight of the situation becomes more apparent, and I'm left to contemplate my next move in this unexpected predicament. Suddenly hearing sirens and seeing flashing blue and red lights, the distant sounds draw closer, and a wave of apprehension washes over me. I realise that the authorities have caught up, and my chances of evading capture are rapidly diminishing. 

The once serene island now feels like a labyrinth closing in, amplifying the urgency of finding a hiding place or an alternate escape route. My thoughts run wild, “How did I get here?” I ask myself, a few tears spilling from my eyes.

Yesterday

Entering the back door of the Cameron Estate, I out pull out my phone and send a text to Sarah, inquiring about her whereabouts. However, there's no immediate response.

Deciding to find her myself, I make my way through the maze-like corridors. The house seems almost empty, with only distant sounds echoing through the hallways. Eventually, I reach Sarah's room and gently knock on the door. "Sarah? It's me. Are you in there?" I call out, hoping for a response. I walk back downstairs ready to leave when I hear people talking in the living room. I quietly walk forward, trying to hear them talk, I recognise Wards voice. 

My heart starts to race as I eavesdrop on the intense conversation unfolding in the living room. The revelation of a potentially serious situation involving Ward and a lawyer raises my concern. I discreetly inch closer to the source of the conversation, careful not to make any noise.

The lawyer's response echoes in the room, emphasising the severity of the situation. 

"Ward, it's not as easy as just waving your hand over it. This is murder, you get that right. I'm doing my best to not have you arrested for this," he asserts, making it clear that the matter at hand is grave.

Ward's frustration becomes evident as he raises his voice, "I'm paying 2 million to make this go away, why is it taking so long?" He angrily throws papers off the table, revealing his impatience and perhaps a lack of understanding of the gravity of the situation.

The lawyer, undeterred, warns Ward about the consequences. "Your my lawyer; I expect you to do something soon, or I'll have to take care of you like I did the sheriff," Ward threatens, revealing a darker side to his character and actions.

Panic sets in as you realise that my attempt to discreetly eavesdrop has been foiled by a notification. The sudden turn of events escalates when Ward, reacting swiftly, grabs my wrist and pulls me into the room. The tension in the room is palpable, especially with a gun now in play.

Ward, seemingly caught in a difficult situation, points the gun at my head. The lawyer protests, "Ward, don't do this!" The man appears to have a different plan, whispering something into Ward's ear.

Ward seems to consider the suggestion and, after a moment, holds his head and pulls me forward against him. He places the gun in my hand and then takes it back letting go, instructing me to leave. The situation is bewildering, and it's unclear what the man whispered to Ward or what their motivations might be.

Breathing heavily, I run to a safe distance from the Cameron Estate and quickly retrieve my phone. As the cool night air chills my skin, I dial Sarah's number, desperation evident in my voice as I leave a voicemail.

"Sarah, please pick up. It's urgent, and I really need to talk to you. Please call me back as soon as you get this."

Tuesday 9:00am

The night passes with uneasy quietness, my mind racing at the though of seeing Ward again. I turn on the Tv to watch Netflix when a breaking news story catches my eye. 

“One of our most beloved Sheriff’s has been shot and left for dead on the side of the road. Authorities are looking for Y/N Y/L/N who we believe ended the life of Sheriff Peterkin. We had a witness come forward this morning saying the saw her running late last night, where she was found dead. An offical manhunt is underway and we are bringing in the FBI for the investigation.”

The world around me seems to crumble, and I’m left grappling with the enormity of the accusations. The mention of an official manhunt and the involvement of the FBI add a layer of urgency and severity to the situation.

I grab a bag, throwing some clothes and water in, fuelled by a mix of fear, desperation, and the need to evade the mounting accusations, I make the gut-wrenching decision to flee as a fugitive. With the bag slung over my shoulder, I slip out of my home, leaving behind the life I once knew.

Tuesday 12:30 pm

Heart pounding, I make a split-second decision to run back through the bush. The adrenaline fuels my legs as I sprint, weaving through the trees desperately trying to put as much distance between myself and the approaching sirens. The crunch of leaves beneath my hurried footsteps echoes in my ears.

With every stride, I can sense the pursuit closing in. I risk a glance behind and catch glimpses of flashing lights through the trees. Panic intensifies, urging me to push my limits. As I navigate the uneven terrain, branches claw at me, and thorns snag my clothes, but the urgency to escape propels me forward. 

I reach the road and quickly scan the parked cars for a potential means of escape. Spotting a rock nearby, I grab it with a determined grip. With a surge of adrenaline, I make a swift move toward a car, my breath hitching as I swing the rock into a side window. The shattering glass reverberates through the quiet surroundings, and my heart races with the audacity of my actions.

As I settle into the stolen car, the realiSation hits that my desperate escape requires more than just smashing a window. Glancing around the driver's seat, I spot the exposed wires beneath the steering column. Drawing on every bit of knowledge I've gathered from movies and the unpredictability of the moment, I hesitantly reach for the wires.

Heart pounding, I strip the ends and connect them, praying that the makeshift hot-wiring will breathe life into the stolen vehicle. The distant wail of sirens intensifies, urging me to work faster. The engine responds with a hesitant sputter, then roars to life, a symphony of rebellion against the encroaching authorities.

Adrenaline courses through my veins as I race through the streets, the sound of sirens blaring behind me. With the cops hot on my tail, every second counts. Frustration builds as I try to reach Sarah for help, but once again, there's no response.

I make a split-second to try contacting Rafe, hoping he might have some insight into Sarah's whereabouts. “Hey Siri, call Rafe on speaker,” with the phone now on speaker, I could hear Rafe's voice crackle through the line.

"What's up, Y/n, long time no see," Rafe greets you, his voice tinged with surprise at my sudden call.

"Rafe, have you seen Sarah? I really need to talk to her," I shout urgently into the phone, I voice strained with worry.

There's a moment of silence on the other end, broken only by the sound of the rushing wind and the distant wail of sirens. I hold my breath, hoping for a response.

Then, finally, Rafe's voice comes through, filled with concern. "I haven't seen her recently. Y/n, Is everything okay? What's going on?"

I quickly fill Rafe in on the events that have unfolded and the accusations against me. As I speak, I look into the rearview mirror, and in my moment of distraction, I fail to notice the vehicle abruptly slowing down in front of me.

I crash up the back of the car in front, the windshield smashing into pieces. The airbags deployed hitting me straight in the face. Trying to get out of the car my leg comes into to contact with a piece of hot metal and burns my calf. Pain shoots through my body, causing me to cry out in pain. 

"Y/n! Are you okay? What happened?” Rafe's voice echoes in your ears, filled with urgency and worry. With the pain coursing through my leg, I struggle to respond. Summoning all my strength, I manage to speak a response, “No, I’m not, I need to go. I’ll….I’ll call you back” I say ending the call. Staggering away from the car wreck, I hide behind a fence with overgrown bushes hanging down, just covering me from the cops only a few feet away. 

“Spread out, she can’t be far” I heard one of the cops say. More police arrive to start a search, the only option I had was to run to that alley I see about 500 metres away. I begin to crawl through the long grass, staying low enough to not be seen. The burn on my leg stings as I drag it along the dry grass. 

“Freeze, don’t move!” The cop says, pointing the gun at me, I muster up the last of my energy, lifting my body and running for the alleyway. Just as I reach the buildings, my worst nightmare unfolds before my eyes. The alley is a dead end with no escape route in sight. Panic courses through me as I realise that I've been cornered, trapped like a cornered animal with nowhere left to run.

Tuesday 4:27pm

As the officers draw closer, their authoritative commands ringing in my ears, I reluctantly raise my hands in a gesture of surrender. My heart sinks as I watch their determined advance, their expressions betraying little emotion beyond their duty to enforce the law.

Just as the officers prepare to take me into custody, the sudden cacophony of screeching tires and a roaring engine pierces the tense atmosphere. My eyes widen in astonishment as a white BMW hurtles down the street, barreling towards me at breakneck speed. The car screeches to a sudden halt, and my attention snaps to the passenger door as it swings open. “Y/n, get in!” 

Without hesitation, I seize the opportunity, adrenaline pumping through my veins as I sprint towards the car. I slide into the passenger seat, the door slamming shut behind me as the engine roars back to life.

As I glance over at the driver, a flood of relief washes over me when I see Rafe behind the wheel. With the flick of his wrist we puts the car into gear and hits the gas pedal, I grip onto the door handle tightly as we lurch into motion. 

"Thank you Rafe," I say, my voice filled with gratitude as I turn to him, "I don't know what would’ve happened if you didn’t show up." Rafe offers me a reassuring smile, his eyes look at me and then back at the road. "I'm sorry this has happened to you, Y/n," Rafe's voice cuts through the tension, filled with genuine remorse. "When you called me, I was at home, and when I heard you say Ward was framing you for murder, I confronted him. He admitted it, but he threatened to implicate me as an accessory to murder if I got involved."

“So what are you doing here than?” I questioned. "I couldn't just stand by and let you face this alone," Rafe responds, his voice steady despite the gravity of the situation.

"You're not just a friend, Y/n. I love you and...........and I wouldn’t want anything to bad to happen to you.” There's a quiet resolve in his words, a testament to the depth of our bond and the lengths he's willing to go to ensure my safety. As I meet his gaze, I grasp Rafe’s hand and lace my fingers between his.

A smirk tugs at the corners of Rafe's lips as he continues, his voice laced with a hint of satisfaction. "Plus, I got his confession on my phone."

“What? How?” I asked manoeuvring my body to face him. Rafe's smirk widens at my incredulous reaction. "Let's just say I've learned a thing or two from you about being one step ahead," he replies cryptically, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

I lean in closer, my curiosity piqued. "Seriously, how did you manage to get his confession?" Rafe's expression shifts, his smirk softening into a knowing grin. "Let's just say I have my ways," he replies, his tone teasing yet reassuring. "But trust me, Y/n, we've got everything we need to take him down."

The sound of sirens blares in the distance, growing louder with each passing moment as the police close in on our location. Rafe grits his teeth in determination, his hands steady on the wheel as he navigates tight corners and narrow alleys with expert precision. With the police closing in from all sides, Rafe's knuckles whiten as he grips the steering wheel, his eyes scanning the road ahead for any possible escape route.

Y/n, put your seatbelt on," he instructs, his gaze unwavering as he watches me comply. I nod in acknowledgment, grateful for his concern amidst the chaos, with a quick click I fasten my seat belt.

In a split-second decision born of desperation and quick thinking, Rafe spots an opportunity—a narrow alleyway to the right, barely wide enough for the car to squeeze through. With unwavering resolve, he wrenches the wheel sharply, sending the car careening into the alley with breathtaking speed.

The sudden manoeuvre takes my breath away as the car lurches to the side, narrowly avoiding collision with the surrounding buildings. The police cars, caught off guard by the audacious move, screech to a halt, their pursuit momentarily stalled as they struggle to navigate the tight streets.

Adrenaline courses through my veins as Rafe expertly navigates the twisting alleyway, the walls closing in on either side as if threatening to swallow you whole. The sound of scraping metal and the frantic shouts of the pursuing officers fill the air, As the alleyway opens up into a wider street, I steal a glance behind and see the police cars in disarray, their pursuit thwarted by Rafe's daring manoeuvre. With a sense of exhilaration and relief washing over me, I realise that for now, at least, we’ve managed to get away.

Rafe spots a small, overgrown patch of bushes at the edge of a nearby park. Without hesitation, he veers off the road and drives the car into the cover of the foliage, the branches scratching against the car's exterior as it comes to a halt. With the engine silenced and the car hidden from view, me and Rafe exchange a tense glance. Breathless and on edge, we listen intently for any sign of the police cars, my heart pounding in my chest.

Tuesday 6:15pm

Eventually the sirens started to fade into the night I finally allow myself a moment to catch my breath. With trembling hands, I reach down to unlace my shoes, but as my fingers brush past the burn on my calf, a sharp jolt of pain shoots through my, causing me to inhale sharply.

Concern flickers across Rafe's face as he notices your distress. "Y/n, are you okay?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine worry. I force a weak smile, trying to downplay the pain coursing through me. "I'll be fine," I reassure him, though the strain in my voice betrays my words.

Without hesitation, he reaches into the backseat, rummaging through the contents until he retrieves a small first aid kit.

"Here, let's get that taken care of," Rafe says gently. I offer him a grateful nod, feeling a rush of relief at his calming presence. Rafe carefully cleans the burn, his touch gentle yet efficient as he tends to my injury. The sting of antiseptic is sharp, but it's a welcome sensation.

As Rafe wraps the bandage snugly around my calf, I feel a sense of comfort wash over me, knowing that I’m in good hands. Despite the pain and uncertainty of the night, there's a flicker of hope in your heart, buoyed by the unwavering support of my friend.

"Thank you, Rafe," you say softly, my voice filled with gratitude as I meet his gaze.

He offers me a warm smile in return, his eyes reflecting the depth of his concern. "Anytime, Y/n. We're in this together."

“We should stay here the night and then figure out what to do in the morning.” Rafe says packing up the first aid box. I nod in agreement with Rafe's suggestion, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling in my bones. The events of the night have taken their toll, both physically and emotionally, and the prospect of a few hours of rest is a welcome one.

"Sounds like a plan," I reply, my voice heavy with fatigue. "I could definitely use some sleep."

“You can take the backseat, it’s comfier.” I offer Rafe a grateful smile, "Thanks, Rafe. I appreciate it." With a nod, I settle into the backseat, finding the cushions surprisingly plush beneath me.

As I settle into the backseat, I can't shake the chill that seems to seep into my bones, the night air creeping in through the cracks in the car's windows. Despite the exhaustion weighing heavily on my eyelids, the cold lingers, gnawing at my skin and leaving me shivering.

With a soft sigh, I glance over at Rafe, who's busy making himself comfortable in the front seat. A sudden impulse grips me, and I find myself reaching out to him, my voice small against the backdrop of the night.

"Rafe," I call softly, my breath misting in the chilly air. "It's so cold back here. Do you think... maybe you could come back and... keep me warm?"

There's a moment of hesitation, a flicker of uncertainty in Rafe's eyes, before he nods, understanding dawning on his features. Without a word, he unbuckles his seatbelt and slips into the backseat beside me, his warmth a welcome contrast to the icy air.

As he wraps his arms around me, pulling me close against his chest, I feel a rush of comfort wash over me. The cold seems to melt away in the embrace of his arms, replaced by a sense of safety and security that's all too rare in these uncertain times.

“Rafe?” as I whisper his name, his gaze meets mine with a tender intensity, his eyes reflecting the depth of emotion that mirrors my own “Yeah?” With a steady breath, I voice the words that have been lingering in my heart, knowing that in this moment, amidst the turmoil, there's no room for doubt.

“I love you too!”

With a gentle touch, Rafe tilts my chin upward, closing the distance between us until our lips meet in a tender kiss. Time seems to stand still as we melt into each-other, the world fading away until there's only the warmth of his lips against mine, the rhythm of our breaths intertwining in a silent symphony of love.

In that fleeting moment, every worry, every fear is forgotten, replaced by the overwhelming certainty that in each other's arms, we've found our sanctuary.

As we pull away, breathless and hearts racing, the echo of our kiss lingers in the air, a promise of the love that binds us together, as we hold each other close, lost in the embrace of our love, I'm reminded that no matter what challenges lie ahead, as long as we face them together, we'll emerge stronger, united by the unshakeable power of our love.

🏃‍♀️🚘🚔❤️‍🔥🏃‍♀️🚘🚔❤️‍🔥🏃‍♀️🚘🚔❤️‍🔥🏃‍♀️🚘🚔❤️‍🔥🏃‍♀️🚘🚔❤️‍🔥🏃‍♀️🚘🚔❤️‍🔥🏃‍♀️🚘🚔❤️‍🔥🏃‍♀️🚘🚔❤️‍🔥🏃‍♀️🚘🚔❤️‍🔥🏃‍♀️

[celticcrossanon]

I have given up hope that King Charles will do anything to stop the relentless overt and nonovert attacks from the Californication Duo. He likes, in my opinion, to hide behind the kindly father figure act instead of being a strong, decisive monarch. For quite some time, lady Colin Campbell has hinted that something is on the horizon. Something that would take the duo down definitively. She has moved the date many times upward and it never seems to happen. She recently said that Charles had a decision to make, and if he didn’t make it, it could be taken out of his hands. Do you believe this, do you think anything is on the horizon that could truly take them down? In contrast to what everyone else says, I personally believe that Harry is happy. it doesn’t appear to me that he wants to leave her. I think it’s been wishful thinking on my part at least. Just curious to see what you really think. I am almost at my end of watching this train wreck. It’s probably time for me to take a break, even though I really hope there is some kind of ending to all of this madness.

Hi Nonny,

The situation with Lady C reminds me of the verse from Proverbs, that hope deferred makes the heart sick. I do believe that she was told that something was going to happen, but it has been put off and deferred for so long now that when it does happen, I think the reaction will be more of a 'so what' than anything else (unless it is a really big event).

I think the Harkles have been declining in relevance since they left the BRF, and they decline more with every day that passes, with the bonus that more and more people are a) sick of them and b) seeing them for what they truly are. It is a long, drawn out, slow demise and I understand people getting sick of it and leaving. I also think that what upsets people the most is that the evil the Harkles do either never seems to be punished, or appears to be punished in only the mildest of ways, and that does not satisfy our innate sense of justice.

If the delay in revealing a bombshell about the Harkles is King Charles, then I want that to be made clear when the bombshell drops.

As to Harry leaving Meghan, it seems to be a yes-no-yes-no energy. He gets upset at her and wants to leave, and then something good happens or his pride can't stand admitting his family was right and he decides to stay, then something else happens and he wants to leave, and so on. I do think that they lead separate lives and put on a show of 'happy families' for the camera. Whether that will lead to a separation or whether they will stay at this stage forever is beyond me.

I think taking a break is a good idea. If something big happens then it should make the news and you will hear about it, and in the meantime you can have a rest from all the toxic energy that the Harkles emit.

[explosivehrt]

I wonder if this is how it feels to witness a supernova, to watch the star explode, to burn completely and to be caught in the gravity well of the singularity born from that calamity, from the death of that burning star. I wonder if this is how it feels to pass the event hoizon and fall into its endless, unknown depths.

I wonder of the quiet chill of its abyss feels like coming home.

I wonder if this is how it feels to to Die; and to go to Heaven(because i did, i remember my last moments, the death of a star- but there was nothing after the black but the light of waking- or maybe it was the black of that abyss after the light of the heat-death end- I remember what it is to be killed but not to Die. I don't know where i went before I woke up, but it sure wasn't Heaven). I never want to escape.

Is a black hole a dead thing?

If a neutron star is a corpse is the black hole one too? Born from a star's death as it is? Is it what's left over or is it the effect of the cause- an output? Is it something new? Is it reborn or undead? Or just dead, just some kind of cosmic roadkill?

I walked into a storm and I smiled.

Maybe the black hole- no, its event horizon- is Heaven's gates. The way the light bends into the depths is God.

The star dies, He winks at you and you collapse into the beyond. Where was I going with this?

Am I the star or the supernova? The singularity or whatever’s on the other side of it? What are you when you Die yet you remain? Cosmic and endless, unyeilding and yet a small animal- crouched, trembling, in a feild of stardust.

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Hello I don’t see many stories with them so I was wondering if could write about William and Patry and how they survived in one body without going crazy. I am sorry if my request is a little confusing.

Hiya! ^^

This was a really interesting ask, so I decided to give it a shot. I hope you like it! ^^

Characters: William Vangeance (with mentions of Patri) Genre: General Fanfic type: Oneshot Length: ~0.8k Contains: just ponderings, nothing much

The sound of a breeze flowing through the air, rattling the blades of grass on its way. The sound took flight, and danced around with the wind, disappearing into the distance along with it, as the sun painted the horizon into a gorgeous assembly of reds, oranges and yellows. A sight that never failed to draw William’s eye in, no matter how many times he had walked down the garden path.

No matter how much time would pass, how old he’d grow, that he wouldn’t stop to watch the sunset. Because… there was a kind of a security in it, as, though there were different kinds of sunsets, and how the colours and hues did differ between days and nights, there was always something… similar about them. Something that was the same.

A constant thing in his life.

Pretty, isn’t it? He found himself thinking, only to realize that … it was in vain. For Patri’s soul was no longer with him.

A strange feeling.

A kind of loneliness, but.. there was also liberty in it. To not have someone within yourself at the same time.

The first few weeks had been the oddest. Because… when you have shared your body for your entire life with someone, or at least for as long as you could remember, and then they’re gone. It leaves one feeling a kind of… emptiness. A hollow feeling. Like something is missing.

But at the same time, he knew that this was how it was for most people. That there was only them.

Not that Patri had been… conscious? All the time.

He wasn’t sure how to describe it. Because… when Patri had had control, he had chosen to watch the events play out.

For the most part.

But he was also able to look away. Turn into himself and curl up. Shut away himself from the rest of the world and what his body was doing.

Much like Patri had done from time to time.

Turn away. Shut himself away from what William was thinking and doing. Because they both needed their own time. To not be chatting all the time with the person one was with.

And he supposed that… it was like being in a room with a person.

A lot of the time you’re aware of the person. You talk to each other, or go around each other. Be consciously mindful of each other.

But there is a limit to how much you can, and want, to spare your attention to another person. Which is why sometimes you tune off. Stare the wall. Go to sleep. Mind your own soul.

Go around the metaphysical tree trunk and just admire the leaves of the tree while immersed into your own thoughts, not minding what the other soul in the room was doing.

He supposed that ‘daydreaming’ would have been the best way to explain it to a person who had not been in his place. The feeling of being in a room full of people, but at the same time being a million miles away within the confines of your own thoughts.

“But how can you not know what your body is doing?” Some people had asked him, but… he had found it odd. Because, surely, everyone had those moments when they’re doing something, only to go about their day, and hours later find themselves asking if they had actually done something.

‘Did I lock the door?’

‘Did I turn off the lights?’

‘Did I remember to take my keys with me?’

Most of these things happen with automation. We simply don’t think about them, because our minds are elsewhere. And yet, our bodies move. Do things. We go about our lives, and yet it slips by our minds.

It’s a strange thing.

But not all that impossible as people make it to be.

He and Patri had found a kind of a dynamic equilibrium within that one body, one ‘room’ of a kind, where they weren’t all the time conscious of each other. After all, their souls were their owns. And thus, their minds were… connected in a way yes, but they weren’t the same either.

There was a way of hiding some things. Which is why their friendships developed through dialogue, though within one body. An internal dialogue. Of a kind.

But now it was an internal monologue. Which… was the cause of his loneliness. At times.

But… he’d get over it. He was sure.

If anything, this gave him more freedom. Allowed him to relax in a different way, because he didn’t need to be mindful of another person in the same ‘room’ as often.

He could just be. By himself.

A newfound freedom that was sweeter than he had anticipated. Despite the loneliness.

Yeah… this, this was better. In the end.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Daughter of Rock N Roll 🎸| Pete Mitchell Imagine/TGM Imagine

Takes place after the events of TGM

TGM Masterlist | Read ‘It’s A Long Way To The Top’ & ‘The Rockstar, Her Husband, & Their Dagger Ducklings’ first!

Characters & Pairings: Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x 80s Rockstar!reader (romantic), Bradley Bradshaw x reader (mother/son-type relationship), Dagger Squad (platonic) Hondo (platonic)

Content Warnings: Fluff, slight profanity, flirtatious banter | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 3.3k

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

Premise: when the squad discovered their former Captain was married to one of the most recognizable voices of rock n roll music, one could imagine the many questions they had. There’s always something new to learn about Y/n L/n-Mitchell. Or, how most of the world would know her by, the Daughter of Rock ‘N’ Roll.

Note: Y’all I can not say enough how happy it makes me you guys love me famous!reader x dagger squad pairing works! The rockstar one was my first one and since then I’ve had so many requests to do more! I have I think four in my inbox with Rooster, Coyote & Fanboy so I’m so excited to get started on those. Again I just as you be patient with me if you sent in a request! I’m approaching my last quarter of school so finals are around the corner and I am focused on passing you know 😅 but once summer hits I should be posting more frequently! 🤍

————————————

“So you met Elvis?”

The question sounded the same as it always did when asked. Awe. Wonder. Amazement. All the words that were similar. Always was it met with a smile from Y/n, the memory surfacing in her mind as clear as though it had taken place yesterday.

“I did,” she thanks Pete as he hands her a beer, scooching on the couch to allow him space beside her. Scattered around the bonfire were the daggers either in chairs or couches, nursing their own drinks as the sun descended on the horizon. The dogs were with them too. Ice laid beside Y/n and Mav’s feet, Bella found a cozy spot within Javy’s lap, and Goose took claim to the spot beside Bradley.

“Long time ago. It was 1976–I was twelve years old and my parents had gotten all of us tickets to see him perform in Atlanta. It was a great show,” she smiled fondly at the memory, “then afterwards we left the venue and happened to run into him. I was starstruck as you can imagine. There he was dressed in his red outfit. Hair slicked back and dazzling smile. And I don’t remember asking him to sign my program but I guess I did. All I can remember is him asking what I wanted to be when I grew up—to which I said, “I wanna be a rockstar.’”

Chuckles echo around, the pilots all leaning in their seats with eyes full of fascination. Y/n brought a finger to her chin, deep in thought, “he laughed and handed me back the program saying, ‘Don’t lose that dream, little one.’ Like my mom I was devastated the next year when he died….but I always remembered those words. To never lose my dream.”

Fanboy gestured inside the house, “how’d you get his guitar?” He was referring to the one mounted on the wall of guitars with the icons signature. It was the only one on what the dagger squad liked to call the ‘Guitars of Fame’ to be either once owned by a renowned musician or signed by one. Y/n had one from Prince in her collection as well as a Stratocaster signed by all the members of Queen.

“Charity auction. Back in the late 90s I wanna say it was,” she looked to Pete to see if he could confirm if she was right. At his nod she added, “The reason I wanted it was because it was the one he used at the concert I went to. So when I look at it, it brings me back to that moment of meeting him and as a reminder I achieved that dream he told me never to let go of.”

Javy whistles, causing Bella to perk up in his lap. “That’s so cool.” Murmurs of agreement sound with him, Phoenix crossing her legs in her lap as she asks, “is there anyone you’ve met or worked with who’s been a mentor to you and the band?”

“Diana Ross and Dolly Parton,” the woman doesn’t hesitate. “Gosh I love those women. Not only were they some of our biggest inspirations but they pretty much took us under their wing when we first started out. Even though we were in a completely different genre than both of them, they were like our ‘moms’ in the industry.” She put quotes around the word mom. “You have to remember we were all 14-15 when we were discovered. Being that young made us very vulnerable. Producers would try to take advantage of us—by not giving us the proper cuts or working us like dogs. Artists who’d been in the game longer were envious of the recognition we were getting.”

“You must never forget who you are,” Dolly’s voice echoed, wiping away the lone tear that had fallen from a young Y/n’s eyes. “The media are always going to try to put out the worst image of you. And you must never give them that satisfaction of bringing you down. As long as you know who you are here—,’ she points to her heart, “then they can never take it away from you.”

Y/n paused to sip her beer before continuing, “Dolly and Diana, were and still to this day, the best supporters of our career and always made sure we knew they were there to help if we ever needed them. Whether it be confronting an executive for unfair treatment or if we were at parties or award shows and felt uncomfortable. Saints they are. Absolute saints.”

A few more minutes passed of Y/n praising the two legends of music before they ventured off into discussing moments of Y/n’s career. Rooster of course knew everything so he didn’t ask anything, but would offer insight from time to time. “C’mon Y/n/n,” he waved a hand dramatically, “y’all’s Super Bowl performance is considered one of the best halftime shows and you think it was lackluster? I beg to differ.”

“I have to agree on Rooster with this one, honey,” Pete leans back into the sofa, arm going round her back. The rockstar scoffs, playfully rolling her eyes.

“It was raining the whole time!”

Rooster nearly stands from his seat, “That’s what makes it so iconic! You guys did that shit while it was raining down on you.”

“Yeah and I was shitting my pants the whole time thinking one of us was going to get electrocuted,” Y/n had to laugh. “And when I saw the same thing happen to Prince at his Super Bowl I thought, ‘Oh God I’m getting deja vu.’”

Payback shakes his head with a laugh, “Man I remember watching that live. I wanted to be there so bad—be in that crowd. You guys were phenomenal—and like Roo said, it really was the best performance of all time.”

Y/n gives a shy smile when they all agree, “You know one thing, I was really grateful I chose a black outfit to perform in. I was not going to have a repeat of 1992 with the whole white tank top scandal. Like it was even a scandal,” she makes a face, thinking back to that God awful interview with Diane Sawyer. “My goodness it’s not like I planned for the rain that night. And my tits were covered—,” she laughs at the wide-eyed expressions of some of the guys, “it wasn’t like I was letting them out free. But anyways you know how the media is when shit like that happens.” Y/n turns slightly to look at Pete, “You didn’t care, did you?”

He immediately shakes his head. “No. And even if you wanted to go topless it was your choice. Not my place to stop you.” His answer makes her let out a sigh of content.

“You’re just so perfect you know,” she pats his cheek before kissing it. The others watch on fondly, though Rooster makes a playful gag sound.

“Disgusting.”

“I’ll send you to timeout, Bradley.”

Eventually after some time the topic of Y/n’s name in the industry was brought up. The Daughter of Rock N Roll. All through her career people told Y/n how when she sang she sounded what an angel rebelling from God to be a rockstar would sound like. The epiphany of rock n roll, Y/n was dubbed it’s daughter by Rolling Stone magazine at the brink of the 90s after dominating the 80s.

“How’d you find out?” Bob’s eyes were wide with curiosity. They all were, leaning forward in their seats to hear better as the woman began to explain.

“We had just won our fifth Grammy,” she sets the picture, “the next day was the kickoff to the American leg of our world tour so we were barely paying attention to the press, tabloids, media, you know. I was running late that morning—can’t remember exactly why but when I got to the venue Ronnie was running at me with a magazine in her hand…”

“Oh my God, have you seen the news?!” Ronnie’s high pitched yell had the singer wince.

“Girlfriend, I woke up not even twenty minutes ago. What happened—who died?” Suddenly Y/n serious, fearful that someone they knew had passed. Being in the industry for over ten years made them face the loss of many friends they had accumulated along the way.

The face Ronnie makes sends relief, “no one died. But look—!” She pushes the magazine towards her friend’s face, Y/n scrambling to not drop her Walkman and coffee she was holding as she tried to grasp the object. “Look at what Rolling Stones have named you!”

Removing the sunglasses off her face lightening fast, no longer caring she spilled an entire cup of coffee she’d just purchased, Y/n let out a audible, “no fucking way,’ when her eyes read over the big letters on the cover of Rolling Stones Magazine.

“Y/n L/n is the Daughter of Rock ‘N’ Roll—like Micheal Jackson as the King of Pop and Aretha Franklin crowned the Queen of Soul, the powerhouse and voice behind Y/n & The Romantics from Atlanta, Georgia has become widely associated among critics and fans across the globe as the Daughter of Rock ‘N’ Roll right behind Elvis as its King.

“Did you ever think that would happen?” Payback’s question brought Y/n out of the memory.

“Never,” briefly she look into the house where the framed Rolling Stones magazine hung on the wall, “I was very shocked when I heard the news. Never did it occur to me I would have a title and I would say it’s the biggest honor I have as an artist in this industry. And nowadays you see titles being thrown around all the time, but back then it happened once in a blue moon. So when I heard the news I was like, ‘no fucking way,’.”

“See what I don’t understand is,” Jake cuts in with an odd expression. “How come they waited this long to induct you and the band into the Hall of Fame? To be honest y’all should’ve been in it ages ago.”

“Agreed,” Fanboy tips his beer.

Rooster raises his own, “amen to that.”

Y/n hesitates to answer, conflicted in her eyes that when she turns to look at her husband he could see she was unsure to answer. Pete gives her an encouraging nod causing her to exhale deeply.

“To, how do folks put it…spilling the tea?” Rooster snorted at the phrase, earning a scolding look from Y/n. “Don’t tease me. The whole thing with the Hall of Fame wanting this long is because they at one point—I think ten years ago—wanted to induct just me because of all the solo work I had done since we split up. But I wasn’t on board with that. If they were gonna induct me, they were gonna induct me as part of Y/n & The Romantics. All of us,” she emphasized. “We were a group for thirty years when we split. They have been my best friends since childhood—my ride or die. There was no way in hell I was going to accept an induction to the Hall of Fame without them.”

After a while of digressing that shocking news Javy decides to ask, “What was it like doing the USA for Africa? All those legends together—I still get chills everytime I watch the music video.”

Y/n lights up at the mention of ‘We Are The World’, “it was amazing. Nothing could really put into words what that day was like. When our manager approached us about it we were like, ‘Quincy Jones, Micheal Jackson and Lionel Ritchie want us on their song?’ We didn’t believe it. Then we got to the studio and oh my God,” she makes a gesture with her hands, “I was at a loss for words. Micheal was the first to greet us—it wasn’t the first time we’d met him but still, it was Micheal fucking Jackson. I met a lot of my close friends that day, Micheal included. Cyndi Laupher, Bruce Springsteen, Stevie Wonder, Tina Turner, Steve Perry, Kenny Loggins, Diana Ross.” Y/n lists off more of the artists featured on the track, each one making the daggers jaws drop even more. “They had paired me with Cyndi and I’ll never forget us hitting that note together. We both high fived afterward just absolutely in awe of the other.”

“Weren’t you also in the one they did in 2010 for Haiti?” Bob adjusts his glasses when the thought pops into his head.

The woman nods, “I was. Jaime Foxx had reached out to me personally about it and I immediately agreed. It was hard—especially with it only being a year since we lost Micheal and then of course the reason we were doing it. But it was just as amazing as it was twenty-five years earlier.”

“Do you still keep in touch with a lot of them?” Fanboy asks.

“Here and there,” she answers truthfully. “Whenever I run into them at events we briefly catch up. Of course nowadays with social media it’s more accessible to send a direct message if you don’t have their number. Most of the time I’m in contact with old friends and colleagues when we collaborate or plan to meet up at shows.”

“Who are the people you talk with the most?” Jake pitches in.

“Oh, Cyndi, Janet, Kenny, Lionel,” she lists off. “Bono from U2 and I have been friends for ages so I talk with him a lot. Lenny Kravitz is also someone I try to see often—as well as Chili and Tboz from TLC. We bonded with them since they are also from Atlanta. ”

Phoenix tilts her head, curiosity in her eyes, “Are you and the band collaborating with anyone for your next album?” Instantly Y/n perks up, a smile threatening to form and give herself away. Nat catches it and teases, “I swear to secrecy if you tell us.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” Y/n laughs when Rooster pouts, throwing his hands out as he whines, “C’mon. When have I ever leaked your songs or upcoming projects? I think I’ve done pretty good—my track record is going on thirty years, you know.”

Pete laughs with his wife as the daggers begin to tease their fellow aviator. “Better to be safe than sorry, Bradley.” This earns the Captain a light slap on the chest.

“Oh stop,” she playfully scolds. “I’m only teasing.” She returns her attention back to Nat. “I can’t say much because a lot is still in the works….but, I can confirm we’ll be doing a feature with Lenny Kravitz.” Gasps and ‘holy shit’ fill the patio, Javy and Danny on the brink of losing their minds.

“Lenny fucking Kravits!”

“Oh it’s gonna be a hit. Number one on Billboard I’m telling ya.”

By now it was getting cooler outside. The sky was dark with stars twinkling above. Instead of having someone go inside to grab drinks for everyone the group decided to migrate into the living room. Pete distinguishes the fire, Y/n hauls the dogs in with Nat and soon the couches and chairs are occupied.

Jake rubs his jaw, “what would you say is the best advice someone has given you? And who,” he adds, “if you’re open to saying.” Y/n takes a moment to think about her answer. To be honest, she’d received lots of great advice in the 40 plus years of being in the industry from an array of people. There of course was Dolly and Diana who always gave a second opinion whenever needed. There was Michael, who told her to always have fun no matter what life threw at her.

“A long time ago,” she humed, tilting her head back to stare at the ceiling while caressing the bottom of her chin. “I wanna say early 90s, I met Tony Bennett at an award show. Probably Grammy’s or Billboard, but he had approached me just before the show ended and we got to talking. I can’t remember exactly what was said in the conversation but I this always stuck with me,” pausing Y/n places her hand back in her lap. “He said, ‘Cherish the big moments—the milestones, the accomplishments, the things that will leave a legacy long after you’re gone..but also cherish the small moments. The ones you will look back on and remember fondly. As a time you were living your life as if the day was your last.’”

The words hit each of the officers. All taking it in as though Y/n was the one offering them the advice. Something about it resonated with each of them—thinking about their lives and careers. Where often they forgot to cherish little moments because they were overshadowed by big ones. An example for Natasha would be the one time her father gifted her flowers for when she made Lieutenant. Or when Javy’s brother surprised him for his college graduation. The big milestones were the reason the little things even happened.

Then you had all those times the squad would meet up at the beach for dogfight football. Or when a late night drive turns into carpool karaoke. Those small specks of time where you’re truly living in the present.

As Midnight approached the daggers took their leave. Most of them were staying on base or had nearby hotels so they waited a few hours after their last drink to leave. Though Bob was DD so he took most of them home.

Goodbyes were said with promises to meet up again soon. A few of the pilots were expected to report for an upcoming mission that week so they were all on high alert. Y/n of course was worried and gave a pep talk to each of them as they left.

When the house was finally cleared with only the couple and their dogs remaining, Y/n discarded the empty cans and water bottles before rinsing off the dishes. A yawn escaped her, leaning into Pete when he came up behind her, arms going to her waist.

“You know that can wait until morning,” he kissed her cheek, making her smile.

“I know, but I like waking up to see it’s already done. That way I can relax by sleeping in.”

Pete chuckled against her ear, “I leave you to it then. I’ll get the dogs settled and meet you in the room.” With a kiss to her lips, Pete removed himself and whistled for the hounds to follow him down the corridor. Their patter got lighter and lighter, silence filling the room once they were gone.

There wasn’t much to do in the kitchen or living room. Y/n hummed the tone of ‘Don’t You Forget About Me’ as she rinsed the plates and cups to put them in the dishwasher.

“I’ll be alone, dancing, you know it, baby,” she sang under her breath, nodding her head to the beat even though no music was playing. “Going to take you apart. I’ll put us back together at heart baby.”

“Don’t you, forget about me.”

After that was done Y/n took out the trash and placed it by the garage door to remind them in the morning. Next she wiped down the countertops and fixed the couch cushions. Finally the last thing to do was lock the doors and close the curtains.

Moving past the living room to head toward her bedroom, Y/n paused when she came to the wall displaying many photographs from her career milestones. “Don’t lose that dream, little one,” she could hear Elvis say to her as her eyes met the framed Rolling Stones cover in the center. The lighting of the image made it appear of just her silhouette, Y/n’s head tilted up with the echo of a smile on her lips. The microphone right beside her with Danny’s drums in the background.

“Y/n L/n is the Daughter of Rock ‘N’ Roll.”

Dated February 1992. Thirty years since the issue was released. And boy had it been a wild ride for the rockstar.

Brushing her finger over the image and then lightly tapping her knuckles against the glass, Y/n grinned as Elvis' words to 12-year-old self repeated in her head.

“Hope I made you proud, King.”

……………….

TGM Tag List: @avaleineandafryingpan , @caitsymichelle13 , @poppyalice2001 , @cutelittlepotatofry , @luckyladycreator2 , @americaarse , @elenavampire21 , @back-tooo-black , @wildellaa , @artemissunn , @pinkpantheris

[thegayhimbo]

Ranking The Stranger Things Tie-Ins:

Now that I've finished the reviews (for the time being), I wanted to do a ranking of all the tie-in comics, graphic novels, and books. Originally, I was just going to do a Top 5 Best and Worst List, but I figured it would be more fun to make a complete list of all the tie-ins while also giving my brief thoughts on each one (especially for those who don't want to read my lengthy reviews). Please note this is all in good fun and just my personal opinion, which can be subjected to change.

Also, this list will NOT include any of the show's episodes, video games, tabletop games, children's tie-in books, the Choose Your Own Adventure book, the Stranger Things Experience, or the stage play The First Shadow.

With that out of the way, let's begin in order from Worst to Best:

#26: Stranger Things Summer Special (See Review Here)

I never cared for Powell and Callahan as characters. They barely have anything to do with the show's main arc, they're NOT funny, and the "bumbling cop" trope is something I've grown tired of in recent years.

The premise of this short, where both of them are conveniently present at key events during season 3 in their lousy pursuit of being "good cops," all the while having constant near-misses with the Upside Down, the Flayed, and the Meat Flayer, is a repetitive joke that quickly grows old. That's not even getting into the huge continuity errors plaguing the short and creating a bunch of plot-holes. Completely unnecessary. Hard pass.

#25: Stranger Things The Bully (See Review Here)

This only ranks slightly higher than Summer Special because I like the artwork better, and it doesn't mess up the show's continuity like the previous comic did. However, that's all this really has going for it.

For whatever reason, they decided to make an entire graphic novel focusing on Troy and James (the bullies from season 1), and all I could think about while reading it is "This is a huge waste of time." I already didn't like Troy to begin with, this comic does NOTHING to improve my opinion of him, and considering that neither James nor Troy have appeared on the show since (and probably aren't coming back for season 5), I don't see what the point of this story was. This paragraph from my review sums it up best:

#24: Stranger Things x TMNT Crossover (See Review Here)

I'm sure there are fans who enjoyed this bizarre trip while embracing its absurdness and surrealism, but I am not one of them. I like TMNT and I like Stranger Things, but I draw the line at saying both properties exist in the same universe. That's not even getting into the haphazard attempts by the writers to make this comic canon with the show. Knowing the Duffer Brothers, that's likely not going to happen.

#23: Stranger Things Tales From Hawkins (See Review Here)

The idea of doing an anthology comic focusing on Hawkins residents was intriguing, but the end result was disappointing. They should have broadened their horizons regarding which characters to focus on, and not just set the stories exclusively in the first 2 seasons.

Murray's story (Issue #2) and the Pumpkin Patch Rivalry (Issue #4) are arguably the best ones. The rest are either forgettable or derivative.

#22: Stranger Things Six (See Review Here)

My first venture into Stranger Things comics. I've come a long way since then! :)

I remember looking forward to this particular comic to learn more about Hawkins Lab, Dr. Brenner, Project MKUltra, and the special kids............only to feel underwhelmed when I actually read it. I wanted to like Francine/Six, but I didn't find her interesting or compelling as a character, and the attempts to include other aspects of the show's lore (i.e. The Upside Down, Terry Ives, El and Kali, etc) felt shoehorned. Combined with the direction season 4 went, and it's a safe bet to say this comic is NOT canon (if it ever was).

#21: Stranger Things Suspicious Minds (See Review Here)

Suspicious Minds ranks slightly higher that Six for doing a better job fleshing out the experiments that were taking place at Hawkins Lab, as well as giving more details about Kali, Terry Ives, the test subjects, and El's biological father Andrew. It helps that Brenner is a threatening presence in this book, and that the narrative excels in maintaining suspense.

However, similar to Six, the events of season 4 render most of this book non-canon. That's not even getting into a major continuity error regarding El's date of birth that sticks out like a sore thumb.

Suspicious Minds serves as a cautionary reminder that if you're a creator and you've planned out a major twist for your show, then you either need to have a direct hands-on approach to how tie-ins are written and approved, or you need to be willing to share that twist with those you've hired to write tie-ins for the universe you're managing.

In any case, it is PAINFULLY CLEAR the Duffer Brothers didn't share information about Henry/One/Vecna with Gwenda Bond when she worte this book (or Paul Dichter for that matter when he helped oversee its development), and boy does it show in the final product. 😖

#20: Stranger Things Kamchatka (See Review Here)

Another example of a comic where the premise sounds intriguing, but they squander it on characters who aren't going to play a role on the show while also giving very little (and in some cases, contradictory) information about the show's lore.

While I liked the darker tone, the Cold War setting, and the spy thriller aspects, the characters didn't do much to impress me, and I was also frustrated by the lack of canon characters (Hopper, Dmitiri, Yuri, etc) who could have been in this comic and weren't. It's not bad, but it is mediocre when it didn't need to be.

#19: Stranger Things Into The Fire (See Review Here)

A sequel that improves on its predecessor (Stranger Things Six). While the comic likely isn't canon for the same reasons Six isn't, I appreciated the personal stakes this time around, I loved the creepy gothic aesthetic they did with Jamie/Nine's hallucinations, and it was nice to see Kali utilized in this story in a meaningful way. Here's hoping the Duffer Brothers wise up and bring Kali back for season 5 because she deserves so much better!

#18: Stranger Things Creature Feature (See Review Here)

One aspect of Season 4 that was disappointing was how little we got to see of the family dynamic with El and the Byers once they moved. It's hinted at, but not explored deeply. Creature Feature dives a little more into that, as well as El's struggles with PTSD, and gives a nice heartwarming scene between El, Jonathan, and Will towards the end that makes the short stand out.

However, the one-shot comic is sadly brief, and it may leave people frustrated about why they didn't go for a longer comic/graphic novel about El and the Byers adjusting to life in Lenora. I would've been interested in seeing that!

#17: Stranger Things The Game Master (See Review Here)

A one-shot comic where we get to see Steve and Nancy back together after the events of season 1 while also getting a surprisingly sweet interaction between Steve and Mike that isn't them griping with one another. I don't care much for Steve and Nancy's relationship, but I did like their attempts to help Mike feel better after El's apparent death. That was enough to elevate this short.

#16: Stranger Things Erica's Quest (See Review Here)

Not a fan of the artwork, but I was happy to witness the Scoop's Troop back together again. I also love how this short confirms Steve has played D&D before, which gives context to that scene in S4 when Dustin calls Steve asking him to be a substitute player in Eddie's D&D campaign.

#15: Stranger Things The Voyage (See Review Here)

Major improvement on Stranger Things Kamchatka. It's highly doubtful the show will include any mention of this comic (though if the Duffer Brothers decide to bring back the Russian arc for S5, I hope they incorporate Dr. Karine as the main antagonist), but the story is scary, suspenseful, and has the kind of gruesomeness you'd expect from an R-Rated horror film.

#14: Stranger Things Darkness On The Edge Of Town (See Reviews Here)

Having grown up reading a lot of murder mysteries, I have a soft spot for the genre. Hearing that Hopper's backstory involved him tracking down a deranged serial killer in New York City back in the 70s while also dealing with a dangerous cult was enough to get me on board with this book.

This novel isn't perfect, but it makes up for its shortcomings in creative ways. Hopper's backstory with the NYPD is fascinating, the story's focus on issues related to poverty, crime, mental health, law enforcement, and societal woes works well (even if they drop the ball towards the end), Hopper's interactions with El in the present are a highlight, and the narrative is effective in keeping the reader invested.

#13: Stranger Things Erica The Great (See Review Here)

A light-hearted graphic novel that bridges Erica's arc between seasons 3 and 4 while expanding on her growth as a character and development as a D&D play. It was cool seeing Erica's friends get their day in the limelight (one of whom might be making an appearance in S5), and the story has enough funny moments to keep the reader entertained.

#12: Stranger Things Flight Of Icarus (See Review Here)

I know fan reaction towards this book was cold when it was first announced, and I'll admit parts of it were hard to read given we all know how Eddie's story ends. I'm not a fan of media that teases false hope to the audience, only to cruelly yank it away.

That being said, I will go to bat for this book: It's well-written, and does a good job expanding on Eddie's character and his relationships with others (Wayne, Al Munson, Jason, etc). I also appreciate the book's themes regarding "forced conformity," and its scathing criticisms towards individuals and institutions (school teachers, law enforcement, students, residents, etc) who scapegoat and punish people like Eddie for existing while allowing (or in some cases, enabling) truly vile people to get away with being vicious and cruel towards "acceptable targets."

Considering how certain individuals on Tumblr and varying social media platforms have been treating others for the past few months, this book couldn't have come during a more relevant time.

#11: Stranger Things Halloween Special (See Review Here)

A delightful Halloween comic taking place before season 1 which centers around the Party telling an urban legend about the Child Eater of Hawkins, which coincidentally has eerie parallels to Vecna. Creepy artwork, an unsettling atmosphere, and a fun twist at the end! :)

#10: Stranger Things Hawkins Horrors (See Review Here)

Same deal as the Halloween Special, except it takes place between Seasons 3 and 4, and features multiple horror stories told by Steve, Robin, Nancy, Max, Lucas, Erica, Dustin, and Mike while they're all trapped in the Video Store during a power outage. The stories are scary and reminiscent of horror anthologies like Tales from the Crypt and Goosebumps, and some of them even cheekily foreshadow certain events that occur in season 4.

#9: Stranger Things Runaway Max (See Reviews Here)

Like Flight of Icarus, this book is hard to read, albeit for a different reason: I don't enjoy stories with characters trapped in abusive situations, and this book does not pull its punches in depicting the utter hell Max suffered through living with both Neil and Billy.

That being said, I grew to have a new appreciation for Max's character because of this book, and I liked seeing her backstory, her perspective on the events of season 2, and her thoughts about the characters she interacts with. I loved seeing her relationship with Lucas develop, I liked her brief interactions with Steve, and there was a satisfying payoff in her standing up to Billy and finally regaining some control over her life. If you love Max's character, this book is for you!

#8: Stranger Things Winter Special (See Review Here)

The closest Stranger Things will ever have for a Christmas Special (not counting the endings of the first two season finales). So many little details (i.e. the way the Party explains different Christmas stories to El and how she visualizes them, the revelation about what happened to the demodog in Joyce's fridge, etc) that make this an enjoyable read.

#7: Stranger Things Lucas On The Line (See Review Here)

One thing I will say for the tie-ins is that I appreciate how they expand the perspectives of characters from the show. Such is the case with Lucas on the Line. It takes place between seasons 3 and 4, and explores Lucas's attempts to come to terms with his trauma, the growing rift between himself and Max, his attempts to balance his strained relationships with his friends and his desire to play basketball and break out of the "nerd" stereotype, and it gives a very brutal but effective portrait of what it's like for Lucas to be one of the few black kids in Hawkins constantly surrounded by people who are either outwardly racist or project their biases and prejudices in truly insidious ways.

There are two reasons I'm not ranking this novel as highly even though it's a fan-favorite: 1.) There are continuity errors that took me out of certain moments while reading it, and 2.) The third act (which is when S4 begins) does a clumsy job tying in with the rest of the book and its themes. I really wish the book had continued with Lucas's story up to the end of S4 instead of stopping halfway through.

#6: Stranger Things The Other Side (See Review Here)

I always wanted to know what was going on with Will in season 1 when he was taken to the Upside Down. This comic thankfully elaborates on that and doesn't disappoint. Will's journey to survive is both intense and terrifying, and the way the comic seamlessly connects itself with the events of season 1 is to be applauded.

I have no clue what the Duffer Brothers plan to reveal in season 5 about the Upside Down and why time froze in 1983 when Will was taken, but considering they talked with the writers and artists for this comic and gave their stamp of approval, I'm hopeful the events of The Other Side won't be retconned.

#5: Stranger Things Science Camp (See Review Here)

Who knew that when Dustin went to Science Camp, he walked right into a Friday the 13th movie? 😂

Don't want to spoil too much about this one, but I had a blast reading it. Dustin's perspective is always entertaining, the comic works as a brilliant introduction for Suzie, and the mystery plaguing the camp is genuinely interesting and has a good twist. High recommendation.

#4: Stranger Things Zombie Boys (See Review Here)

I'm still bitter that the character of Joey Kim never made an appearance on the show despite the camaraderie he had with the Party, as well as how he gave the boys some catharsis from all the shit they were put through in season 1.

Nevertheless, I enjoyed the premise of the Party making a zombie movie, and I appreciated how it handled the characters' trauma without being patronizing. The artwork was also impressive and beautiful to look at. Here's hoping we get more comics and graphic novels like this in the future!

#3: Stranger Things Tomb Of Ybwen (See Review Here)

At its core, the comic manages to explore an aspect that wasn't given much coverage on the show: Will's reaction to Bob's death and his attempts to come to terms with it. All of which culminates in a quest Will undertakes when he finds a map from Bob that (allegedly) leads to an ancient Viking treasure buried in Hawkins.

I don't want to give too much away in terms of spoilers, but the story is both emotional, sad, and heartwarming, and it does an excellent job reinforcing the friendship between all 4 boys while also demonstrating the impact Bob had on Will's life.

#2: Stranger Things and Dungeons and Dragons (See Review Here)

Speaking as someone who's occasionally crafted various fantasy scenarios in my head to cope with the stresses of life, this comic was deeply relatable. The show never shied away from emphasizing the importance of D&D to these characters, and this comic expands on that by illustrating why they became interested in D&D in the first place, how they've used D&D to cope with living in Hawkins, how the events of the first 3 seasons factor into how they play D&D, and how the game evolved with them as they continued to get older. It's like the piece of media from your childhood that stays with you as an adult. Arguably the best comic in the series (so far).

#1: Stranger Things Rebel Robin (See Reviews Here)

My favorite book and tie-in of the series. Speaking as someone who's gay, this story spoke to me on a personal level, and there were a lot of parallels I was drawing between Robin's experiences in high school and my own: The fear of being outed and ostracized. The desire to break free and explore the world. Recognizing the injustices that exist in society and wishing you could do something about them. Getting a nasty dose of reality that people you thought you could trust aren't reliable, and may even be more awful than you anticipated. Been there, done that, still dealing with some aspects of it.

It's funny because even if you take out the plot elements relating to the Upside Down, you still get a great coming-of-age story, and one that speaks to many people, LGBT+ or otherwise.

That concludes the ranking and reviews for right now! Thank you again for those who've been reading them! :)

[sorryimananti-romantic]

Horizon (Chapter 3)

series masterlist

faerieprince!san x oc

royal/fantasy au, soulmate au

chapter wc: ~22k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Territory?” Gaeul asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you thinking?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t keep staring at Gaeul-”

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

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

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

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

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

“You know we’re here for you.”

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

—-----------------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gaeul-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because I needed to clear my head.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gaeul-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let me show you something.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But-”

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

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

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

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

“For what?” Gaeul had forgotten to breathe.

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

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

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

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

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

—----------------

What sort of bond could survive death?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where’s this Kieran guy now?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—---------------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was definitely feeling nervous.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Longing. That’s what San felt.

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you find me attractive too?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She hesitated!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—------------------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Only Yena, it seems.”

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

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

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

“Technically, you run none of them-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good to hear,” Gaeul shared a grin. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you miss living there?” Mingi asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—----------------

“I’ll… sleep on the couch?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I ask you one thing?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She liked it. And it drove him crazy.

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

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

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

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

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

“Does it make you nervous?” San laughed.

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

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

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

“Thought for a thought?” Gaeul asked.

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

Who allowed him to say things like that-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is this normal?”

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

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

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

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

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

—-------------------

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

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

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

The bond that soulmates shared. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-----------------

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

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

“Tell me to stop.”

“Don’t stop.”

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

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

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

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

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

Or maybe she should just be patient and wait. 

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

So pretty his heart hurt. 

“You’re… awake.”

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

“Did you-”

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

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

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

“Was it something I did-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pass me the-”

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

“Don’t push me!”

“I wanna go to the beach to swim…”

“Ugh, I’m so tired, shut up-”

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

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

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

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

“Concerned? The bad kind?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey! What do you mean by that!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Gaeul?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-----------------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gaeul.”

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

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

Cold fire.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What a mess these two were.

—-------------------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She is?” Seonghwa gaped at them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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